Becoming Joshua Aaron - chapter 1
small college gay nerd wakes in the body of beefy allstar quarterback
It smelled of mud and grass. Voices became clearer, but still felt dim and far from me. Blurry bright lights flooded my vision. I saw the silhouette of football players trying to aid me to my feet. I can hardly open my eyes. I precariously stand, held by two guys who walk me slowly to the lockers. Cannot recognize them, they seem enthusiastic about something. Did I score or something? They sit me on a bench outside a lockeroom building, feeling less dizzy now. They leave, I’m left alone to catch my breath. I slowly open my eyes.
The football field is widely lit by the stadium lights. Clock reads 21:07, of a Thursday night in Dallas. Late practice seems to be over, no crowd, just players. They seem to walk to another building. I see a figure detach from the crowd, walking towards me.
“Good game son!” grins the coach as he strolls closer. “What a move man! That right there was NFL worthy… got us scared son, what happened back there? You wanna get that head bump checked? Real few things can tremble a guy like you… but you did fall right to the ground, you alright?” I nodded. “Alright man, told the guys to leave you alone here, no glory talk about today for now… got the whole locker for you” He fatherly patted my shoulder, which felt different. I wasn’t following much of what was going on. “See you tomorrow” I smiled at him and nodded in approval, just followed the flow of the chat. “Good grief man, you got a strong handgrip. Later son” A final handshake and he walked away.
I breathe deeply the cool evening air; my chest seems to handle large amounts of it. I don’t feel pain or nausea. I feel different, as if I now use a lot of space. Did I hit my head really hard? What happened? I was just now doing an evening written exam. Blackout, then I awake here. My heartbeats resound slow and steady. I exhale profoundly and walk into the locker.
My shoes make clanking sound in the concrete floor. I look down. Besides the shock of how far away the floor seems, my view is obscured by big protruding pectorals drenched under my shirt. I have to be at least 6’4 and heavily muscled. I sidestep due to the surprise, the concrete room echoes with my clanking footwear. Stepping back while getting a rear glimpse at my abs, I stumble across a small mirror on the wall.
I’m looking at Joshua Aaron. The college star quarterback, fullfledged football stud with built prime american beef. The guy who’s looks I’ve lusted since forever. A man I jerked and dreamed about. The small square mirror shows his face. I blink repeatedly, partly due to the trivial dizziness but mostly because I couldn’t believe my eyes. My piercing deep blue eyes. I just stood there, in awe. Short light brown hair, my rugged handsome features, the anvil shaped jaw, the scruff. Breathing steadily but heavily, I clenched my jaw to remain silent, my skull responded by enhancing the strong angular traits, the big imposing good looks. A husky feel surrounded my looks, threatening and solemn, like a nordic god enlisted in the marines. Neat and tidy, yet rough and savage, the traits of a man with power.
I looked down again at myself. No big mirrors around, but I could tell what a sight I am now. My 260 pound musclebound frame, which felt hefty compared to my former body, was covered by loose clothes that still showed a lot of the specimen I am. Muddy and smelly, the simple black white-striped sweatpants clearly covered massive thighs that showed off no matter how baggy they looked. Over my chest, a grey long sleeve cotton shirt hugged with grass and sweaty stains the slabs of meat bulging around me. God it feels good. After-game good. I feel something across my back, cannot see it but its printed on the shirt. My lastname, AARON in big white bold letters arched across my back, as my fingers touch the different feel of the printed fabric, while my muscles fight for space as my arm explores it. Began to feel a cold breeze as my heat fades and my clothing soaks. My cock was pulsing under my pants. Ever throbbing as time passes and I settle more in this temple of a body.
A small yet evident red mark shows on my forehead. No pain, nothing as I touch it. I wasn’t wearing a helmet, perhaps practice didn’t demand it. No pads or any sort of gear, just this simple clothing had to cope with the tough sport of football today. Not that I needed it, it seems I could lift a tank. Josh is the kind of man that would chase someone and demolish walls if necessary. The guy was a heavyweight sportscar in the field, without the fear of scratching his goodlooks. Extremely masculine, a guy like Josh lacked mundane fears. Passionate about victory, he gave his monster body the stress to break bone and muscle every game, stress that could probably kill any average man on the spot. In my former body I would have died. I never met Josh, he was a nice guy but he wouldn’t ever talk to me. I lusted his power and confidence, the idea that he underwent a life that would indeed kill me. Too foreign and dangerous to even talk to. Never noticing the gay lad desperately obsessed with him.
Not anymore. Somehow, his perfect play was messed up during practice. He somehow hit his head precisely somewhere, which left his magnificent body asleep for a while in the game field. Finally, I somehow awoke, not a sign of Josh. Just me, a gay college nerd now inhabiting the body of the all-star beefy quarterback.
As I thought about this, I ran my big hands over my dirty shirt. Feeling how my boulder muscles stretched it, my nipples showing as it got cooler. My arms moved up and down my chest, below the big pectorals, to the sides and over the loose folds that still revealed the ridged abs. My cock was now eager with a rock hard on, pulsing warm precum. The clock reads 21:15. I was confused and eager, overwhelmed by the many feels. My hard on felt like none before, great lust of wholehearted anticipation, as if it had being waiting for such an experience for a very long time. While everything felt ever more familiar, me adjusting to my new imposing height, the muscles covering me and the overall power it gave, I knew it was my personal eager cock now dwelling inside Josh’s tool. It is the dick of a small gay boy in spirit. Now framed by the epitome of masculinity and attractiveness.
A noise snatched off my ecstasy.
Quick footsteps heard outside the building, from the backdoor. Stepping outside and leaving the field behind, I can quickly walk the mildly empty campus towards the sciences building. The vague noises get closer, as a small crowd flocks around the corner.
An ambulance. Without getting too close, I understand what happens.
“Gregory Walker, 21 years old, no apparent former condition… fell unconscious during econ exam, vital signs unstable… probable comatose state, concussion?” a paramedic softly comments to another, who takes notes while asking other questions. “Signs of brain injury, collision induced… later rippling lesion from earlier? Improbable chemical reason, will discard in lab… sure he had some sort of head stress, maybe fell or something… but no signs anywhere… probably from earlier, yes?” The crowd dissipates quickly while rumoring about, as the ambulance closes its doors and departs down the street.
(to be continued)