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Jeff & Mike
|So, anyway, there I was in the fuckin' warehouse, just getting into this huge argument with my 500-lb muscle boyfriend. What started it was, Jeff had just told me he was planning to share his transmogrification with his bodybuilder-freak muscle slaves, and not his own boyfriend. We are fighting like crazy, like a couple of hissy white trash trailer-park faggots arguing about who drank all the GHB...
"I can't believe you're not going to do for me, whatever the freak-ass shit it was you did to yourself, Jeff!!" sounding, I regret to say, pouty and jealous. I mean, this is my BOYFRIEND telling me he's planning to give XXX, that professional straight asshole, the muscle fix of the millennium while I'm left here with my puny-ass nineteen inch guns.
So, getting to the point of this ENTIRE FUCKING STORY, we stop fighting, and Jeff lets me know that what he MEANT, was, he wants to offer me the gift first, BEFORE he offers it to them…Basically, now the question boils down to, if I consent to submit to letting him inject his formula - and I allowed him to document the change for science - he maybe won't even NEED to give it to them. If I could consent to help him perfect the formula and test out its properties, we wouldn't need the muscle slaves for anything more than occasional target practice for our obscene cocks.
"Consent to it? What the fuck do you mean IF I consent to it? Hell yeah, I consent to it! You think I'm gonna give up this chance?" Because I'm thinking, OKAY, Jeff you fucker -- I was bigger than you were by fifteen or so pounds, there at the time you left; so if I took this formula I could be even bigger than you? Bigger than 500 pounds? The thought was scarcely conceivable; me, MY muscles, being more developed than this beast in front of me…?
My reverie of being the Biggest Fucking-Ass-Muscle-Man-in-Human-History, and being able to overpower even this, my inhuman b/f, tackling him with muscles even more thunderously powerful than his…of straddling his quivering, massive body, and pushing his pretty, weeping face into the concrete floor with my massive oak-tree arms, while I plunged my massive cock deep into his superhuman butt, into his warm gut, and blowing gallon after gallon of steaming spunk into his innards, was interrupted by Jeff's sigh.
"Mike dude, you don't have to tell me, I know what you're thinking." God, I hope not…
"You're thinking what the hell, let's make it happen, get going…"
Yes, exactly! What the hell! Let's make it happen! Get going!
Jeff sighed. "I know you want it bad. But I'm telling you, it literally almost killed me. Remember?? To get from there -" he pointed to me: "- to here," (I.e., him) "there is an ocean of pain to cross."
Oh yeah…Youch. Forgot about that part.
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