The invitation had been sitting on his phone all week: HAIRY MEN’S POOL PARTY — SATURDAY, NOON, BRING A TOWEL, SUNSCREEN, AND CONFIDENCE. The photos attached to the invite were exactly what he expected—bearded men laughing in the pool, thick chests slick with water, shoulders and stomachs covered in dark natural hair.
Rob wanted to go, badly, but every time he looked down at himself, he felt like he’d been invited by mistake. His face was smooth. His chest was bare. His arms and stomach looked almost untouched. His look wouldn't fit the party.
Everyone knew hair tonic worked now; it wasn’t some weird underground thing anymore. Guys used the standard version before dates, beach trips, costume parties, even just a night out. Rub it in, wait a few minutes, and the first growth came through right there in the mirror. It was like make-up for men.
But Rob hadn’t bought the standard version. He’d paid extra for the overnight formula—the one marketed for men who wanted deeper, fuller, more permanent-looking results. The directions were simple: apply generously, massage into all target areas, sleep, and allow eight hours for maximum activation. So that night, with the pool party invitation still glowing on the bathroom counter beside him, Rob stripped down and went all in. He rubbed the tonic over his cheeks, jaw, upper lip, throat, chest, stomach, shoulders, arms, and legs. He didn’t want a little stubble or a polite dusting of hair. He wanted the kind of body that would walk into that party and belong there immediately.
At first, the change felt like a subtle heat under his skin. His jaw prickled. His chest tingled. The smooth skin over his stomach seemed almost too sensitive beneath his fingers. By the time he checked the mirror again, only minutes later, the overnight tonic was already giving him a preview. A dark shadow had formed along his jaw and upper lip, and faint curls were beginning to push across his chest. His body looked stronger somehow with the new hair sprouting, more solid and athletic, as if the tonic was improving the whole presentation while it prepared the real transformation underneath. He went to bed staring at the ceiling, feeling tiny sparks of growth across his body, wondering what he would look like by morning.
That night, while Rob slept, the changes continued apace. Hair sprouting on his chest, his beard growing in denser and longer, hair developing on his arms, and shoulders.
When he woke, he barely recognized himself.
His face had filled in with a dense beard and a heavy mustache, rugged and deliberate, the kind of facial hair that made his old smooth face seem like a forgotten draft. His chest was no longer bare; it was covered in a thick dark pelt, densest across the center and spreading over his pecs, down his stomach, and into a heavy trail. His arms and legs had grown coarse and masculine, and his shoulders—where he had applied extra tonic twice—now carried visible hair too, making the whole result look natural, powerful, and unmistakably intentional.
By the time he arrived at the pool party, towel over one shoulder and sunglasses on, he didn’t feel nervous anymore. He saw men glance at his beard first, then at the heavy hair across his chest and shoulders, and for the first time, he didn’t feel like he was trying to keep up. The invitation had promised confidence, but the tonic had given him the body to match it. He stepped into the sun, smiled under his new mustache, and knew he had used exactly the right amount.
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