#body suit

[spndxjcksblog]

[muffinvikingart]

Wanted to draw a bodysuit.

[beautifulwalkingclub]

[lovescapecore]

cute face, questionable intentions 💋

[misctf]

A Special Winter Coat

Last part of a few winter themed stories. The Snow Storm & The Snow Hat are the two prior stories. I'll be working on some Asks and a series for Valentine's Day. Happy Monday!

"Dude, what the fuck?"

"What is it this time?" Ron groaned and removed his headphones.

"It's so fucking cold out, bro." Cayden walked in, shirtless per usual, shivering, "I'm freezing to death."

"Well, we're in the middle of winter." Ron deadpanned, "And I mean, you're shirtless." Cayden looked down and smirked, while Ron turned away to hide his reddening cheeks.

"Yeah, I guess you've got a point." Cayden mused, "But I've been working hard in the gym. Might as well show it off, right bud?"

"Ye-yeah, totally..." Ron stared at his textbook, doing his best to avoid his roommate's knowing gaze. Of course Cayden had to check all of Ron's boxes- the looks, the cockiness, straight- and worse yet, Cayden knew Ron was into him, "But if you're going to complain about being cold, you should get a coat. Or at least a shirt."

"Just 'cause you're smarter than me doesn't mean I need you to point out the obvious." Just then there was a knock on the door, and Cayden's smile widened, "Dude, you think I wouldn't come up with a plan?" Ron watched as Cayden went and grabbed a massive package and brought it in, his muscles bulging from the weight of the package, "Fuck, it's heavy."

"What's that?"

"Just the warmest winter coat money could buy." Cayden huffed, walking past Ron and towards his room, "Some dude sells them on Insta. Calls them Bear Coats." He smiled, "I'm gonna go try it on. See you in a sec, bro."

Ron nodded and watched as Cayden disappeared into his room, "Bear Coats, huh?" He mumbled, opening their website, "Weird." He scrolled through pics of their products and customers.

"I don't think Cayden really matches their demographic." Ron shrugged, "Oh, it says here the designer is part of the LGBTQ community. Didn't realize Cayden was an ally." He chuckled and went back to what he was doing, "Who am I to question it though?"

-----------

"Last time I freeze my balls off." Cayden grinned as he took his pocket knife to the package, "Oh fuck..." A wave of warmth washed over him as he opened it, "Does this thing radiate heat or something?" He smirked, "Perfect."

The young jock worked to pull the contents of the package out, which were still wrapped in a black, plastic material. Before Cayden had a chance to open it, he noticed a small folded letter.

"Thank you for choosing us." Typical corporate bullshit, "And thank you for choosing the Barry model." Cayden raised an eyebrow, "Barry model? Who the fuck is Barry?"

He tossed the letter aside and looked over at what he assumed was his new coat, still wrapped in the plastic. He approached it slowly, the heat still as intense as ever.

"Something isn't right." He whispered, "C'mon grow a pair, man." Was he really freaking out over a coat?

Cayden chuckled at how stupid he was being as he cut into the black plastic. The steam that was released from the bag made him jump back. And he stared, wide-eyed, at the lump of flesh colored material that now sat on his bed.

"What the fuck?"

But before he could even react, it sprung at him- its features becoming more apparent. Although the suit was deflated, lacking a core, Cayden could make out what was likely a large gut and sagging pecs, blanketed in wiry hairs. It's face was bearded, it's eye sockets empty-for now.

"Oh fu...!" Cayden's scream was cut off as the mask of the suit connected with his face, "Mmmphhh!"

Cayden tried to yell out, but a rubbery gag was promptly shoved down his throat. He pulled desperately at the mask at it sealed around his head, his hands desperately digging into the rubbery flesh. Cayden fell to his knees, the remainder of the suit seemingly draping around him.

"I can't breath." Cayden thought as he continued to pull at the mask, "Oh fuck it's so hot! My head is so hot!" He pulled more desperately at the mask, "Get off me!"

But before he could mount any further defense, the remainder of the suit went into action. The suit's burly, hairy arm wrapped around Cayden's lean muscle and forced his arm to his side. The same heat enveloped his arm, although Cayden's muffled cries were barely audible. His other arm went to pull at the material covering his arm, but was quickly enveloped by the suit's other arm.

"Oh fuck. I can't move." Cayden could feel tears well in his eyes, "I'm gonna overheat. It's so hot."

He groaned as the suit's torso began to envelop his. It's hairy sagging chest enveloping his lean pecs. His once taut abdomen disappearing behind a thick wall of rubbery, hairy flesh. He tilted his head down with great effort, and through the eye slits he could see the expanse of the suit's thick gut. And behind all that fleshy rubber- his body was on fire.

"Something feels wrong." Cayden felt a sudden wave of vertigo, the heat suddenly becoming more bearable, "Oh fuck, my head..."

He slowly brought an encased hand to his head, expecting to feel the rubbery flesh of the suit. But that's not what he felt. He felt... a bushy beard. Flesh. Cayden's eyes widened and brought his other encased arm to confirm what he was feeling.

"No fucking way." He gasped as the words left his lips. He spoke. He was breathing, "Oh my god. Oh god." His voice- deeper, less youthful, "The suit is real? That doesn't make sense... Ughhhhhh..."

He yelped as the warmth in his arms and torso started to diminish too. Desperately, he grabbed at his arms, wincing in pain as his nails dug into flesh. And as he grabbed a fistful of his very real fat gut, he wanted to scream as realization crashed over him. But those thoughts were short lived as the remainder of the suit wrapped around his ass, dick, and legs.

"No... No, no, no.... ahhhh fuck." He moaned- the warmth around his dick and ass was not unpleasant- in fact, it felt so good.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back as the heat pleasantly enveloped his proud cock, shifting and morphing it into a thick beer can, nestled in his very real fat pad. All the while, his ass settled into its thicker, hairier form, while his legs finally conformed to that of the suit's. And as the warm, pleasant sensations diminished and the remainder of the suit became his very real new body, Cayden's reality came crashing down on him.

------------------

"Ron?"

"Holy fuck! Who're you and how'd you get in here?" Ron jumped up from the table as he stared at the totally naked, bear of a man that exited Cayden's room.

"No Ron, it's me." Cayden's voice was a whimper, "Cayden... I'm..."

"Cayden?" Ron's eyes widened, "What the fuck?"

"The coat, dude. It... It did this..." Cayden sounded so defeated, so disgusted, "I don't... I don't know what to do." But as he stared at Ron, something felt wrong, "You... you look cold..."

"What? Cayden, I don't think..."

"So cold." Cayden approached with a grin, "I can... keep you... warm..."

What the fuck was he saying? What was he doing? Why did he want to hold Ron close? Why did he want to cuddle with another man?

"Cayden, get back!" Ron weakly insisted.

"You want this, don't you." He slurred, "All of this." He felt a strange pride in his new, heavyset form, "Come 'ere lil bud."

Ron didn't have much of a choice. Suddenly finding himself in Cayden's bed, wrapped in the bear's massive, hairy arms. His semi-hard dick up against his ass. Being like this- up against Cayden's new, hairy, beefier form- certainly did keep him warm.

"Cayden?" He was met by the soft snoring of the new bear. With a sigh, Ron pressed up against Cayden, "I... I can get used to this." And drifted to sleep, the two keeping warm in the midst of the frigid winter.

[amaxbodyswap]

I’ve always been obsessed with bodies like his—thick, powerful, sculpted from years of heavy iron and discipline. I’d been stalking his profile for months, saving every gym selfie, every flex video, every shot of those tree-trunk thighs straining against tiny maroon shorts and that cropped tank riding up to show the deep cuts of his abs. I knew every detail: the dark beard, the backward cap, the heavy chain around his neck, the way his biceps peak when he flexes. I wanted it. All of it. Not just to touch—to own.

Tonight, I finally did it.

I waited until I knew he was alone in the gym after hours—he always stays late on leg day, pushing that last burnout set. I sat in the dark at home, cock already hard in my hand, staring at the newest mirror selfie he’d posted just minutes ago. I stroked slowly, deliberately, whispering his name like a spell. The ritual was simple but filthy: every pulse of pleasure I fed into the photo, every drop of pre-cum I smeared across the screen over his flexed arm, was a tether. A hook. A claim.

I came hard, groaning, ropes of cum splattering the phone, dripping down over his digital abs. And in that exact moment of release, I pushed.

My consciousness tore free of my own weak, skinny body and shot forward like a missile, riding the current of raw lust straight into him.

The entry was pure, obscene ecstasy.

I slammed into the back of his skull just as he was mid-flex in the empty gym mirror, phone still raised for another shot. His body jolted—his thick shoulders twitched, his breath hitched—and I felt everything at once. The heavy weight of his pecs shifting as he inhaled. The pump burning in his quads, so full they felt ready to split the seams of those slutty little shorts. The sweat cooling on his tanned skin. And lower—fuck—the thick, half-hard cock trapped against his thigh, already swelling from the adrenaline of the workout.

He fought for a second. I felt his mind thrash, confused, trying to hold on. But I was relentless. I flooded him with my desire, shoving memories of jerking off to his pics down his throat like cum. I wrapped my will around his like a hand around that fat dick and squeezed. He buckled. His resistance melted into a pathetic whimper that echoed only in the space between us, and then he was sliding backward, shrinking, forced out of his own nerves and muscles and skin.

I pushed him all the way out.

His soul slipped free with a wet, spiritual pop, leaving the body empty and waiting—just for me.

I settled in like I was sliding into a warm, tight hole that had been waiting to be fucked.

The first full breath I took in his lungs was intoxicating. Deep, powerful, filling a chest far broader than mine had ever been. I flexed his right arm experimentally—the bicep ballooned, hard and round, veins popping across the peak. A low, involuntary moan rumbled out of his throat—my throat now. The voice was deeper, rougher, sexier than I’d imagined.

I looked into the mirror and saw him staring back. But the eyes were mine now—hungry, predatory.

I let the phone drop to the floor with a clatter and brought both hands up, running them greedily over the body I’d just stolen. Palms slid over sweat-slick pecs, thumbs brushing his stiff nipples until they ached. Down the ridges of his abs, tracing every deep line. I hooked my thumbs into the waistband of those tiny maroon shorts and tugged them lower, just enough to free the heavy cock that sprang up against his abs—my abs now—already fully hard, thick, uncut, a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip.

I wrapped his big hand around it and groaned again, louder this time. The grip felt perfect—calloused from years of gripping bars, strong enough to squeeze just right. I gave one slow stroke, foreskin gliding over the swollen head, and the pleasure hit like a drug. Ten times stronger than anything my old body had ever felt. His balls—my balls—hung heavy, full, drawn up tight from the sudden rush of arousal.

I leaned closer to the mirror, watching his handsome face twist with raw lust as I started pumping faster. Sweat dripped down his neck, over the chain, between his pecs. I licked his lips, tasting salt. I flexed his free arm again, admiring the pump, the size, the power that was finally mine.

“Fuck yes,” I growled in his deep voice. “This body is mine now.”

I’m just getting started. I haven’t even made him cum in the gym mirror yet. I haven’t stripped these shorts off all the way, haven’t bent over the bench and spread these thick cheeks, haven’t felt what it’s like to edge this stolen cock for hours…

I couldn’t stay in the gym forever—even though part of me wanted to drop those shorts, bend over the weight bench, and fuck this new body raw right there under the fluorescent lights, mirrors on every side watching me claim what was mine. But the risk of getting caught only made my stolen cock throb harder. I edged myself mercilessly for twenty minutes, slow strokes turning into frantic pumps, smearing pre-cum over the swollen head until my balls ached, then forcing myself to stop. Every time I got close, I flexed—pec bounce, ab crunch, quad pop—just to feel the power surge, to remind myself this wasn’t a dream. This body was mine now.

I finally tucked the leaking dick back into those tight maroon shorts (it made an obscene bulge, the outline unmistakable) and grabbed his gym bag. Walking out felt unreal—those massive legs carrying me with easy, heavy strides, the pump making every muscle feel swollen and alive. The chain bounced against my new pecs. Sweat cooled on my skin. I drove his car home on pure instinct, one hand on the wheel, the other palming my bulge at every red light, squeezing just enough to keep the edge.

The second I stepped inside his apartment, I stripped.

The cropped tank came off first—peeled it over my head and let it drop, watching in the hallway mirror as the full torso came into view. Fuck, those pecs were even bigger up close, heavy slabs striated with veins, nipples dark and stiff from the cool air. I bounced them deliberately, left then right, groaning at how they moved under my control. Then the shorts—hooked my thumbs in and shoved them down, kicking them aside. The cock sprang free again, fully hard now, curving up thick and proud against my abs. Balls heavy, drawn tight. I gave it one long stroke, just to feel the weight in this big hand, then forced myself to stop again.

I needed to savor this.

I crashed onto the couch, sprawled back exactly like in the photo you just sent—head tilted, eyes half-lidded, that post-workout glow still shining on my skin. Curly hair a mess from the cap I’d tossed aside. Beard thick and dark. The little gold hoop earring catching the light. Chest heaving slow and deep, every breath making those massive pecs rise and fall like they were built for worship.

I ran both hands over them now, slow and greedy. Palms sliding through the light dusting of hair, thumbs circling the nipples until they ached. I pinched hard—gasped in his deep voice, cock jumping against my abs, leaving a wet streak of pre-cum. One hand stayed on a pec, kneading the thick muscle, feeling it flex and harden under my fingers. The other trailed lower, tracing every ridge of the eight-pack, dipping into the deep V that pointed straight to the prize.

I spread my thighs wide, feet planted on the floor, letting the heavy cock bob free in the air. Took it in a loose grip and just held it—feeling the pulse, the heat, the sheer size that my old body could never match. Slow strokes started again, foreskin gliding smooth and wet. Every pump made my pecs twitch, my abs tighten. I watched myself in the phone camera propped up on the coffee table, recording every second of this private takeover.

“This is my chest now,” I growled low, voice rumbling through the broad cavity. “These tits are mine to play with. This cock is mine to edge until I decide to blow.”

I’m not done yet. I haven’t flipped over on this couch, ass up, and spread these thick cheeks wide to see what this body feels like from behind. Haven’t tasted my own cum shooting across these pecs. Haven’t even started thinking about what I’ll do tomorrow—wearing his sluttiest clothes, hitting the gym again, maybe finding someone to use this body on…

I couldn't take it anymore on the couch—the edge was too sharp, balls throbbing like they were about to burst, pre-cum dripping in thick strings down the shaft every time I flexed. I needed more. Needed to see everything this body had to offer, slick and shining under better light.

I hauled myself up, heavy cock swinging between my thighs as I walked naked through the apartment, feeling the weight of it slap against my legs with every step. The bathroom door was already cracked open—steam still lingering from his earlier shower, mirror fogged at the edges. Perfect.

I grabbed the bottle of body oil from the shelf (he kept it right there, the slut—probably for exactly this kind of worship). Poured a thick stream into my palm and started rubbing it in slow, deliberate circles over these massive pecs. The oil made them gleam, highlighting every striation, every vein snaking across the slabs. I worked it lower, over the abs, into the deep grooves, watching them pop and shine like they were carved from bronze. Thighs next—quads so thick my hands barely spanned them, hamstrings flexing as I shifted weight. Calves diamond-hard. Every muscle responded instantly to my touch, like the body was eager to be used, claimed deeper.

Then I turned to the mirror, phone in one hand, and let the oil drip lower.

The cock was half-hard from all the teasing, hanging heavy and thick, foreskin pulled back just enough to show the fat head glistening. I poured oil straight onto it—watched it run down the shaft in shiny rivulets, pooling around the base in that thick bush of dark hair. Wrapped my big, oiled hand around it and gave a slow, twisting stroke from root to tip. The sensation was filthy—slick, hot, the foreskin gliding effortlessly now, head swelling fatter with every pass.

I groaned deep in his throat, eyes half-closed just like in the shot, beard framing that smug, horny face that's mine now. The oil made everything shine obscene under the bathroom light—pecs heaving, abs clenched, cock growing fully rigid in my grip, curving up thick and veined against the oiled abs. Balls hanging low and heavy, slick and swinging as I pumped faster.

"Fuck, look at this body," I muttered, voice rough and low, echoing off the tiles. "Oiled up like a whore. This fat dick is all mine to stroke whenever I want."

I edged harder now—hand flying up and down the oiled shaft, thumb smearing across the head on every upstroke, collecting more pre-cum to mix with the oil. The slap of skin on skin filled the room, wet and loud. I flexed one arm behind the phone, bicep peaking huge and round, veins bulging under the oil. The other hand never stopped—squeezing the base, milking upward, making the cock twitch and leak.

I'm not cumming yet. Not until I've turned around, spread these oiled cheeks in the mirror, seen how tight and perfect this ass looks shining. Not until I've tasted the oil mixed with pre-cum off my fingers. Not until I've decided if I'm posting this nude on his accounts, letting everyone see what I've stolen...

The oil was everywhere—slick down my pecs, abs, thighs, coating that thick cock in a shiny sheath that made every stroke feel like fucking a tight, wet hole. I turned around in front of the mirror, bent forward, spread these massive cheeks wide with both hands. The sight was obscene: glutes round and hard, oiled up and flexing, that tight pink hole winking under the light, untouched but begging to be claimed now that I'm in control. I slapped one cheek hard—watched it ripple, groaned deep as the sting shot straight to my balls. Fingered the rim just once, teasing, promising myself I'd wreck this ass later with toys, fingers, whatever I want.

But the pressure was building lower—balls so full they ached, bladder twitching from the workout hydration and all the edging. I couldn't hold it anymore. Cock still rock-hard and leaking, I stumbled to the toilet, dropped down heavy on the seat exactly like in the pic—legs spread wide, thighs bulging, chain dangling between these oiled pecs. Slipped on his reflective sunglasses from the counter (the cocky bastard kept them in here for exactly these kinds of selfies), hiding my predatory eyes behind the mirrored lenses as I aimed the phone for one last shot.

The first stream hit the bowl loud and strong—hot piss gushing out of my stolen cock in a thick arc, relief flooding through this powerful body. But fuck, the sensation was too good. The release, the vulnerability of sitting there exposed, legs splayed, heavy balls resting on the seat, cock throbbing as the stream pulsed. A drop of pre-cum mixed with the piss, dripping from the fat head. I couldn't resist.

I wrapped one oiled hand around the shaft mid-stream, started stroking slow while still pissing—filthy, forbidden, the warmth splashing over my fingers as I pumped. The sunglasses reflected everything: my smug face twisted in pleasure, beard dark against tanned skin, pecs heaving with every breath. The chain swung as I jerked faster, piss tapering off into pure pre-cum now, slicking the glide.

"Fuck yes," I growled, voice echoing off the bathroom walls. "Pissing and stroking in your body... my body. Gonna cum so hard everyone hears it."

Hand flew now—twisting at the head, squeezing the base, milking every inch of this thick, veined cock. Balls drew up tight, abs clenched into steel ridges. I bounced the pecs one last time, pinched a nipple hard, and lost it.

The orgasm hit like a freight train—whole body flexing, quads popping, glutes clenching on the seat as rope after thick rope shot out. Cum splattered my oiled abs, chest, even hit the chain and dripped down between the pecs. I milked it relentlessly, groaning loud and deep, sunglasses hiding the roll of my eyes as wave after wave emptied these heavy balls I'd been edging for hours.

Finally spent, cock twitching in my grip, cum pooling in the ridges of my abs, piss and oil and seed all mixed in the filthiest mess. I leaned back, breathing hard, admiring the wreckage in the mirror.

This body is mine forever now. Possessed, claimed, used exactly how I want.

[next-gen-men]

December 12th - Body Suit - Benny

Curious about what's happened to Ethan and what's coming next? Check out the master post here!

-------------------------

The stockings hang high next to Santa’s little chute, But things always feel snug when wearing a tight suit.

When Benjamin had asked the rest of the friend group to accompany him out to the club for his birthday, everyone had agreed to a night out. It was a good way of celebrating the end of the semester, and it wasn't often that the other man had asked to go out. Benjamin was the notorious introvert and homebody of the group, usually saying no to going out or leaving early so he could head back home. So when he suggested going out for his celebrations, it was a significant deal to everyone else.

And so, Ethan found himself in the middle of a thumping club, with loud music blasting in his ears and the heavy bass sending vibrations through his body. The rest of their friends were off in the middle of the dance floor, tearing up the scene as they were busy having the night of their lives. But Benjamin had asked Ethan if he could accompany him in getting a drink, and the two hovered on the side at the bar, watching the night unfold.

"How's the night going? Having fun with your birthday?" he asked Benjamin, leaning over to yell in his friend's ear over the loud music. The introvert nodded slowly, a small smile lingering on his lips as his eyes scanned around the room. If Ethan didn't know any better, he could have guessed that Benjamin was having second thoughts about going out, already thinking of a way for him to head home early.

"Ah, ah, none of those thoughts," Ethan teased as he nudged the other's shoulders. "I can practically see what you're thinking. Here. Take a shot with me, and I'll have you pick out the hottest dancer around here. Maybe we can see if they'll give you some special attention for your birthday," he hummed as he turned around to accept his order for two shots of vodka from the bartender. Handing it over to the birthday boy, he nodded his head out towards the crowd. "Alright, so who's the best looking to you?"

Situated throughout the space were small, elevated platforms, adorned with glowing RGB lights that pulsed in time to the music. Each platform had a stripper pole that rose up to the building and just enough space for the dancers to wriggle their hips and gyrate in the space. There were several shirtless, sweaty, and practically naked male dancers, each one moving their body around in a way that invited the club's patrons to stuff their skimpy thongs with dollar bills. The bodies were close enough for people to grope and squeeze as they liked, although the dancers could gently move away if it ever became too much for them. Still, they were the main feature of the place, as most people had their sights locked on the dancers as they stripped down to less and less clothing.

Ethan watched as Benjamin's eyes shifted towards one of the dancers close to the main stage, and he could see why. The other man moved like he was the star of the place, the crown jewel that made everyone beg for a taste. Ethan grinned at his friend's choice, only wiggling his brows as he reached down to grab his hand. "Well, don't just stand there then! I bet he's waiting to thrust his hips against a cutie like you!" he yelled, pulling Benjamin along from the bar towards the dancer, who was busy giving an overeager patron a very public lap dance.

Weaving in and out of the crowd, Ethan had managed to bring them right up to the side of the platform, staring down at the dancer until he noticed them. Fishing out a wad of dollar bills from his wallet, he placed them in the birthday boy's hand and gently nudged him forward. Gesturing towards the stripper, he grinned as he pointed at Benjamin. "It's his birthday tonight! He thinks you're the hottest one in here!"

The dancer glanced at the introvert, now clutching the money tightly out of sheer shyness. To his credit, Benjamin didn't pull away and seemed willing to have some more fun with the dancer if he could relax for a bit. Grinning at the new cutie, the dancer practically tugged Benjamin up onto the platform with him, letting him take a seat where the other patron had previously been sitting just a few moments ago. "Just have fun with me tonight! I promise I'll make it worth your time!"

Pleased with the turn of events, Ethan whooped and hollered as his introverted friend had the dance of a lifetime. Pulling out his phone, he casually flicked past his apps, unwittingly scrolling past the Advent calendar and tapping his daily notice to get to his camera app. Ethan planned on filming it all so he could show the rest of their friends what they had been up to. That, or just for Benjamin to keep for his private records afterwards. His brows raised in surprise as he saw the dancer finish up on his friend, only to lean in close and whisper something into Benjamin's ear that caused the introvert to blush furiously in response.

"What'd he say to you?" Ethan asked as Benjamin had rejoined him by his side, the two of them slipping away back into the crowd to grab some more drinks.

"For me to meet him in the back in ten! It's when he's off stage. He wants to give me a more private show!" Benjamin yelled back over the din of the club, the giddiness and sheer excitement evident in his voice.

Ethan could only whoop and holler some more, slapping his friend on the back out of excitement for him. Benjamin, for the most part, seemed just as pleased. However, he had cautiously asked for Ethan to accompany him when he did go back there, on the off chance that the dancer changed his mind and Benjamin could avoid wallowing in his embarrassment all on his lonesome.

At the given time, the two of them began making their way towards the back, slipping past the bouncers until they made their way towards the dancer's private rooms. Ethan followed along after his friend, amused at the way Benjamin seemed to walk with a renewed purpose. Stopping in front of a door with the name "Benny" in front, the grad student couldn't help but snort in mild amusement. Of course, Benjamin found the one dancer who had practically the same name as him. But he didn't say anything, only flanking the other's side as the birthday boy knocked on the door carefully.

To both of their surprise, the door pushed in, showing the waiting dancer sitting at a makeup vanity desk with his back towards them. Benjamin called out to him inquisitively, although his question received no response. Tilting his head towards the dancer for his friend to approach, Ethan followed after him into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. He had only just turned around to see his friend lightly tapping the other man's bare shoulder, as if to stir him awake. But he hadn't expected seeing the stripper deflate like a balloon being let of all air.

The trim and fit body, glinting with a mixture of glitter and sweat, erupted with a long burp of air billowing out of the dancer's mouth. It was like a wet, elongated fart, spilling out of the deflating body until all that was left was a thin and muscular strip of skin. Ethan gawked at the sight, stumbling deeper into the room to examine the… strange occurrence.

"What did you do?!"

"I didn't do anything! I just tried to see if he was awake or alive, and then he just– he just–!"

"Oh my god, oh my god! No one just deflates like that! What the fuck?!"

There was a clear sense of panic, a frenzy that seemed to overtake the room as Ethan fumbled with his phone, pulling it out nervously as he debated calling for the police. Did he even call the police? Would they consider them murderers? But what could even do that? There was no way either of them had anything on them that could cause a human being to deflate. He flicked open his lock screen, only to see the calendar app already primed and ready. The rhyming couplet seemed to stare back at him, as if taunting him about the turn of events.

His trance was cut off by Benjamin's soft voice, which cut through, a straightforward question adding to the immense confusion already taking place in the room.

"Do you… Do you think I could wear him?"

What. "What?"

But Benjamin's gaze was fixated on the dancer's mouth, a new glint in his eyes as he began examining the stretchy skin. "I… I heard of things like this. Like suits, you know? That just fits over you. I thought there'd be a zipper or something, but…" To prove his point, his fingers wrapped around the inside of the stripper's mouth, and he pulled.

Ethan gasped as he watched the deflated body stretch and extend to the point where it was clearly unnatural for anyone's mouth to move in that way. To Benjamin's point, the other's skin did seem more like a suit with how rubbery and elastic it extended. And while he wanted to tell his friend to stop so that they could go get help, Ethan couldn't help but watch in mild horror and macabre fascination as his friend began to step inside the stretched hole.

Bit by bit, the introvert's body was swallowed up by the stripper's extended hole of a mouth. In some ways, it was no different than putting on one of those inflatable Halloween costumes or a mascot costume. But it was disconcertingly human-like in this suit. Benjamin grunted as he wriggled into the suit, gasping as the skin clung to his own body. While the dancer had a tall, muscular frame, the skinsuit was clinging to every bit of him as he made his way in. Benjamin stared back at Ethan, with all that was left being the dancer's head wrapping over his own. With a soft, shaky breath, Benjamin gasped as he pulled over the last bit.

Ethan was greeted by the sight of the dancer standing in the place where his friend had been. The taller man was in the middle of exploring his body, tugging up his shirt as he groped and squeezed at his muscles. The sensual dancer moaned with each squeeze, his body trembling at the mere touch as he played with himself. It wasn't until he opened his eyes and saw Ethan staring back at him that the stripper stopped mid-exploration, leaving those perfect abs on full display for his friend to ogle at.

"Sorry, he just… feels so sensitive against my skin. It's like this body is mine or something. I didn't think that would actually work," Benny murmured breathlessly as he let his fingers slide down over his nipples and trace down the V-line just above the waistline of his tight shorts. "It's like he's primed to be touched… It's so hard to even think straight when all I want to feel is people putting their hands all over my body and rubbing every last bit of his muscles…"

Glancing away from the more sexual and lewd display his friend was putting on, Ethan huffed as he stepped closer to him. There was such a cocky and confident expression that lingered on Benny's face, as if the other man knew that he was hot stuff and could get people to do whatever he asked. Ethan's hands darted out before he even realized it, letting them grope and squeeze at the other's flexed biceps. "It… It feels like it's you…" He gasped in amazement. There were no gaps or pockets of air from what he could feel. It was as if Benjamin had never existed, or was at least swallowed up in the entirety of Benny. Whatever hard-earned muscles the dancer had before certainly felt the same as what Ethan was squeezing at now. There was no way of knowing that this was a suit, much less that his former homebody friend was buried underneath that taut skin.

Moaning as he felt Ethan's fingers poke and prod at his body, Benny shuddered as he threw his arms behind his head. He assumed a natural bodybuilding pose, allowing his muscles to flex as he contorted into the most comical expression he could manage. "Fuck man, I could do anything in this body. I can pretend to be the dumbest dude out there, and guys would still fall to their feet begging for me to let them worship me," he groaned as a strand of drool spilled out the corner of his mouth. Benny grinned at the stupid, himbo-like expression he was making, letting the light dim from his eyes as he appeared more empty-headed. "Ain't nothing going on in here now except for all the cocks I'm gonna suck tonight. I bet this mouth has been trained to fit in all sorts of sizes; you saw how greedy Benny was swallowing me up. He was practically begging me to take over and wear his skin. Show everyone just how slutty he can really be when I'm in control."

Watching as his friend took control of the dancer's body, Ethan whimpered as Benny leaned in to seal their lips together in a firm and passionate kiss. He could feel the dancer's wet tongue slipping down his mouth, any moans and whimpers swallowed up in the messy make-out session between the two of them. Benny wrapped his arms around the smaller man, keeping Ethan pressed up against his bare chest. It wasn't until they had to break for air that the dancer finally pulled away, only staring down at Ethan with a smirk on his lips. That teasing tongue slipped out once more, making a show of licking up any stray droplets of saliva.

"Delicious… Just for you, I want to put on a little show… You'll let me do that, right? As a thank you for staying with me all night and making sure I was comfortable. And for letting me celebrate my birthday the way I wanted to," Benny purred as he carefully pushed Ethan back until he was stumbling back into a chair behind him. The young man sat down without a word, only staring up with wide eyes as his friend stepped away to begin his little private show.

Benny's movements were slow and sensual, in stark contrast to the fast-paced, thumping music just outside the door. With his friend wearing the dancer's bodysuit, Ethan watched as Benny ground his hips along the floor at a slow and careful pace. It was wildly intoxicating watching the other man move, and the stripper seemed to know exactly what he was thinking. Crawling towards Ethan on all fours, Benny didn't stop until his head was resting against the inside of the younger man's thighs. His tongue was slipping out once more, letting some drool fall as he pressed his nose up against Ethan's crotch. "Fuck… You smell so good here… You want to give me a taste of this, big boy? I wouldn't even mind riding it until the morning. This hole feels so empty without you," Benny whined as his nose prodded at the younger man's bulge.

The two of them were suddenly interrupted by the door opening, and a large, burly man eyed them with a rather impassive face. Whether he registered the pure look of surprise on either of their faces. The stranger didn't say. The bouncer didn't even seem bothered at the sight of the dancer crawling on the ground with his head clearly positioned for a more sexual act in mind. Instead, he glanced over at Benny, jerking his thumb towards the hallway behind him. 

"You're back on in five. You're closing out the night, remember? And put on something a little more show-stopping. The boss wants you to turn heads and catch eyes before you take it all off."

And without waiting for any recognition or response, the man left as quickly as he came, already moving to the next couple of rooms to inform the other dancers the same thing.

Ethan let out a shaky breath of relief that he didn't realize he was holding, only to look over at his friend shuffling through the duffel bag of outfits on the table next to where they had initially found the suit. "What are you doing?"

"Looking for something to wear! You heard them; I gotta wear something flashy to make everyone look at me," Benny said as he began pulling out some outfits. Unbothered if Ethan was watching him or not, the dancer began to dress himself in the middle of the room.

"But you don't work here!" Ethan protested, his brows glancing towards the door nervously in case the other man returned on them once more.

Benny hummed as he finished deciding on two outfits, swapping between the two to show them off for his friend in a slow, model-like turn. The dancer, to his credit, was enjoying the little display, savoring the way his skimpily dressed body showed off all the new muscles and curves to his enticing frame. “Ah, c’mon. It's just for one night. Besides, you've seen what I can do in this body. I don't think I'll have any trouble dancing on stage. Now, which outfit do you think looks better on me?"

Ethan sighed softly as he looked over the dancer's choices, knowing that once Benny had committed to doing something, there was no way anyone could talk him out of it. And if Benny wanted to have some fun dancing on stage in a body that wasn't his, who was he to refuse his friend that fun? "I think the first one could be pretty hot. I'm sure plenty of guys out tonight would have fantasies about a cowboy giving them lap dances or stripping on them," he hummed after careful consideration.

The dancer's eyes sparkled with delight, pleased with Ethan's decision. Benny quickly dressed himself in the suggested attire, testing it out only slightly with a simple sway of the hips and a roll of his body. "Yeah… oh, I like this. I can see myself dancing on people in a fit like this," he purred lowly, tugging his shorts down just a bit to flash the tight band of his thong. "Alright, I think I'm all set, cutie. Thanks for coming back here with me. I think I got my birthday wish granted this year, although it wasn't exactly the way I had imagined it."

Tilting his head as he looked at his friend curiously, Ethan couldn't stop himself as he asked, "What sort of wish did you have in mind?"

Benny's eyes glimmered with a hint of delightful glee now that he had asked, and the dancer only closed the distance between them once more. Keeping the smaller man pinned down to the chair, he climbed on top to let his fat bubble butt brush over Ethan's clothed bulge. The stripper wrapped his strong arms around his friend's head, pulling him in for another wet and sloppy kiss. He moaned sweetly into it, grinding and rolling his hips as he let both of them imagine what it would be like for Benny to sit on top of Ethan's cock later. 

"I wished for a cutie to make out with and make him kiss me until I saw stars. I just didn't think you would be the one to do it for me," he whispered back with a soft giggle. Benny stared down at Ethan for a long moment before finally unlatching himself with a soft peck and a sway of his hips.

"I'll see you out there, yeah? I just gotta swing by the bathroom and put on some more glitter. I'll make sure to think of you when I'm dancing up there," his friend called out as he left the dressing room with a wave of his hand.

Ethan sat there for a moment, staring at his own arousal pressing up against his pants after Benny's more erotic lap dance. His phone pinged in the dim lighting, showing a text from one of their friends asking where they were. As he stared at the screen dumbly, Ethan watched as the time switched to midnight. A soft chime indicated that the next day on his calendar app was open now for him to check in.

[spndxjcksblog]