So when I turned back to you, you were already sniffing the poppers.
“Dude!” I whispered, in indignation. “What the fuck?”
You just smirked at me, like you knew what it was about, even though I had no idea what was going on. You drank your cocktail in one sip, and just kept smirking. My foot was no longer pushing against your groin anymore, not since I had turned around, but I just knew you were still hard. That regard of complicity in you, it made me shiver, for a moment. You gave me the bottle so I could read the label. It just said “sniff me” in big black letters, like some kind of porno Alice in Wonderland parody featuring anal sex.
I noticed, then, you started sweating. Your skin glistened under the restaurant’s warm light, and you seemed odd. Like you weren’t comfortable inside your own skin, you seemed to be containing some kind of struggle within yourself. I saw a drop of sweat fall down your temple, from beneath the coils at the top of your hair, down into your faded undercut, and then just down your cheek.
That’s when I felt your knees bump against mine. Just like that, the solid pressure of your knees against mine, and then surrounding my legs. You smirked, and cursed, and looked everywhere around for some reason I couldn’t fathom at that point. I heard the stretching sounds of your clothes, your already wide shoulders becoming even wider, and the sleeves of your shirt struggling to contain your swelling muscles. I saw your feet beside me, down below, your shoes could barely contain your feet and I thought you might be in pain, but you didn’t express it. Then, with a loud rip, the shoes just burst, and I saw your toes emerge from the broken leather, and the mouth of your shoe stretched around your ankle, unable to withstand its growing girth.
When I looked up again, away from your growing legs, I realised you were much taller than before.
All that sweating must’ve made you thirsty, because you went to lift your glass of water, and when you did, your sleeve just ripped at the seams, it just… exploded. It would’ve been hilarious, if it hadn’t been so hot. You just watched it, eyes wide open, fall onto the table. All I could look at, at that point, was your bulging bicep, perhaps as big as my own head. I was so entranced by it, so completely taken by that peaking muscle…
Something hit me right in the face, and it awakened me from my trance. I looked down on my plate and saw it was a button, from your shirt, that had come out flying like a projectile. Inevitably, I looked at your shirt: your chest had grown so huge, so powerful, the buttons had become completely useless, a joke. Another button shot out from your shirt, and hit my right in the chest.
“Restroom,” you said.
You pushed your chair back and it creaked with a horrendous sound, as if it were on the verge of breaking. You were careful enough not to push the table into me, which I appreciated, and I still do. Then you stomped towards the restrooms, with your shirt torn at the seams, sleeveless now and, on your back, a huge rip, like a trench, that had opened all across it, vertically. Your pants were in a similar state, the two legs shredded to strips that hung from your waist. As for your shoes, they were barely there anymore, your feet had completely destroyed them, and they were in the process of tearing your socks apart next.
Everyone was looking at me, after that happened. You had stormed out and they were left looking at me, but they weren’t surprised, or scared, they were just… annoyed. Like they disapproved of what had just happened. I remember I wanted to shout to all of them “fuck off!” but I didn’t. The two twinks on the other table just looked at me with furrowed eyebrows, like I was somehow guilty or making a scene.
“Cunts,” I said.
So I went after you. I got into the restroom and saw there were four stalls. I could hear you moan and grunt, like some sort of wild animal, a beast unleashed all of a sudden. I approached the stall you were in and I asked:
“Hey, Rick, you alright?”
“F-FUCK, Laz… Laz, I’m growing... “ your voice sounded so deep, so manly, even manlier than it already is. “I’m fucking growing!”
“Dude, calm down, please, I…”
At the time I was a bit desperate, but I have to admit it was also so hot. I needed to see it, I wanted to see it. So I kind of just… Dropped down to all fours, and watched under the stall. I could see your feet against the floor, and right then I saw what was left of your shoes at the heels just burst into pieces, while your socks had stretched so thin they looked like onion skin, and they were drenched in sweat. The whole stall smelled of your musk, probably the whole bathroom too.
You turned around and kicked the stall door down. It flew right above me and hit against the other side of the restroom, shattering a mirror and falling on the floor with a loud series of thuds, like a coin ebbs.
And so there I was, at your feet, still on all fours. I swear, you had to be at least seven feet tall, and your muscular figure was tremendous, unlike anything I’ve ever seen before in my life. You towered above me like a Greek god from myth, your muscles ballooning with power and strength, your skin glistening with beads of sweat. You then squatted down, and your pants simply ripped into pieces until you were only in your underwear, which revealed the outline of your godly cock under the strained fabric, its meat hard as rock and so gargantuanly big that the tip reached your hip. Below it, I saw your balls were about to make the fabric burst with their weight, like two massive oranges, or even bigger.
In your hand, you still had the bottle of poppers, and it was so fucking tiny, even smaller than your thumb.
“Laz… You gotta do it…” you said, and the husky tone in your voice almost made me cum all by itself…
So I did it, I took the bottle in my hand, and when I felt your skin on mine it was as though it burned. The heat coming from your body was intense, and so was your musk. Not a stink, but an intense scent that screamed with the musky power of man. As if it had grown more intense and manlier, the more your muscles grew.
I raised the bottle to my nose and sniffed.
I remember the feeling then, a heat traversing my entire body, a heat so… so hot, like scalding coffee down my throat but instead just going down my nose, reaching my lungs, and then down my spine and then filling every limb, as though my body had been empty inside, and suddenly that heat had filled it.
You smiled, then. You smirked, when you saw me squirm like I did.
I began to sweat, just like you, my clothes started to get drenched.
“Sniff it more.”
And I obeyed.
