The sun dipped low over the sprawling Miami mansion, painting the pool in golden hues as the frat party hit its peak. Music thumped from the DJ booth, red Solo cups floated in the water, and bodies—tan, toned, and barely clothed—packed the deck and pool. Brad, a cocky college junior with a body sculpted from years of heavy lifting and good genetics, lounged like a king in the shallow end. At 6’4” and 260 pounds of pure muscle, he was already the center of attention. But tonight, he had something special planned.
“You guys ready for the real show?” Brad grinned, his deep voice cutting through the laughter. His frat brothers cheered, knowing what was coming. The “party trick” had started as a joke in the house basement—a wild mix of experimental supplements, ancient supplements from some sketchy online forum, and Brad’s freakish physiology. It let him grow. Not just a little. Massive.
He flexed his massive chest, veins popping under oiled skin, and closed his eyes. The crowd quieted as his body began to hum. Muscles swelled first—his pecs ballooning outward, traps rising like mountains, arms thickening with striated power. Then the real change hit. Brad groaned, low and guttural, as his frame expanded. Water surged around him as he shot upward, legs lengthening, torso stretching. Ten feet. Fifteen. Twenty-five. The final surge brought him to a towering thirty feet tall, his colossal body filling half the pool. The water only reached his waist now, lapping at the deep V of his abs. His cock, already impressive at normal size, hung heavy and thick between thighs like redwood trunks, thickening visibly as the growth rush sent blood surging everywhere.
“Holy fuck,” someone whispered. Then the awe turned to lust.
The partygoers swarmed him like worshippers at the feet of a god. Hands reached out—dozens of them—pressing against his warm, slick skin. A group of sorority girls in tiny bikinis climbed onto his thighs, giggling and moaning as they ran their palms over the ridges of his quads. “Brad… you’re a fucking giant,” one breathed, her nipples hard against her top as she hugged the curve of his calf.
He smirked down at them, his voice booming. “That’s right. Touch me. All of you.”
A muscular frat brother hoisted himself up Brad’s arm, tracing the deep cuts of his bicep with reverent fingers. “This is insane, bro. So fucking hard…” The man pressed his face to the swell of Brad’s pec, inhaling the scent of chlorine and raw masculinity. Brad’s massive hand came down gently, guiding more people onto his body. Women straddled his shoulders, grinding subtly against the shelf of his traps while their hands explored the vast plains of his chest. Men joined in, bolder now, squeezing the striations of his abs, which flexed and rippled under their touch like living marble.
Brad’s cock stirred, rising slowly from the water—thick as a man’s arm, veined and pulsing. A few brave souls reached for it immediately. A curvy brunette in a pink bikini wrapped both arms around the base, stroking upward with wide-eyed hunger. “It’s so big,” she moaned. Two guys followed, their hands sliding along the underside, feeling it throb and grow even harder under the collective worship.
The night blurred into pure hedonism. Brad stood there like a living statue of lust, letting them explore every inch. Fingers traced his obliques, tongues flicked across his nipples (each the size of a fist now), and bodies rubbed against him in the warm water. He laughed deeply, the sound vibrating through everyone pressed to him, his own arousal building to a fever pitch.
As the party wound down and most guests drifted off in exhausted awe, Brad’s eyes locked on a select group still eager for more. Five of them—three women and two men, all dripping wet and flushed with desire. “You all coming with me,” he rumbled, scooping them up carefully in one massive hand.
He carried them to the private cabana behind the mansion, setting them down on the oversized cushions he’d claimed as his own. The group wasted no time. The women climbed his body first, kissing and licking the deep grooves of his abs while the men focused on his cock—now a towering monument of flesh they could barely wrap their hands around. One woman straddled his thick shaft, sliding her soaked pussy along its length while another sucked greedily at the swollen head, her lips stretched wide. The guys stroked what they could reach, their own hard cocks pressing against Brad’s balls as they worshipped.
“Fuck yes,” Brad groaned, his voice shaking the walls. He guided them with gentle but commanding hands, positioning one woman to ride his fingers while another took his tongue—its broad, hot surface lapping at her clit until she screamed. The men took turns grinding against him, lost in the overwhelming scale of his body. Orgasms crashed through the group in waves: the women shuddering and squirting across his chest, the men spilling over his abs as they jerked themselves off against his impossible muscles.
Brad held back until the end, savoring their desperate efforts to please him. When he finally came, it was explosive—a thick, endless flood that covered them all in warm, heavy ropes, marking them as his for the night. They collapsed onto him, panting, stroking his still-hard muscles in exhausted reverence.
“Best. Party. Trick. Ever,” one of the girls whispered, kissing the curve of his pec.
Brad just grinned, already feeling the faint tingle that meant he could do it all over again tomorrow.
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