Spread it Around, ch. 2 (Patreon)

Zach scrubbed himself hurriedly in the shower at the gym, itching to finally get out to the bars and get his evening underway.  The minutes had passed painfully slow all afternoon while he’d sat in class.  They always did.  He was about to graduate with his bachelor’s degree in business, but he couldn’t tell you half of what he’d actually learned if you’d asked him.  His mind was always either on the night before or on the one to come.  Hooking up and partying were much higher priorities than studying or attending class.  He was in his early twenties, still in his prime, he’d say as an excuse.  He had to take advantage of it now, while he could, before he got old and fat.  

Or at least that’s what he told himself as he slept through class.  The reality was that he just didn’t want to grow up.  He still had his cute, boy-next-door face and dark, wavy brown hair, but from the neck down there was nothing boyish about him.  He hit the gym every night to keep his figure tight and lean.  Unlike his friends Keaton and Matt, he wasn’t interested in getting big.  That required more of an effort and a lifestyle change than he was willing to make at the moment.  Muscles had to be maintained, and that would cut in to his partying time.  As it was, the lack of sleep and copious amounts of alcohol weren’t at all evident on his ripped frame.  His modest, sculpted pecs stood out proudly between his solid shoulders and defined arms as they sat atop his tiny, shredded waist.  The long, dangling cock between his slight, solid thighs looked even larger against the thin legs that were capped by a small, perky ass.  His skin was naturally smooth, which added to his boyish charm and let his defined muscles stand out that much more.  

He wrapped his towel around his waist and headed over to the mirrored counter to fix his hair and check out his overall look.  He liked to save his workouts until just before he was going out so he could be nice and pumped at the bar, and the gym was usually less crowded by that time.  Matt and Keaton were always trying to get him to work out with them, but the afternoons were his nap time so he could stay out as late as he needed later.  

It was the relative emptiness of the locker room that let Zach see the guy eying him from the other side.  He thought he’d caught the man watching him out on the floor, but now he was sure of it.  He remembered Keaton and Matt telling him about some creeper that watched them, but based on their description that guy should have been older.  The man watching him now looked to be in his early forties, but the guy they described was at least a decade older.  

Zach shrugged it off.  He was annoyed by how blatant the man was being, but if someone wanted to look, he’d let them.  The young man thought of himself as entirely straight, though he’d gotten drunk and made out with a guy before.  They’d done it to impress a pair of girls, but Zach hadn’t hated the experience.  And from an objective point of view, the man checking him out was impressive.  For someone middle aged, the man had a ripped, well-muscled build, and Zach was more than a little envious of the huge bulge in the older man’s small briefs.  Knowing full well that the man’s eyes were on him, he let his towel drop back at his locker and slowly pulled out his pair of boxers.  Instead of putting them on, he set them on the bench behind him and grabbed his protein shake.  

“Hey,” he nodded, turning towards the other man and making direct eye contact.  He watched the other man look him up and down slowly, not expecting the slight grin that broke out on the older man’s face before, without saying anything, he turned back to his locker.  

Zach slugged back the rest of his shake and pulled his boxers on.  His ambivalent attitude was gone; he was officially creeped out by the older guy.  There had been a predatory feel to his smile that Zach had seen on the faces of plenty of guys while they watched girls at the bar.  Gay or straight, he knew what those kind of guys were like and wanted nothing to do with them.  He slid on his tight jeans and buttoned up his snug, short sleeve black shirt.  The outfit showed off his lean body, but he decided against giving himself another once-over in the mirror.  He was just eager to get away. 

He sent a text to Keaton and Matt with the man’s description as soon as he was outside.  It was entirely possible that there was just more than one creeper at their gym, but something in his gut told him the man was the same.  It wasn’t just his appearance; it was the way the man watched him.  He looked hungry, and not in the metaphorical sense.  

Zach tried to push it from his mind as he reached the bar.  He needed to get his game-face on.  He missed having his friends with him to act as wingmen, but that also meant there was less competition, which was fine with him.  He took a deep breath and pulled on the door, his head suddenly spinning.  He clutched at the frame to keep from falling over until the dizzy spell passed.  

“What the fuck was that…” he said, rubbing his forehead while the world settled into place around him.  He’d been feeling odd since leaving the gym and hoped he wasn’t coming down with something.  Part of his brain told him to go home and sleep it off, but Zach had no intention of missing a night out.  That feeling of being “off” included him being hornier than usual, and he was determined to not have to use his hand later.  

His hopes were further dashed as he sauntered up to the bar and didn’t see as many women as usual.  He told himself it was still early and took up a stool as he ordered a beer.  Though the dizziness had passed, he shifted on the seat uncomfortably.  He felt sluggish and tired and couldn’t get his thoughts together.  

“I hope this isn’t the fuckin’ flu or something,” he said, taking a swig of his beer to clear the scratchiness he heard in his voice.  He checked his phone to see if either of his friends had responded, annoyed by the man that had taken to standing close behind him.  He’d been watching the reflection of the man out of his peripheral vision and he hadn’t budged.  The bar was still largely empty, so Zach didn’t see why the man felt the need to stand directly behind him.  

“Just my night for old creepers,” he muttered, loud enough that he hoped the man would hear and take the hint as he looked at his phone.  

He saw that he’d missed a response from Matt.  “Sounds like the same weirdo,” the first message read.  Followed, confusingly, by, “dude, who’s the other number on this group text?”  

“It’s Keaton,” he responded, not sure how Matt wouldn’t know that.  The three of them texted each other constantly.  He waited a few minutes, still watching the man in the mirror behind him, before he saw the three pulsing dots on his screen indicating a response was coming.  

This time the message was even more confusing.  “Who is this?”

“Very funny,” Zach typed back.  He was starting to feel uneasy.  He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach.  

Another message from Matt.  “Seriously, who is this?” 

“It’s Zach, dumbass.”  

“Sorry dude, I don’t know any Zach.”  

The addled man just stared at his screen, not sure how to respond.  Matt had never pulled a stunt like this before.  He put his phone down and grabbed his drink, coughing when the sharp bite of whiskey unexpectedly hit his tongue.  

“Shit! Sorry,” he said, turning to the person next to him whose drink he’d just mistakenly grabbed.  The seat was empty and his beer was nowhere in sight.  Thinking it had to belong to the man behind him, he spun on his stool only to find no one there.  “What the hell is going...on…” 

Zach’s jaw dropped when he spun back to face the bar.  The older man hadn’t been standing behind him; he was the older man.  He reached a shaking hand up to his fuller, stubble-covered cheeks and felt the roughness of his palm on the weathered skin of his face.  Hair that should have been thick and wavy was cut short and looked like it was thinning.  Though his hair looked thinner, the rest of him looked the exact opposite.  Zach stared at the broader shoulders and beefy arms that strained against his tight shirt.  The top two buttons weren’t even close to being able to close, exposing a tuft of hair and an impossible amount of pec cleavage.  The bar cut his reflection in half and he looked frantically down at himself, gasping at the sight of a thick, solid gut straining against the shirt above a set of wide thighs that were stuffed into the tight denim.  

His heart started racing and he took another draw from his whiskey, this time feeling comforted by the somehow-familiar burning sensation.  Zach didn’t understand that, either.  He stuck to vodka or beer; he couldn’t stand whiskey.  

“Okay...okay...this is fine…” he stammered, clearing his throat in a futile attempt to make his voice sound less hoarse.  His head was spinning and he couldn’t focus his thoughts against the loudened, pulsing music that started blaring behind him.  “I need to go…” he said, his voice lost in the din.  He tried to signal the bartender, but saw that the now-shirtless man was busy with a suddenly full bar.  Zach looked over an enlarged shoulder and saw that the place had gone from mostly empty to entirely full.  Bright lights flashed above a crowded dance floor that was full of men.  The entire bar was, without a woman in sight.  “Is this the same place I even…?”  

Zach’s question was cut off by a hand on his shoulder, and he turned to see a handsome blonde smiling at him.  The man looked to be in his late twenties, with a lean face and a solid build.  He was sweating and shirtless, showing off his perfect pecs and washboard stomach with his t-shirt tucked into the waist of his jeans.  

“You need another drink?” The man yelled above the music, motioning to Zach’s empty glass.  

Before Zach could respond, the man signaled to the bartender and another whiskey was set in front of him.  “Uh...thanks…” he said, frazzled by the intense arousal he felt looking at the other man.  

“Cheers!”  The man’s bright smile made Zach’s stomach flutter as they clinked glasses.  “I’m Doug,” he said, leaning in close so he wouldn’t have to shout.  

Zach shivered against the other man’s warm breath on his ear, feeling a sudden urge to lean into the solid body next to him.  “Zach,” he said, turning so that their noses almost touched.  

“You okay Zach?”  Doug asked, putting a hand on Zach’s inflated thigh.  “You looked a little lonely sitting up here.”  

Zach didn’t know how to respond.  None of this made sense.  His altered appearance, the change to the bar, his friend’s texts; none of it should have been possible.  He should have wanted to run screaming into the night in a blind panic.  He looked at least ten years older.  The youth that he was so obsessed with was apparently vanishing before his very eyes, but all he really wanted was the man next to him.  The hand on his thigh was driving him wild.  “Long day,” he said, taking another drag of the whiskey.  

“How about we finish these drinks and go work some of that tension out on the dance floor?”  

Zach grinned and shot back the rest of his drink, noticing how small the glass looked in his increasingly meaty hand.  Doug grabbed his other hand and pulled him along, and soon Zach found himself in a writhing sea of sweaty men.  Ordinarily he wasn’t much of a dancer, but in that moment he loved every second of it.  The feeling of the men rubbing up against him was intoxicating.  Doug continually squirmed against him, grinning every time he would reach down to squeeze the now-solid lump in Zach’s jeans or grind his perky bubble against it.  

When Doug reached over and started unbuttoning Zach’s shirt, he let him.  It was starting to feel confining anyway, Zach told himself.  He tucked it in the back of his jeans and gasped when Doug lunged forward, pressing against him as he planted a rough kiss.  Zach’s knees went weak at the feeling of the man’s smooth, solid body squirming against his thick, hairy torso.  His hands were all over the now-younger Doug, and before he knew it they were stumbling into the bathroom in each other’s arms.  

“Jesus you’re so fuckin’ hot,” Doug sighed, pushing Zach up against a wall.  The now-older man’s hairy, beefy chest heaved as Doug worked his mouth down the squat neck and through the dense fur.  Zach knew this was all wrong as Doug’s mouth drifted across his wide muscle gut and his hands fumbled with Zach’s jeans.  Instead of the boxers he’d put on, Zach saw he was squeezed into a pair of bright red briefs, but his attention was soon focused on the long, thick monster that Doug fished out.  It was the same length as always, but it was nearly twice as wide.  

Zach didn’t get to look at it long before most of it disappeared into Doug’s mouth.  He sighed and groaned loudly, feeling a rush of embarrassment.  Men were coming and going in the bathroom around them, but they just gave him an approving smile or wink.  The few who stopped to watch surprisingly only turned him on more.  He ran one rough paw through Doug’s full blonde scalp while the other rubbed through his own now-sparse hair.  While the rest of him had sprouted a forest, he felt a large bald patch on his head.  Desperately, he shifted the two of them so he could see into one of the mirrors.  His hair hadn’t just continued to thin, it, along with his scrubby stubble, was peppered with flecks of grey.  Somehow, he’d continued to age.  The man whose full, crevice-lined face was gasping with pleasure in the mirror had to belong to someone in their forties.  His torso had continued to thicken with unrefined muscle, leaving him burly and bearish instead of lean and cut.  From the side-on view that he had of the mirror, he could see how far his muscled gut protruded in the front, and how much is now-massive cheeks stuck out in the back.  It was as if his lower half had exploded with flesh.  Legs that should have been toned were round, solid trunks barely contained by the straining jeans.  Zach saw that Doug’s face bobbing between them, a face that should have been close to his own age, now looked obviously young by comparison.  

“I’m gonna...gggnnnngggggggg!” Zach let out a deep moan in his new voice and sprayed into Doug’s eager mouth.  He still looked at his girthy new cock in disbelief when the younger man pulled away, but only for as long as it took to drop to his own knees to return the favor.  He kissed and licked at Doug’s washboard abs, a stomach like the one he knew he should have, while he undid the blonde man’s pants.  He tongued Doug’s musky underwear before fishing the long rod free and swallowing nearly all of it.  

“MMMMMmm….yes daddy…” Doug purred.  

The feeling of the younger man’s fingers rubbing against his now-balding scalp drove Zach on.  His new body was moving on its recently acquired muscle memory as his head bobbed and his tongue squeezed.  Before long, he had Doug whimpering and moaning ecstatically, the sound filling him with pride.  Somehow, it felt like he’d done this countless times.  

“I can still teach you youngsters a thing or two,” Zach said around the pulsing organ in his mouth as he squeezed Doug’s young, firm cheeks.  He could feel himself slipping.  He tried to hold on to the young, straight college student that he knew he was in his mind, but Young Zach flowed through his grip like water.  He didn’t know who or what he was anymore.  When Doug came, he sucked down the familiar, salty liquid the way he’d slugged back his bourbon; like it was something he did every day.  He wasn’t even embarrassed anymore about blowing a guy in public.  It too felt totally commonplace.  When he stood and Doug’s hand rested on one of his furry pecs, he relished the sensation.  

“You can teach me all you want,” Doug grinned, pulling Zach in close and sliding a hand down the back of his jeans.  The older man felt an electric jolt when Doug kneaded one of his ample globes.  “Why do you keep these things hidden back here?  Come on...if you wanna show us how it’s done, then show us.”  

Zach raised and eyebrow and grinned, working his jeans down his beefy thighs and around his widened feet.  When he stood and saw his bulging, hairy reflection in nothing but the tiny briefs, he didn’t feel horror.  He felt a rush of pride at knowing he still looked good for someone his age.  Part of his brain reeled at the thought, screaming that it was all wrong, but it didn’t stop him from following Doug back out onto the dance floor in nothing but his tiny underwear.  

*********

David swayed on his feet, smiling triumphantly as he felt the years literally melt off his body.  The feeling of his biceps inflating and his waist shrinking was overwhelming.  He pulled out his phone and checked his reflection, noting the thick, full head of dark, wavy hair.  His face was entirely free of wrinkles now and looked to be just over thirty.  

He watched the bearish new Zach writhing on the dance floor in nothing but his bright red briefs, remembering how the young man had teased him with his tight, lean body earlier that day.  It had been a simple matter for David to slip the powder into Zach’s protein shake while the then-younger man had been in the shower.  

“Only one more,” he said to himself, heading down to the dance floor to inspect his work.