A Day At The Beach (Patreon)

Luke stared at the mostly empty beach, grinning from ear to ear. All he saw in either direction was open sand and empty surf. There was the occasional fisherman but he didn't mind them; they’d earned their time, too. 

It was a perfect early fall day. The tourists were gone, the sun was shining, the air was still warm and humid, and the waves were high. The guys had been waiting and working all summer for a day just like it. From May to Early September the beaches were full of out-of-towners and the guys, like so many other locals, were too busy working for them to enjoy their surroundings. 

“Looks like a winner,” Luke said, shielding his eyes from the early morning sun hovering just above the horizon. 

“It's about time,” Grady sighed, his broad chest heaving as he took a deep, relieved breath. Both men were looking forward to being in the water without a screaming kid or a helpless swimmer to worry about.  

The pair ran a surf shop, which meant they spent their days teaching pudgy, unsteady midwesterners how to stay upright on a board. Their days were filled with arrogant dads and spoiled children who thought surfing would be easy, and who wanted a refund when they couldn't so much as stay vertical for more than thirty seconds at a time. 

Both men had been at it long enough now that they didn't even hear the complaints anymore. At first they'd prayed for a shark attack, whether for them or the tourists they didn't particularly care; they just wanted it to end. Now both men had mastered the art of smiling and nodding so they could at least enjoy being out in the sun and surf all day while getting paid. At 24 years each, it wasn't like there were a lot of other opportunities in a middle-of-nowhere coastal town for two young men with high school diplomas where tourism was the only industry. Food, retail, construction, or “service” jobs like theirs was it. If dealing with snotty tourists meant they could stay by their beloved ocean, they'd cope. Moving inland and away from the water wasn't even an option. 

“Alright guys,” Grady said, slapping the side of the jeep, “we’re good to go!  Come on out, princess.”

A short, burly man clambered out of the jeep, having to contort his wide, powerful frame to slide from the backseat.  His stubble-covered cheeks were red with embarrassment as he peeled off his tight shirt, letting the sun wash over his bulging, furry pecs.  He hesitated at his loose basketball shorts, his hands resting against the furry trail running down his firm stomach.  “You guys are such assholes…” 

“Hey, you’re the one who took the bet, Mace,” Grady said firmly.  “Not our fault your team lost.”  

Mason grumbled and pulled his basketball shorts down.  Underneath was a smaller pair of hot pink women’s shorts with “Beach Princess” written across the ass.  The shorts strained around Mason’s thick, meaty thighs and weren’t much more than a pink strip across his backside, leaving most of his round, hairy globes hanging out.  The front left nothing to the imagination as it pulled away from his abdomen under the weight of his hefty package.  He was nicknamed “Mace” because it looked like he had one hanging between his hirsute thighs.  The stocky man spread his beefy arms and turned in a circle to let his friends get a good look.  “Everyone happy now,” he asked, tugging at the bottoms of the shorts as one of his heavy balls threatened to escape.  

“We might have screwed ourselves with this one,” Dave, the last to emerge from the Jeep, laughed.  “We’re gonna have to look at that all day.”  

“Drink it in, fellas.”  Mason broke into a double bicep pose and gave his thick cheeks a bounce.  His work as a contractor left his stout body covered in firm, unsculpted muscle.  He and Dave spent their days fixing up rental properties and their nights hooking up with out of town women.  The two had a standing competition to see who could score the most throughout the week, but most of the time it was an even split between the stocky beefcake with the boy-next-door face, and the ripped, ebony-skinned man with the perfect cheekbones and charming smile.  

Dave gave one of Mason’s plump cheeks a swat.  At an even six feet, the handsome stud wasn’t overly tall, but he stood a whole head above his scantily clad friend.  His broad shoulders and perfect pecs strained under the yellow tank top that popped against his dark skin and hung loose over his washboard stomach, while his blue board shorts showed off his tight, perky bubble and set of toned, solid legs.   “You’ve officially ruined those shorts for me,” he laughed, looking down the beach to the lone fisherman nearby.  “I think that’s Jerry over there...I’m gonna go see if anything’s biting.”  

Down the beach, Jerry stared out into the water, watching his line for any signs of movement.  He recognized the group of guys unpacking the Jeep, annoyed that his solitude was interrupted.  He knew they were just as eager to get out into the water as he was to fish without any of the tourists, but at more than twice their age, he had reached the point in his life where he valued solitude more than anything.  He just wanted to fish and be left alone, something that wasn’t going to happen when he saw Dave walking towards him.  

“Mornin’ Jerry,” Dave said, shaking the other man’s rough hand before folding his sculpted arms across his chest.  “Anything biting?”  

Jerry shook his head, surveying the waves.  “Not yet.  Been here two hours already.  Haven’t seen much of anything, really.  No gulls, no dolphins...nothin’,” he mumbled gruffly.  “It’s odd...day like this should have ‘em bitin’ plenty.”  

“I brought my gear….I was gonna set up at the other end.  I’ll let you know if anything’s biting up that way.”  

Jerry nodded.  “Appreciate it.  Figures...damn tourists leave and take the fish with ‘em!  I...whoa!”  The older man was cut off when his line twitched abruptly, bending his rod in half.  “Got one!”  He jumped into action, fighting with the reel and the jerking rod as whatever was hooked on the other end fought for its freedom.  “Damn!  It’s a big’un!”  

“Jeez…” Dave whistled, watching Jerry’s steely arms flex.  The older man operated a charter boat, and though he’d put on some middle-aged paunch, Dave knew that in his younger days Jerry had been every bit as fit as himself.  Underneath that weathered skin and spare tire, those muscles strained to pull in the catch.  “Shark, maybe?”  

“No…I don’t know what it is…” Jerry grunted, taking a few steps back, then forward, then back again.  It was a game to see who would tire out first.  “I’ve caught every fish in these waters...ain’t had anything fight like this.”  

Dave watched as Jerry slowly gained ground.  His piston arms were steadily cranking the reel, drawing the catch in closer and closer until they could see a large lumpy shape.  “What the fuck is that…” he said under his breath when its top half broke the surface.  

Jerry was determined.  “Beats me, but I’m bringin’ it in.”  He gave a final tug and pulled the mysterious catch through the breaking surf to shore.  

“Ugh!  What is it?!”  Dave’s stomach turned at the sight.  He’d seen plenty of weird creatures and strange looking remains wash up on shore over the years, but he’d never seen anything that looked even remotely like this.  The creature was long, at least six feet, and covered in mottled, slimy green scales.  It’s round, flabby body had four sets of fins, but it was the head that caught their attention.  The shape and placement of the features suggested an appearance too close to human for comfort.  It had a set of round, bulging fish eyes and a wide gash of a mouth.  There were two other openings that gave the appearance of ears, and the gills were on the sides of what could have been called a neck.  “Have...have you ever seen one of those before?”  

Jerry took an involuntary step back, shaking his head.  Like with Dave, something about the very sight of the creature was repellant.  Every one of his sea-sharpened instincts was telling him he was in the presence of something he shouldn’t be.  “No...I don’t think anyone’s seen one of these before.”  He thought of all the legends and drunken tales of strange sightings he’d heard over the years and wondered if he shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss them.  

“Should we...put it back?”  Dave leaned in to see where the creature was hooked.  It’s twisting had tangled it in the line, meaning they’d both have to touch it if they were going to set it free.  

“Do you wanna touch it?” Jerry spat.  

“No, but we…” Dave’s words were drowned out when the creature opened its mouth and screamed.  

The fit young man saw it happening in slow motion.  The thing’s mouth fell open and a shrill, piercing shriek came flooding out, hitting them like a physical force.  He saw Jerry’s salt-and-pepper hair blow back as if in a strong wind just before the older man’s clothes disintegrated.  The plaid button down dissolved into a mass of particles and blew free, and Dave barely had time to register that he was suddenly looking at Jerry’s exposed gut and burly chest before the man’s cargo shorts followed suit, leaving him in a pair of ratty boxers.  Dave watched the billowing pieces of clothing, no bigger than grains of sand, float away on the breeze, looking back just in time to see Jerry ripple.  

There was no other word for it.  It was like looking at a reflection of the older man on the surface of a pond that someone dropped a rock into.  And with each rippling wave, Jerry was changing.  His rough, weathered skin started to smooth.  The wiry hairs that were spread over his torso and legs vanished as he started to lose more and more mass.  His arms dwindled, his chest flattened, and his stomach shrunk.  His face was changing too, losing all of its wrinkles and rough edges.  His thinning, salt and pepper hair settled into a thick mane of jet black which, along with his eyebrows, appeared to be the only hair left on his softened frame.  In the blink of an eye, Jerry’s age appeared to cut in half, the salty, rugged fisherman replaced by a smooth, lithe twink of a man.  Even the dingy white boxers had changed into a tight, white thong that showed off Jerry’s shrunken little nub and newly inflated rear.  

It was all happening so fast that Dave didn’t have time to notice the changes to his own body until after they’d occurred.  He’d been so intent on watching Jerry’s transformation that he didn’t feel his tanktop disappear.  It wasn’t until he looked down and saw a thick slab of a chest hanging over a bulging muscle gut that he even knew anything happened.  He looked over his bowling ball shoulders at arms that had doubled in size and could feel thighs rubbing together in ways that they never had before.  It was as if all of the mass that Jerry lost had been blown over onto him, causing his sculpted body to lose its definition under a growing wave of flesh.  He couldn’t see over his stomach, but his probing fingers told him that his board shorts had drawn up into a snug speedo, and the package he felt squeezed inside seemed much thicker than it should.  

They’d both changed in an instant.  There hadn’t been time to even think of running.  The creature’s piercing wail was like a shockwave, leaving entirely new people in its wake.  Dave just blinked at Jerry while his head swam.  The sight of the now-younger man in his supple new body seemed just as natural as it did terrifying, and Dave could tell by the way Jerry’s doe eyes looked at him that the other man was feeling the same.  

*****

Back up the beach, none of the men had been paying attention to Jerry or Dave.  Once their dark skinned friend had walked off, the three started unpacking the Jeep and setting up their spot.  Mason was spreading out the blanket and unfolding the chairs as Luke and Grady got their surfing gear together.  The stocky young man had just sprawled out in the sun while his two friends wrapped towels around their waists and stripped underneath.  They were just about to pull their wetsuits on when the scream washed over them.  

Mason was the closest, so it hit him first.  He felt a blast of air and a tingle as his furry, stocky body rippled.  There was a sensation of the ground shaking, like he’d been in an earthquake.  He bolted upright, startled at the sound and strange sensation he’d felt.  

Looking down the beach towards the source of the noise, everything looked normal.  He saw the wall of muscle that was Dave towering over Jerry like always.  The older man’s powerful body filled out his blue speedo perfectly.  The huge, solid globes stood out proudly in back, and when the two turned and started walking his direction, Dave’s stuffed bulge made the younger Jerry’s tiny pouch look empty by comparison.  

For some reason, the sight of the two of them sent a throb shooting between his legs.  He paused at the feeling, not sure why it confused him.  Part of his brain told him that Dave always drove him wild.  At forty, his friend was still in incredible shape and could do things to Mason that no one else could.  He didn’t know why he suddenly felt like Dave should be smaller and younger.  

He looked down and gasped when he felt another throb, but not where he expected.  The bulge in his shorts looked larger than ever, the thick, bulbous head of his long, soft hose just barely poking out through a leg opening.  It was this softness that confused him.  He was so turned on he could barely stand it, yet his proud member showed no signs of life.  He blinked in confused shock, unable to place where the painful ache was coming from if not the limp beast stuffed into his shorts.  The same part of his brain that felt like Dave should be younger was screaming at the top of its lungs.  It was telling him his package shouldn’t be THAT large, and it should be rock hard, but at the same time something about that sounded totally wrong.  He just sat and blinked at himself, unable to tell which voice was real.  “Uh...guys…” he started, looking up towards Luke and Grady.  

The two men were still standing in mid-dress.  They’d been pulling on their wetsuits beneath their towels when the reality altering cry had hit, and Mason looked over just as they were pulling the garments up to their waists.  Like himself, something about the two of them felt slightly off.  Spending most of their days in the water left them both in great shape, but that looked to have been amplified.  There wasn’t an ounce of fat on either of them.  Luke’s taller, leaner build had puffed with precision sculpted muscle.  His modest pecs had grown into a proud set of chiseled mounds and his abs had gone from “present” to “prominent” as his already-trim waist had pulled inwards even more underneath the towel.  

Grady had undergone a similar transition.  The shorter man wasn’t much taller than Mason, and like his hairy friend, Grady had been covered in stocky muscle.  Now, his burly physique was gone, and in its place was shredded, striated muscle.  His already-broad shoulders and granite, veiny arms made his sucked in waist seem impossibly small.  

Even their faces had changed.  They’d both been boyishly handsome, with shaggy mops of unkempt hair and constant stubble.  Now, that rugged masculinity had been replaced by razor sharp cheekbones, thick, puffy lips, perfectly maintained eyebrows, and stylishly cut hair.  They weren’t handsome; they were pretty.  

“What was that sound?!”  Luke chirped, looking down the beach.  

“I have noooo idea,” Grady’s perfect brows furrowed in annoyance.  “Some people are so rude.  It’s like, hello, people are trying to relax here.”  

“I know, right?” Luke sighed exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes.  “Okay,” he chirped again, already forgetting about the strange noise, “who’s going first?”  

“Let’s do it at the same time!”  Grady clapped excitedly.  

“Okay!” Luke giggled.  “On three!  One….two….three!”  

Both men squealed and dropped their towels in unison.  Instead of their wetsuits, they’d pulled on skimpy, revealing swimwear.  Luke’s gravity-defying bubble was wrapped in a tiny white bikini with what looked like blue scrimshaw anchors on it, while Grady was poured into a small, palm-leaf print speedo that was sucked into the wedge between his shelf-like cheeks.  Both of the men bulged obscenely in the front with barely contained packages that struck Mason as too large.   Looking at his friends, he felt like they should both have tan lines in the shape of board shorts, not uninterrupted, whole body tans that suggested plenty of time spent naked in the sun.  He also didn’t feel their mouths should be watering as they looked at each other, or that they should be acting in the flighty, ditzy way they were.  

“Oh. My. God.” Grady gasped, manhandling Luke to spin him in a circle as he pawed at the stuffed bikini.  “Those are sooooo cute!”  

“Uh, what about yours?!  Look at these!”  Luke squeezed both of Grady’s granite globes and gave the back of the speedo a snap before they turned towards Mason and posed, hips thrust to the side.  “What do you think?”  

There was a brief moment where the three stared at each other in silence, the same words stuck at the tips of each of their tongues.  Luke and Grady were as shocked by Mason’s inflated bulge as they were their own changes, but no one could give voice to their concerns.  “Lookin’ good fellas,” he said casually, squirming at the unfamiliar sensations rocketing through him.

The two giggled and went back to inspecting one another, each having a hand down the other’s swimwear by the time a shell shocked Dave and Jerry made it back.  

“LIke, what were you two even doing down there,” Luke asked in his new valley boy accent, cocking his head like a confused dog.  

Dave paused, catching his reflection in the Jeep window before he could respond.  Alarm bells rang again at the sight of a weathered face that looked much too old.  It was also the first time he’d been able to see his new barrel torso and the way it made his arms hang at an angle from his sides.  “We thought we saw something in the water,” he said, though unsure why.  He had a vague memory of a strange creature and a loud noise, but at the same time his brain told him there hadn’t been anything in the spot they’d just left.  He looked from Luke, to Grady, and over to Mason, his heart racing.  

“You okay daddy?” Grady asked, putting a hand on Dave’s firm, muscled gut.  

The now-bald man shook his head and smiled, his stuffed speedo twitching at the feeling of Grady’s skin against his own.  “Just distracted by you, gorgeous,” he said, tousling Grady’s hair and eliciting a giggle from the man who was now significantly younger instead of being a peer.  

“Come ooonnnnn,” Luke whined impatiently, “I wanna go swimming!”  

“Oh, me too!”  Jerry clapped and bounced excitedly, his jiggling new cheeks shaking with the motion.  

Grady looked over at the hairy ball of muscle with an expectant grin.  “Are you coming?”  

Mason hopped to his feet and shook his head, darting his eyes towards their beefy, older friend.  He felt his unweildy package pull the front of the shorts down further, the bottoms of his full, furry balls officially spilling free.  “No...I’m gonna hang out here with Dave for a bit.”  

“MMMhhhmmm,” the pretty stud laughed and gave him a knowing wink before prancing off towards the water with Luke and Jerry in tow.  

“What the fuck is going on…” Mason muttered under his breath as he watched the trio bound across the sand.  He stared at the newly christened twink looking soft and small between the two sculpted hunks, unable to shake the odd sensation that Jerry should have been older and bigger than all of them.  

“What was that?”  

Mason gasped when Dave came up from behind and wrapped his beefy new arms around him.  Without knowing why he leaned his head back against his friend’s thickened chest and pressed his ass reflexively against Dave’s straining bulge.  “Does...does something feel…”

“Weird this morning?” Dave finished, leaning forward to give Mason a peck on the top of his head.  

“Yeah, I dunno why, but I just feel kinda off.”  Mason’s tone was calm even though part of him was still screaming.  His dick was huge and strangely soft and he was wrapped in the arms of an older man that he knew should be younger and smaller.  He wanted to point to the three very gay men splashing in the waves and beg for someone to explain what was happening.  He knew he should want to wrestle out of Dave’s grip instead of melt in to it.  

“Now that you mention it, everyone seems kinda out of it,” Dave said, loving Mason’s shiver when his rough new hands drifted down and stroked through the wiry hairs on the shorter man’s solid stomach.  

“Do you feel...different?”  Mason asked, holding Dave’s hand in place just above the drooping waist of his tiny shorts.  He didn’t know why he felt like he should be annoyed by the way Dave towered over him.  He loved it.  The bigger man radiated power and control that made his knees weak.  

“Those three seem the same,” Dave said as they watched their friends splash and giggle in the waves.  Jerry and Grady were currently teamed up against Luke, but it was only a matter of time before the tables would turn again.  

Mason felt Dave’s thick cock twitch against his ass while they watched, the sensation sending up another alarm.  He wasn’t worried because a solid cock was pressing against his mostly exposed rear, but because that rear felt wrong.  Pressing back again, he felt more of his cheeks squish against his friend than he thought he should have.  Looking over a shoulder, he was just able to make out what looked like two hairy soccer balls spilling out of his tiny shorts.  

His broad chest started rising and falling quickly when the other man’s fingers danced along the top of his shorts.  He was as thrilled as he was terrified.  The part of him that said this was wrong shouted frantically at him, but the other half was boiling over with anticipation.  He grabbed Dave’s hand and guided it into the shorts, gasping when the other man’s strong fingers wrapped around his soft, thick snake.  The lifeless hose didn’t so much as twitch despite the toe-curling bliss it sent shooting through him.  

It was enough to snap Mason out of his haze, at least momentarily.  He could clearly remember the solid, eight inch rod that should be pulsing out from between his legs, and the lean, cut young man that should have stood behind him in place of the burly giant.  “Dave...oh fuck...Dave!  Something...something did happen to us!”  He cried, squirming in the other man’s grip.  “You’re...you’re old!  And I’m...fuck, dude, I’m not some limp dick!  Get it...together….” 

Dave’s probing fingers stopped at Mason’s frantic outburst.  “What are you talkin’ about?” he asked, shaking his head.  He was having similar flashes of memory, but unlike Mason, he didn’t want to embrace those thoughts.  They were terrifying and impossible and his new brain did whatever it could to keep them at bay.  Denial was better than facing the reality-bending truth.  “You sound like a lunatic,” he laughed, stroking Mason’s furry chest as he pressed his tented speedo against the shorter man’s back.  

Mason was already losing the tenuous grip he had.  “No!  Listen to me...we’re not...you’re not…” he stammered.  Dave’s strong hand on his plump pecs was making it hard to focus.  “I don’t know how but we need to get helpuuuuuuuhhh!”  Mason groaned and saw stars when Dave slipped a hand down the back of his shorts and worked a finger into his tight hole.  His entire body lit up with pleasure like he’d never felt before.  He’d fingered many women over the years and never once imagined that it could have felt like this.  “Oh...oh shit…” he gasped, clutching at the hand on his chest and wriggling his hips.  

Dave’s booming voice rumbled against Mason’s back.  “Doesn’t seem like anything’s wrong to me.”  

Mason didn’t know what to do.  His old self was quickly falling deeper and deeper into the void, the terrified voice drowned out by what he was feeling.  He looked out into the surf, hoping to see his friends but only finding the altered strangers.  Luke and Grady were tossing Jerry’s tiny thong back and forth as the supple, naked man did his best to try and catch it.  Instead of the weathered, burly arms he knew Jerry should have, his thin, soft twigs flailed while his ample bottom shook and bounced.  Mason could see Luke and Grady’s perfect faces grinning from ear to ear while their impossible bodies glistened in the sun.  

If he could just get them to listen, maybe they could figure this out.  If Dave could just pull his hand free he could clear his head.  But Dave didn’t pull his hand free.  The now-beefy, now-older man gave a flick of his fingers that knocked Mason’s legs out from under him.  “There we go,” Dave’s deep voice boomed in Mason’s ear as the shorter man sagged against him.  

Mason couldn’t help it.  His hairy pecs were rising and falling like he’d just run a marathon when Dave turned him around and pressed his lips on top of his.  The increasingly distant memories of soft, feminine mouths seemed foreign and strange compared to his friend’s strong jaw.  “Oh fuuuuuuck,” Mason groaned as Dave’s fingers went to work in earnest, the older man’s other weathered palm kneading a plump, furry globe.  It felt like Dave was trying to palm a basketball.  Mason now understood where the strange throbbing had been coming from as he ground his lifeless package into the other man’s solid rod, his body wracked by ecstatic spasms.  

“You don’t seem that out of it to me,” Dave grinned as Mason’s tongue started working his nipples.  The furry stud in his arms was a writhing ball of grunting muscle, just like always.  “Maybe we should make sure just to be safe…” 

“Whatever you...say…” Mason panted between mouthfuls of his friend’s meaty chest.  He’d already slipped a hand into the straining speedo and fished Dave’s long, iron rod free, ignoring the terrified voice in his head.  At the moment he didn’t care how things should have been.  All he cared about was the pulsing cock filling his palm and the sudden, desperate need to have it somewhere else.  

He didn’t resist when Dave guided them around to the back of the jeep and pushed him to his knees, nor did he hesitate to suck the throbbing organ into his mouth.  His own lifeless member was an afterthought as he bobbed his head back and forth between the older man’s thick thighs, loving every musky second.  There was a natural flow to his movements like he’d done this countless times before, further driving away the increasingly quiet voice that told him this wasn’t the way things should be.  He told himself if this was wrong he wouldn’t be so good at it, and Dave’s quiet, lustful moans only confirmed his theory.  

“So far so good,” the big man sighed, running his hands over his bald scalp and flexing his steely arms in the process.  He pumped his hips slowly, gliding his fat cock in and out of the younger man’s eager mouth.  “Ready for your turn?”  

Mason gave a few last, lingering licks along the underside of Dave’s slick pole before clambering to his feet and leaning against the back of the jeep.  He closed his eyes and let out a slow breath when his friend’s lips landed on his neck and worked their way down his broad back, whimpering pathetically when they reached the top of his shorts.  He shifted his weight from one sturdy leg to the other until Dave tugged the small, pink fabric down and his inflated package flopped free.  

The furry young man stared at the limp beast in shock.  It was nearly as thick as his forearm and hung at least eleven inches in front of a set of massive, hairy balls, swaying wildly as he rocked his hips against Dave’s clutching hands.  “OOHHHHHHHHHHH!”  His cracking voice carried down the beach when he felt his furry globes spread apart and Dave’s moist tongue darted between them.

It was all he could do to stay upright.  His impossibly huge cock slapped limply against his thigh when he spasmed and jerked in the older man’s grip, feeling like a live wire had been shoved inside him.  Each of his ample muscles tensed as he gasped and grunted against the onslaught of ecstasy.  There was one last stab of horror as he thought about what his bottom heavy, ample rear must look like being eaten out in public by another man while his inflated package dangled softly in the open air, but it was quickly pushed away when Dave abruptly stood and plunged inside.  

The stocky, furry stud was already grunting and rocking in rhythm by the time he caught his breath.  “UUnnn...fu...fuck...oh fuck...oooOOOHHHH FUCK…” he moaned, bouncing his hips and working his enlarged cheeks as expertly as he’d used his mouth.  He flexed his protruding pecs against Dave’s rough hands, his long cock thudding loudly against the side of the jeep like an excited dog’s tail.  

“Goddamn you’re...good....at this…” Dave grunted behind him.  “I mean...I’m good at this, but you’re...mmmnnnnn…” he hissed.  “All that meat up front that doesn’t do shit...no wonder you show off these cakes so much.”  

Mason gasped, his head swimming with the new memories of himself as an overly hung power bottom.  Now that he wasn’t fighting it, this new reality washed over him in earnest, filling his thoughts with images of himself bouncing up and down on lap after lap, his hefty cheeks bouncing and working countless men.  He was still just as much of a stud, but “Mace” was now an ironic nickname.  The only clubs he got to experience were the ones shoved inside him.  “Would you rather have the meat up front,” he grinned over his shoulder at the older man, squeezing his hole like a third hand.  

“HHHNnnnooo way,” Dave gasped.  “That’s what those gorgeous boys out there are for.”  

Mason lifted his head and saw Luke and Grady naked on the water’s edge with Jerry kneeling on all fours between them.  The thin, lean man’s small body shook as Luke plowed into him from one end and Grady filled his soft, full lips at the other.  He had a memory of himself and Jerry bouncing up and down on his friend’s laps, the altered men’s valley boy whimpers ringing in their ears.  They may have had bodies like Ken, but Mason knew it was Barbie’s brain lurking behind their pretty faces.  

The scene blurred as he watched, the trio momentarily flashing back to their former selves.  He saw Luke and Grady in their less impressive, athletic bodies while Jerry’s older, thicker frame shook between them.  He felt Dave in his smoother, younger body behind him while his phantom cock throbbed rigidly before him.  For one brief, final moment he didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t.  

Dave’s erupting cock answered for him.  As the pulsing organ pumped out stream after stream of sticky fluid it pushed away all other thoughts, and when Mason’s soft hose started running like a faucet there was no doubt in his mind that this was the way things were supposed to be.  

“Feel better now,” the older man asked, spinning Mason back around and pressing their lips together again.  The hairy young stud didn’t fight it this time. He wrapped his arms around Dave’s burly midsection, eagerly returning the kiss while his dangling monster finished oozing onto the sand and the other man’s ample stream trickled down his muscled thigh.  

“Much,” Mason purred, already forgetting what had him so worked up in the first place.  He stretched his beefy arms in the warm, salty air and grabbed Dave’s hand.  “Come on...let’s go for a swim,” he said, his meaty cheeks shifting and shaking as they bounded towards the waves.