Real(ity) Estate, pt. 2 (Patreon)

Dylan shook his head, squeezing Cole’s hand.  “I don’t know.  I just...I saw you standing there and it wasn’t even a question.  It just...happened…” the muscled stud finally stuffed his dangling hose away, but he had yet to break off their grip.

Cole swallowed hard and nodded.  “Same here.  When you came up behind me it was...it just felt so...right?  But that doesn’t make sense!  Look at us now!  Look at what we’re doing,” the flustered blonde cried, holding up their entwined fingers.  “Let go!”

“You let go,” Dylan shot back, tightening his grip.

“Look man, you’re the one who started this, so YOU let gommmphh…!”  Cole was cut off when his friend abruptly pulled him forward and pressed their lips together.  He tensed at first, but before he could stop himself he returned the gesture, letting his tongue explore the interior of Dylan’s mouth.  As with everything else, it was all impossibly familiar.  The taste, the feel of their stubbled chins rubbing together, the heat of Dylan’s broad body; it was all wonderful, but nothing about it seemed remotely new.  “Hey!  What the fuck was that?!”  Cole finally blurted out, pulling his head away.

Dylan blushed, his flustered expression tempered by a smug grin.  “I don’t know.  I just really wanted to kiss you.”

Cole melted at the sight, resisting the urge to dive back in for more.  “Dude...are you gay?”

“No.  I mean I don’t think I...no…” the big man said, not sounding at all convinced.  “Are you?”

“No!” Cole’s heart started racing as soon as he spoke.  The word felt like a lie.

Dylan raised an eyebrow, immediately picking up on his friend’s lack of conviction.  “Really?  ‘Cause you, uh, you’re a pro with this thing,” he laughed as he reached down to squeeze Cole’s firm rear.

The smaller man swelled with pride at the compliment even as he dreaded the implication.  It was another piece of the puzzle that didn’t make sense.  He’d never done anything with his ass before, not even with any of his girlfriends.  No matter what fluke caused the two of them to go at it the way they just had, no matter what spark of inspiration told him how to twist and pop his hips, Cole’s tight, virgin hole should have been screaming in pain around Dylan’s fat log.  Yet he’d taken his friend like a hand slipping into a glove.  “Guess I’m just a natural,” Cole shrugged.  He’d meant it as a joke, but the words sent a fresh chill down his spine.  For an instant he could almost name the source of his terror.  His unremembered dream tapped at the windows of his addled brain, but it withdrew into the fog before he could get a clear glimpse.

“So, uh, what do we do about this,” Dylan asked.  “This is...this is weird, right?”

“I honestly have no clue.  Maybe we’re just horny?  I don’t know about you, but I haven’t gotten laid in forever.”

“Can’t say that anymore.”

Cole couldn’t help but smile at his beaming friend.  “Okay, let’s just figure this out later.  I don’t know how to process any of this at the moment but I’m officially going to be late for work, so it looks like you’re on your own for breakfast after all.”  He reluctantly extricated himself from Dylan’s brawny embrace and headed for the shower, making it inside before he noticed he’d left the bathroom door open.  After what they’d just done Cole officially had nothing left to hide from his friend, but it wasn’t the exposure that bothered him as much as his acceptance of it.  He kept having to remind himself that it was wrong, and with each attempt he felt increasingly unsure which side of the argument was true.

His body seemed to have chosen sides already.  As he threw on his work clothes and said a quick goodbye, Cole’s tight frame buzzed with a contented glow that lingered well into the morning.  While his brain may have been struggling to accept the strange events, his tingling bubble was only concerned with how long it would take before they could do it again.  It was all Cole could think about.  Sitting at his desk in the small office he shared with his coworker, Bryan, the increasingly-aroused blonde couldn’t focus on anything for more than a few seconds before his thoughts drifted back to the memory of Dylan plunging in and out, and the steady ache from his pummeled cheeks.  And when he wasn’t reliving that ecstasy, Cole was trying to remember his dream.  He had a growing suspicion that it was the key to everything that was happening, but he doubted the knowledge would bring much comfort.  He had a constant pit in his stomach like he was forgetting something important; he just didn’t know what it could possibly be.

As the morning wore on, the aching at his rear grew worse.  Cole kept shifting his weight, unable to find a comfortable position for more than a few seconds at a time.  It wasn’t long before Bryan noticed, and Cole blushed when he looked up and saw the other man grinning at him from his desk.  They were the same age and had started with the company at roughly the same time, and though they weren’t exactly friends, they had enough in common to consider each other peers.  Bryan had a thick head of chocolate hair and a stockier build, and both young men were fit and handsome enough to have frequent visitors to their shared space.  The pair would work out in the company gym and regularly hit happy hour after work, developing an ongoing competition to see who could land the most hookups.  Though up until that point it had been a draw, Cole wondered why he suddenly couldn’t seem to recall any of his previous victories.  “Sorry,” he said, a bashful look on his face as his friend smiled at him.  “Can’t seem to get comfortable this morning.”

“I wonder why,” Bryan laughed, rolling his eyes.

“What?  What do you mean?”  Cole’s heart started racing again.  He knew what the answer was; he just didn’t know how Bryan came by that knowledge.

“Dude, I saw the teaser thumbnail Dylan posted for his latest video this morning.  I don’t know how even an ass like yours can take a guy that size,” Bryan said with an impressed whistle.

Cole froze.  The dream that had been tapping at the window of his mind suddenly hit it like a fist, a spiderweb of fractures stretching from edge to edge.  He looked down at his phone, somehow knowing he’d see the unfamiliar shortcut waiting for him.  He clicked the OnlyFriends logo, stifling a gasp at the thumbnails of a scantily clad Dylan that popped up.  There was something off about his friend but he couldn’t tell exactly what it was until he clicked on the latest video, and even when he did it was a struggle to accept the striking Adonis had ever looked any different.  The Dylan smiling at the camera still had the copper-haired hunk’s handsome features, but they’d somehow been enhanced.  His wide, dimpled jaw was now offset by razor cheekbones, his soft lips looking more plump and full than ever.  Beneath the smug grin, though, was a body the likes of which Cole had never seen.  Dylan’s broad shoulders and powerful arms had thickened with extra muscle, their increased size only slightly mitigating the impossible pecs framed between them.  The plump muscle tits loomed off his friend’s chest in defiance of gravity and human proportions, making the pinched, tapering waist below them look even tighter than it already did.  Dylan had always sported a set of abs, but the narrow, shredded column looked chiseled from stone before exploding outward at his hips.  A toolbelt was slung low, the only thing the stunning man wore aside from a pair of lime green bikini briefs, stuffed well beyond capacity by both his girthy package and muscled globes.  The firm mounds complemented Dylan’s jutting chest while also perfectly matching the wide, muscled quads that thrust his intimidating equipment forward.

Cole didn’t know what he was looking at.  Dylan had always been fit and built, but never to this level.  No one was.  His friend suddenly sported the impossible proportions of a G.I. Joe action figure come to life, but with the face of a Ken doll and a cock that would make a porn star jealous.  He’d just been with his friend that morning, had become intimately familiar with Dylan’s shape and size, and Cole didn’t understand how it could all just suddenly change.  Nor did he understand Dylan’s behavior.  His friend wasn’t shy, but he wasn’t an exhibitionist either.  There was no way the man he knew would post erotic videos of himself online.  And yet, as soon as he clicked play, that’s exactly what awaited him.

“‘Sup guys,” Dylan said with a smug jerk of his head.  “Just doing some more renovations on our new house while my boo’s at work.  Hey baby,” he grinned, blowing a kiss to the camera with his plumped lips.  Cole’s stomach fluttered even as his mind reeled.  Watching the new Dylan flex and pose and grope himself while he stripped the fading wallpaper, the stunned blonde couldn’t find the words to tell himself that it was wrong.  He could put them together and form the phrase, but the meaning didn’t come with them.  “Whooooo...gettin’ warm in here.”  Even when the new Dylan peeled out of his skimpy bikinis and started working a cock that had to be close to eleven inches, all Cole could think about was how good it felt splitting him wide, not that the other man shouldn’t have it in the first place.

He gasped and shot out of his chair, suddenly remembering the other half of Bryan’s sentence.  Part of Cole wanted to scream at the heavy, bouncing weight he felt hanging off his lower back, but the rest of him wasn’t bothered by the impossibly large bubble in the least.  The pillowy globes straining the back of his now-tailored pants loomed off his lean frame, a pair of basketballs rippling like the surface of a pond with the slightest movement.

The fractured window keeping his dream at bay finally shattered, and Cole reeled at the revelation.  He’d started the dream like all the others, stepping out of his bedroom in the massive, crowded house, only this time he could see the faces of the people around him.  They weren’t strangers at all.  Each of the oddly-sized and unique individuals sported either his face or Dylan’s, which explained why the stunned blonde had always felt so natural and at home amongst the crowd.  Cole now remembered freezing in the doorway, his jaw dropping as he watched the phantom interpretations of himself and his friend parading around, finally noticing their closeness.  Some held hands, some were actively engaged in intimate acts, and it was clear in every case that the pairs were together.  Without fully knowing why Cole had spun around, his jaw dropping when he saw a now-familiar version of Dylan still slumbering in the bed he’d just left.  He’d looked down at himself shortly after, discovering the same supple melons he now carted around.  Instead of wandering the halls as he usually did he padded back to bed, straddling Dylan’s impossibly tight waist and grinding on his friend’s lap until he woke up and took him as he had that morning.

Cole shook his head as the whimpers from the Dylan in his dream matched the ones from the Dylan on his phone.  His attention shifted back to the video just as his now-lover climaxed, but as much as he enjoyed the sight of Dylan’s spraying monster, he was more focused on what he saw in the background.  Beneath the final layer of paper that had just been stripped bare, the word “nexus” had been crudely carved into a patch of weathered wall.

It was the final piece Cole needed to understand what was happening, or at least form an idea of what it was.  The permanently empty house, the lack of information about previous owners, the strange dreams; none of it made sense, but it all fit.  His instinct during the terrible nightmare had been correct after all.  Somehow, the house really did fall between the cracks in reality.  For a moment, Cole wondered what would have happened if he’d stayed alone in the house, or had someone else come and stay with him, or if it even would have mattered.

“Oh, shit dude, did you, uh, forget your pacifier?”

Cole blinked and shook his head, his face going crimson when he looked down and saw his tented pants and the growing damp spot.  At the same moment he was hit with such an overpowering ache from his inflated rear that his knees went weak.  “Damn...no wonder I’m so out of this morning,” he said, not knowing where the words came from.

Bryan’s smug grin turned to a sympathetic smile as the other man quickly hopped up and shut their office door.  “Need me to help you out again,” he asked, giving his own meaty bulge a squeeze.

Cole didn’t know why he suddenly remembered the other man’s cock, just as wide and stocky as the rest of him, filling his yearning void, but he shook his head.  “No, I’ve got an extra,” he said, not at all shocked when he began undoing his pants.  He pushed them down, more focused on the relief he felt at having his supple mountains freed than any embarrassment at exposing himself.  He wasn’t surprised to discover that, at some point, his briefs had become a jockstrap, the pouch of which was straining and damp as his unmuffled hole screamed for attention like a wailing child.  While Bryan watched, he reached into his desk drawer, casually pulled out a large silicone plug, lubed it up, and slipped it between the colossal cheeks.  “That’s better,” he sighed as the lustful fury began to ebb.

“Good thing you caught that before you started spraying,” Bryan said, a note of disappointment in his voice as he gazed at the inviting melons.

“Right?  Don’t need another walk of shame,” Cole said with a short laugh.  He blushed as he remembered the day in question, when he hadn’t brought a plug and Bryan had been on vacation.  His unrelenting need had made itself known through a series of random, continuous orgasms throughout the day.  Not that anyone had cared; they knew he couldn’t help it.  The lingering shreds of the old Cole felt a stab of horror at the realization that he’d somehow tumbled into a world where he was an impossibly thick powerbottom, whose uncontrollable urges were known by all and looked at as a mere medical condition.

He wanted to hold onto that fear, the only evidence he had left from his previous life, but it slipped through his fingers by the time he had his pants back in place.  The damp spots on his chinos dried as an obvious stain, and his cock was almost always noticeably semi-hard, but Cole went about his day as he always did.  By the time he was getting ready to head home he’d long since gotten used to the slight new waddle to his step, and the ever-present sensation of bouncing and shifting.  The constant lust had settled as a familiar companion, more comforting than alarming, and he could barely remember that his day had been anything other than ordinary.

Cole paused when he pulled into the driveway, seeing for a moment a “For Sale” sign in the front yard of an obviously abandoned house.  He screwed his eyes shut tight and held them that way, breathing a sigh of relief when he opened them on Dylan’s car and an inhabited dwelling that was clearly being brought back to life.  He felt like he needed to tell his lover something important, but he couldn’t remember what it was as he walked inside.

“Hey babe, I’m home,” he called, kicking off his shoes and immediately shucking his pants.  He slipped the plug free and sighed, his cock instantly rocketing to attention.

“I’m up here,” Dylan yelled from an upper room.  “There’s wet paint, so be careful.”

Cole was eager as he darted up the stairs, his massive melons clapping and shaking with each step.  Now free of the confining pants the jiggling mountains were in perpetual motion, each shake sending a dart of pleasure up his spine.  “Holy shit, hon, it looks great in here,” the bottom-heavy blonde gasped as he looked around the freshly painted room.  The water damage had been repaired, the wallpaper was gone, and a clean coat of glistening white sparkled around them.  Cole smiled as he turned his attention back to Dylan and reached out to run a finger through the flecks of paint spattered on the other man’s juicy pecs.  He was still clad only in the same bikinis he’d worn earlier, though he’d ditched the toolbelt.  “You’re a mess,” Cole laughed, giving a quick yelp when Dylan grabbed him and pulled him forward.  The statuesque stud’s tongue entered his mouth at the same time that one of Dylan’s fingers entered his empty hole, completing the circuit.

“What can I say...people love watching me shower,” Dylan shrugged.

“People love watching you do anything,” Cole said, still casually getting fingered.

The bigger man raised an eyebrow, running his free hand through his lover’s short blonde hair as he gazed at him.  “You okay?  You seem a little off.”

Cole nodded.  “Yeah, just a weird day.  Like one long deja vu.  AND I forgot my pacifier this morning,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Uh-oh. Did Bryan have to help you out?”  There was no jealousy in Dylan’s question, only concern.

“No, I had a spare, thankfully.  Bryan’s good, but it only lasts so long and he can’t come back as quick as someone else,” Cole purred, slipping a hand into Dylan’s pouch.  He had a flash of the meaty organ as slightly smaller, though it passed as quickly as it came. With the thick club springing free of the pointless bikini, Cole couldn’t imagine the hung stud ever being less endowed.  He gave the chiseled beauty’s churning balls a squeeze, leaning forward to suck on a nubby nipple.

“Someone’s still worked up I see,” Dylan sighed, grinding his mammoth cock against Cole’s stomach.  “You want to film this one?”

“Nah.”  The smaller man shook his head.  Normally he didn’t mind being in Dylan’s videos, and his fat ass had a following of its own, but in that moment he wanted the other man all to himself.  They’d been together for years, but for whatever reason he felt more excited than usual, like it was their first time all over again.  “This one’s just for us.”