Playing Dress-Up, pt. 1 (Patreon)

“Have to fuckin’ play dress up to get fuckin’ laid…fuckin’ ridiculous,” Evan grumbled as he snaked his way deep into the dressing room.  It was in a back corner of the store, perfectly private and entirely isolated, but he couldn’t talk Lisa into fooling around in it no matter how hard he’d tried.  He hated going to the mall, and the only reason he’d even agreed to a shopping trip with a girl he’d been dating for just a few weeks was the hope that he’d be able to score a little in-the-store action, but so far all he’d scored was boredom.

And an armful of clothes that Lisa was expecting him to try on.  Evan didn’t see the point.  When it came to what he wore there was nothing complicated about it.  T-shirts, jeans, chino or gym shorts, boxers, and sneakers, with a few hoodies thrown into the mix.  He didn’t think much about it and he never had, though it helped that, at 23, the young brunette’s trim, athletic frame looked good in anything he wore.  “Fit” wasn’t really a concern when his leanly muscled build could sit just as comfortably accentuated in small, skin-tight t-shirts as it could in a baggy top with loose gym shorts.  His broad shoulders, solid arms and modest pecs worked in the entire small-to-XL spectrum, just as his toned thighs and modest bubble never had to worry about being too large for a pair of straight-legged pants.

Not that Evan wore them.  Despite his envious build, the young man was surprisingly modest about his appearance, and while he loved a young woman in a revealing outfit, it wasn’t a style he tried to emulate.  He wasn’t shy about his body, he knew how good his defined frame looked without anything on, especially when coupled with his dimpled chin, pouty lips, and short, chestnut hair, but he didn’t like the idea of flaunting it.  So while he was all too happy to strip down in Lisa’s bedroom, or fool around in an empty dressing room, the thought of strutting around in public with his body on display just felt wrong to him.  Even at the gym he only used the locker room grudgingly, never the showers, and when he went swimming his trunks were knee-length board shorts with boxers underneath.  To Evan, the only people who pranced around in skimpy outfits were girls or gays, of which he was neither.

He’d just had to remind a guy of that latter point on the way in.  Given his reserved outlook, the lean young hunk didn’t take well to being hit on or openly ogled by other men.  So when they passed one of the more fashionable boutiques and he caught one of the workers, a thin, waifish blonde in skinny jeans and a crop-top, staring at his ass he'd made a show of calling him out.  To his surprise the smaller man had simply laughed, his voice unexpectedly deep as it bounced off the tiled floors and seemed to echo down the main corridor.  The twinkish blonde just sighed and, with a flick of his wrist, put a dainty hand on Lisa’s, saying, “trust me, you’re welcome,” before rolling his eyes and sauntering back into the store.

Evan then had to spend the next twenty minutes trying to explain that he wasn’t really a homophobe, that he just didn’t like guys looking at him like that, and he wondered if Lisa’s choice of clothes was punishment.  She’d picked out a pair of paper-thin, light gray joggers that he was supposed to put on before returning to show her, of which the lean young man could already tell would leave nothing to the imagination.

“She could’a seen all this too,” Evan mumbled to himself while he kicked off his shoes and shucked his generic, navy shorts.  The unremarkable chinos were a perfect complement to his unremarkable, burgundy t-shirt, which both matched his unremarkable, plaid boxers.  The toned young man took a moment to appreciate the way his cock bounced against the front of his threadbare underwear as he kicked his shorts free, and for a moment he debated whether or not he should go back to the entryway and the waiting Lisa wearing nothing but.  It was a weekday afternoon and the store was practically empty, and he wondered if the sight of his wiry frame clad only in boxers would be enough to convince her to come back with him.

He ultimately decided against it, though when he saw how the joggers fit he felt like it was a moot point.  As he’d feared, the thin material clung to his toned thighs and perky rear like a second skin.  His dangling hose, which wasn’t actually as oversized as it appeared against his trim frame, was almost perfectly outlined, as were the bottoms of his boxers.  Lifting his shirt to get a better view, Evan blushed at the way his firm cheeks were separated and spotlighted by the clinging pants, feeling embarrassed at the thought of even walking through the empty dressing room in such a state.

But he was already on thin ice with Lisa after his earlier outburst, and if he didn’t swallow his pride now she definitely wouldn’t be swallowing anything else later, so he gave himself one last look and sighed before awkwardly trotting down the dim, narrow hallway that led back to the floor.  “Well where the fuck did she go,” Evan spat when he reached the doorway to find Lisa gone.  He ventured a few yards out, but even from his six-foot vantage point couldn’t see her red hair sticking above any of the racks.  He did see an older, heavyset man nearby eyeing him with obvious interest, the stranger’s gaze landing squarely on the outlined organ between his thighs, at which point the young brunette turned a deeper shade of red and promptly scampered back into the dressing room.  “Veeeeeery funny…see how she likes it when it’s my turn.  Bet I can find something real interesting for her to put on and then…bail…”

Evan trailed off when he made it back to the changing stall.  Face-to-face with his reflection, it was immediately evident why the man had been staring as his own eyes went wide at the outlined monster he saw in the joggers.  His first thought was that his boxers had simply bunched in an embarrassing manner, but as he lifted his shirt Evan was greeted by a set of defined obliques and a tapered washboard that vanished directly into the revealing pants without first passing through the familiar band of plaid elastic.  Nor could he see the bumps around his thighs that should have marked the end point of his boxers, but instead saw a thin ridge that seemed to trace the outer curve of his firm bubble.

“Fuck!  What…where the fuck did these come from,” he yelped, the color draining from, then returning to, his crimson face as he gawked down at a pair of overly stuffed, tiny briefs.  The low-riding underwear had swapped out the worn plaid pattern for a striped motif of pastel pink and purple, the elastic waist now resting just above the base of his unfamiliar cock in front, while leaving the top third of his ass on display in back.  “This…how is this…what happened to my junk…” he stammered, his voice a hoarse whisper.  With shaking hands he pulled open the waist of the pastel intruder, the changing room seeming to spin around him as he looked at the girthy monster and heaping balls wedged inside.  His cock should have been an impressive six-and-a-half inches with proportional orbs to go along with it, but the equipment he now saw was at least several inches longer, with an increased thickness that matched his heavy new knockers.

Frantic to check for any other changes, Evan tore out of his t-shirt and turned in a quick circle, blaming the rapid spinning for the wave of dizziness that washed over him.  Seeing nothing else immediately out of the ordinary, the wiry brunette hefted the altered organ with one hand while giving the rest of his tight frame a prod with the other just to verify what his eyes were telling him.

“Okay…it’s okay…everything else is the same…” he stammered to himself in the mirror.  “I don’t know what the fuck just happened, but I feel fine, right?  I’m fine.  There’s gotta be an…explanation…” Evan trailed off again when he realized what he was doing.  At some point the thick log in his hand had gone hard, expanding to its full, fat nine inches, and he wasn’t holding it, he was stroking it.  Likewise, he wasn’t prodding his body, he was kneading a modest pec and toying with a nipple, and he didn’t look at all stricken as his reflection flashed a wry, lustful grin back at him.

Evan knew he should stop.  He’d never watched himself jerkoff before at all, and certainly never in public, but he couldn’t will that impulse into action.  All he could do was stare in embarrassed confusion at the pastel underwear stretched around his thighs, watching his perky cheeks dimple as he thrust a thickened cock through his fist over and over again.  He wished he could look away when he started pursing his lips and posing seductively while his trim hips rolled, the sight quickly pushing him over the edge.  With a half-stifled groan, the stunned brunette blasted a copious load all over his horny doppelganger in the mirror, reeling both from his actions and the sudden, overwhelming realization of how cute he was when he came.  His soft lips fell open, his eyes went wide, and his lean muscle popped with definition as he tensed and shuddered.

Evan leaned against the far wall for support while he caught his breath, feeling horrified when he thought about what he’d just done.  The intense release had cleared his head a bit, but he was still foggy and confused over the impossible changes to his body and wardrobe.  He kept thinking that he was forgetting something important, though what it was he couldn’t put his finger on.

He focused on fleeing instead.  He slipped back into his t-shirt, pulled the bright little briefs back into place, and stepped into his shorts, hopping out of the stall and down the hall on one foot as he forced his feet back into his sneakers.  He tried to leave the joggers and cum-drenched mirror behind him mentally as well as physically, but as he strolled out into the store a confusing thrill rippled through him at the thought of what he’d just done.  Looking at the faces of the people he passed, Evan grinned as he wondered what they’d think if they knew, and how many would wish they could witness such an act if they did.  Based on the number of people staring at his stuffed little shorts, he guessed the figure to be high.

“Shit!” he hissed, coming to such an abrupt halt in the main concourse that he nearly fell over.  In his haste to flee he hadn’t even noticed the change to his shorts.  Instead of navy chinos, Evan’s toned thighs were now barely covered by a pair of powder blue, nylon gym shorts.  They were shorter than the boxers he should have been wearing and were split up the sides anyway, rendering any idea of coverage moot.  Seeming made to accentuate rather than conceal, the tissue-thin garment showed off just the slightest hint of his firm cheeks on each side and looked like it had a softball shoved down the front.  “This isn’t…this can’t be real.  Stuff like this doesn’t just happen.  Does it?”

Evan felt like he should be terrified, but he couldn’t stop grinning as the shock wore off.  He stood and stared at his reflection in a store window, knowing full well that people were watching while he checked himself out, and were taking the opportunity to do so themselves at the same time.  He knew he should stop and collect himself, that he should get somewhere private and try to figure out exactly what was going on.  But he didn’t want to.  Looking at his drab t-shirt against the cute little shorts, what he really wanted to do was keep shopping.

“Ugh…talk about boooooring,” he sighed, rolling his eyes and fighting the urge to strip out of the unremarkable t-shirt altogether.  Evan recognized the sentence for how odd it was as soon as he said it, but that did nothing to stop the follow up.  “This thing puts me to sleep just, like, looking at it.”  Feeling like he’d been possessed, the stunned brunette watched his hands move of their own accord, grabbing the bottom of the t-shirt while pulling it out and up before tying it in a knot just below the ridge of his pecs.  With his trim abs now fully on display it was even more noticeable just how low-riding his new shorts were, and how stuffed.  The heaping bulge was more prominent than ever, and Evan couldn’t believe it was possible for his ass to look so perky, but none of that shock showed on his grinning face as he rolled each sleeve up.  “Muuuuuuuch better,” he sighed again, giving a slow turn in front of the store window to inspect his makeshift crop-top.  “Let’s see if we can find you for real though, ‘kay?” he winked to himself.