Daddypocalypse

Daddypocalypse

a gay erotic story by Ventrego, 2016

I'm going to end up destroying the city where I live.

Hot daddy bears keep throwing themselves at me and getting bigger. Dramatically bigger. And I can't stop it - or them!

I met Ed in the locker room at my gym. Handsome guy, thick beard, strong body with nice furry pecs, spiky hair when he ran his fingers through it after the shower. I watched him towel off, but when he made eye contact with me, the effect was immediate.

Six foot four, six foot five, six foot six, six foot seven, six foot eight . . . he was adding inches like he was learning to count, and growing more imposing, more commanding, with every second. He went from nice guy size to football player big in less time than it takes to pick up the soap you dropped in the shower, and his ass was still getting higher off the ground.

And when a guy gets taller, everything on him gets bigger: big feet, big hands, big shoulders, big beard, big junk. Everywhere you look: big, big, big.

And Ed just kept going, until he towered over me, an enormous muscular hairy tattooed pillar of manliness. First he had to duck down to fit under the ceiling. Then he bent forward - which made his pecs loom over me like the best overhead decoration ever. But he kept getting bigger. He had to press those enormous hands against the walls as his long, long legs shoved his lower back up against the ceiling. Eventually he ended up crouched down like a caveman in a cage, a thirty-foot-tall, fifteen-ton chunk of bone, muscle, and fur.

I stared at him.

He stared back at me.

He began to laugh. "Look at the size of me, I'm huge!" He began to grope his new, enormous, freshly-showered body. I'll admit I boned up watching him fondle his huge self. It was like watching an entire bathhouse worth of guys get wound up at the same time. He started to chub up too, and I'm not ashamed to say his was a lot bigger than mine. You haven't lived until you've seen a two-and-a-half foot cock inflate like a big tube of prime ground beef you'd be proud to carry out of the grocery store, but a little worried about fitting into your car.

He even changed the smell of the locker room. His scent smashed down the lingering man-odors of the dozens of guys that came through daily, replacing it with the recently-shampooed scent of his clean moist skin, plus the bitter undertone of testosterone.

He shifted his stance, bracing himself against the floor with one big arm right next to me. It was like the building grew a new support pillar - a pillar you could hug.

"Wanna fuck, little guy?" he asked.

Oh, boy, did I. I dropped my towel so fast it lost its wrinkles when it hit the floor.

He looked at my erection, bobbing in the air in front of my hips, and said, "Nice. I guess you like what you see!"

I reached up with both hands to feel all the man above me, made my way down his chest and across his strong stomach. He was like an ultramasculine billboard model come to life! I stared down the monster dong pointing at me from between his enormous spread thighs.

It kills me to say this: it was too big.

I tried my mouth first, like I was sucking on an industrial injection pipe. He groaned with pleasure, trapped me with one big hand and kept thrusting forward. There was no way for me to open wide enough to even get the head in, let alone start working the sensitive area at the back of his glans.

He reached into a locker that seemed kid-sized and pulled out a clear plastic bottle. "Turn around," he suggested, as he slathered his big cock with an entire bottle's worth of lube.

After he wiped his hand off on his old clothes, he grabbed me and positioned me where he wanted me: fingers wrapped around my torso, parallel to the floor, seven feet off the ground with my legs spread behind me. I felt like I was on a carnival ride at the fair.

But then that huge cock began to press against my backside. I groaned at the pressure; he groaned at the feeling of being nestled between my buns.

But the groans never grew deeper. He shifted, he shoved, I strained. His oversized cock slipped against my buns and over my back. The next thrust wound up with his monster underneath me, and I briefly felt what it would be like to have that much dick myself. We were both willing and ready, but that thing just wasn't going in.

"Sorry, guy," I said, calling up to the face to loomed over and ahead of me. "You're just too big."

He groaned. His cock bucked up against me like a turnstile smacking me around. "Say that again."

"You're too big!"

"Awww, yeah . . ." He shifted his grip. I found myself pressed up against his big cock, his fingers reaching to wrap around it and me together, and soon I was sliding up and down that big pole, arms wrapped around it for support, torso and thighs enjoying the squeezing friction as he pumped himself with me for his pleasure.

"Tell me," he grunted, bent forward, one arm braced against the floor for support. His bulk took up a quarter of the locker room and he was a thrusting, fucking machine. "Tell me how big I am."

I struggled to speak with that big cock head pistoning in front of my face repeatedly, and with my own erection being squeezed and pleased by his actions, but I managed.

"You're huge! Enormous!" His grip tightened and his thrusts sped up. I was gasping too, and could feel my skin flushed from more than the lube-assisted motion "You won't fit into cars! You can't get through the door! You can't get get out of the locker room!" His thrusts became frantic; his rapid breaths echoed in the now-close room. His big balls pulled up behind me; I felt my own tighten in response. "You're too big to fuck!" I yelled. "You're just plain too big!"

"YEAHHHH!" He bellowed, thrust forward, and a giant shot of sperm erupted from his cock head to splatter against the lockers five feet up. I watched with a first-person view like standing at the edge of an erupting geyser. I wish I could say I focused on it, but the sight and smell of all that spunk sent me over the edge, and I added my own smaller shots to his as we thrust and spooged our way through a giant-sized climax.

Finally, he let me down. I lay, spent and sticky, on the floor, staring up at him.

It was several minutes before our cocks stopped drooling and our breathing slowed.

"That was great, little guy," he said, looking at me. "You can visit me any time you want a repeat."

I gave him a thumbs-up sign of approval.

He looked around the locker room, hands pressed against the walls. "You weren't kidding about me being too big to get out of here."

"I know," I said. "What are you going to . . ."

And then he did something I'll never forget.

He braced his hands against the ceiling and lifted the roof of the gym like a man standing up out of a cardboard box. His muscles flexed a bit with the effort, but he easily levered up the top of the building and tossed it aside with much breaking of timber and crashing of plaster.

I stared up at the open sky, and the thirty-foot man towering above me.

He grinned down at me. "Sorry, little guy. I guess you're going to have to do your clean-up shower outdoors."

I blinked. Me laying on the floor made him look impossibly tall. The sight of a thirty-foot tall, muscular, hairy man looming over me will stay with me forever. "That's . . . uh . . . okay."

He looked around, and then down at his nakedness. "I've got nothing to wear. Guess I'll have to give the world a show."

As he turned to go, I called up, "What are you going to do now?"

"What every giant guy wants to do. Go show my friends." He paused and smiled darkly. "And maybe my boss."

I got a prime view of his taint and ass as he hoisted himself over the crumbling wall of the building and began to stomp off down the road.

==========

Ed headed out of the city, but not before having some fun with it. When I saw the traffic snarl in his wake, I left my car in a parking lot and decided to walk the rest of the way home.

In front of a concrete apartment building, I came across a police car with flashing lights and two muscular uniform cops standing on the sidewalk. They weren't quite bodybuilder size, but they were close, with strong builds, bulging pecs, brute-strength arms, and legs and butts whose power was barely contained in tight uniform pants. As I approached, I discreetly checked out their name tags.

Wills just made it to six feet tall, with dark, close-cropped hair and stubble so heavy it was almost a beard again, even though it was only two in the afternoon. He wrote on a pad, pen gripped in hands that looked like they could crack walnuts. His buddy Reed was a little taller, with red hair and a thick red beard that framed his face and made his jaw even stronger.

"Hello, officers," I said, making sure to keep my voice deep, slow, and confident. "Busy day?"

Wills glanced at me, and then went back to his pad. "Same building, yet another call."

Reed looked me over and turned to engage me. "This whole apartment complex has frequent drug and gang problems."

"Hmm," I said. The apartments did have that industrial, run-down look that marks many high-crime locations. "Sounds like you wouldn't miss it if the whole building just went away, huh?"

Reed nodded. "You didn't hear me say that, sir."

I chuckled. "I appreciate the respect, but there's no need to call me 'sir'. If anything, I'd like to call you 'sir'."

Reed made eye contact with me. Yeah, he knew exactly what I was saying. He thumped his partner's elbow. Wills stopped writing and looked at me. This time, his once-over was slower and much more measured.

"Fraternizing with the public while on duty is seriously frowned upon by the department," he said. He looked around the otherwise-quiet street, put away his notepad, and adjusted the crotch of his pants. "Of course, we could always be discussing the current situation."

"Taking your, uh, statement," said Reed.

My eyebrows rose, as did other things.

Wills exchanged a look with Reed and they moved to surround me. Both stood solidly on the sidewalk, feet planted shoulder-width apart, shoulders spread, arms angled out to make room for all the muscle under their shirts. Standing between the two of them was like taking a testosterone bath.

Will's voice was rough. "So, you going to tell us what you know?" He bumped up against me, which knocked me against Reed's powerful frame. Reed reached forward to steady me, and looked carefully into my face, reading my reaction.

I could feel his hot muscles flexing under my hands. I blushed, grinned, and bulged.

Reed smirked at me for the briefest moment before putting his cop face back on. "I think this guy is holding back on us," he said loudly. He moved forward, which shoved me off my feet towards Wills, who stepped forward so I was trapped between two burly cops as they jostled me between them.

Suddenly, the street was clear, and blinds were closed in all the windows. No cars drove by. I had all the privacy I could want.

I was enjoying the friction of durable fabric, the mingled scents of two lightly-applied colognes, and the heat of two cop bodies when I felt a huge shift. One moment I was being manhandled by two guys about my size, but then my feet left the ground, the guys were too tall to fit into their car, and I was dangling between them like a kid being teased by two very full-grown uncles. Their uniforms grew with them, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"The fuck?" said Wills. They both looked around, but they were careful to keep me safe between them, and I could feel two erections growing down by my knees.

"Sorry," I gasped, pressed tight between two strong chests the size of couches. "I should have warned you."

They looked at each other, looked at me, and I got jerked upwards as they grew again. Soon I was like a toddler between them and looked at the world from a sixth-story vantage point. The world around me disappeared between two uniform-clad man-walls as they grew, and grew, and grew. Uniforms, boots, pepper spray - everything they wore was huge and getting bigger. The buildings around us became eye-level and began to drop away as the two cops became truly gigantic. By the time they stopped, they were easily twelve stories tall, casting long blue shadows on the streets blow. They squeezed tight together trying to fit against each other in the street, enormous feet pointed sideways and butts the size of equipment sheds looming over the buildings on either side.

"Jesus," said Wills, looking around. He pulled me from between their enormous pecs and set me on his shoulder like I was an action figure. He and Reed separated carefully, their feet leaving deep indentations on the street below.

Reed looked at me, at him, and said, "Wanna fuck?"

I wasn't sure who he was asking. I was ready to jump to my feet and scream "YES!" when Wills shifted on his feet and spoke.

"Almost. Got to take care of a problem first."

He handed me to Reed, turned to the crime-ridden apartment building, and boomed in a voice that rattled windows miles away, "POLICE! EVERYBODY OUT!"

A few blinds opened up. Several people stuck their head out of windows and blinked at the sight of two gigantic cops looming up out of the buildings like they were wading in city.

Wills grabbed the corners of the building and shook it like he was rocking a car. "THIS BUILDING WILL BE DEMOLISHED IN TWO MINUTES THIRTY SECONDS. GRAB YOUR SHIT AND GET OUT!"

The screams started. Reed helpfully reached for his watch - it was the size of a clock on a tower - and started counting down. "TWO MINUTES TWENTY SECONDS. TWO MINUTES TEN SECONDS."

Suddenly, the dwellers in the crime-ridden apartment got the idea. A steady stream of people poured out onto the street, many carrying luxury goods like TVs and purses far too expensive to be legal purchases. They rushed away from the building and scattered off into the city.

"TEN SECONDS. FIVE SECONDS. TIME." boomed Reed.

Wills didn't bother saying anything else. He just beat against the building with hands that could fist a city block, smashing concrete and glass until the building was a pile of rubble on its lot.

He stepped back and surveyed his work. "Problem solved," he said.

Reed set me on the roof of another building, pulled out a smartphone the size of a car and took a selfie of the two of them in front of the rubble of the building.

Wills looked down at his crotch. "Aw, fuck, I'm getting a justice boner."

Reed began to unbutton his shirt, and then undid the hidden zipper behind the row of buttons. "You aren't the only one. For once, we get to take care of that on-scene."

Wills looked around. Like I said, I never have a problem getting privacy, but there was no missing the giant waist-deep in city. "Right here?" His voice was a low, husky rumble. "Right now?"

"Yeah," grunted Reed. "We're like a hundred feet tall. What are they going to do, discipline us?"

Wills pressed against his partner. "I'd like to discipline you."

"Exactly." Reed grinned and shucked off his shirt, exposing a strong torso the size of a warehouse wrapped in a huge white undershirt.

"Damn it, you always were taller than me."

Reed reached down and freed Will's gigantic cock from its straining fabric prison. "Well, you've got the bigger dick, so don't complain."

Wills braced himself against a nearby store while Reed dropped to his knees and began to service his partner, working with his mouth and beard to make Wills groan and thrust.

I was at ground zero, watching two cops the size of office buildings get off with each other. I yanked my pants open, spit on my hand, and started stroking. You'd better believe I was jacking off harder than I ever had before.

Reed sucked and slurped for all he was worth, bracing his hands on Will's hips while his partner's libido rose. Reed turned red and pulled off. "Jeez, you've got a big cock."

"I know," smirked Reed. "This isn't news."

"No," said Reed, staring. "You've got a BIG cock."

Wills looked down. His eyebrows rose, and he reached down with both hands to grab his erection. Judging by the way his stance shifted as he groped, this was something new to him.

"Damn," he said, looking at Reed. "Did your sucking do that?"

Reed just raised an eyebrow.

Wills pointed at me with an enormous finger. "Did you do that?"

I shrugged. "I really don't know how all this works."

Hmm," said Reed, sounding pleased. "Whatever caused it, I'm not going to argue." When he lowered his mouth onto Wills again, Wills grunted.

"Okay," said Wills," but you're not the only one who likes to play with big dick. On the ground, Reed."

I wasn't sure what he meant, but evidently they'd done this before, because Reed pivoted smoothly to lay against the buildings around him. It looked a little uncomfortable to me; not all the roofs were equal height and Reed was kind of sprawled out like he was on a lumpy mattress. Wills moved on top of Reed, Wills's huge knees smashing down two shops as he lowered his big cock into Reed's mouth.

Wills freed Reed's own big cock and balls and returned the favor, moving into a gigantic sixty-nine position, with both cops sucking each other off at once. Their deep moans and groans echoed through the city.

As I watched these two giant gay cops work each other towards a juicy climax. Wills choked a little; Reed's dick had gotten a little too big for him. Wills looked down and saw the huge shaft he was shoving down Reed's throat swell with his climax, forcing Reed to stretch his mouth wide.

Wills rolled off to the side and began to stroke Reed's oversized cock with both hands.

Reed groaned; his balls pulled up like a dam drainage system shifting into place. The head of his cock flared and he began to thrust. Wills's own cock swelled in Reed's hands, preparing to unload. Wills place his mouth over the tip of Reed's dick, ready to suck down his cum without overstimulating him.

As Reed began to spurt into Wills' mouth, Reed turned his head and down halfway down Wills's big cock, muffling his cries around Wills's cock as it grew into a monster that stretched Reed's lips and made his throat bulge even as Wills's sex-piston shaft grew visibly longer. Wills groaned and pumped jizz down Reeds' throat, pulling off with an audible booming "pop" only when his seed was spent and his partner was turning bright red.

I shot my own load onto the roof nearby, but who was going to notice me?

"Fuck, man," said Wills, looking at their giant bodies, the destruction around them, and the extra-jumbo cock Reed had just gifted him with.

Reed smiled and belched quietly. "Like I keep telling you: you've got the bigger dick."

Wills stared at the thick porn cock attached to his groin and said, "Greedy fucker."

I enjoyed watching them stuff themselves back into their giant uniforms. It was fun seeing them deal with much-enlarged equipment; Reed had a very obvious bulge in his pants no matter how he positioned things; Wills had a clearly-visible thick tube smashed against his right thigh by his inseam.

They gave me a pair of very handsome salutes before they lumbered off out of downtown. The last thing I heard from them was Wills saying, "We're going to have to file a lot of reports."

That's when I realized I didn't have a way into the building I stood on. I ended up taking a fire escape back down to street level, where the asphalt was smashed to uneven rubble and no cars had survived the officer assault. As for the apartment building, well, there was less crime in the area from then on out.

==========

Most guys I'm with get gigantic, but Chet surprised the heck out of me by going a different direction. We were both eating dinner at the same pizza stand, and he invited me back to his place. His mostly-fit, five-ten build, wavy dark hair, short-but-thick black beard, and piercing dark eyes intrigued me, as did the bulge in the crotch of his pants.

As we made our way back to his place, in a conversation full of small talk and touching, I said, "I should warn you. I have this . . . effect . . . on guys I find hot."

He grabbed his bulging crotch. "Yeah, I got that." And then he grabbed my bulging crotch. "Looks like I'm having an effect on you too!"

I laughed, shook my head, and ground into his hand. "Yeah, stud, but I mean . . . you remember that giant that stood up through the roof in the gym across town? Or those two cops who grew big enough to clean up downtown, physically?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"That was me."

He stared at me for a long moment. The door to his apartment open and waiting, but we didn't go inside yet. "Hmm." he said. "You're a lucky guy, aren't you?"

I blinked. "What?"

"Having sex with all these huge men." His cock throbbed in his pants. "All of them taller than you. It'd be like being a teenager, sneaking into a pro football locker room, and sleeping with the biggest guys there!"

I laughed. "Yeah, kind of."

"Well, if my head starts scraping the ceiling, I know who to blame." He looked me up and down. "Are we going in or what?"

We just made it inside his dark apartment, the swinging door closing out the hall, when his lips locked onto mine. His beard bristled thick and furry against my face and we both groaned with need. I ran my hand under his shirt, feeling his furry chest, and he returned the favor.

I felt him shift. At first I thought he'd just adjusted his stance, but I quickly realized I was having to bend down a bit to keep our lips locked. We tongue-wrestled as we dropped out jeans to the floor, breaking only briefly to strip our shirts away.

He had a nice body, light-colored, lightly hairy on his arms and legs, with a furry chest, and that thick hair all over his head and jawline that stiffened my crank. I pulled him to me again as he reached for the light switch and missed.

He pressed me up against the wall, but not as hard as I would have expected. "Just a . . . just a sec, stud," he said, speaking around and through our kiss. "Gotta hit the lights so I can see you properly."

He looked over at the wall switch and reached up a bit to turn the lights on.

His apartment was nice. Hardwood floors, a couple of rugs to soften the seating areas, solid furniture, tasteful but inexpensive art on the walls.

The only art I cared about was in front of me, naked, and fully three inches shorter than he'd been when we stepped into his place. He had to look up at me. "Did you stop slouching or something?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Sure. Why not?"

And we were at it again. I felt him diminish as our arousal rose. Five-six, five-four, five-two . . . I had to stoop over to embrace him; the mouth against mine got smaller and tighter.

When we pulled back for air, I was almost a foot taller than him. I stood up to take a breath, and his eyes bugged out. "Holy shit, man!"

He looked around me, and then at his apartment, erection bobbing in front of him. I enjoyed the view as he took in his changed size.

His face was just as manly, bracketed by dark hair above and below, his eyes held the same piercing intelligence, but his body looked more like a teenager about to hit a growth spurt. His hairiness and rigid erection made it clear he was all man, with the same full-blown desires, just in the fun size. And if his head and dick looked a bit large for his smaller body, who was I to complain? The little dude was hot!

He took a few moments to do some Tai Chi moves, flexing and balancing his body in ancient warrior-training positions, cock thumping up against his tight abdomen. "Wow. This feels . . . different."

He moved around his apartment. His last few steps towards anything were cautious, like he expected stuff to be closer somehow.

I wasn't sure about his reaction until he made his way back to me, erection still bobbing in the air ahead of him. "Well, this is awesome," he said. "Let's get back to getting off."

"You sure?" I asked. "It's a little like sleeping with someone underage for me."

He planted his hands on his hips and squared his shoulders. "I'm all man, and nobody's going to fuck with me, even if I'm a few inches down."

My skepticism must have showed on my face, because he stared me down - or stared me up, depending how you look at it.

"I'm not a little kid who can't defend himself, you know."

I scoffed.

"What, you think I can't dominate you?"

I crossed my arms over my chest and flexed a little.

Chet planted his feet and reached up for my face. Suddenly my nose hurt and my ear pulled painfully. "Ow!" I said, bending down. Moments later I was on the floor, arm twisted behind my back, struggling to breath while a tiny titan used his leverage and knowledge of anatomy to grind my face against the hardwood floor.

"Submit to me," he said, his little-man voice surprisingly authoritative.

I struggled, and might have whined a little when I felt my shoulder begin to move out of its socket. "I submit! I submit!"

He chuckled, released my head and arm, and gave my ass a slap as he stood. "And don't you forget it."

I moved my arm gingerly as I got to my feet, and even though I was almost a foot taller than him, I eyed his little frame with more respect.

He planted his feet shoulder-width on the floor. "So . . . where were we?"

I knelt down so I had to look up at him just a little, and we were back at it. Rubbing, groping, his strong-but-small hands feeling me as much as I felt him. When he grabbed my cock - it looked pretty damn big in his small hands - we both groaned. He was still shrinking, and the increasing size difference between us had both of us ready to blow.

Soon we were on the bed, me face down on a towel and him on top of me. I stroked myself happily, enjoying the feeling of his hairy, four-and-a-half foot body on me, his cock thrust eagerly into my lubed-up crack.

"God, you're huge," he said. Even his voice had gotten small.

"Yeah, huge," I replied. My grip tightened on my cock. "And you're so little!"

"Fuck yeah," he replied. I felt him shrink even more. "Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck . . ."

He pressed against my ass, and I felt him blow a surprisingly large load for such a little guy. I blew my own wad, groaning and grinding into the bed beneath me the same way he'd used me for his pleasure.

Gasping and sweating, I felt him climb off. I turned over carefully and pulled him against my chest, comforting and protecting him although I knew he didn't need it. He nestled in, and we fell asleep in each other's arms.

We got off again in his shower, cleaning each other before I had to go. He was barely four feet tall by the time we finished, an ultracompact, assertive, hairy pocket cub who had a view from halfway up and loved every minute of it.

He pinned me on the floor again before I left, although I admit I went along with it a little to give him his initial grip. Still, that tiny guy could hold his own!

I normally hear about my tricks on the news the next day, but there was nothing reported about Chet. I wondered how being little worked out for him, so a few days later I called to check on him. He sounded happy. "Every pizza is family size. On the weekend I turn tricks with these big, towering man-beasts who lumber around my apartment. And every cock up my ass feels like I'm being fucked by a porn star. And you'd be amazed how many how guys want to try me out now that I'm a little bro."

"So you're good with this?"

"Yeah," he said. "You're getting turned on, aren't you?"

"You've got a sexy voice," I said.

"I can tell," he replied. I could hear his smirk over the phone. "I just got smaller again."

"Gotta go!" I said, and hung up quickly.

==========

But if Chet surprised me by shrinking, Dale was the one who took to getting big the best.

I normally go for fit-and-trim guys, so when I found myself in a biker bar I wasn't looking around too hard. There were lots of muscle heads, rough guys shaved bald with goatees, several chunksters, and a bunch of little skinny guys who followed the big guys around.

But when Dale walked up to me, all waistline and beer gut, I felt something inside me flip. He had a lot going on: long hair, long thick beard, long neck beer. I wanted to see him get off, in a big way.

"Hi," he said, keeping his voice deep to impress me.

"Hi," I said, smiling as I thought about impressive he'd look at ten feet tall.

Boy, did I ever undershoot that one.

The dude just started to swell in front of me; didn't even have a chance to unbuckle his belt. One second he was 350 pounds of friendlygruff biker, the next he was twice as tall as his buddies and weighed a full ton. He winced as his head slammed against the ceiling with a solid thunk. Big blue jeans and a 4XL motorcycle-logo shirt just exploded off him, fat gut and hairy chest bulging out into the room as it rose above the crowd, his rump shoved his buddies aside as his legs swelled into two big pillars that blocked my view.

His rapidly-increasing height tweaked his head and broad shoulders against the roof; he grunted and started to topple forward. I dodged to one side as fat ball of flab that would have conquered the back of a pickup bulged towards me. Eight tons of Dale slammed down onto all fours, shaking the building like an earthquake.

His buddies started to applaud, but then backpedalled quickly as he kept taking up more and more of the bar. Shouts of "Hey!" "Whoa!" and "Watch it" did nothing to slow his increasing bulk as his legs shoved back, his shoulders shoved out, and his round gut ballooned like a tidal wave taking the bar over from the middle out.

It would have been fun watching the tables topple and bikers scatter, but unfortunately I had to run too. I could hear crashing and swearing behind me as I joined the press of leather and testosterone out the door.

Once I was safely outside, I turned back to check how Dale was doing.

He may not have meant to clear the place, but it's not like he had a lot of choice. He was twenty-four feet tall and eight tons, which put the building at capacity. Even on all fours he filled the place, back up near the ceiling, size 52 feet pressing against the walls, beer gut taking over the place, and he kept getting bigger.

His back closed the gap to the ceiling. The bar splintered beneath his bulk. I had jump back as his growing spare tire bulldozed the wreckage of the furniture out the doors and windows.

A few seconds later, the bar heaved around him. Dale rocked in place a little - it couldn't have been comfortable being squeezed in there like a full-grown man inside a child's playhouse. And the dude was still getting bigger.

Windows blew out from the walls, bulging with biker. One end of the bar shifted outwards with a loud crunch around his widening ass, closely followed by the far end buckling to make way for his shoulders. Judging by the way Dale strained, and the shape he was bent into, the roof was squeezing him down onto his ballooning warehouse-filler of a gut.

Dale belched, thrust his hips, and the building exploded around him like the world's fattest disaster movie.

Around us, the bikers swore and stepped backwards. I didn't pay any attention to them. My pecker was stiff at attention, watching the enormous guy in front of me grow way out of controls.

By the time he stood up, he was forty feet tall and weighed as much as a fully-loaded big rig. I watched nearly a hundred tons of bulk settle into place, and I realized - the fucker wasn't just getting gigantic, he was even getting fatter.

It was mind-bending to watch him, stance sliding wider over the pavement as his feet to grew to the size of cars, legs towering four stories up above us, waistline bloated until he filled the street, fat cock and balls the size of maintenance sheds all but buried beneath the forward swell of a gut that shoved its way in front of a chest too large to fit on a billboard. He looked down at us, his bonus padding making his shoulders extra-extra broad, and filling out his face and neck behind his lumberjack-shaming beard. He ran fingers the size of support beams through his long hair to clear the last of the bar from it, and then looked down at me.

I felt a brief moment of panic. It's not like I ever ask permission from these guys - I don't even get the chance.

"I believe," he rumbled in a voice like the dawning of creation, "you and me were about to get friendly."

The bikers gawked and stared, and someone laughed, as gigantic overblown fat Dale reached down to pick me up in his hand. Like any other man of his fat-gone-to-fatter build, he had to drop to one knee and bend sideways to make room for his gut. But unlike other large men, when he stood back up he was 100 feet tall. Eighty-three feet of waistline bounced and bulged and filled the street around him.

"Let's make somewhere more private," he said, and set off through town.

I couldn't see much while he had me caught in his big hand. I just knew I was being thrown back and forth against his strong, well-padded palm and beefy giant sausage fingers. I heard screaming, the screech of brakes, loud honking, cumbling plaster, the brittle gasp of shattered glass, and the screech of steel as everything made way for a hundred feet of biker determined to go wherever the fuck he wanted. His hand smelled a little like stale beer and a lot like cheap restroom soap.

Finally, he opened his palm and I found myself staring into his gigantic face. "I'm a little big for you now," he chuckled," but I can still get myself off and blow a load on your face, yeah?"

Without waiting for my response, he set me on a convenient waist-level rooftop, spat in his hand a couple of times, and started to tug an erect dick three feet taller than me. Watching his big balls bouncing and all that bulk tense and flex got me going to, and soon we were in a race to see who got off first.

I'm a little ashamed to say I blew first, but when you reach up to touch a gut bigger than any three buildings put together, with a hot guy above it gasping and groaning as he works himself up to a sticky finish, it's tough to keep control of yourself. I tensed and splattered the ground at my feet with white seed.

Suddenly he groaned and shifted above me, and he answered with his own load: 13 liters of jizz, most of it directed at me.

I mean, I like getting a facial from a hot guy, but come on. This was like getting dumped on by the collection bucket of a bull breeding farm.

I was drenched from head to toe in white sticky jizz by the time it stopped.

Dale staggered in place, taking out a couple more buildings. He braced himself against two more. They started to buckle beneath him but held just long enough for him to catch his breath.

"Whooo," he said, bulk heaving and eyes rolling. "That was great, little guy."

Then he caught sight of me and started to laugh. "Ha ha! Bwhahahaha! hahahaha!"

I stood with my hands on my hips, dripping with his cum, waiting for him to get it out of his system.

"I'm sorry, little guy," he boomed. "You just look so . . . so . . . hahahahaha!"

Once he recovered, he was nice enough to set me back on ground level.

He shifted his weight; it was like watching a mountain get comfortable. "Well, I'm going to go take a bath." He looked down at me. "I suggest you do the same. Ha!"

As he lumbered off towards a lake, his bulk permanently parted the buildings on either side. I watched his big, big, big ass clench and flex with each street-widening step. By the time he made it back to residential districts, he was shuffling houses aside like ankle-deep autumn leaves on a field.

I found myself standing in the middle of a ruined city, freshly spent and covered from head to toe in giant's jizz.

Best. Day. Ever.

==========

Daddypocalypse 2: Working Men

A gay erotic story by Ventrego, 2017

I should have known I’d be in trouble when a construction crew showed up down the street.

You see, whenever I find a guy hot, he turns into a giant. Well, there was that one guy who shrank into a midget. But everyone else: giant.

And this construction crew was loaded with my type of guys: burly, hairy, and ready to put their tools to work. I can’t even describe them without getting worked up again. I looked out my front window a few times. I tried not to stare – I didn’t want to cause any accidents – but it turned out good things were coming my way anyway.

The first guy surprised me by showing up at my front door. When I answered his knock, my eyes widened.

He was beefy, a little shorter than me, wearing a dirty white tee-shit that clung tight to his strong chest and well-padded stomach. A pair of comfortable khaki work shorts, white socks, and brown work boots kept him restrained and protected down below. His light-brown skin could have been Hispanic heritage or a nice tan. Either way, his short-cropped black hair and black goatee framed his slightly-chubby face. I took a moment to admire his strong arms and expensive-looking watch. (I wondered later why he wore a nice watch to a construction job, but he definitely did.)

The moment I looked into his brown eyes, I knew he wasn’t going to stay clothed long.

“Hey,” he said. His smile showed white, even teeth. He shifted his weight to one side and stepped in close like we’d known each other for a while. “Name’s Jose. I’m part of the team building the place across the way. I just wanted to let you know we’ll be making some noise, okay? Should only take a couple of days.”

“Thanks,” I said with what I hoped was an equally charming smile, instead of the creepy leer I wanted to give him. “I appreciate you coming over.” We shook solidly, but both held the grip longer than two straight guys would have. “Say,” I said casually. “You want to come inside? For a beer or . . . something?”

He glanced over at the crew, and then turned back to me. His grin got wider. “Sure, buddy! I, uh . . . unh?”

Suddenly he shoved his way upwards, head and shoulders rising, cock lifting up into convenient reach as he grew six inches taller than me. His shirt pulled tight around his torso, exposing more of his beefy brown arms and several inches of his chubby, hairy stomach. His shorts pulled tight around his strong thighs. His boots and watch, I noticed, still seemed comfortable for him.

“WHOA,” he said loudly. He looked down at himself and let go of my hand. “My shirt feels kind of . . . UNH.”

Another upwards stretch, and he was almost eight feet tall. His shirt and shorts tore loudly; he ripped them off with big, powerful hands and flung the puny fabric aside. I got an eyeful of a broad, strong-going-to-fat build that blocked the view of my door from the street. The work boots on his big feet were custom-order specialty size.

“UNH. Unh. UNH!” He groaned, as he shot up to twenty feet tall. He stood in front of me, an enormous, beefy workman, his big boots planted deep in the grass on either side of the walk to my front door, fat cock dangling in the air above my face.

He glanced around. “I, uh . . . I can see your roof.”

I nodded. “Sorry, I should have warned you . . . guys tend to get big around me.”

He took in the distance between his face and the ground, measuring it with a practiced craftsman’s gaze. “No kidding! Am I, uh, done getting bigger?”

I shrugged. “Do you feel done?”

He looked down at me and cupped his balls in one big hand. “Not yet, little guy. But I bet I will soon.”

My eyebrows rose, as did other things.

“But uh . . . not in front of the guys, you know?“He glanced back at the construction site, where the crew were still focused on their work. When he saw the look on my face, he put up his hands defensively. “Hey, hey, it’s not like that. They know I’m gay. I just don’t like fooling around in public.”

“Okay, okay,” I muttered. I turned to look at my house. “But there’s no way you’re going in the front door.”

“How about the garage?”

I nodded. “Sounds good.” A minute later I was in my spare garage bay, and the door way rising, pulled by an electronic motor to reveal those huge work boots, thick calves, big hairy thighs, and the bare crotch of a 20-foot-tall workman standing in the sunshine on my driveway.

He folded himself down to fit inside, and ended up crouched in my garage, big butt resting on a couple of crates. He took up most of the space - he could have reached from one side of the bay to the other easily.

I hit the button on the remote; the door obediently rolled down to give us some privacy. He filled the garage with the scent of clean sweat, work dust, and testosterone.

“Well, we’re here. You want to suck my dick?” he asked.

I swallowed hard. At twenty feet tall, his dick was already six inches long and plumping up as he looked at me.

“It looks, uh, BIG . . .” I said. “But I’m willing to try!”

He waved me forward. As I pulled his thick length into my mouth, he rocked back on the crates, spreading his legs around me and bracing his arms against the ceiling.

His cock grew quite a bit bigger, but I was pro enough to handle it, taking it into my throat and keeping the suction steady while his big hand guided my head where he wanted me.

He was going great when my hand accidentally brushed the curve of his ass, half-exposed from the way he sat leaned back on the grate. He groaned loudly, his cock throbbed in my mouth, and I was rewarded with a spurt of salty-sweet precum.

“Hmmmm,” I hummed. I brushed his hairy crack as I went down on him again. Soon I had twenty feet of construction worker gasping and groaning, legs flexing uncontrollably as I worked his cock and played with his hole. The groans grew louder, and I found myself swallowing a giant-sized dose of precum before he even began to shoot.

“I’m coming . . . I’M COMING!” he roared in a voice that shook the walls. His hand jammed me all the way down onto his dick, and his load shot, and shot, and shot down my throat. Finally he released me; I launched off his softening jumbo sausage and inhaled several gasping breaths, jizz burbling in my throat as I finished swallowing his huge load.

While he took a minute to recover, I caught my breath and started to stroke myself off.

“Uh uh,” he said, reaching for my hand. He pivoted forward off the crate and got down on all fours. “You got me off, now it’s my turn to do you.”

He pulled me forward – who could resist that much strength, even if he wanted to? - and the next thing I knew my cock was in his mouth.

Now, I’ve got nothing to be ashamed of in the crotch department, but a giant’s head makes anyone’s cock look small. He still worked it like a pro, big lips squeezing up half my length, giant-sized lungs giving me suction like a penis pump. Soon I was the biggest I’d ever been, and his pleased moans made it clear he was enjoying it as much as I was.

I leaned back against a counter and let him get to work. If you’ve never seen a giant on his knees before you, using his mouth to get you off like an eager kid with lollipop, I highly recommend it.

“I’m close,” I warned, but he just dove down as far as he could go and sucked that load right out of me. I clutched the counter, I saw stars, and by the time he pulled off I was weak-legged and a little dizzy.

He belched quietly. That bright smile reappeared. “That was great!”

“Whoa, yeah,” I said happily. I reached out to touch his shoulder. “I suppose you have to get back to work now.”

“Yeah,” he said regretfully. He shuffled in place to turn around without standing up, which would have punched a Jose-sized-hole in the roof of my garage. I punched the button to open the garage door; he unfolded out into the sunlight and rose back up to his full twenty feet of height. He stretched his back and groaned before sticking his head back in the opening.

“See you later?” he said.

I waved him off. “Sure thing!”

He nodded and lumbered back to the construction site, wearing only his socks, work booths, and watch. “Hey, amigos!” he yelled when he reached the street. “You want those shingles on the roof?”

The last I saw him, he was lifting heavy things quite a bit higher than any of his friends could. I would think having your dangly bits exposed at a construction job would be a hazard, but he just carried on and kept working as though things were normal. Then again, given his lack of tan lines, he was probably used to going naked out in the sun!

========

The next day, there was a knock high on my front door. I opened it to find Jose standing there. His huge work boots were back, but now he was wearing a gigantic white tee-shirt and shorts. I meant to ask him where he bought them, but I never got the chance. He got down on one knee to be down at my level, his deep voice rumbling in my chest as we spoke.

“So, uh, about yesterday . . .” he said. “Does this happen to every guy you sleep with?”

I looked him straight in the eyes. “Most of them. Some get even bigger, A few get smaller. I haven’t really figured out a pattern yet, but nobody ever comes back to complain.”

“Huh.” He glanced around. “See, I’ve got this buddy Jake, was REAL jealous when he saw me all giant-sized. I was wondering if I should send him over.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “And what’s Jake like?”

“Big pecs, big arms. Muscles on his muscles. Short beard. Ball cap. Big, tight ass. But he’s, uh . . . he’s likes to use his hands.”

“Yeah,” I said. “Obviously. He’s a construction worker.”

“No, I mean he likes to use his hand.” Jose made a fist and shoved it up to shoulder level.

My eyes widened. “Whoa.”

“So he was thinking, if you were up for it . . .” Jose gestured with his fist again.

“Hmmm” It had been a while since I’d had any ass play, and my cock was already twitching in my pants. I handed over the garage remote opener. “All right. Give me an hour to get ready, then send him over. Will you come along to watch?”

Jose frowned slightly. “I’d like to, but I’m hoisting trusses half the afternoon. Sorry, little guy.”

I shrugged. “Hey, I’ll be having fun. Just remember me when you jack off next, yeah?”

He smiled. “Yeah!”

An hour later, I was naked, clean, and had the garage heater turned on. A big can of Crisco waited on the workbench beside me. I figured, why be subtle?

The door started to rise, and I got a view of bodybuilder legs before a deep voice rumbled, “Hey there, sexy. Face the wall, and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never felt before.”

I obediently turned to face the back wall, presenting my ass as heavy steps strode across the concrete towards me. I hoped he liked the view. There was a click, and the door rattled along its track, closing us in the brightly-lit garage. Judging by the sound, he set the remote on the workbench off to one side.

I risked a look back. Jake had the rugged, sun-weathered good looks of a cowboy or trucker driver, but his body . . . god, did the man do anything but go to the gym? His pecs were huge. His arms were huge. His stomach was tight and strong. His legs made his work pants bulge around his thighs and strain at his calves. His arms were big enough he had to turn a little sideways to reach forward.

There was a squelch from the Crisco can, and suddenly I felt greasy fingers probing at my hole. My cock sprang to life, and I arched back as he expertly plumbed inside my ring, working first one finger, then two, then three inside of me.

I felt his knuckles pushing against me, and suddenly his hand was all the way in. My sphincter clenched around his strong wrist, and I forced myself to relax. He waited there, patiently, giving me a minute to adjust.

Jake’s cannonball bicep bulged as he shoved his thick forearm a little further up my ass.

That would have been fun enough – I was already fully boned up and starting to leak a little – but I felt that flip inside me that said this was someone I really wanted to sleep with.

He grunted, and the hand up my backside started to grow. “Yeah . . . YEAH” he roared as his growing forearm shoved deeper into me and stretched me wide. “YEAH!”

I gasped and might have screamed a little. He pulled back, but was growing fast. Soon it felt like I had a traffic cone up my ass, topped by a wrist the side of a small pumpkin. He knelt on the floor to give his giant-sized self room to move, and worked his arm inside me like I was a ventriloquist’s dummy.

“God, your ass is tight!” he rumbled in a voice like large motorcycle.

I bucked and swore. My internal organs around with every thrust of his massive fist, but with each stroke he slammed my prostate so hard I had a head rush and leaked precum. I grabbed my head, grabbed the wall, grabbed my ass, anything to anchor me in the waves of mind-shattering sensation. For all his vigor, he was a pro – I felt every inch, every pound of pressure, and he made it all work. He was a huge, massive beast, and used all his overblown strength to rocket me over the edge.

It was like dropping off the first lift hill or a roller coaster, or being shot up with your first hit of heroin, again, and again, and again. He growled and groaned, and I did the same, as he pummeled me through the loudest, fastest orgasm of my life. I shot the wall in front of me. I shot my feet. I shot my chin. My pecker sprayed jizz like a crazed addict smacking a lotion dispenser.

Once the jizz-flow stopped, Jake slowly pulled out of me. His hand came free with an audible “pop”, and I could feel my gaping asshole slowly pull itself back towards something like normal size.

I looked back to see a twelve-foot-tall bodybuilder adjust his own bulging crotch with his Crisco-free hand. “Wish I could stay, little guy,” he rumbled, wiping his arm off on one of my towels. “But I’ve got to get back to work.” He smacked the door remote – it looked oddly tiny beneath his hand – and made his way back into the sunlight, leaving me naked, spent, and so thoroughly fist-fucked I thought I’d be ruined for all other men.

Fortunately, I wasn’t completely ruined, although I still think of him often.

======

Of course, there’s always got to be someone that surprises me by growing in a completely different way. Or, you know, two people.

They showed up at my door two days later. I caught a glimpse of a twelve-foot-tall bodybuilder and a twenty-foot-tall meaty guy doing something construction-y down the street before my attention was fully drawn to the two guys in front of me.

“Hey, guy, I’m Mike”, said one.

“Juan,” said the other.

There’s no way around it: they were both fat. Not off-season, not gone a little soft, but actual honest-to-goodness fat. They had the looks to carry it off: handsome, bearded, probably hairy under their sturdy work shirts and blue jeans. They could have been brothers with the strong resemblance between them, but they had different builds.

Mike had a big, soft build with some underlying strength. His weight spread him out and around, with a big soft spare tire, big rump, full thighs and calves. His buddy Juan probably weighed the same, but carried far more of it in his gut: the big, round, firm ball in front of him stretched his shirt in front of him; the weight made him rock his hips back and lean forward slightly over it.

“So,” said Mike. “We’re here to talk about . . .” He paused as if thinking of what to say. He glanced back at the construction site where two new giants were throwing their weight around.

“Easements.” Juan put his hands on his hips and thrust his belly forward. “And visual clearances.”

Mike nodded. “You know, encroaching on your yard, showing off what we’ve got, that sort of thing.”

“Well, guys,” I said. “My garage seems to be the go-to-place for these sorts of meetings. Shall we?”

Two minutes later we were in the spare bay of my garage, lights on, heat on, door closed. Towels and lube were already handy. I offered the guys beers, but I felt a little bad for the waste – they’d never have a chance to finish them! My dick was already chubbing up just looking at the chubby pair. I did my best to let them take a few swigs before it happened.

“Let’s be honest, guys,” I said. “You’re not really here to talk easements.”

“We were thinking more of showing off,” said Mike. He reached down and released his belt with one hand. Juan did the same over on his side. Two pairs of pants fell to the floor at the same time.

And then it hit. I stepped back, expecting them to grow into huge, towering beasts.

Well, they got huge, all right. I’ve seen guys grow up. I’ve seen guys shrink down. But this was the first time I saw guys grow bigger around. It was also the first time I’ve seen them trade builds. I guess there was some jealousy going on there or something.

Mike’s spare tire swelled round and full and shoved its way out in front of him like he was pushing his gut out, trying to make it look bigger.

As the same time, Juan’s rump and thighs expanded beneath his fat, round gut.

Pretty soon they were built almost identically: full faces, big shoulders, big bellies, big rumps, big legs. They had their cocks out and were stroking each other off, smiling and grabbing each other, feeling all their new size. Truth be told, I was really enjoying the show, and started stroking myself off, too.

But, of course, my gift doesn’t make guys a little bit bigger. It makes them gigantic, and these two were no exception.

Their old builds started to come back, only more so. Mike’s spare tire, rump, and thighs, spread wider than his shoulders. His ass swelled behind him until it was wider than the door to my house! He got just bigger enough up top to pull off his pear-shaped look.

But Mike’s weight was at least distributed pretty evenly. Juan kept his new bulk overall, but then his big, round belly kept getting bigger and rounder. He staggered a little trying to balance it, as it grew further forward than he could reach and started to cover his thighs.

I was starting to worry a little for these guys, but I guess they were into it, because they started making out right in front of me, kissing each other and swapping tongue, tearing their tiny little shirts off while they grew absolutely rotund.

Mike couldn’t have been any less than eight hundred pounds, his bulk shifting and shaking the garage as he shifted his stance, his spare tire blown up into this space-filling monster that ballooned out above his wide hips, flopped down in front of him, and just kept taking up more space.

Juan bucked his hips and shoved his huge gut forward into space in front of them, leaning against Mike to stay balanced with enough gut for four or five good-sized truckers. He beamed proudly at it and tugged Mike off while they both kept growing and growing and GROWING.

I’d never seen anything like it, but I was totally into it. Soon they were these huge, hairy beasts taking up most of the room in my garage, fucking each other’s hands and struggling to manage all their bulk. The worse it got, the more worked up they got, until finally they both shot their loads, growling and thrusting and encouraging each other.

Smelling the spunk and feeling the heat from these huge, hairy man-beasts made me shoot too. Let me tell you, they warmed my garage better than that puny heater ever did.

All three of us had got off, and everybody was smiling, but evidently Juan just wasn’t done yet.

Don’t get me wrong – Mike was the size of four power lifters put together, this huge, hairy, beefy beast with an ass that could bust a park bench.

But Juan, freshly-spent as he was, was puffing, and grunting, and his gut just kept growing. He and Mike were both struggling to keep it up and it was almost to the ground in front of him. A surge shoved his stomach against the concrete a foot in front of his toes, and he rocked back as his weight shifted. The overblown round ball of his gut was bigger than he was! Juan thumped his overblown broadsides and thrust against it as if encouraging it to keep going. Mike and I just stared and gaped as it wobbled, ballooned. and lurched its way to the size of fat, bloated SUV.

“Holy shit, Juan!” said Mike. Juan’s stomach took up most of the garage bay, leaving me and the otherwise-huge Mike crammed together in the workshop area in back.

Juan said something in Spanish, and then followed it with, “Fucking nobody bigger than me!” He thrust up against belly, giving a new meaning to “go fuck yourself”, and shot again as he fought to come to grips with his new expanse.

Mike waddled forward and slapped the top of Juan’s round stomach with both hands; it thumped like a prize-winning pumpkin at a state fair. Mike’s voice was smooth and even. “I guess we’ll get out of your hair now.” He took another look at Juan’s expanse. “Somehow.”

Juan leaned back; the enormous gut in front of him shifted. He bent his knees, grabbed his gut with both hands, and pulled: Mike helped boost it up. I scooted a flat furniture moving dolly underneath Juan’s hot, heavy boulder of s stomach. His front end settled back onto it with a solid, garage-shaking wumph.

The last I saw them, Juan was huffing and puffing to push himself along, with Mike guiding his front like an enormously broad fireman at the front of a fire truck.

I turned off the heater, closed the garage door, and went back inside to shower.

==========

I was laying out naked in my back yard, drinking a margarita and listening to the thumps and groans of heavy construction going on down the street, when my sun was blocked out by a beefy cop.

I glanced up at him: a little older, balding, the beefy side of fit, with a handsome face and an obscenely thick mustache.

“Well, hello . . .” I read the name pinned to his uniform. “Terrell.”

“My friends call me Terry,” he said. He leaned down and poked me in the chest with his finger, pinning me down on the chair. “You can call me Officer Terrell.”

My eyebrows rose. Was this guy really trying to intimidate me? I took another read on the situation: feet planted shoulder-width apart, strong arms spread to take up space, tons of eye contact, an obvious bulge down the left leg of his uniform pants, looming over me like he could pin me down or pick me up and throw me over his shoulder. But was this just the standard me-cop-you-civilian routine, or something more?

“We got a call about a disturbance of the peace over here. Something about giants.” The bulge in his crotch poked further down his leg.

I looked back up into his face. Our gazes locked. Oh, my, he was that kind of intimidating.

I smiled, briefly. I could work with that.

“Giants, huh? I might know something about it.” I gave him an obvious once-over glance, for the second time. “You know you have to show me a good time after, right?”

He leaned forward and got in my face. His mustache brushed the tip of my nose as he spoke. “You make me a giant . . .” His breath was hot on my lips. “. . . and I’ll show you a good time like you’ve never had before.”

I swallowed. Inside I felt that “sleep with this guy” switch flip hard.

He stood up and straddled me, legs out to either side of the lawn chair, bulging crotch presented for easy reach. He grinned as I reached for the meat-tube he was offering.

There was a woosh, and suddenly his package wasn’t in reach any more. The yard also looked a lot darker. The trees on either side of me were bigger. I had just a moment to realize I was looking at legs that lifted his crotch up past the roof of my house, when his black-booted feet swelled again, blowing up to the size of cars and clearing a deep, earthy trench in my back yard as his stance spread.

Then the boot were the size of my house; the houses of the neighbors to either side behind me just disappeared under his gigantic, growing feet. Soon his feet were four stories tall, eight stories tall, ten stories tall! His shoulder-width stance put his feet three houses apart; he straddled the block like a law-enforcing Godzilla wading through a lawless criminal village.

He adjusted his stance and took down four more houses.

“WHOA YEAH,” he rumbled, so deep it felt like a distant earthquake. He got down on all fours to look at me; it was like being observed by a skyscraper. A handsome skyscraper. With a thick mustache.

I pointed behind him. “You just took out, like, twenty houses.”

A chuckled at me. “This whole division is, like, misdemeanor central. Domestic violence, jaywalking, you name it. Me and the other LEOs hate coming over here. In fact . . .” He kicked out a leg and leveled two city blocks. “That’s a dozen less calls the station will have today.”

My cock throbbed in my pants.

He turned back to me.

“Jeez, look at you. You’re so tiny! Your house is tiny! This whole town is tiny compared to me!” He laughed, a booming chuckle that almost knocked me off my feet. “I’m ready to blow just looking at you.”

He put me in his palm and stood, lifting me five hundred feet in the air like an express elevator. His strong palm was the size of my house, so I felt safe, but it was still a damn fast ride.

“You look like you’re ready to blow too, little guy. But what am I going to do with you?” he rumbled, his free hand massaging the enormous bulge of his crotch. He glanced down at himself. “I know. I’ll put you where the action is.”

He unbuckled his belt, popped open his pants, and unzipped his fly flawlessly with one hand. I wondered how many times he’d done that before.

He pulled out the waistband of his jock strap. “In you go, little guy,” he said, and dropped me down into his crotch.

The warm fabric prison closed over me and pressed me into his thick forest of pubes. Things shifted and grew tighter as he refastened his pants.

“Okay, little guy,” he boomed. “Make sure you move around so I can feel you. That’d be really hot, okay?”

He shook his belt, and I tumbled down onto a cock the size of a city street. I grabbed it, kicked at it – the fat flesh-tube barely dented – and thrust my own bulging crotch against his.

“OH, GOD, KEEP DOING THAT, YEAH!” he roared. The skin-surface I was stuck on suddenly slid, pulsing with each heartbeat and extending down his leg. Rough jock strap fabric brushed my back as his growing boner pushed me along.

He groaned and shifted enormously. The flesh-tube shifted too, and grew longer again. I shoved free of the elastic jock with a pop and found myself in the enclosed gap between his jock strap and pants leg. Jeez, this guy must have been hung like a horse even at normal size!

I lost it a little. Pressed against that titanic member, buried under miles of uniform material, my own cock leaking pre all over the place, I thrust and jacked and went at him for all I was worth. His giant hand gripped the cock-head somewhere down below my feet, and I pretended his gigantic tool was mine as we rubbed, stroked, and thrust.

He rumbled, groaned, and suddenly I felt hundreds of gallons of baby batter rushing through his meat-tube down towards his knees. I shot my own tiny load against him, surrounded by the scent of uniform soap, man-musk, and jizz.

I was still coming down, pressed against a still-firm cock-tube, when I heard him say, “What the . . .” Suddenly I was being pressed down his pants-leg by the length of his cock, and I felt it grow fatter under my wide-spread arms as it lengthened twice more.

There was stunned silence from outside for a moment. “Did . . .” For a giant, his voice was quiet and uncertain. “Did my dick just grow?”

I shrugged. “Maybe?” I said, not that he could hear me. I was more concerned about being slicked up with my own seed, which had spread against me as things shifted.

The world tumbled around as he pulled his jumbo cock out of his pants, and me with it. “How was it little guy?” he asked, and then licked me – and his palm – to clean me off. “Tastes like you had fun too.”

I began to laugh. “That was the biggest fun I’ve had in years.”

He smiled. “Good. Me too.” Then he lowered his hand and tumbled me back onto my back yard.

“See you later, little guy,” he boomed. “I’ve got a biker bar to smash!”

I waved him goodbye. The earth jolted and shook as he lumbered his thousand-foot self away towards the outskirts of town.

When I looked over, I saw the construction down the street had tumbled, flattened by giant Terry’s strides. Sorry, guys.

Oh well. All that property damage can only mean . . . more construction workers!