Elbow Park.
It was a weird name for a park, but then again it was a weird place. A public park that backed onto the state’s largest national forest, it was hard to tell where the park ended and Mother Nature began. Glenn always kept on the concrete walkways, but now he was finally ready to make the plunge past the wild treeline. He’d always heard the edge of the woods was a popular cruising spot for discreet gay hookups, but he’d never had the self confidence until now. Maybe.
He stood at the park’s front gate, giving himself a pep talk. “It’s now or never, Glenn. Don’t let all that work go to waste.” Glenn has always been pudgy, but he’d been working out for the past few months in prep for his first true blue gay experience. He wasn’t anything special, but this was certainly the best he’d ever looked.
His fat had receded into a solid mass that sat well on his 5’10” frame, making him look bulky but not jiggly. His blonde hair was pulled into a small topknot, and his pale green eyes stood out nicely on his alabaster white face. Recently, he had been trying out the lumbersexual look, wearing cuffed jeans, boots, and a red checkered flannel. He’d even attempted to grow a beard to age himself up, but the best he could do was a thin blonde mustache. He licked his lips and steeled his nerves. OK… Now.
Glenn stepped into the park, heading down the path toward the treeline. As he walked, he noticed a young man in a leather jacket headed in the same direction. A red handkerchief stuck out of his back pocket. Glenn didn’t know what the color signified, but he knew the handkerchief meant something. He quickened his step, falling into pace with the young man, hypnotized by the sway of his bubble butt. He licked his lips nervously then stuck his hand into the back pocket of the boy’s leather jeans.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The guy turned around, revealing a greased-up pompadour of hair and a scowl. Glenn hastily removed his hand. The boy grabbed him roughly by the collar.
“You ever lay a hand on me again, you faggot, and you’re dead. Capisce?”
Glenn nodded, shaking with fear. The greaser pushed him down onto the grass, ripping the sleeve of Glenn’s flannel in the process. He stalked off to another part of the park, where a group of leather-clad teens were sitting on souped-up motorcycles that belched exhaust.
Glenn wanted to cry. How could he have misread the situation so poorly? Is that what life was going to be like if he ever came out of the closet? That just didn’t seem worth it. He winced and inspected the torn-open sleeve of his shirt. In a sudden burst of rage, he ripped the sleeve off and threw it to the ground beside him. He buried his head in his arms and sighed.
The sound of footsteps reached his ears. Shit. Was the greaser coming back? He looked around, but all he saw was a female jogger making her way down the path. Seeing her living a normal, untroubled life only made him sadder. He stared at her taut stomach and bouncing chest, desperately willing himself to find her attractive. To achieve some semblance of normality.
His eyes followed the metronomic swinging of her breasts. As he watched, he grew calmer and calmer until… a sudden flare of energy coursed through his body and his boner raised to full mast, throbbing like it never had before. It jutted from his jeans, stretching the fabric to its limits. As he continued to watch her run, he thought about stroking her, about kissing her, about… RIP!
The remaining sleeve on his flannel had burst at the seams, slipping down his arm. He stood up and let it fall to the ground, watching the woman’s pert ass as she jogged away. When she vanished into the distance, he took a look at his watch and almost fell flat back on his ass in astonishment. The watch was still there, but it was wrapped around a tree trunk of an arm. Bulging veins twisted up a beefy forearm and a bicep as big around as his head! No wonder his sleeve gave up the ghost.
A quick glance to his left arm confirmed that the same thing had happened when he wasn’t looking. He stopped to pick up the sleeve and investigate, but it was no longer there. And since when was the ground that far away? He stood up straight and noticed that this legs were as meaty as his arms, bulging through the denim of his jeans. He seemed to have grown taller, to a height of about 6’5”, but they still fit, miraculously. What was happening here?
Glenn unbuttoned his flannel, which was now pretty much just a vest at this point, his bulging biceps rippling with the motion. Sure enough, as he unbuttoned he revealed a set of taut pecs over washboard abs. He rubbed his rippling torso, enjoying the feel of the muscles against his thick fingers. He admired his body for a long while, but stopped when he realized his legs were moving. He looked up. Trees. He looked behind him. More trees. Where was the park? He must have wandered into the forest when he wasn’t paying attention. Shit!
He panicked, running through the dense forest in a random direction, his heart jackhammering, his powerful legs propelling him, his still open vest flapping against his skin, which was shiny with sweat. He slowed when he reached a clearing. Sunlight filtered in from above, birds were chirping, an axe leaned against a nearby tree… Calm descended over him. He closed his eyes and relaxed, breathing in, breathing out…
His toes itched. His feet itched. His legs itched. His crotch itched. He looked down, half curious. Pubes began to spill out from the top of his crotch, curling around the lip of his jeans. The itching moved up to his stomach as dense brown hairs sprouted up his abs, obscuring them beneath a fuzzy blanket. The fur rose up to his chest, swirling around his nipples in a thick brown spiral.
Glenn licked his lips, feeling a profusion of hair there he had never felt before. His mustache was now a huge brown tuft. It curled down around his mouth as new brown hairs poked from his bare face, extending six inches from his chin in a thick, luxurious beard. He ran his fingers through it, enjoying the tickling sensation. As he rubbed his face, his arms bumped up against the thick thatch of hair that sprouted from his armpits, so profusely that he could barely lay his arms flat. He put his hands behind his head, exposing his manly tufts to the air and laughed broadly in a deep, booming voice.
His hair tie fell to the ground as his topknot loosened, sending a spray of wavy brown hair over his tan face and blue eyes. His blonde eyebrows thickened, brown color spreading through them like a rippling pond.
Glenn loved his job. He picked up the axe and started chopping away at a nearby tree, sweat beading on his thick, luxurious muscles, as they strained with the effort Being a lumberjack wasn’t so bad.