"What...the...shit?" Alex muttered to himself as he walked off from the ill-fated encounter with the teacher. Alex had always thought himself to be an utter adonis, with his well muscled physique and pretty boy good looks. He always told himself he was going to be either a professional grade football player or a fitness model. And that teacher was gonna be HIS. He had decided so ever since she was the first person he ever really crushed on.
But now he just felt...weird. His hair, usually cut in a buzzcut so as to look more professional and military-like, was now longer, showing its light blond coloration, and his clothes didn't fit him nearly as well as they should've. As he started to try to walk along, thinking about the latest rejection by Ms. Clarkson, he felt another wave of heat pass over him. He pressed himself against the wall of the school, his letterman jacket suddenly feeling so incredibly tight on him. His muscles were pressing against it way too much. He started to wonder if he should cut back at all.
He grit his teeth and let out harsh breaths one after the other, almost hyperventilating, and he saw his chest coming up again and again...but not going back down. He gasped and by the time the heat flash was over, Alex looked himself over. His skinny jeans were starting to shred at the quads and thighs, even his calves feeling too tight in em. His stringer shirt under his letterman was basically painted on at this point, and pulling it exposed a sheen of sweat keeping it close to his body. His abdominals looked...thick. Way, way thicker than usual. Like he'd had blocks of concrete planted inside him.
Trying to touch them, he moved his hand up to his incredibly rippling pectorals, and when his fingers slipped over the dangling nerves in one of his nipples, he felt his ass clench and he let out a short, oversexed moan. He had to try that again later, when he was in a more secure space.
Alex peeled off his letterman jacket and rubbed his face. Thankfully so far his face hadn't had too much stubble grow in, otherwise he would have panicked and ran home to clean up his face. "What...what the fuck happened to me?" He stumbled off to go find the answer, first and foremost stumbling almost drunk looking into the boys bathroom.
When one of the students cleaning his hands moved out of the way and said, "Oh uh...excuse me sir", Alex knew something was awry. He felt like there were butterflies in his stomach, fluttering around. He dragged himself before the mirror and gasped. There it was. The irrefutable proof of what happened to him. He was looking right at a substantially bigger, more muscular version of himself. His face matured and no longer teenaged, hair grown out long, very beauteous and wavy.
Alex gripped the wall to the sides of the mirror, and gasped. He looked at the muscles, at his lovely, wavy hair. He looked like a fitness model. "I-I..." He chuckled outloud, not knowing whether to laugh or scream, "I'm fucking gorgeous...uh...urgh!!" The sheer stimulation from how amazing he looked was all it took.
Grinding his pelvis and groin against the sink, Alex grit his teeth and powered through an immense orgasm, the front of the seat of his jeans visibly darkening a little. He gulped and kept going against the edge of the sink a little more before chortling outloud. He looked amazing...who the hell at this school WOULDN'T wanna fuck him now? He was the single most handsome, hot guy here. The exact implications of aging "who the fuck knows" as he put it to himself were lost on the vacuous Alex.
He could get new clothes when he pleased. Now? He just wanted to get his dick wet. He swaggered outside, and immediately found himself looking at some of his fellow football guys. Except he was now so much bigger than them.
The stocky linebacker Ralph gasped after a moment's shock, recognizing the letterman, "Holy shit, Alex? Alex is that you? What the fuck...where'd...are you on some kinda like, super steroids?"
Alex almost felt offended they'd assume he was on steroids at all, but he guessed that was a better explanation than...whatever the fuck he could come up with. "No steroids, man. And likewise, no idea what the hell did all this, but I think I'm more than ready to carry the team all the way to the big game!"
Steve, the runningback, asked in a panicky tone, "But uh...how the hell are we gonna explain all'a this..." He gestured to the new look Alex had, "...to coach?"
Of course worries also made Alex think about what might happen if he kept on changing. But considering how fucking amazing all the changes so far had been, Alex had no reason to think ill of any more. In fact he outright hoped they kept going!
"Coach can suck my fat cock, Stevey, he'll take one look at this, and know who the ticket to the win is." To accentuate this, Alex flexed an arm, almost damaging his letterman in the process. But evidently, Steve did not like this answer;
"Why are you always so---y'know what, fuck it. Go fuck a man, Alex. You guys can accentuate his ego if you want, I'm out." And with that, Steve ran off.
Alex felt his temper coming on, and he crossed his arms, thinking about what Steve said. And as such he was only thinking in the immediate. He knew Steve was the one openly gay footballer, and Steve and his boyfriend Ryan were having a rough patch. Maybe, Alex thought in the heat of the moment, I should go fuck a man - namely your boyfriend, Steve... He shook his head and thought some more, maybe it'd be wise to just head home and get new clothes...
His mind however was still on the idea he had come up with. Steve was so fucking annoying. Even as Alex went about going home, he was fantasizing about what his new grown body would let him do. He could go ahead and do that, or he could call his girlfriend over for a stirring night of exploring his new body, all the new peaks and ridges. Alex started to feel turned on again as he walked - maybe he needed a pitstop...