Mr. Dearborn was up to something--Diego could just feel it. It wasn't just the fact that the man was growing by leaps and bounds. It wasn't just the fact that he seemed to be getting "samples" from all over, including numerous ones from Diego himself. It was all those things and more. The way the man carried himself. The way he spoke. Even the way he fucked.
Diego desperately wanted to know what was going on. For the rest of the day, he stewed about it. As he met Mr. Dearborn for their after-school fuck, he pondered it as the big man pounded him. It was clear that the teacher was even bigger than he'd been earlier. His proportions were coming close to Diego's, but enlarged to fit a taller, broader frame. The teacher was finally bigger than him, it seemed. Diego burned with jealousy, even as he was impossibly turned on by the man who pounded his ass with jackhammer-like ferocity.
As he staggered away from their cum-swapping session, Diego had an idea for who might be able to spread light on things: Coach Kanning. It wasn't guaranteed, of course, but Dearborn's visit had to mean something. With the plug holding in the Biology teacher's latest load, Diego hustled over to the gym, looking for answers.
The gym was deserted, typical once the football season was over. But light shone under the door to the coach's office. Without pausing to knock, Diego let himself inside.
Coach Kanning looked up from some paperwork, surprise on his face. "Hello, Diego," he began, then paused, sitting expectantly at his desk, "Can I help you with something?"
Diego paused, surveying the man on the other side of the room. Once, he'd been in awe of Coach Kanning's broad-shouldered physique. The man had been a star of the high school football team ten years earlier and even gotten a football scholarship for college. But injury had put an end to football before he could become a professional player, and he'd become a physical education teacher and football coach instead. Everyone knew the story; Coach Kanning himself told it, generally before warning students about the possibility of injury. As Diego looked at the man now, he realized just how *small* the other man looked. Sure, he was taller than Diego. But his muscles were smaller. And he certainly couldn't hold a candle to Mr. Dearborn's increasingly massive body.
"You can," Diego said after a moment. "I need to know something, Coach."
"Of course," the older man quickly replied, "You know I've always been open to answer questions about training, tactics, or anything else."
"Well, this comes under 'anything else,'" Diego continued, crossing his huge arms over his thick chest, "I need to know why Mr. Dearborn was in here earlier. I need to know what he's up to."
The coach paled. "Anything but that. I'm sorry, Diego, but I can't tell. He wouldn't like it. I know he wouldn't."
Diego turned to the door that stood closed behind him and locked it. He turned back to Coach Kanning. "Did he tell you that you couldn't tell anyone? To keep it secret?" he asked.
"Well, not exactly in those words," the older man began, "But he--."
Diego cut him off. "Then there's no problem. Unless you're making it one. Look, Coach; we can do this the hard way, or the easy way. Which do you want."
Coach Kanning gulped. "Um. What-- what is the difference?"
Diego smirked. "If we do things the easy way, you tell me what I want to know. Then I can even reward you, if you like. You aren't infected yet, are you, Coach?" He reached down and pawed at the bulge in his pants, squeezing it lewdly for the coach to see. "I could fix that..." Diego purred.
"A-and the hard way?" the ex-athlete asked, staring at the student's impressively stuffed crotch.
Diego slowly pulled off the shirt he obtained from the lost and found earlier, revealing his cobblestone abs, his sweeping lats, his bulging pectorals. The garment tore as he struggled to get it off of his monstrous back and shoulders. With a grunt he ripped it from his body, tossing the wreckage aside. He stood for a moment, letting Coach Kanning take in what 315 pounds of rock-hard muscle looked like when packed onto a five-foot-five frame. Diego was an impressive sight, and he knew it. He slowly flexed his bloated chest, letting the muscle fibers and striations dance and ripple under the skin.
"I don't think you want the hard way, Coach," Diego purred. "It would be unpleasant. The easy way, on the other hand..." Diego unbuttoned and unzipped his fly, letting his hefty cock and balls out. His nuts looked thick and bloated, while his cock was positively enormous, even though it was only moderately chubbed.
Coach Kanning's eyes nearly popped out at the sight of Diego's huge piece of meat. He began to babble. "It all seemed so innocent! He came in last week, asking about nutrition, supplements, things like that. I encouraged him, like I would for any student or staff member who comes to me for advice!" The coach stood, staring down at Diego's huge body and huge cock.
"Tell me more," Diego added, his dick visibly pulsing, beginning to grow larger.
"Last Friday, he came in here, and I could tell things were different. He was different. Bigger. More confident. More cocky, even. And demanding. "He knew things, Diego. Thing I thought no one did."
"Such as?" the hulking senior demanded, "I already know that he's gotten bigger and bolder."
Coach Kanning hung his head. "Things about me. Diego, I-- well, I've made some mistakes, in hindsight. After my injury, well... I was desperate to get back in the game. I had physical therapy. I worked out. And, well, I did some other things, Diego."
"Such as?" the shorter-yet-larger man replied, his thick deltoids tensing in frustration, "Stop beating around the bush!"
"'Roids, okay!" the coach spat back, "I did 'roids! Oh, I was so young and stupid. And so desperate to get back into the game. To go pro! Not just a few, Diego. A lot. Too many. I figured, if a few would be good, then a lot should be great, and a fuck-ton should be amazing! I was so desperate, so stupid! It wasn't even the league that caught me, Diego; I wound up in the hospital a second time, and at that point, football was done. No more going pro. Fuck, I couldn't even continue with the school team! They kept the truth quiet, sort of, but enough of them knew. Medical confidentiality is a joke, Diego. A young football star winds up in the hospital due to stuffing his body full of way too many performance enhancers, and suddenly it seems like everybody is looking at you funny. Judging you. And your coaches know. The administrators know. The scouts know. The people who you desperately don't want to find out--those are the ones that know."
Diego cocked his head. His dick was mostly hard, but not all there yet. "That's real interesting, Coach, but it doesn't explain why Mr. Dearborn left here with that funny lunchbox earlier."
Coach Kanning's shoulders slumped. "Because *he* knows. Somehow, Dearborn knows. About that dark little chapter of my past. And after he'd gotten my advice about the kind of supplements you can get at the grocery store, he wanted more: TRT. I'm on testosterone replacement therapy, Diego. But Dearborn wanted some of that for his experiment. He didn't explain much. He just said that he'd gotten so far with what I'd already told him, and now it was time to see if he could go even further."
Diego was finally getting close, he could tell. His dick was fully hard. "What was in the box, Coach?" he asked softly.
"Cum," the older man replied, sounding miserable, "At least, that's what it looked like to me. Off-white, thick, kind of see-through on the edges... sure looked like tubes of cum to me. And my TRT, of course. I think... I think he's doing something to enhance the cum. I may not have the virus, but I have some idea how it works..."
Finally. Finally Diego understood how Dearborn had grown so much. He wasn't just getting cum from multiple, powerful sources, although surely that was part of it. No, Dearborn was enhancing it somehow. First with ordinary supplements, it seemed. Now, a potentially more powerful mix, using Kanning's prescription-grade TRT. Diego took a deep breath, then sighed. He looked over at the miserable-looking man on the other side of the desk. The coach wasn't bad looking; he was only twenty-eight years old, and had a fit, attractive body. "So, Coach," Diego purred, "Is it true that you're gay? And if so, do you want to join the club by sucking me off, or would you rather get fucked on your own desk?"
The coach's head shot up. "I- I've always been a top before. Bigger guy and all that. But seeing you..."
"Say no more." Diego laughed and stepped forward, helping the coach out of his clothes. He kicked off his own jeans and underwear, and then pulled the coach into a powerful embrace, wrapping his huge arms around the smaller man's body. A moment later Coach Kanning was lying back on his own desk, feeling the tip of Diego's mighty tool rubbing against his ass.
"If- if anyone finds out," the older man stammered.
"They won't. Besides, after this, you won't need TRT any more, Coach. Not that I'll stop you if you want to give it to me in thanks." He began to push in, his huge cock spreading the coach's ass, invading it slowly and steadily. "In fact," Diego added, as he began to thrust with increasing speed and power, "You can tell me all about Mr. Dearborn's special supplement experiments, and how I can recreate them..." And the coach did, pouring out all he knew, in between moans of pleasure as Diego expertly pounded his ass, the hulking student remembering his own recent experiences on the receiving end with Mr. Dearborn.