Matt arrived home to find the package on his doorstep. "Damn. It really did get here that fast..." He snapped a picture of it and sent it to Matt. 'Got it.'
His phone dinged soon after. 'Check to make sure it's the right thing.'
"Like they'd send the wrong thing," Matt grumbled to himself. He went to the kitchen and found a knife to cut the box open with. Then opened the box. His annoyance quickly turned to laughter as he pulled the item out. It was a navy-blue jock strap that looked absolutely massive. Big enough to fit a guy like him. "Donny's boy would definitely be 100% satisfied with this," Matt laughed out. He pulled out his phone. 'Think you might have to order what you wanted again.'
His phone dinged again, but Matt had already walked away. "They really sent a thing like this?" Matt held it up, looking it over. He'd always thought guys who liked these were questionable. But wearing them while playing sports in high school had always been comfortable. More comfortable that he ever wanted to admit. And before he knew it, he was walking around his apartment with his pants around his ankles and underwear that was soon to follow.
"The hell?" Matt twisted his head. Thoughts about trying the jockstrap on started running through his head. He craved to be back in that high school faze and able to wear them. That was the life. Being tall and wide was always such an advantage. Guys would look up to him and naturally move out of his way to allow him to pass. It felt good to be on top. "What the Hell," he gave into the desire to feel at least a modicum of what had been.
He slipped his feet through the open rungs and then lifted up the jockstrap. "Whew!" Matt breathed out. "Don't remember it feeling this good." His chuckle rumbled through his thick belly. One of his hands went to stop it. "Maybe Jackson will like it." Matt didn't notice as his hand dipped underneath his shirt and continued to rub at his thick belly. His big meaty hands parsed through the thick fur coating it. It felt good.
Matt bit at his bottom lip. "Damn," he cursed. Energy seemed to be coursing through his body. And his hand hadn't slowed down in the slightest. If anything, he'd sped up. Each touch to his skin seemed to turn him on that much more. Yet at the same time, his body felt so foreign to him. Almost like this wasn't what he really was. He tried to think about his life a bit more. Memories blurred together. Then felt completely different. How old was he? The year grew smaller every second. What did he do? Work quickly became going to college and partying on Friday nights. What was his name? Mark Cambell, star and stud athlete. Suddenly the new persona was taking over, yet, he didn't notice in the slightest.
With his hard cock, he really couldn't think about anything else. Blood flowed through it and his free hand instantly started caressing it. "Damn," another chuckle escaped him. Pre dripped into the fabric, darkening the blue even more. "Don't know if I feel right about returning it. Maybe I should just pay Mr. DuPointe and keep it myself." Mark twisted his head ever so slightly at what he called the other man. Something about it felt a bit off, but Mark couldn't quite place it. It also didn't help that his mind was focused on something else as he pawed at his crotch. Each stroke felt better than the last. He couldn't stop touching himself.
Energy flowed through him as his youth started to return. The hard lines built into his face smoothed over as his skin pulled tight against his body. His hands continued to rub against his body. With each pass, more muscle replaced the hefty bulk that he'd been gaining over the years. Even with a heavy labor job, with his disastrous diet and lazy home life, fat was sure to follow. His belly pulled tightly back into his waist with the six blocky abs replacing the barrel of a belly. That was the only part of him to actually shrink down as the rest of his body only changed composition. The fat hardened and molded into denser, thicker muscle. He flexed, feeling the raw power in his arms. Power that was built over the course of years in the gym and out on the field.
"Oh, Jackson's gonna love this," Mark smirked as he bit his bottom lip. He'd plopped down onto the couch and started using that to massage his penis. His entire body writhed. Each slow movement turned him on even more. He let out a long loud moan. His hand clenched the edge of the couch. His toes curled. Every limb stretched as much as it could possibly go. "So good!" he bit into the pillow. Then released. Mark's body naturally started thrusting on its own. With each bounce, he filled the jockstrap a little bit more.
"Damn," Mark flipped over onto his back. His hand naturally rested on his abs, slowly running his fingers up and down. "Jackson's going to love this." He reached for his phone and snapped a picture of his chest, running down, his abs and showing off the stained jockstrap. A light coating of sweat added a bit of shine. And after such a brutal cardio, he was looking absolutely pumped. 'He's an early birthday present. Make sure to thank your dad. ;D' sending it to Jackson.