Minho made his way to the door to leave, checking himself out one last time in the mirror. Looking himself up and down, he noticed something a bit off about him. Leaning in closer to the mirror, his eyes caught a glimpse of fine hairs scattered across his arms and legs. Perplexed, he analyzed them for a moment, their presence a subtle contrast to his otherwise smooth and hairless physique.
‘Shit, where’s this hair coming from? Guess I’m getting older,’ he remarked, slightly annoyed at the chore of shaving it off.
He didn’t let it linger too long on his mind, his confidence remained unshaken. With a dismissive shrug, he continued his day, content in knowing that his body, muscles, height and everything was peak male form.
Minho strode towards the waiting taxi, his long powerful legs behind every step. The white V-neck clung to his sculpted chest, drawing attention to his impressive pecs with every curve of the shirt showing his defined chest. The sun's rays caressed his flawless skin, highlighting his striking features. He took out his phone for a picture, angling it just so that it would capture his smug, confident expression along with a peek of his defined upper chest. He knew the fans would love this picture and fawn over his muscles. Minho knew just the way to play his pictures to get everyone to go crazy over him.
The taxi hummed along the bustling streets, its vibrations reverberating through Minho’s body. Unbeknownst to him, a peculiar sensation began to stir within his chest. It started as a subtle tingling, almost imperceptible against the backdrop of his thoughts. As the journey continued, the sensation intensified, gradually spreading across his pecs.
Lost in his own world, Minho remained blissfully unaware of the changes occurring beneath the fabric of his perfectly fitting V-neck. Slowly, the muscles in his chest swelled with each passing moment, growing in size and prominence. His decently sized pecs seemed to take on a life of their own, expanding and straining against the constraints of his shirt. The sensation danced across his nipples, causing them to push outwards and rub on the fabric of the shirt, sensitive to even the slightest touch. Minho felt the shirt tightening around his chest but didn’t give it much more than a thought.
‘Damn, this new workout routine has really gotten me built fast. It’s probably time to go shopping for new clothes,’ he thought to himself. He noticed he felt oddly aroused, his crotch stirring, but downplayed it to morning hormones.
Yet, Minho remained oblivious, his attention fixed on the upcoming radio show and the sights passing by outside the taxi window. The transformation within him continued, the allure of his evolving physique hidden from his conscious perception. As the taxi ride drew on, his chest and nipples continued to grow, unnoticed to the idol who remained immersed in his own world.