Joce looked him over, trying to decide what she had forgotten.
First she pointed to his package, and it swelled to the size of a melon, prominently displayed in the front of his jeans.
But it wasn't right. So each muscle expanded, as if he was being pumped with air from a tank.
Neither noticed the creak, then whine of his clothes under so much stress. First the back seam gave way as his ass ballooned. Then it was joined by the seams at his thighs, then his calves as they grew to the size of basketballs.
His biceps began shredding his sleeves, and as his pectorals heaved outwards and upwards, his shirt bursts into tatters.
Soon even his boxer briefs begin to tear as the elastic couldn't keep up with the groin that now resembled a prize watermelon.
Peter had grown out of his clothes...and he wasn't stopping...