After he left Jeff's place, Chris caught a quick bite at home and went to the gym. He prided himself on his smooth, sleekly muscled body. Chris was the quintessential blond jock: thin, smooth, fresh faced, clean cut. He thought the Asian girls especially had a thing for his smooth body. After changing, Chris went into the weight room. Tonight, he felt the need to peel off his shirt for his workout. He was thinking there were certainly a lot of sharp-looking guys at the gym tonight. His eyes fixed on the crotch of a weight lifter near him, but he quickly caught himself and began his routine. As he lifted, he thought about his visit to Jeff that day. "Really a hairy dude," thought Chris. He pictured in his mind the thick stubble on Jeff's face. "Must be a lot of work to shave and keep that trimmed," he thought; he always liked the smooth look of his own face, which was indeed sharply handsome. Chris felt his own face. It had a bristle that surprised him. "It's late in the day," he thought. Between sets, Chris paused and checked out the other lifters. "Nice bodies," he thought. "A lot of studs here tonight."
Towards the end of his workout, Chris saw his friend Mike come up to him. "What's up?" asked Mike. Chris felt the need to high five Mike. He liked Mike and liked to touch him. "Getting fit for the chicks," said Chris, grinning broadly and flexing his pecs. "Looks like you're getting a little treasure down there," joked Mike. Chris was puzzled. Mike pointed to Chris' belly. Chris looked down and saw a frothy belly button, with hair slightly darker than that on his head, spreading quite clearly down to his shorts and less noticeably in other directions. "Got to remember to shave that," thought Chris. "Your nips are getting sort of frizzy too," said Mike. Chris saw that rather coarse hairs, again a rather dark, dirty blond, were encircling his nipples. In the center of his chest was a softer cropping, not very noticeable from a distance. But if you looked at the chest closely, you could see that there were a lot of soft hairs that had lengthened and were thickening in all directions. "You look great," said Mike. But Chris didn't think so. "Got to remember to wipe out that growth with the razor," he thought. "I guess I'll have to shave my chest every month or so." He liked it to gleam and glisten.
After his workout, Chris went to the changing room and took a shower. He noticed in the shower that the hair on parts of his legs seemed to be streaming. "It's just the effect of the water," he thought. Chris was an exhibitionist and liked to see his dick under the water. But there seemed to be a lot of bush tonight. God, his bush seemed to have sprouted an inch further around his crotch. "I can trim there," thought Chris. As Chris stepped out of the shower, he grabbed a towel and started to dry off. He was very proud of the way his dick dangled, and he brushed it vigorously, swaggering a few steps so that his heavy balls swayed and his dong flopped. As he strutted to his locker, his eyes fixed on another guy changing. The guy was lingering a moment in his jockstrap. Most guys didn't wear jocks at the gym, and neither did Chris, but tonight he liked the way the crisp jock looked on a muscled body. Chris forced himself to look away from the jock and flexed a bit as he pulled on his briefs. "I'm ready for some pussy!" he thought. The girls worshiped his body.
As fatigue set in after his workout, Chris checked out a few of his favorite porn videos. He got bored quickly. The endless display of boobs and beaver seemed deadening, though Chris did like the look of muscled studs plowing into pussies. He liked the way cocks gradually stiffened, first lengthening into a snake, then getting rubbery, and finally a bobbing boner. Chris paid a lot of attention to the cocks.
As Chris hit the sack, he thought again about Jeff. He liked Jeff a lot. "God, Jeff was hairy," he thought. Somehow, though, he liked the patterns in Jeff's chest and belly. "He's a handsome dude," thought Chris. "I'm glad I'm smooth, but he's handsome." He thought it would be nice to feel the bristle of Jeff's beard shadow. He nodded off.
As Chris opened his eyes the next morning, he felt the urge to scratch his belly. "Got to shave that today," he thought. He thought about Jeff and he again saw in his mind Jeff's body. He rubbed his legs together as he got ready to get off the bed. They felt unusually fuzzy. He reached down and felt a leg; it was definitely hairy--a rather thick frizz. Chris groggily went to the bathroom. He saw in the mirror that there was a dark blond frizz on his arms. It wasn't really heavy, but was quite noticeable. Chris was uneasy. He looked at his legs in the light. The growth was lavish, all the way up his thighs. They were the sort of hairy legs that definitely stood out in shorts. I mean, it was one of the first things you noticed, that sort of smacked you--assuming that otherwise the guy was dressed. Chris's face was filled with stubble. It grew densely and went all the way down his neck. It was really rough and bristly. Chris stepped back in alarm.
Chris remembered that he was going to shave his chest that day and lifted up his shirt. He had a belly full of hair. Chris had a tightly muscled stomach, but the ridges were almost lost in the dusky blond swirls. Chris tensed; he felt overwhelmed, powerless. He lifted his shirt higher, and the hair continued in a narrower spike towards his pecs. Chris' nipples itched; they itched a lot. Chris first hesitated--he was anxious--but than he suddenly pulled off his shirt completely. It was a staggering sight. In the center of his chest was a thick thatch of dirty blond hair. It spread out, not quite so thick, all across his pecs. And it even streamed up to his neck. No gleam at all in this chest; it was a frizzy mass. And it seemed so vigorous in its expanse: was it going to spread more? It didn't quite reach Chris' pits, but when Chris lifted his arms, he saw a dense patch of long scruffy hair in a long oval probably five inches deep. It was a bit gross. Chris was startled. No razor was going to tame this fleece. "He had suddenly become," he thought, "a hairy son of a bitch."