I go to a small all-guy private college, Crispus Fields College, in a remote corner of Nevada. It might seem like a pretty out of the way place to go to school, and you'd be right, but it's cheap, and the men are gorgeous. I think it's something in the water, cause I've noticed guys show up as freshman who are pretty ordinary looking, then I meet the same guys at a mixer a couple months later and they're cuter and hunkier. Of course, it might just be all in my head.

For instance, there's this guy Duane in my calc recitation. Now, I remember when Duane showed up at school. He drove up in his beat up old Datsun 280Z, just as I was unloading my stuff from a car I'd rented. Now, he was kind of cute, but he wasn't wearing much and while he was naturally tight I'd wager he'd seen a gym only during the PE classes he couldn't duck out of. But at the end of the semester, we were taking practice exams, and I suddenly looked over at Duane, who was sitting next to me, and I noticed the sleeves of his flannel shirt were completely full where his upper arms were. That poor shirt was straining at the chest too. But what really got me was the lump in his jeans—I could have sworn it wasn't as big when he got out of that Datsun in September. Then he felt my eyes on him and looked up at me and gave me a killer smile. Was he cuter? I looked away, embarrassed, my own cock plumping in my jeans. I checked around the room and noticed that everybody seemed to be having trouble with their clothes—or had recently taken to wearing loose sweatshirts. Then suddenly it occurred to me that I had just replaced three of my favorite shirts because I thought I'd shrunk them in the dryer. My jeans were all tighter and short too (I looked around and everybody had an inch or two of sock or shin showing). Of course, it made more sense to think my jeans were getting shrunk in the laundry than to think my legs were getting longer. And then there were my undershorts—I remembered wondering, since when to briefs shrink in the dryer? I hadn't replaced them yet and had just been hanging loose, which had to my surprise attracted admiring looks in the dorm—I'd never thought of myself as all that well-hung, though I'm half-hard most of the time, so that must be part of it.

I shook my head. I must be imagining it all. After all, guys do work out (...though I hadn't had time).

One thing that's not all in my head is the Body Shop. That's what my friends and I called the experimental physiology program designed to explore altering and enhancing the human body. At first I dismissed it as quackery, some sort of ploy for federal grants. Then I met the first volunteers.

One was a senior in my dorm. Bart was already a remarkable specimen—six two, wavy blond hair falling on broad, muscular shoulders, luscious pecs and arms and a taut waist, an ass like two bowling balls, and long, supply muscled legs. I actually had kind of a thing for him, even though he was very into himself, and I always contrived to bump into him, which he never seemed to mind. I'd been working up the nerve to do more, but then I heard he'd volunteered for the project and didn't see him for a week or so.

I was alone reading in the lounge when he came back. He opened the door and walked in with a huge grin on his face. I just stared. His shirtless body looked about the same—except his broad shoulders were broader, his sumptuous pectorals were much, much bigger, and instead of two beautifully muscled arms he had four. I was in awe. It was the sexiest thing I had ever seen, and my cock was immediately rock hard in my sweats. He was obviously turned on by his new bod too—the top couple inches of two thick, very hard cocks were poking straight up out of his tight jeans.

He spread all his arms wide for me. "What do you think, man?"

I could barely breathe, much less speak. He offered me a hand and helped me out of my chair. "C'mon man," he said with a wicked grin and lust-filled eyes, "help me try it out." Before I knew it he had shucked my shirt, exposing my own well-defined torso, and I was wrapped up in his four arms, his incredible bod against mine, as he brought his lips to mine. His mouth was wonderful, hot and sweet, and his tongue seemed to fill my mouth as if it were a secret cock. I ran my hands across his broad bare back and pressed my cock between his cocks, our trim waists and tight abs unable to touch because of the thick cocks between us and the thickness of our pecs, which felt awesome pressed together, firm flesh to firm flesh. But what really turned me on was all those hands up and down my back and grabbing my tight ass, those muscular arms brushing against mine. I never wanted to be let go. I peeled off those tight jeans as he dropped my sweats, and we pressed our bods full against each other. I was in heaven. I felt his wonderful cocks wriggle and I looked down. They had gotten bigger—they were halfway up his six-pack abs.

"They grow unless you do something with 'em," he breathed in my ear, "until you can't stand it any more and they blast by themselves. At least," he added, nibbling my ear, "that's what they said."

"They get bigger?" I said. I nearly came thinking about it.

"If you don't touch 'em or put 'em anywhere," he said, entranced by the idea. "Until they blow."

He kissed me, his hot tongue stretching to fill my mouth, his incredible arms feeling like they were all over my bod. I turned us around and plunked him into the chair, pulling away from his succulent kiss long enough to say, "This I gotta see."

His bright blue eyes lit up as I held down his four arms against the arms on the chair. Though he had the extra arms I'm really quite strong, or at least I am now, and plus I had the leverage to pin him. I resumed kissing him and he dove into it, but he struggled more and more as he longed to touch his swelling, gorgeous, rock-hard cocks. They grew slowly up his delicious torso, side by side, while we kissed and nuzzled each other's necks. Before long they were bouncing against his thick pecs and he was writhing, desperately wanting to touch them. I couldn't blame him—I wanted to touch them myself. Suddenly his whole body shook and he cried out even as he kissed me—and he reared and hurled quarts of thick cum over his shoulders onto the wall behind him, spurt after spurt from his beautiful three-foot cocks. I was so turned on I came without touching myself, my white-hot cum hitting our chins as we wrapped our mouths around each other's. After a moment I pulled back, my cock still very hard. His long tongue lolled as he slumped in the chair. His cocks were softening, and I could see they were slowly slipping back down his chest.

"That was so fucking hot," I said, and he just nodded. After a moment of heavy breathing he wrapped all four broad hands around his cocks, which stopped their retreat and stiffen back up as he stroked them, way up and way down. Fascinated I watched, stroking my still-hard cock, until before long we came again. I leaned down and kissed him again as we came, then collapsed into all those wonderful arms. "Oh, I'm gonna like this," he said.

The second volunteer I saw was Tomm, the TA in my Calculus class. He was a dark, hunky grad student with perfect definition—he looked like he had been sculpted, and by someone who wasn't stingy with his marble. I had already had wet dreams about him during class, though I wasn't as entranced as Duane, who I'm willing to bet didn't hear more than every other word. But when he showed up at class with four muscular arms—and a big grin—the entire class of nine guys writhed with sudden, massive erections.

Dale, the quiet one who sat next to me, was the first to actually pull out his bone-hard whopper and start stroking it. "I can't take it, man," his eyes never leaving Tomm. Duane on my other side immediately followed suit, stroking a long, hard cock with both hands. The room seemed thick with male hormones, and Tomm was reveling in it. Three wide cocks were stiffening from the legs of denim shorts. I proudly joined the class in hauling out our cocks, stroking them brazenly as we stared at the luscious, incredible god in front of us.

Tomm seemed to feel obliged to give us a show, so he dropped his shorts to reveal a gorgeous ass above long, gorgeous legs. He took a cock in each hand, his hands not quite meeting around the thick shafts; he used the fourth the caress his own gorgeous torso. The boys in the room moaned collectively. It wasn't long before we all came, and it was only after that that we could even think about Calculus. Tomm pulled his shorts up, still showing the tips of his cocks at the leg, and we stowed our semihard cocks—and that was how every class began after that for the rest of the term.

The third was my own roommate.

Jarrod was really tall and lanky, about six-foot-six, with legs up to my navel. He didn't really fit in the bed and had to curl up or overflow it. When we first moved in he was really scrawny and I hadn't really noticed him, though I'd caught him looking at me when I changed clothes or came back from the shower. But like a lot of guys—everyone, it seemed, he'd filled out that first semester, and I started noticing him. He'd been shy at first, but lately he'd started hanging out naked as he studied or whatever, and sleeping in the buff; and I noticed, as he no doubt intended me to, that he had a really long, thick cock, though I hadn't yet seen it hard. I was just starting to wonder whether it was a good idea to fool around with your roommate when he came back from spring break.

I was on the phone to my brother when he came into the room, a duffelbag thrown over beautifully broad new shoulders from which hung six newly thickened arms, the strap spanning two great sacks of muscle on his chest, smooth, rounded pecs that cast a dark shadow over tight bulging abs which I could barely see because two amazing erections quivered in front of them.

"Dude, I'll call you back," I said to my protesting brother and immediately hung up.

Jarrod stood nervously in the doorway, waiting for my reaction. I rose (in more ways than one) and pulled him into the room, shutting the door. He was even taller, something like six-nine, but now he was broad and muscular where he had been narrow and bony; as he stood before me his height was such that those luscious pecs filled my vision. My cock was trying desperately to rip open my battered old jeans. It was swelling like a life raft. I looked ever and took in those thick sinewy arms jostling together, wanting to be one of them. He still just stood before me, waiting for me to make a move, though he must have noticed from my panting and my massive erection that I found his bod was irresistible. I actually heard a rip from the super-worn area near my crotch—my cock was succeeding in breaking free.

I looked down at his throbbing cocks and nearly melted. They had crept ever so slightly up his abs, heading straight for his mountainous pecs. I was breathing hard. I reached up with my hands and gathered the cocks together, stroking them both together just a little. A low moan escaped him. My jeans ripped further as my desperately writhing, super-hard cock struggled valiantly to get out.

He used all of his arms to remove those jeans, slowly and seductively, though I could tell he was still nervous. I kept hold of his cocks and as he stepped out of his pants stroked them all the way up and all the way down. He started to remove mine, but I stopped him with a shake of my head and flexed my steel-hard cock. There was one final, very loud rip, and my big cock was free, pointing stiffly at Jarrod through a gaping hole ripped just to the right of the securely zipped fly. Jarrod laughed and reached out with two of his big, long-fingered hands to stroke it, caress it. The rest of the hands he used to stroke my bod as if it were itself a six-foot cock (which I almost felt like at that moment).

As we stroked each other I leaned up to kiss him, and he bent down, favoring me with the longest, most luscious, heart-pounding kiss I've ever had. When we finally broke free his eyes told me how long he'd longed to do that, then we kissed again, deep and passionate.

Even as we kissed he backed me toward the bed behind me.

If I felt any trepidation about getting one of those beautifully enormous cocks inside me it was swallowed by my need to be inside him, for him to be inside me, for us to unite—I had never needed anything that badly. Before I knew it I was on my back and he was on top of me, holding me, stroking me, and I wanted to never be in any other state than to have Jarrod making love to me. He sat up with a coy grin and looked down at my pants. I thought he was going to shuck them this time, but he prodded the fabric in back, found a vulnerable spot, and used four hands to rip open a huge hole over my much smaller (and tighter) hole.

Just for a moment he bent down and took my cock into his mouth, and if he hadn't pulled off it I would have cum in torrents. His mouth was the best fuck-hole I'd ever had my cock in—hot and tight and perfect, plus his long tongue and light suck motion. It was so intense—but he didn't want me to cum yet.

He positioned one of those two beautiful, beautiful cocks against my anus, which didn't want to open for it. But as I watched that cock receded in size while staying rock-hard until it was a manageable size—then it was starting to slide in. It occurred to me very briefly that we hadn't used lube—maybe those cocks were self-lubricating, I thought. He was bending down kissing me again, stroking my achingly hard cock (man, it felt big in his hands). His other cock was stretching between us, and I broke our kiss to bend forward and take the head into my mouth. He grunted, panting, and started sliding his other cock further and further into my ass, inch by inch, as I took the top six, then the top eight, then the top ten inches of his wondrously suckable cock, using my hands to fist the remaining shaft I couldn't dream of sucking.

The other cock kept sliding into my ass, inch after inch, and it felt so goddamn incredible. I wanted to keep it inside me all the time. I massaged it with my ass muscles and he moaned and kept giving me more and more I thought I wouldn't be able to take it, but even though I was really really tight I took it, and took more and more and more. His cock felt like it was all the way up to my chest cavity now, and it felt like it belonged there, like I was his sheath, his scabbard. His arms were all over me, massaging my muscles, stroking my swollen cock, caressing my cheek, holding my asscheeks apart—they were everywhere and I was ecstatic.

He finally stopped feeding me cock—it felt like the end of his cock was under my sternum somewhere, and it felt so damn good, like I had been injected with pure sexual pleasure. He started pumping, and I thrust with him. He moved his head down and was evidently limber enough to be able to take my cock back into his mouth. My cock bucked wildly in that fantastic place and we began moving rhythmically, faster and faster, our bods moving as one. All I had to do was look at him—all those arms were so sexy, from shoulder caps to beautiful, big, jumping biceps to sexy forearms to big long hands. But what he was doing with my cock inspired me to minister to the one in my mouth and hands, and I gave him the richest, best suck off I could, using all the technique I could think of, and we writhed in rhythm, faster and faster, harder and harder, until at last he started to make little noises that told me he was going to come. The thought of those cocks coming drove me right of the edge, and as he pulled his luscious mouth off my big boner I shot a pile of cum on his face, straight up like a geyser, shooting again and again, spurts flying onto the bed behind me. With spots in my eyes I watched him writhe as he approached the brink and then suddenly he came, his whole body shaking as spurt after spurt came out of both cocks, and I swear the streams of cum crashed into each other inside me.

He collapsed on top of me, his cock still in me, panting from exertion and satiation, and to my lasting delight wrapped all six muscular arms around me and held me and kissed me until we went to sleep. But before we drifted off he whispered in my ear: "You should do this, Doug. You've got the perfect bod for it." My dick started to stiffen at the thought, and I could feel his cocks start to swell too. "Man you are so fucking hot now," he said, his hot breath tingling my ear, "I think if you were any sexier I'd never be able to let you go." With than he tightened his luxurious hug, and I knew I had to do it, because I would have done anything to keep him from letting go of me ever again.

The mad scientist at the Body Shop was a good-looking, surprisingly young man named Dr. Josh. He was thrilled with the program and how his subjects were turning out, but it seemed he had a thing for legs and was a bit disappointed guys seemed to be going for arms and not legs. Still, he happily admitted me and Jarrod (who eagerly came along, dressed in a tank top and loose shorts) to the examination room, where I was told to strip.

Dr. Josh whistled. "Damn, you're hot already, man," he said, checking out my bod with an expert eye. I shrugged, but looking down at myself I realized that I really was hunkier than I thought I was—than I remembered being. Maybe there really was something in the water. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he said.

I nodded, smiling at Jarrod, who winked at me and grinned. "I want what he got," I said. Damn, just looking at him turned me on, and before I realized it I had a big hard boner sticking straight up out of my crotch. Dr. Josh whistled again. "You are going to be so amazing," he said. "Sign here." He handed me a clipboard and a pen. On the clipboard was an indemnity agreement emphasizing the experimental, unsanctioned nature of these proceedings and making sure I couldn't sue him or the school in case of accident, dissatisfaction, etc., etc. As I read it through my boner sank away, and as I got to the end, signed it, and handed it back Dr. Josh said, "Damn. We couldn't have started while you had an erection—you would have had to get rid of it, and I was looking forward to watching." He winked at me and showed me into the next room, which contained nothing but a long, backless couch.

"Now lie down here," he said, "and we'll get started. This will take about three days, but you'll be asleep the whole time. Drink this," he said, producing a cup and handing it to me. I gulped it down and immediately started to feel drowsy. Just as I fell back onto the couch and drifted into sleep I heard Jarrod's voice say, "Dr. Josh, there was something I wanted to discuss with you..." Then I was gone.

While I was out I had a lot of dreams. Many of them were about Jarrod, watching his beautiful bod, seeing him work out at the gym doing curls with six dumbbells, attracting the envy of other guys as he picked me up outside of class and held me in those wonderful arms. Once in my dream we shared Bart, getting him between us, his bod nearly as lust-provoking as Jarrod's; then I was between them and I thought I would black out from the pleasure.

I woke up drowsy. My first sensation was a delightful one—muscle against muscle: a tricep resting against a bicep. It was so erotic I felt flushed all over—it felt even better than I had expected, better than I had dreamed. I looked over and saw Jarrod. He was dressed in jeans and a vest and was staring at me, eyes full of lust, practically drooling. His gorgeous cocks were sticking straight up out of his jeans and had grown all the way up to his thick, spherical pecs.

"Does it look that good?" I muttered. He nodded wordlessly.

His rapturous gaze turned me all the way on, and I felt giddy as I realized more than one cock was snapping to attention. But it felt strange—it seemed like there were cocks in strange places. I tried to sit up, and realized I was lying on top of someone, or someone was lying on top of me. Both.

As I sat up I saw that the wall opposite me was all a great mirror, and when I saw myself I nearly came. I had gotten the Jarrod treatment all right—my already muscular bod was now an incredible package of beautiful muscle, broad shoulders, six luscious arms, and three long, wide, very hard cocks pressed against my abs, my long muscular legs perfected to the ultimate shape. For the first time I was really turned on by myself—I was soo hot! But looking over my shoulder was another me, another bod just like it; except that it was me looking over that shoulder. "He cloned me?" I said (both of me).

Jarrod was stroking himself now, absent-mindedly. He swallowed and said, in a throaty voice that made testosterone surge through my body (or bodies), "Not exactly. Instead of giving you an extra arm, he gave you an extra bod. You still only have one mind—but it controls two bods. And man, is it fucking hot to look at," he added. "Especially the extra legs."

As I tried to stand I realized he was right. I was looking out of both pairs of eyes. It seemed to come naturally—I had no trouble focusing. And his last comment made sense as I realized that the body in back had an extra set of fabulous, muscular legs—Dr. Josh keeping his hand in. I was overcome with pleasure. I kept on looking into the mirror as I stood, watching as I wrapped the thick muscular arms of the bod in back around the bod in front. It felt so awesome. A low moan filled the room as the three of us felt passion kick in.

"Come here," I said with two mouths, two tongues, and Jarrod moved to stand between my bods. All our arms intertwined, and just from that we both came. We stayed intertwined like that, our body heat and bodies mixing together, for a long time, incredibly content, until at last we figured we should go home. We cleaned up and headed back into the exam room. Dr. Josh gave me another form to sign, and it was fun to pick a body and an arm to do it with. My favorite thing was still arm against arm, feeling my pumped bicep press against my pumped tricep was the best thing in the world. Making an arm sandwich with three well-muscled arms made me giddy. At first I wasn't sure about the legs, but my four-legged body walked easily enough, and leg against leg felt almost as good as arm against arm. Dr. Josh gave me some special clothes and told me to come back for a check-up in a week.

We went back to the dorm and had incredible sex literally for days as we explored each others' dream bods. Jarrod and I never left each other's side for long, and though I could now have sex with myself in ways that guys can barely imagine, it was still only masturbation compared to uniting Jarrod's body with mine, feeling our flesh dissolve together, rocking as one—even as we were three—rocking as one intertwined entity made up of passion turned to flesh. And we're still at it today, in fact we've stayed at Crispus Fields—to teach. And if you hear about our annual get-to-know-you mixer at our big old house off campus, remember: it's come as you are.