When I woke up from my nap I was still nestled in Steve's fresh white cotton briefs, lying against his largish balls. I was comfortable and relaxed. I felt movement in Steve's body around me, first one side, then the other. I guessed we were walking. I could hear street noises—so we were walking outside, in the city somewhere.

Still possessed of my senses, I could smell his sweet, salty balls, and my life-force—somehow transferred from my human body to my sexy new boyfriend's great cock—seemed to extend like the roots of a tree into those balls, which were resonating ever so slightly as they worked to create hormone and seed. It felt like the humming in the floor that you feel when you're in the same building with a great machine but it's many stories below.

I could even faintly feel the other processes of his body—his heartbeat in particular pulsed through my body, a light surge that gave me a feeling of comfort and satisfaction each time it rippled along my length. But I could sense other more distant processes in the massive body to which I was now integrally attached.

I shifted my position in Steve's shirts and felt my body fill out a little as I thought about my situation. I really, really loved being Steve's cock. Nothing, not even sex with Steve when I was in my human body, could compare with the awesome, fuse-blowing pleasure I'd felt that morning when Steve had wrapped his massive hand around my engorged body and brought me slowly and inevitably to the most incredible orgasm of my life.

I felt myself start to stiffen rapidly. I tried to adjust myself as best I could, pushing along the cotton fabric as I grew, the friction creating an agreeable sensation in itself, until I lay hard and throbbing along the line where his crotch met his left leg, my head snuggling under the waitband of the shorts, as I tried to straighten out. I loved the feeling of throbbing against his hot skin. My god, just being hard as a cock, pressed against his flesh by his cozy underwear, was better than actually getting off in my old bod, great though that had been. I was in heaven.

A part of me wanted me to worry about what had happened to my old body. It hadn't been around when I'd woken up as Steve's cock; and somehow, somehow I knew that it hadn't died or anything—I felt some kind of faint connection to it, it was still around, walking the earth. Was it a zombie, or had some other spirit taken possession of it?

But in my present state I was easily distracted, and as I thought about my old body all I could think about was how sexy I had started to look lately—long hours at the gym had been paying off—and how good I was at giving head. I throbbed harder, more insistently, against Steve's flesh. For I knew that more than anything I wanted to be held tightly and messaged rhythmically. By Steve's hand, or by a hot mouth (I thought of being licked by an expert tongue and suddenly my head was wet as precum leaked out of me)—or by a hot, firm, tight ass—oh God! I wanted to be inside a supertight ass, pressed against all over by hot, firm muscle! I wanted that with every fiber of my being.

At that point I heard a great deep voice. It seemed to come partly through the clothes I was struggling against, and partly through the body I was pressed against. I recognized it as Steve's. "Man," he said, "why am I so horny today?" I felt his hand adjust me so that I was pointing straight up, my head rising past the constraing waistband. I throbbed, pressing hard against the waistband and the button of the jeans with what I still thought of as my chest (actually, my cock-body did flare out wider where the upper torso would be, narrowing to a trim "waist" and long slender "legs" that extended snakelike far into the guts of Steve's bod, my sense of the tube growing gradually dimmer as it went into his body).

"Easy, Boner-man," I heard/felt Steve mutter. "Man, you're not going away. I'd better take care of you soon—you're really obvious!" The massive hand brushed against me, skittishly, as if he were afraid others would see. I throbbed harder. Oddly, though I was now a fraction of my old size, an appendage of a six-and-a-half-foot hunk, I somehow—and this is hard to explain—but in becoming hard I had grown, and now I felt like a giant version myself, huge and powerful, a twelve-foot giant with huge muscles, quivering with strength and energy.

The street noises went away and we were inside somewhere; I couldn't see through the cotton shirt Steve was wearing, but the lighting changed as well. He said a series of quick hellos, to which I heard faint replies, then I heard a door close. We had to be alone now, because he suddenly started to grope me through the jeans as he crossed a room. I quivered with joy.

He sat down, pressing me hard against his abs, and I pulsed excitedly, expecting to be let out for a j/o. But he continued to grope me through the fabric while he picked up a phone and entered a number. His pulse had risen and was pumping through me like adrenaline.

"Ryan? Hey, It's Steve," I heard. "Listen, I know our regular session isn't until this afternoon, but it turns out I'm even hornier than usual today ... uh-huh ... great! ... yeah, as soon as you can, man. I'm at the office. ... Yeah, thanks." He hung up the phone and muttered to me as he stroroked me through the fabric, "Honestly, Boner-man, if he hadn't stopped charging me a long time ago, you'd be bankrupting me by now!"

I pounded impatiently against my confines but the most he would do is unbutton his shirt, so that I could see at last, though presumably he only did it to keep me from wetting his shirt with precum any more. We were in a fairly spacious office—Steve must be a successful businessman or attorney, I thought with the part of my mind that could still function logically. Why was he wearing jeans? For I could see them trailing away below my, hugging his gorgeous legs. Of course, I realized—our date was Saturday; it's Sunday. He came in to do some paperwork and I sidetracked him. Well, fine! What do I care about paperwork?

Precum was oozing out of my head and dripping down my back; it felt cool, like sweat on a hot summer day. While we waited Steve daubed a finger in it and slowly drew that single finger around my super-sensitive head, then around the top of my body. I shivered all over. My pulse, Steve's pulse, pounded in me. He was going to drive me crazy! Each caress with that single wet finger made me quiver. I was totally hard and shoving against the waistband of his slacks, which constrained me across the chest. I wanted to be engulfed in hot flesh so badly, and he was teasing me remorselessly!

Ten minutes of this passed, though to me it felt like an hour, then suddenly I heard a rich voice say, "Starting without me?"

Steve's finger stopped. I realized there was another man in the room—and God, he was gorgeous. Tall, broad-shouldered, long black hair, olive skin, beautiful muscles filling out a gray work tee, Levis hinting at a considerable package. Every part of his body looked as though it had been put together on purpose, in the best and most sensual way. He was grinning at Steve—and at me.

"I see what you mean," Ryan said, still grinning sat me.

Steve stood up and walked around the desk. As he did so Ryan started to loom like a giant over me. But straight ahead I could sense somehow the pounding of another cock, already getting hard in Ryan's musky underwearless jeans. I couldn't sense much beyond raw, animal passion—and an instinctive response to me. He could sense me, too, through those jeans, and he wanted to touch me and he wanted desperately, passionately, with every fiber of his now steel-hard body, to fuck the body I was part of.

"I won't be able to get anything done until he goes to sleep," Steve rumbled high above me. They closed the gap and kissed, and a thrill ran through me, a deeply satisfying sensation, the start of something that would rock us all.

As they groped each other's bods they thrust their hips rhythmically, but whereas I was standing straight up my animal colleague was at an angle. I could sense his pure desperation in wanting to touch me, immediately, and he pounded angrily on Ryan's jeans. At last the hunk reached impatiently into his jeans and hauled up his ponycock so that it stood straight up like me, pulling up his tee to reveal his abs and give it room. I quivered and got even harder, if that was possible. He was big. Dark like the flat abs behind him, he towered inches over me and spread wider than me as well—and every cubic centimeter of that burning slab of sex flesh was saturated with longing for me.

Quickly they closed the gap again and we were pushed together. He was broiling hot, though his skin was velvety soft. I was sweating precum. We were pressed hard together, hips in a hot fucking rhythm, and suddenly we connected. You know how sometimes when you're having hot sex with a sensual man you suddenly reach a point where you're connected, where you feel everything and your bodies melt together? That was what happened, only ten times stronger. Our cock-spirits throbbed together, and that big hard hunk of a cock-body seemed to wrap around me, on fire with passion for me, and suddenly a thick stream of very hot precum erupted from both of us at once. Steve and Ryan, kissing ferociously and groping each other's hot bods, moaned softly.

Abruptly they pulled away as one and quickly shucked their clothes, and I had time to see that Ryan's luscious body had a light coat of dark hair before they pressed together again, this time with Ryan's right hand stroking us together. I thought that was heaven, being stroked together with Ryan's hot animal cock. But now having connected with me Ryan's cock was burning to penetrate the body I was attached to. Ryan soon complied, turning Steve around and bending him over his desk. Suddenly I felt out of the action, and I hung there, yearning to press against him again. Then I felt it. Ryan's cock was slowly penetrating Steve's tight hot ass, and I could feel everything—Ryan's cock's ecstasy, the parting of the anus, the impatient twitching and slow joy of Steve's ass muscles, everything.

As Ryan's animal ponycock pushed relentlessly up Steve's tight, hot ass, I felt as though I were fucking and doing the fucking at the same time, only more so. All the times I'd fucked in my human body, I now realized, I was away from the action. I only felt a dim echo of what was really going on. Now I was getting everything and I almost couldn't take it. I was deluged with hot, passionate pleasure, and it was frying my circuits.

Even as I wondered what it would be like to be up Steve's ass I was there, swollen and huge and hot and engulfed in hot, tight muscle, pressed hard all around me. I thought I had been feeling pleasure before, but that was nothing compared to this. I was being slid deep inside Steve's tight ass, and it felt so unbelievably awesome that I couldn't take it for long. Ryan seemed to understand and started to pound Steve's ass, and this quickly brought me to the edge. I could feel the searing cum welling up in my lime-sized balls, tried to hold it back as long as I could—I could feel Steve's cum building too—then suddenly the dam burst and I was exploding, enormous quantities of pumping through my body, each one an ecstasy, until I couldn't take it any more and blacked out.

When I came to I was a little disoriented. I knew I was lying half-hard across a lap, but I could see Steven a few feet away, leaning against the desk, looking gorgeous. His cock was still hard, pointing straight up at his navel.

"I see you still won't get any work done," I felt/heard Ryan say, and I realized hazily that I hadn't just imagined trading places with Ryan's cock—I really had! No wonder I had felt the full force of that incredible orgasm. That meant that the passion animal was now in Steven's cock—no wonder it was still rock-hard.

I glanced up at my new host—Ryan was even more gorgeous from this angle, every detail of his expert design visible from here except his beautiful backside. Turned on by the turn of events, I started to stretch—and got more turned on as I stretched, and stretched, and kept stretching. Oh, I liked this a lot.

"You either," I heard Steven rumble. "Maybe we should try again."

"Wish I could," Ryan said, drawing on his jeans. The last thing I heard before he zipped up the jeans over me was: "I've got a party to get to."