The Giant of Bright Tower, Chapter 4

My eyes opened once again to the unfamiliar light of early dawn. I suppose this whole venture has me motivated to see the next day as soon as possible. As to whether it’s excitement or stress that’s leading the charge; well, that’s up for debate. I got out of bed, and after a quick trip to the bathroom I threw on some pajama bottoms and made my way downstairs.

I plopped down the last step and turned into the living room. The tent of blankets was now just a bumpy mound of pillows on the floor. I paused. I checked the bathroom; it was empty. I looked out the front door, Bubba’s truck was still in the driveway.

Where did he go? I guessed he might be in the kitchen, though I felt like anyone that large must have been making sound of some kind. I walked back past the living room and it was from that angle when I could see the foot poking out from beneath the blankets. I paused. Looking at the mound of blankets again, I noticed a vague human outline.

I got down on my knees and crawled softly to the mound. Finding the edge of the blankets, I softly lifted them until I could make out the now much smaller torso of Bubba. I could only see a small part of his midsection. A small slab of flesh hung sideways on his frame, a lopsided bellybutton stuck in the middle of it. Quietly, I laid the blankets down and shuffled back to the edge of the living room.

This is going to require thinking, I said to myself, and thinking is going to require coffee.

I made my way to the kitchen and started a pot. The smell alone got my brain working, a jump start to its very soon dose of caffeine.

Bubba was no longer the massive mound of flesh that had to squeeze through the front door last night. There, a solid fact to start from. This means that even after the anti-serum was injected, the serum was still in effect long enough to burn through all of those calories, and even some of Bubba’s original fat. But he still had a bit of a belly, no ribs were visible just now. This means that the anti-serum has done its job and Bubba’s metabolism was back to normal. If it hadn’t, or if the dose of serum had been larger or if the anti-serum dose was too small…….

A small beep interrupted this dark train of thought; coffee was ready. Mixed with creamer, I took a deep contemplative inhale before a slow sip. The caffeine hadn’t even started working before I realized that Bubba would be awfully hungry when he wakes up.

Forty-five minutes later, the kitchen was a mess and I looked like I just ran a marathon in the desert. Sweat was dripping into my eyes, and I hastily wiped my face with a paper towel, focusing on not burning this batch of bacon. The grease popped and spit onto my bare chest, as Bubba’s apron hung too low on my chest to offer any real protection. Finally, I moved the bacon onto a plate, covering the slightly darker strips. Setting the pan aside, I moved to the griddle to flip the third batch of pancakes.

“Steve?”

I spun around. Bubba was standing in the doorway, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a robe, one hand holding it to his chest. He stood with a dazed look on his face, looking around the messy kitchen and then back to me.

“Heyyyyyyy Bubba,” I hesitated, taking in the strange expression on his face. He must have literally just woken up, which meant he may not be aware of what was under the blanket. “Um, I made breakfast,” I looked around, “I made it to the best of my ability. I have a big pot of oatmeal. Well, the top layer is oatmeal, the bottom layer is more like glue so-”

Bubba released the blanket, and I could do nothing but stare. He had been refined; no others words could describe his appearance. Bubba had been an enormous mass, and whatever else my serum has done to him, it had stripped away a great deal of fat, leaving only muscle behind. It wasn’t a leaned out appearance like bodybuilders who appeared spray-tanned on stage at competition. What was plump before had become mounds and valleys. His huge chest had a sharper crevice in the middle. Shoulders rounded into spherical biceps, which hooked into hard forearms. His torso curved into solid hips, a soft arc of a belly turned back into his waist before bowing back out to thick, defined legs. As the blanket fell past his waist and crumpled on the floor, it caught on his erect manhood, causing it to sway before him above two orange sized balls that hung below.

“Wow,” I stared, “You, uh, um…you look different?”

Bubba crossed the kitchen in three strides, picked me up and pinned me to the fridge. He pressed into me hard, I could actually feel the fridge tilt back behind me as his mouth ran over every inch of my face and neck. He sucked hard; his tongue pressing and kneading into my neck. I could only moan, grabbing onto him, feeling his muscles beneath my hands coil as one hand held me up and the other pulled down my pj bottoms. I was on my feet again, then the next second he was squatting down and pulling me to the floor. I managed to pull the apron off, and toss it aside; it seemed like a potential choking hazard. He fell to the floor and dragged me on top of him into a crushing hug against his body. It was incredible; he was so big that I lay on him without touching the floor. Through our entwined limbs, I could feel this cock rubbing against the side of my leg.

With a flourish, he rolled us over. Pinning me on my back to the floor of my kitchen, he pushed up. Arms holding himself above me, he gazed into my eyes with a question. I looked back into them and nodded. He leaned back. Grabbing a bottle of canola oil from the counter, he popped the cap with one thumb. Slathering it all over his crotch, he fingered some into my ass. Years of being single and my dildo collection meant he moved up to four fingers quickly and without difficulty. With one hand, he held one of my legs up in the air. With the other, he positioned himself against me. Keeping his eyes on my face for any sign of pain, he slowly pushed himself into me. My breath caught, and my hands curled into fists. Damn he was big. He took it slowly, but never lessened. From what I felt of the firmness inside me, I knew he was in desperate need of this and was holding a lot back. Finally, he was all the way in. He held it there for a moment, eyes in mine, arms shaking not from the strain of holding himself up. I lay there and focused on relaxing, wriggled around a little though this seemed to entice him. I readied myself and nodded.

His hips raised up and then came fell down for a plunge. A moan escaped my lips. The next one was quicker, the one after that was harder. Bubba quickly found his rhythm and I was getting the plowing of my life. Each thrust was wild, driven; he could barely keep himself from going over the edge and crushing me beneath him. Soon we were both working up a sweat, and I started to slide across the floor with each of Bubba’s thrusts; only his hands around my ankles keeping me from sliding too far. Bubba looked down, frustrated, as my movement was interfering with his pace. He looked around the kitchen, his eyes finding the table cluttered with breakfast ingredients.

“Table…out back…”I managed to huff out. I admit I was tempted with the cliché movie idea of Bubba sweeping his arm and knocking everything to the floor to pound me on my own kitchen table. However, I was just clearheaded enough to remember that would mean a big mess to clean up later. Bubba leaned down to reach behind my back and in one movement stood up in my kitchen while still inside me. Being the size that I am, I have never been in this position before and was unprepared for just how deep this slammed his throbbing dick inside me. I cried out as my hands reached up and around his neck. Dimly, I was aware of Bubba moving his hands to my ass for support as he started walking to the back door.

Outback was a brick patio I’ve never known what to do with except plop down a square plastic picnic table. Bubba made it there is three strides. Cradling my head, he made a real effort not to slam me down too hard. Once settled, he found standing gave him maximum leverage, and resumed his tempo with even more forceful thrusts, his huge swollen balls slapping hard against me. Breath almost a snarl, Bubba was lost in his desire and I don’t think he could stop even if I needed him to. Trouble was, I don’t think I could have brought myself to ask. His arms on the table were tight against the top of my thighs, locking me in place as his hips moved back and forth like a machine. My hands gripped the side of the tabletop, my feet held high in the air in his vicelike grip. I was completely at the mercy of this muscular giant, and we would stop when he said so.

Then Bubba started a low groan. He grunted and growled, and picked up the tempo even faster. He leaned forward with my legs in his hands, which immediately bettered the angle for him to hit my prostate, and it was like I was hit with lighting. The feeling pulsed through me with each rapid thrust again and again. I struggled and squirmed, which he took no notice of. Within seconds, I gripped the table as hard as I could as I came, spurting white hot cum on my belly. My ass clenched, which is all Bubba needed. Three thrusts that reached my throat and then with a roar his dick popped out and exploded with a white fountain. Huger spurts of hot jizz shot out of him; I felt a thick rope slap my face from chin to forehead. Bubba shuddered and gasped as he continued to snow everything in front of him, and I was trapped in his blizzard. Slowly, Bubba’s dick pulsed less and less, until it return to its usual droop with only a lonely dribble of cum hanging from its head.

It was like Bubba has thrown a gallon of milk on everything in front of him. My skin was glazed and I could feel it oozing off me. I raised my cleanest hand up to wipe it out of my eyes, which is all the movement I felt able to do right now. I felt Bubba’s hands reach down to pick me up and hold me against his chest, smearing his hairy chest with his own mess. I was too spent to ask what he was doing, I simply dropped my head to his shoulder and closed my eyes. I felt him take a few steps onto the lawn and collapse onto his back. I lay on top of him, and he felt warm and sticky beneath me. One hand on my back keeping me against him, I felt his chest rise and fall slowly.

Could this actually be real? I asked myself as my own breath slowed. The sun warm on my bare back, I started ti drift off and wondered how any dream I might have be better than this.