Breaking Quarantine

[6 word request: Huge Sweaty Feet Other Guys Grow]

Harold peered up over his living room windowsill, just below the blinds, allowing him the perfect vantage point to spy on his neighbor, Clay, having yet another gentleman suitor over to his house. Unwilling to break his laser focus on Clay’s front door, Harold patted along the ground for his phone, then held the camera just high enough to take a shot of today’s installment in Clay’s parade of men without being spotted.

Harold couldn’t believe the way Clay was acting--and during a pandemic! Everyone knew the rules: keep your distance, limit social interaction, wear a face mask. Clay never wore a mask! Just the week before, Clay had leaned over the fence while Harold was gardening and asked him how he was. A little spittle had landed right on Harold’s face shield! Luckily Harold had sanitizer just inside the door, but being that close to infection wasn’t something Harold could abide by.

“How do you think I’m doing?” Harold had shouted to himself, flustered, as he scrubbed Clay’s possibly infected saliva from his face shield. “We’re all under quarantine! We’re all doing awful!” Harold’s only regular contact was with his elderly mother via a Zoom call she lacked the technical savvy to properly navigate.

Yesterday the grocery delivery man possibly smiled at Harold--he couldn’t tell exactly, because of his mask, but his eyes seemed to signify a smile--and Harold was overwhelmed by what a beautiful man he was--possibly, as Harold couldn’t quite tell beyond his mask. But Harold had hope that at least a good friendship would develop there! And if not, it was another two hour conversation that began with him telling a ninety year old woman how to unmute herself.

But Clay was living the life! Probably collecting unemployment without even looking for a job, Harold figured. Thus far he had only caught the men leaving his house. They were all the same--big, muscley oafs in clothes so tiny and revealing that Harold couldn’t conceive of how they squeezed into them.

(Last night, in a sudsy bath, Harold imagined how one of them, a particularly burly black gentleman simply busting out of his seams, was able to pull his skin-tight jean shorts up over his big ass and, admittedly, he became so flushed he had to get out of the tub entirely.)

Harold’s heart leapt when Clay’s front door opened--this was it! Time to snap more pictures and post them on Front Door to shame Clay into submitting to safe quarantine behaviors! The ogre leaving Clay’s house was as absurdly huge as all the rest of them. His scraggly red hair set him apart, however, as did the fact that his shirt barely hung past his ample, bulging pecs. Good lord, his abdomen! It was smooth, round, but looked firm, lightly dusted with red hair.

Harold watched the huge redhead kiss Clay goodbye, lifting the much smaller man off his feet with each. Then the huge beast turned away, bouncing with every step--hypnotically. Those big pecs, and that huge rump, just bounce bounce bounce… Harold was so distracted by the sheer physics of the enormous man’s muscles navigating around each other that he almost forgot to get a picture!

With evidence in hand, Harold stepped away--then cursed his shaky hands. The pictures were blurry! He ran to the front door, quietly creeping onto his porch and peeking up over the railing, hoping for one last shot.

“Oh, hello there,” said a deep booming voice. Harold started so violently that his phone flew into the air. The giant redhead caught it and handed it back. Harold was transfixed by the size of the big man’s muscular fingers in comparison to his own dainty digits. “What are you doing back there?” the giant asked innocently, casually pawing at his own immense pectoral muscle, squeezing it like it was a stress ball.

“I… I…” Harold immediately felt guilty, but found a way to shift it to self-righteousness. “What am I doing? What are YOU doing is the question!” Harold grabbed a mask from his pocket and slid it over his face, followed by pulling on latex gloves he’d had in his other pocket. “We are in the middle of a GLOBAL PANDEMIC!” Harold shouted, poking the big man in his giant chest (good lord, it was hard as a rock!). “Haven’t you any conception of SOCIAL DISTANCING? What, were you too busy LIFTING WEIGHTS to pay attention to the NEWS? I mean, SERIOUSLY, where are you even building those muscles? Gyms are closed!”

The redhead--who seemed younger than Harold had originally surmised--just chuckled, scratching his stubbly beard and putting both hands on Harold’s porch railing. “Mr. Somerset, you sure are cute when you get all feisty like that…”

The voice was unfamiliar--too deep and slow as molasses--but something about his words seemed so familiar. “How do you… know me…” Harold said, stepping back as the big man easily hopped over the railing and approached him. “S-stop!” Harold said. “I don’t allow strangers on my property!”

The big redhead chuckled; as he did, the skintight croptop t-shirt tore in a dozen different spots. “C’mon, Mr. Somerset, you know me. It’s Leonard. I’ve lived down the street for two years now.”

Harold paused, flummoxed by the proclamation--how could this be Leonard, the skinny college student who rented an apartment around the corner? Harold had hired Leonard to water his lawn the first summer he had moved in to help him pay for the next year’s textbooks and they had maintained a distant but friendly relationship ever since.

“I know you probably don’t recognize me looking like this,” the big man said, flexing arms so big Harold thought his eyes might pop out just trying to take them all in. “But we might as well enjoy all this muscle while I have it, right?” A huge paw snatched Harold’s hand and guided it to the bulging flesh. Harold’s skin tingled when he touched it--so smooth, so hard. He wanted to cuddle up to its warmth.

“No!” Harold said, jerking his hand back. His eyes fell to the giant redhead’s bulging crotch--how long could that struggling denim material continue to contain all that manhood? And what would happen if it gave way (with Harold right at ground zero)? “I don’t know you--I have no idea how you know my name?”

The huge man continued to chuckle, guiding Harold’s hand to his gut--which was as warm and firm as Harold had imagined. “I know I should ask permission, but Mr. Somerset, you really gotta smell this…” He flexed his arm again and dipped his head to breathe deeply of his armpit. “Mmm… God, it smells so damn good. But you can’t do it with a mask on.” With a single pluck of his thumb, the big beast snapped Harold’s mask off, then pulled the man in.

Harold couldn’t help to take a long sniff of the musky pit. It made his knees weak. His eyes rolled back in his head. He wanted to wash his hair in that smell.

“Your mouth is so cute, Mr. Harold,” the brute said, running a meaty index fingers over Harold’s lips, “but I bet it’s even better when you smile.”

“I don’t…” Harold was shocked as he opened his mouth and swallowed the finger whole. The brute chuckled and stroked Harold’s back with a massive hand as Harold suckled at the finger, gagging on it.

SNAP! The denim shorts burst open, an obscenely large cock popping free, slapping Harold gently in the face. A dollop of warm precum slid down his forehead. Harold considered sealing up his mouth, but as it tickled his upper lip, his tongue darted up and slurped some in. It tasted… magnificent.

“See, I knew you knew how to have fun,” the big brute said, casually jacking the wrist-sized cock with his hand. He lifted Harold off the ground and held him against his beefy chest like a teddy bear. “That’s right, buddy, just relax, nuzzle my pecs while I jerk my cock… That’s what I want…”

Harold did as he was told, unable to resist the velvety softness of the big man’s sparse chest fur over the big, juicy muscles that bulged and flexed as the big man jerked his huge cock. It seemed to be over far too soon for Harold, who whimpered as the brute fired a hefty load all over Harold’s entryway.

“Aw, Mr. Somerset, that was way too sweet,” the big man said, tearing the remains of his shirt free and doing a poor job at mopping up the sticky puddle. “I’ll be back later to clean this up more…”

“Don’t… don’t worry about it,” Harold said, his whole body buzzing. He was unable to summon the rage he needed to appropriately react to the mess in his house. He felt as if the massive man had somehow awoken nerves in Harold’s body he’d never used before. He was drooling! He could barely stand! He just waved goodbye weakly as the man walked out the door, blowing him a kiss in response.

A full hour later, after Harold had collapsed into a deep nap on the couch, he furiously mopped up the… he couldn’t believe he would even THINK the word… SEMEN… on his floor, shaking with rage. He’d had a home intruder! (A hunky, beautiful home intruder he hoped would return…) Clay can’t have his guests just impersonating neighborhood college students! (Although the big guy was just as sweet and dopey as Leonard always had been…) Above all, he’d violated QUARANTINE! He could have been EXPOSED! (And he would love to be again…)

With a new mask on, skin still raw with sanitizer, Harold marched over to Clay’s house. He poked at the buzzer with his gloved finger.

“It’s open!” came the distant, lazy call from within.

Harold was furious. The audacity! He wasn’t even coming to the door? No way was Harold going to go into that--no doubt--filthy place. He paused, turned away from the door, then remembered the young man TRESPASSING in his house. He flashed on the taste of the big man’s finger, which made his face warm, but immediately cringed in shame. He grabbed the handle and burst into the house.

“Excuse me, don’t you know there’s a PANDEMIC going on?” Harold shouted as he walked in. The place smelled like a locker room. Harold had no doubt it was filled with mold. He was thankful he had a mask on!

Harold found Clay sitting on his couch with a beer in his lap. The skinny man wore a bathrobe that was wide open, his fit, athletic body nude beneath it! Harold kept his eyes up so as to avoid possibly seeing Clay’s genitals. He was a handsome man, with deep smoky eyes and prominent cheekbones; why did he have to be such an unruly slob?

“Your FRIEND,” Harold began, but Clay didn’t turn away from his television. Harold looked at it, annoyed, then continued with his rant: “Your FRIEND just barged into my house yesterday! Like it was nothing!”

Clay put both of his hands behind his head. Harold couldn’t help but sneak a peek at his well-shaped arms, so tight and sinewy. He licked his lips, grateful he could hide it behind his mask.

“Who, Leonard?” Clay still, still staring at his television. His words drooped, like he had just woken up moments before. “He’s your friend too, isn’t he? Used to do your lawn or some shit?”

“Clay, you could be spreading DISEASE with this behavior!” Harold declared. “Don’t you care about the people you’re putting at risk!”

Clay stretched his body. Harold’s eyes traced the smooth swimmer’s body. They slid past his completely shaved pubic area--and his long, beautiful dick--down to his feet. Harold couldn’t pull his gaze from them.

“Aren’t you at risk too, coming in my house like this?” Clay chuckled.

Harold barely heard him. He was focused on those feet; they were HUGE! They looked like they belonged on the giant man from before! Clay stretched the huge things--they had to be size 17, at least!--and wiggled his toes. Harold licked his lips again.

“Look, since you came over, it’s only fair you get to… enjoy some of my blessing…”

Harold was appalled, ready to recoil from such a lecherous proposition--but he could smell Clay’s feet. They smelled disgusting, so thick and musky… but he wanted to keep smelling them. He couldn’t tear himself away from them.

“See, it looks like you’re already hooked,” Clay said, lifting his feet in the air. They seemed to be throwing off heat. Harold wanted to press his face against them! “It’s my curse. These big fuckers are terrible for shoe shopping and they make any man who smells them hooked immediately. And that’s not all…”

Harold had already sunk to his knees. He pulled off his mask without a thought and leaned forward--WHAT WAS HE DOING?--but he had to breathe that delicious smell.

“You wanna suck one of them?” Clay teased. “Start with the pinkie. That little guy.” He wiggled the pinkie toe on his right foot. God, it looked so cute… what did it taste like? Harold wondered.

He leaned forward, gingerly tapping it with his tongue before kissing it. Those feet smelled better up close! He ran his tongue between Clay’s toes and finally slurped the pinkie toe down, suckling at it like it would give him milk.

“Your clothes are looking a little tight there, neighbor--tighter than usual.”

It was true; Harold’s sleeves felt tight around his arms, and as he leaned forward he heart the seat of his pants tear, but he couldn’t help himself. He took Clay’s feet in both hands, then shucked his gloves and ran his fingers along their soles. God, they were so smooth! He gently touched the hairs on each toe, then licked along the arch, pressing his face into the heel. He wanted to climb into these beautiful feet--be one with them.

RIP! Harold felt a cool breeze over his back. His collar seemed to choke him for a moment before he heard a pop. He could feel his clothes shredding with every movement--why the hell was this happening?--but he couldn’t pull himself away from the amazing smell and the sensuous feel of these feet.

“That’s enough, boy,” Clay said, pressing his foot against Harold and pushing him away. “Stand up. Let’s get a look at you.”

As Harold stood, he heard his pants shredding around his thighs. He blinked as he looked down at his body, then looked around the room in a panic once he had risen to his feet. Everything in the room looked smaller. He felt like he was too high! But no, he was just taller--and BIGGER! His whole body had swollen up! He couldn’t comprehend his own body as he moved it, examining thighs so massive they pushed his feet apart. He tried to put his arms down but they sat on his wide back. He could barely see past the mammoth pecs he had sprouted! He grabbed them and squeezed, letting out a soft moan as he did.

“Look at you! You grew up nice,” Clay said as he rose to his feet, rubbing a hand over Harold’s now-rippling back. The big muscle-bull moaned at the sensation. Just casual touch drove Harold wild!

“On your knees, big man,” Clay said gently, but Harold felt compelled to obey. He was three times the size of Clay now, built like he could flip a car, but he knew he had to take care of this wonderful man.

Why was he there again?

On his knees, he stared up at Clay lovingly.

“Look at my big old muscle cow,” he said, then with a flick of his hips, slapped Harold across the face with his big dick. “God, you’re as big as livestock now. On all fours.”

Harold did as he was told. From this submissive vantage point he was able to look down at his body, all swelled up and bulging, rippling with muscles he’d never had before. His dick had remained the same size, but as he twisted his wide torso to look behind himself, he realized his ass had swollen out like a bean bag chair. Clay grabbed Harold’s big pillowy cheeks in both hands,muscle growth then gave them a resounding slap. A single finger traced along the canyon between those big, puffy glutes.

“You ready to moo loud for me, cow?” Clay said.

Harold licked his lips, ready for anything Clay had in store for him.