Bananas for Bruce
We didn't usually go out on Wednesday nights, but that Wednesday we did. It had been a hard week with midterms, and me and a few of my buddies wanted to go out to reward ourselves. We were all gay, so we headed out to a low-key gay bar in our neighborhood. We had quite a few, and before I knew it, I was getting free drinks from a man down at the other end of the bar.
He was handsome. Big. Muscular. He had dark features and a heavy brow. Hair popping out from all sides of his tank. A little brutish--the opposite of my skinny, smooth, blonde and 22 year-old body. I could pass for 16 and he was no younger than 35. But he was sweet, and seemed well-intentioned. And I was getting drunker. Bruce was his name, I found out. And before long we were making out. And then we went back to his place. I remember him basically carrying me back to his apartment, a stylish studio only a few blocks from the bar.
He poured me a glass of water in his kitchen. I dropped it, too drunk to see straight. He just smiled:
"Don't worry about it. These things happen."
Then I kissed him. I started groping at him, reaching into his pants, rubbing my fingers down through his hairy bush to play with his balls. As I started to undo his fly, he whispered--his tongue practically in my ear--"You're drunk. Let's save this."
And he wrapped me up close to him and lay me down on his bed, kissing me gently and he pulled off my clothes and sent me off to sleep.
I woke up the next morning alone in the bed. The sun was streaming into the apartment, and I could barely make out the outline of a note lying next to a banana.
"had to go to work, great meeting you. have this, it's good for hangovers. call me when you have a chance--would love to see you again.
bruce"
His number was written out underneath it all. I was sad that he was gone. I wished that he'd woken me.
Looking at my phone, I saw the time--shit. I had 20 minutes to class. I scurried about the room, gathering my clothes.
But I couldn't find my underwear. I only saw a slightly large pair of yellow briefs. They must have been Bruce's. But I had an impulse. I had to wear them--it seemed sexy, to carry him with me all day. An odd little secret, just for me, in the midst of what was bound to be a rough day. They hung loose around my package, but the elastic was tight enough to give it a hold around my waist. Maybe he wouldn't even notice they were missing--besides, where had my underwear gone?
So I ran out of the house with my banana in my hand, last night's clothes, and Bruce's underwear on underneath. I didn't have my bag, but I'd just have to hide in the back of the class and take notes on borrowed paper.
"Hamish, you look like shit," said my friend Stuart and I rushed in and snagged a pen and some pages from him. "Where did you go last night?"
~
CLASS was impossible. I had a terrible headache and I could hardly grasp the more basic philosophical principles in the lecture. Usually it was easy (otherwise I wouldn't have gone out the night before), but I spent the whole class doodling and nibbling on my banana. I was anxious, too. I couldn't stop moving.
Bruce's underwear seemed to be producing heat. Or I was. It almost felt like someone was caressing my balls and licking the sparse hairs I had down there. I was hard as a rock for the entirety of the 1:30 long class, even with the headache.
I even let out a small grunt when the class was released. Stuart gave me a look.
"I just really need to pee," I said.
I ran to the bathroom. I did need to pee, but I also needed to make sure he believed my excuse. I had no idea why I had grunted. I went into a stall to catch my breath. I undid my fly, only to find something odd.
The underwear had filled out. Yes, my package was bigger inside it. But also, it looked like dark hairs were growing out of it. A few stray hairs, black and thick poked out of all sides of the briefs. They intermingled with my few downy blonde hairs, and only lined the edges of the underwear.
I pulled down the briefs to find that I had a multi-colored bush. The black hairs were filling in the gaps between my sparse blonde pubes. They were longer--maybe two to three inches, and there were more of them. Not a whole lot, but enough to be absolutely bizarre. They were most concentrated around my balls, which now looked like two (larger?!) fuzzy black golf balls hugging my crotch. Out of a stranger curiosity, I followed the hair back up my taint and between my ass. It was intense there, too, thinning as it moved outward.
Not to mention, my dick was at least two inches bigger. And hard as a rock. I had to sit to pee.
I was in shock. I pulled the underwear back on.
I texted Bruce--something told me I had to--
"Hey. This is Hamish. I have your underwear--must have been a mix-up."
Then I added.
"Would love to see you later. Want to meet up?"
I needed to take a run to get my mind off of this. So I went home. Threw on some shorts and a tank. And set off.
~
Five miles later, I was home. I wasn't tired, but I was sweaty as all hell. I'd ran the fastest I ever had and felt like I had another five in me. But I didn't want to hurt myself.
My gait had been weird. I found I was running wider than usual--maybe to make room for the balls?
I walked into the kitchen that me and my roommates shared and just started shoving food into my mouth. There was a leftover burger that I ate in two minutes. I downed three protein shakes and raided a whole bunch of bananas from the pantry. Then I hit my shoulders on the way out. I had to turn sideways to get out.
What?
I ran to the bathroom.
I was bigger, no doubt. Wide around the shoulders, and hunched. My tank looked strained, as did the waistband of my shorts. I had a bit of a gut peaking out--and black hairs. Lots of them.
But I was distracted by my stench. I reeked. I lifted up my armpit, only to be greeted by a thick patch of black... fur?
I was smiling. And I was hard as a rock. I let out a screech and bore my teeth at the mirror.
That's when I caught glimpse of my face.
I had a dark, dark five o'clock shadow that started well into my cheeks and crawled down to the middle of my neck. My lips looked puffy. Wild black hairs were taking over my blonde eyebrows, bridging the gap between them and making them larger. It was like they were overtaking the blonde.
Was there a ridge forming above my eyes?
And had my hairline moved forward? It also looked like my blonde hair was showing its roots--and I was a natural blonde!
My phone went off. It was Bruce.
"Hey you. I think I know what happened. Meet you at 6 at my place?"
A wave of pleasure came over me just thinking of him. I wanted him to see me like this, maybe he'd like me. I was turned on just looking at myself.
I stripped. I took off my tank, excited to see a thick treasure trail was working its way toward my chest, forming an upside-down v that widened by the waistband of my shorts. My chest was more muscular, the bones seemed larger, and I had developed a bit of a gut.
I pulled down my shorts, leaving the underwear on for anticipation. My thighs were a thicket of dark hair, matted with rank sweat and thinning out as it extended down my legs--which were now already hairy by any human standard. Were my legs shorter? No matter. There were definitely more muscular.
I removed the underwear and howled at the sight. I had two black fuzzy peaches hanging tight below a snakish cock, about a foot in length. Closer to 16 inches, now that it was erect. No skin could be seen. My dick was darker, I thought.
Dark brown?
I reached down to grab it, and it too was fuzzy. Every millimeter, from base to tip of the foreskin, covered in short blackish fuzz. It was soft on my hands, and each touch felt a million times greater now. I grunted, stroking up and down, faster and faster, thinking of Bruce all the while, imaging his face in my crotch.
I came in 7 rapid bursts.
As my brain cleared, I thought, I must text Bruce.
"I'll be over to yours at 6."
I looked at myself in the mirror. I had to do something about my appearance.
I'd shave what I could. I would buzz my hair--I had to, the roots. Was it getting worse?
I couldn't take of the underwear. Each time I tried, something would stop me.
I'd take care of my appearance, throw on my largest clothes, and go see Bruce.
I had two hours to make it happen.
~
I shaved what I could. I couldn't do anything about my fuzzy new cock, and the eyebrows and hair-line just got closer together. I left everything up to my waist in tact because I was running short on time.
With my shaved head and ever-increasing stubble from my waist up, I looked like a brutish member of the Soprano clan. I turned to leave the bathroom and noticed that the hair on my head was growing down in between my shoulders, thick as it was on the top, tapering to meet an elongated triangle of what looked like black fur coming out of my yellow underwear...
I threw on my biggest clothes, an old tank top that now fit snuggly and a set of baggy sweatpants that now fit my muscular legs like a glove. and I couldn't find any shoes that fit my enormous hairy feet.
I ran my way over to Bruce.
I ran as fast as I could, hunching over for aerodynamics. I could see my arms darkening as they swung rapidly, ever-closer to my feet. Thick jet-black hairs were working their way out of the stubble, starting like wild-fire at my elbows, poking out between the old stubble, speeding their way down my arms, circling my wrists and pushing their way back up my forearms while my hands and fingers became engulfed. The hair spread up my thickening hands and over my knuckles.
I was hot. I was burning up. I could smell a thick musk coming from my crotch. I needed to stop. I was sweating like crazy and everyone I passed was staring. I ran into an alley way, about a block from Bruce's house. I needed to get out of sight and collect myself.
I ripped off my tank without thinking to wipe my sweaty forehead. What I discovered underneath frightened me, but I could feel a huge erection forming in my pants as I noticed huge, dark nipples, hard as a rock, sticking out from a messy matt of hair on my chest that thickened into fur on my round stomach. I reached my hand into my pants to adjust my cock, feeling my hands bristle the fur that covered it.
I took my hands to my mouth and nose to sniff and felt my pants get wet with pre-cum. I felt my face. A dense beard ran all down and around my neck. My eyebrows seemed heavy-set--there was only one that connected thick in the middle. My hairline started just above them, from what I could tell. It felt like a thick brillo pad on my head.
I rubbed my back, scratching an itch. I had what felt like a forest that thickened in the middle. I scratched down my back, finding a fur forest exploding out of my sweats.
I needed to go. I could practically smell Bruce. I needed him. I needed him to pet me, to smell me, to stick his face in my forest.
What was I thinking? I didn't care any more.
I ran to his building, climbing up his stairs, using my hands as much as my feet.
I rang his bell.
As I stood, my body burning from the heat, I ripped off the pants.
Bruce opened the door.
"I see you borrowed my yellow briefs," he said as he pulled them down to reveal the forest of fur and my thick, hairy cock.
"Welcome to the jungle," I said.