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You Are What You Eat Written by Brock Hoss and Leo Todrius

It was a late and lingering evening, but then it usually was on the road. The highway stretched across the state like a concrete river snaking its way through the dusty, sandy plains. The horizon was painted in hues of gold and violet as the stars slowly twinkled into being overhead. It had all the hallmarks of a country song, from the sun-cracked tarmac to the occasional tumbleweed. The only real break from the pure isolation was that the road was well traveled enough to support an occasional business. There were a few rest stops, a few trucker friendly restaurants, and even a good Thai restaurant that dotted the hundreds of miles of otherwise unpopulated roadway.

Step by step, the well-worn neon blue sneakers treaded along the sunbaked road. There was still a bit of heat coming off of it, but at least the air was cooling down at last. Logan had been walking for what seemed like an eternity, but without enough money for a bus, let alone a taxi, hoofing it on foot had been his only option. The only downside was that the young man had guessed poorly on how long it would take him to get to the rest stop. There was no way he'd make it before midnight at this rate.

A hand extended into the roadway before a thumb popped up, gilded with a spiked metal ring around the base. It matched the vague aesthetic Logan had managed to cultivate over the last few years. His normally blonde hair had been shorn into a fade with a fauxhawk with streaks of neon blue, and the earrings in his lobes weren't half as big as the ones visible against the thin, sheer material of his black shirt. Even his leg had an anarchy "A" tattooed on it, visible just below the leg of his shorts.

After some time of standing with his thumb in the air, someone finally took the hint that he wasn't just giving passing traffic a thumbs up and pulled over a little ways down the road. It was a large motorhome, tricked out with all the latest upgrades, painted in an inoffensive, neutral crème color with mulberry accents and stripes. A similarly-colored "W" insignia was tucked away in the upper corner of the back end, marking the RV as a Winnebago. Logan's excitement to get a ride far outpaced his usual aversion to the color mulberry. The door popped open as the teen ran up alongside the vehicle and out filtered a country song that he wasn't familiar with. Beyond the door on the bottom step stood a similarly blonde-haired man of about 40. He was of an average height, body type, and disposition. Nothing about him would give him any reason to stand out in a crowd, unlike Logan.

"Hey there," he greeted in a similarly unremarkable voice, "need a lift?" Logan cracked a soft smile, hoping this man was the all american mid-life crisis he looked like and not some well cultured serial killer. There wasn't anything threatening about the man that he could see.

"You have no idea," Logan said, moving toward the RV. "Thanks so much man, this is really nice of you."

"Hey, no problem, kid! Hop on in!" the man replied with his own easy smile, revealing one distinct feature - a gold tooth on his top left. He moved back to the wheel as Logan followed him in, taking care to shut and lock the door behind him. Inside was a luxurious set-up with tan carpets, white wallpaper with faint bronze designs that Logan didn't pay much mind to, a well-off kitchenette, and several comfy-looking sofas facing an HD flatscreen television and entertainment system set back into the wall. At the back was a small hall to a master bedroom with a king-sized bed shoved into the cramped space with a small closet and a rustic white clothes hamper.

"My name's Eli, by the way. And you are?" the blonde man inquired as he started the RV and pulled it back on the highway. As the sun dipped below the Rockies in the distance and cast the surrounding desert scrub further into darkness the song ended and the more familiar "On the Road Again" began to play over the surround sound. Logan was a bit stunned at first, looking around at the mobile luxuriousness. If the RV had pulled back up in his home neighborhood, it would have been pulled apart and sold for parts.

"Logan. Wow, this is really nice... like a rolling palace," Logan said in wonder.

"Cost me my entire nest egg," Eli explained. "Sort of a gift to myself after I won the lottery. Figured I'd travel the country and take in the sights." The man glanced back briefly to his new passenger, a whimsical smile gracing his face. "As you might imagine, the sight of the desert got old about two days ago." He laughed, and they then fell into a lingering silence.

After a while, long after "On the Road Again" had ended and, fittingly, "Sundown" began, Eli's stomach gurgled loudly. "Hey back there!" the traveler called out. "You hungry, Logan? My treat, of course." He spied a rather empty-looking truck stop up ahead with a sign that read "NINER-NINER DINER AND TRUCKSTOP - Best Stir-Fry For Two-Hundred (200) Miles". Eli glanced back again. "We could pull in here and grab a bite, if you're interested?"

"Really? I mean, I just wanted a ride. I didn't mean to take advantage of you... But a real meal does sound good, I've been getting by on trail mix for a day and a half," Logan said, blushing. He wondered if his father had actually been around if he would have been half as generous as Eli.

"Hey, you're not taking advantage, bud. I'm offering," Eli assured him as they pulled into the Niner-Niner's parking lot. It was a standard middle-of-nowhere truckstop setup. All the necessary equipment for big rig maintenance was off to one side and the gas pumps sat opposite. Two especially large rigs were kitty corner from one another, the nearest of which Eli pulled up alongside of. Bathed in the flickering, sickly red glow of the neon, the two blondes trooped out of the motorhome and into the diner. A young man - likely not more than a few years older than Logan - with a name tag proclaiming him to be "Stevie" wiped his mouth quickly with the back of his hand as they entered, and fixed his bedraggled brown hair with a comb. Turning to them, he welcomed them inside and pointed them to a table.

At the far end, the largest booth in the place was stacked high with what seemed like every plate, platter, bowl, utensil, and cup in the restaurant. Both of the travelers stared in shock as Stevie moved them away to the other side of the diner. "We have some regulars with biiiig appetites," he offered, glancing hesitantly to the bathrooms near the doors to the kitchen. "They'll be headed out shortly... I hope." Turning back and obviously hoping they didn't hear the last bit, the young man took their drink order and bustled off to the back.

"Have you come out to this part of the country before, or are you exploring with your RV?" Logan asked, running his hand over the laminated menu with reverence, wondering just what options might be ahead of him. There was a battle inside his heart between the greed at suddenly having options, and the moral weight of not offending his surprise benefactor with too lavish of a selection.

"Just exploring. Figured I'd give it a whirl. I mean, I've gotten pretty far. I started in Maine!" he chuckled, turning through the menu pages. "Hmmm... the slim jim looks good, but then I could also devour a burger. And yet, the stir-fry's on the sign." Eli laughed a bit and glanced up at Logan as Stevie came back with their drinks. "Something tells me my eyes are getting bigger than my stomach."

"Well, that'd be good for business," the waiter remarked cheekily.

"Yeah, but it'd be bad for my wallet!" the older man replied and they both laughed.

"You two ready to order?"

"I'm not. I'll choose while you're getting his order. Logan?"

"Y-Yeah, the stir-fry, and your strongest coffee," Logan said, trying to sound determined. Back home he'd put on a tough bravado, but having to rely on the kindness of strangers was new for him. He didn't want to fail in this new social situation, so starting with some clear choices felt like the best bet. He looked up at Eli, wondering just what he might pick off of such a fantastic array of foods.

Eli noted Logan's bravado, and frowned a bit. "Uh, the bacon double cheeseburger with onion rings, please," he answered. "Thanks." Stevie nodded, collecting the menus and putting the order in at the kitchen. Then, Eli noticed, he ducked into the bathroom. Turning back to Logan, the older man looked concerned. "Are you okay, kid?"

"What, yeah! I mean you've made my day... A ride, a meal. It's really more generous than I could have been expecting," Logan said, taking a moment longer to realize like Eli that Stevie had gone to the bathroom right after dropping off the order.

"But you seem like... I dunno, like you're really trying to seem all tough," the older man began. "You don't need to be, alright? Everything's fine here, I-" He was cut off by a low, erotic moan from the bathroom. Turning to it, then back to Logan, he arched a brow. "Should we investigate?"

"What?" Logan asked in surprise, his lip curling into a surprised smirk. "Well, I mean I could see what was holding up our order..." Logan said, a bit surprised. Perhaps those were the strings this kindly older man had in mind. Was this a taste of what was to come? Still, it wouldn't hurt to clear his head. Logan scooted out of the booth and stood up, stretching a bit. "I did have to piss anyway."

The smell of sweat and cum poured out of the bathroom as Logan approached, but while he thought he would be turned off, there was a strange appeal to the smell. As he opened the door and ducked inside, he saw the source. There was Stevie, spit-roasted on both ends by four of the fattest, longest cocks Logan had ever laid eyes on. All four giant rods were attached to the forested groins of two ginormous, burly men, each easily a half ton of sheer, unadulterated, thickly-furred trucker beef. At a minimum they had to be eight-and-a-half feet tall. They dripped with sweat, and their plaid flannel sleeveless shirts were more courtesies than proper garments. Massive muscle-fat pecs sat atop enormous, firm ball-guts, and were supported by two thick, redwood-like trunks that were passing as legs. With arms to match, biceps partially obscured by waist-length curtains of gnarled armpit hair, and faces that passed through "homely" right into "ugly-hot", the two behemoths were truly a sight to behold.

The one on the left noticed Logan and grinned through his thick beard. "Well, fuck me!" he thundered in a booming voice. "We got us a newbie, Cletus! Shit, wish we had more dicks to skewer him on, don't you?"

"Oh, that's alright, I just came for a quick pee but I think I'll come back later!" Logan said. The other trucker chuckled, his ball belly jiggling as he did so. A hand came up to stroke through his long, bushy beard.

"Jimbo, you gotta be more creative than that. We can do a lot to this kid without just our cocks... Plus Steve-O here, he's got a good one somewhere down there, don't he?" Cletus questioned.

"With as much cocksnot as we've pumped him fulla?" Jimbo laughed, slapping his gut, causing his pit hair to flutter. "Fuck yeah he does! And if he don't, well... that oughta change mighty quick!" With that, he withdrew his dick from Stevie's mouth, and Cletus did the same on the other end. Logan stared in shock that they were sporting horse cocks, medial ring, dappled skin, and flat-yet-puffy heads and all. Stevie looked up at them, as if he was offended they'd stopped pumping him full of thick nut. His pants fell forward in the front, revealing a half-hard footlong horse cock leaking pre like a busted tap.

"Dude," Stevie said, "c'mere and help me with this thing!" It was really halfway between a request and a command, but it carried with it a certain power that couldn't be ignored. The uncut rod bobbed and throbbed up to its full length of two feet and "stared" at Logan with its "one good eye". Logan was stunned, almost startled into submission from the mere sight of it, but he started stumbling backwards, groping for the door.

"Uh, usually good to tip your waiter after the meal... " Logan said, feeling afraid but at the same time he groaned, his cock hardening in his pants just from the sheer ridiculousness of the scene before him.

"This ain't a tip, sweetheart," Jimbo boomed. "This is just courtesy." Stevie didn't seem to understand the word, as he strode over. His powerful hands made easy work of pinning Logan against the wall, and the punk's cries of resistance fell silent as the waiter shoved his hoss dick deep down Logan's throat. "Suck."

Logan mumbled around the cock, but there was something about the flavor that started seeping into him. Despite his best efforts, his tongue started to slather along the underside of the cock, his mouth practically unhinged to accommodate such girth. Logan felt a strange envy, his own erection growing even harder. He looked up at Stevie, seeing how he had once been such an innocent waiter... Now he was bigger, badder, and certainly sporting more stubble than he had when Eli and he had entered the place.

Stevie kept growing as he face-fucked Logan, his brown hair filling out and growing in places he'd never thought it would grow before. His face darkened, soon sporting a thick, bushy beard, and his body filled in to match over his increasingly-bloated musculature that seemed to be the titan truckers in relative miniature. After all, Stevie was now a good seven-and-a-half feet tall and four hundred pounds of trucker stud, growling and snarling as he slammed his rod into and out of Logan's mouth with an unbridled ferocity akin to that of a grizzly bear.

"Look at 'im go, brother!" Jimbo cried, clapping an enormous paw to Cletus's fur-coated cannonball shoulder. "I swear, the boys we make here are the orneriest lil' faggots!"

"Well, whatcha think he's gonna be? He grew with our baby batter, he's gotta be the best!" Cletus chuckled again before grabbing Jimbo's head, pulling him in for a heated kiss as their beards brushed and mingled, their obelisk-like cocks slapping together and squirting as they collided together, splattering their thick beards and bodies with gooey papa jizz. The two truckers went at it, fucking with animalistic power, barely able to keep track of the progress of the other two.

Logan's eyes watered, his mouth was overcome with saliva, practically everything felt wet. He was sat on the floor, and soon a wet spot began spreading across the crotch of his pants. Logan knew he should be freaked out, trying to get away, but that long hose of a horse cock sliding down his throat felt so right. The stubble on his face darkened to a deep mahogany, and began to grow thick and bushy, pushing down to his collarbone in short order. From there it kept expanding, a thick curtain of hair hanging down to his belly button, braided and plaited in various areas. The flesh behind it ballooned outwards, his pecs fattening into swollen splendor, his belly rounding out into a muscle gut, his ass swelling obscenely and his legs growing into muscular pillars. It was beautiful in its otherworldly splendor.

Stevie was looking increasingly like Jimbo and Cletus, in both size and demeanor, and he loved it despite his initial fear when they had entered an hour before. He no longer regretted walking in on them cock fucking each other now. As he continued to transform and resemble his hulking customers, the method of the waiter's fucking gained more paternal demeanor while still retaining his ferocity. Neither he nor anyone else was quite sure if that made total sense, but they all understood what it meant, so they figured it must. "Mmm," the waiter rumbled, "yeah, brother, suck m'fuckrod good n' proper-like."

Logan didn't need to be told twice, even as Stevie's second horse dick sprouted from his tangled thatch of pubes that hung down from his crotch like vines from a jungle canopy - after all, the drapes had to match the pit curtains. Into Logan's fur-hidden mouth the new dong went, alongside its twin brother. Behind the thick pubes were two extra-large coconuts that Stevie claimed were his balls - certainly, they sloshed loudly with cum as he thrust his hips. Behind them, he felt a bloated, puffy cunt push out and splatter a load of cum and cunt juices onto the tile floor and all down his inner thighs. Stevie let out a low, rumbling sigh of contentment. This was the life - fucking, reeking, and making a mess with his fluids.

Logan's eyes rolled into the back of his head, making him look like some sort of brainwashed slut. If one huge cock had been heaven, two pushed him above cloud nine. Somehow his throat was accommodating such massive girth, and the wet patch of cum on his lap gushed even wider, dripping down his legs, joining the wet slime on the floor. It seemed Stevie had claimed his own. Logan even started bobbing his head, feeling the cocks snake down his esophagus and reach his stomach directly.

As soon as that happened, they began to fire load after load of thick, musky ballbutter right into Logan's gut. Stevie pulled back, moaning all the while, and left only the tips in his lover's mouth, filling it full to bursting. He wanted to make sure his boy tasted all of that rank, tangy cum. "Y'like papa's jizz, big boy? Yeah y'do." Logan's eyes snapped back to attention and without any resistance whatsoever, he began to greedily gulp down the seed. There was almost a manic grin on his cock stuffed face as cum started to dribble down his chin while the rest was swallowed deep.

Logan had never felt comfortable in his own skin, not until that moment. Now nothing else mattered, there was no world. The bathroom was his universe and Stevie was his god as he guzzled down his papa's man seed, his own cock spraying down his legs with his inferior sperm... but it wasn't going to be inferior for long. With each gulp of Stevie's seed, Logan's load was thickening - and so was he.

The lanky teen punk was growing faster, as if puberty was catching up with him. His legs elongated, his arms stretched, and his ribs started to pop as his abdomen swelled. It was almost as if Logan's body was trying to make room for the massive loads of cum pouring into him from the twin cocks. His clothes were soaked from a mixture of his and Stevie's seed, but the pants were fighting another strain as well. The erection inside had been growing and growing. At last the shorts were giving out, stretching and stretching before a foot long horse cock erupted out from the waistband, flinging a line of cum across the messy bathroom.

It seemed the trucker cum was one of the least healthy things on the menu, as with every swallow Logan was adding pounds to himself. It seemed to be a roughly even mix of fat and muscle. His shirt grew tight and started to ride up as his pectorals fattened up, stretching out his nipples. His belly bloated and rounded, as did his ass cheeks, into a solid ball-gut and bubble-butt, respectively. He was plumping up by the second. Even his well trimmed blue hair was growing outward, getting greasier and longer, falling down the back of his neck and rappelling down further and further until it hit the floor behind his wide, rimmable ass and pooled slightly before stopping. His pit hair followed suit.

Cletus and Jimbo had seen a fair number of trucker boys born on the road, but few had changed as fast as Logan. He was a particularly good target, especially as his shirt snapped and revealed his broadening, hairy back, more overtly muscular than other areas. Each swollen, bloated muscle could be picked out with proper scrutiny, but the definition wasn't the best and the thick rug of hair compounded things further. The teen's punk aesthetic was washed away in a sea of sperm and sweat. Logan writhed on the tiled floor, his legs thickening and swelling to tremendous size to support his ever-engorging bulk.

All the pleasure and lust was a lot for Logan to hold in, and while his two-and-a-half-foot long cock was busy unleashing it in one form, there was another pressure sitting right behind his swollen balls. At first Logan thought in the back of his mind that it was just an errant feeling, but it proved to be something else, something far more erotic. A sudden crashing wave of juices came flooding out from between his legs, forming a sticky, gooey puddle as Logan's anatomy continued restructuring itself. The taint of flesh between his legs had parted, toughening up into perky lips as he gained a pussy. Logan murmured a mumbled curse as he came through his new snatch, looking up at Stevie in wonder.

Stevie, for his part, was currently fingering his own cunt, and moaning all the while as the thick sausages tucked into the folds and crannies of his wet, sticky man cave. Teasing himself to orgasm had to be his new favorite pastime. Such was his pleasure that the furry trucker hunk honestly wasn't paying Logan much mind, and that didn't sit well with the still-growing stud. His transformation gave a final surge, packing on pound after pound of solid daddy trucker beef, and finally it ground to a halt once Stevie noticed him again. The waiter's eyes bulged out of their sockets, and with good reason.

"Jesus H. Christ!" Jimbo exclaimed, utterly stunned. "He's... He's..." The man gulped, turning to his compatriot. "Cletus, he's bigger'n we are!" And he was right. Logan was ten feet and a little over one ton of absurdly hairy trucker god, with a beard down to his crotch and hair that flowed down both his front and back to tickle his feet. It all connected in various places, having grown in knots, so that head, beard, pits, and crotch were all united. The sweat-soaked, reeking mass monster stood tall and proud over the rest of the trucker daddies, both dicks and cunt leaking juices freely.

"Damn, boys!" Logan boomed, his voice deeper and filled with grin. "That was some damn fine 'courtesy'!" He licked his puffy lips, though no amount of self grooming would get his beard free of cum. He maneuvered around the bathroom over to Stevie and forced a kiss onto his creators, their bodies pressed tight in the narrow confines of the room. "M'boys," Logan growled into the kiss.

Jimbo came on the spot, spraying Logan with more thick daddy nut and latched onto one of the man's nipples. He nursed eagerly, like a starving man, wanting nothing more than to stay like this forever. Things had taken a turn for the better and he never wanted it to end. "Mmmph!" he moaned around the titanic coffee can-sized nip. Meanwhile, Stevie had dropped down behind Logan, parted his hair, and began rimming the god's fur-coated muscle ass with characteristic ferocity.

Logan felt a surge of pleasure and passion he'd never felt before. "Aww, fuck yeah!" A hand latched around Jimbo's head, holding him tightly and partially covering him in greasy, reeking pit hair. Before long his manly teat started to leak musky papa cum into Jimbo's mouth. This left Cletus to lunge for the other man tit and try for his fill. The two trucker dads gulped and struggled against Logan's huge chest. But sadly, it was then that the bell from the kitchen rung out. They had to go.

"Oh for-" Stevie began as the bell rang out again. He turned to the door and boomed, "KEEP YER FUCKIN' TITS ON, DOMINIC! DADDY'S COMIN'!" Looking back to Logan, he sighed. "Dad, I gotta go... Will ya maybe pass back through an' fuck me sometime?"

"Shit, y'know I will, champ," Logan grunted, his brain starting to warm back up, churning through everything that had happened before trying to reconnect with reality. What had he been doing? Logan seemed almost stunned as the memories of hitchhiking returned, not to mention that Eli had no doubt been waiting the entire time.

"Actually, couldja maybe come an' gimme a hand with those two?" Stevie asked. "Make 'em like us. Pair a' hot, hairy trucker dads. Mmm, shit, m'cunt's leakin' just thinkin' 'bout it!" True to his word, Steve's cunt was leaking juices to the floor and splattering all over the inside of his thighs. Logan reached down and ran his fingers between Stevie's legs, bringing the wet fingers up for a quick lick.

"Mmm! Now there's an idea, Stevie-boy! I'm sure we can make 'em... heh... more agreeable," Logan practically purred, gazing into Stevie's eyes. It was no longer fake bravado, it was true confidence. Stevie loved it, leaning up, lips and beard dripping with ass sweat and a bit of pre that had leaked out, and pressing a deep kiss to Logan's lips. His thick, broad tongue shoved into his new daddy's mouth and began to wrestle with its counterpart in a frenetic grapple performed alongside a cacophony of languid moans.

"Wha'bout us, pops?" Jimbo asked, looking up at Logan like a lost little boy. His irises had expanded and were sort of wobbling. A part of Logan's brain thought he looked alarmingly like an anime or manga character. It was funny, seeing the disparity between that resemblance and the immensity of the man it came from. Logan reached out and caressed Jimbo's fuzzy cheek.

"Jimmy-boy, Cletus, I know it's scary leavin' a place that feels s'damn comfortable, but ya got yer runs to do. Them big ol' trucks ain't gonna drive themselves, after all!" Logan laughed. "An' this place'll always be here t'come back to. Besides, who else can deliver these mighty daddy dongs across this great country a' ours, m'boy?" Logan asked with a grin and a hand on each of the two far older men's crotches. It seemed to do the trick, as Jimbo nodded, looking a bit forlorn, but understanding all the same.

"Yer right, Daddy," he rumbled, looking at Cletus. "We sure got ourselves a great ol' man, don't we, brother? Wise ol' fucker, too, given he ain't even 20."

"Wisest around, an' handsomest too!" Cletus agreed wholeheartedly. "Shit, we better go Jimbo, that way we can get back here sooner!" Cletus puffed up his chest in pride and Jimbo did the same, prompting both their nips to squirt jets of nipple cum right into Logan's soaked beard. Logan closed his eyes for a moment, simply enjoying the pleasure of being a father to these burly men. Oh, this was going to be a treat.

Jimbo and Cletus said their goodbyes, gave their creations deep, passionate smooches and healthy gropes, then left. Stevie waved them out and then looked to Logan with a bittersweet smile on his face. "I miss 'em already, Papa," he intoned, a bit sad but mostly wistful. He leaned against Logan's tremendous bulk as the bell rang out again. A snarl escaped his lips. "I'm gonna wring both a' them boys' necks!"

"We just gotta show 'em that dinner ain't served 'til Daddy says it's ready," Logan growled happily, reaching down to give Stevie's groin a quick grope. He moved for the door before pausing, realizing that as much as he liked being naked, it might not have passed health code for the restaurant. Stevie, on the other hand, strode out shamelessly, dicks bobbing ahead of him, leaking on the floor along with his cunt. He held the door open for Logan.

"No one gives a flyin' fuck 'bout yer birthday suit," he said with a smirk. "Well, not in a bad way, anyway." The waiter looked Logan up and down and gave a little growl of arousal. "C'mon before I jump yer bones again, gorgeous."

They headed out into the dining room. A brawny young man with brownish-red hair about the same color as Dean Venture's was clearing away the last of Jimbo and Cletus's dishes. He looked over at Stevie and Logan as they exited the bathroom. "Finally you decide to come out of there!" he exclaimed, walking over to the kitchen, cutting Stevie off and looking up at him - never mind the fact that twenty minutes before he'd been looking down at the waiter. "What were you doing in there? Fucking this twink?"

Stevie arched a brow and glanced up and back to Logan, who was now so far from the definition of "twink" that it was laughable. But Stevie, ever the trooper, contained his snickering and kept his poker face on. "Nah," he grunted, "I was cleaning up the mess those two fuck-off huge truckers left in there."

Hank had the good grace to look simultaneously sympathetic and somewhat mortified at the thought. "I don't even wanna imagine," he remarked, and ducked into the kitchen. "He's coming now, Dom! Don't ring that damn bell again or he might just shove it up your ass!"

A glance back to Eli showed him staring at Logan in bemusement as to why he was tailing the waiter. Stevie tilted his head toward the older man and said, "Might wanna deal with him. I'll fix those two. Don't worry, I got me an idea. See ya when I get the food out, alright Pops?"

"Y'all know where t'find me, m'love," Logan purred with a quick kiss on Stevie's lips before he headed back toward where he'd been seated. Getting down into the booth took quite a bit of effort and the table scooted almost all the way towards Eli, but Logan was determined to fit. With some man handling he hoisted his huge gut up onto the tabletop, letting it drop down and spread out with an audible thunk. "Ahhh, much better!" he groaned. Without clothes it was as if Logan's huge, stretched navel was on display. It glistened beneath the artificial lights with a natural lubrication that hinted at just how sensitive it had become. At last he had reclaimed his seat.

"Hey, did you happen to meet those two huge guys who came out of the restroom before you two?" Eli asked. He didn't seem to notice that he was now craning his neck all the way up and leaning back quite a ways just to get some semblance of face-to-face discussion with the newly-minted trucker dad. To his perception at least, Logan was still a punkish twink with a sweet smile and blue-frosted hair as opposed to his now all-pervading mahogany locks. "They were immense! Would have dwarfed us two skinny blondes, no contest!"

"Hah, I saw 'em alright," Logan replied. "I saw 'em real good. But one way or another I figured out a way around that bathroom. Y'all were right though, 'bout them noises," Logan chuckled. Eli looked a bit surprised.

"Investigation was necessary, huh?" he laughed. Logan nodded with a feral grin. "Cool! Way to go, junior detective! You'll have to tell me all about it when the food comes!" He playfully patted Logan's bellybutton, unaware of the pleasure now surging through the younger man's entire body. Logan shivered in excitement and gave a little moan before reaffixing his grin.

"Yeah, turns out this place has a whole helluva lot t'offer. Thanks again fer bringing me, kiddo," Logan replied with a heft in his voice.

"Hey great!" the blonde replied, seemingly unfazed by the pet name that, to his perception, Logan would have no business calling him. "I'm happy for you, Logan! And it was no problem, I'm only too happy to help." After a moment, Stevie arrived with their food, setting the burger in front of Eli and the stir-fry on Logan's immense ball gut, where it sat perfectly. "Hey, grub's up! Thanks, Stevie!"

"Yer welcome, pup!" the waiter growled without even looking at him. He was far too preoccupied eye-fucking Logan. "If y'all need anything else, y'give me a holler, y'hear?"

"Will do," Eli responded before Logan could make a lewd quip. As he tucked into his food, his phone began to buzz, playing Steely Dan's "Do It Again". Pulling it up, he gave a low noise of concern from the back of his throat. "Ah, that's my buddy George in Boca. I'll be right back - it'll be serious if he's calling at this hour." And with that, he leaped up from the booth and trotted outside. "Hey, man, what's up?"

Stevie took the chance to lean up and plant a deep smooch on Logan, moaning deeply. "Dom an' Hank are all squared away. I sent 'em home fer the night, too. Can we talk, Dad?" Logan grinned at that, patting the sagging bench seat next to him.

"By all means, pup... If the cooks are gone, I better make this meal last!" Logan chuckled, gazing down into Stevie's eyes.

"I could make ya anythin' y'want," Stevie replied with a grin, staring back up into Logan's eyes. "I'd do anythin' fer ya. Anythin' t'be with ya. Which leads me the thing I wanted to talk t'ya 'bout..." The waiter paused before reaching out to embrace his new dad, leaning into him while maintaining eye contact. "Wouldja mind if I tagged along with you an' blondie out there, Pops? I can write up an 'I quit' on a napkin an' we can run off together. Father an' son."

"I'd really like that, pup. I mean it ain't m'ride t'give, but Eli seems t'be pretty good folk," Logan murmured. "S'long as he's good with it, I can't think a' nothin' better."

"Fuck yeah!" Stevie whooped, leaning up to kiss Logan firmly. "I love ya, Daddy. More'n anythin'."

"And I love ya too, m'sweetie boy," Logan rumbled, returning a deep lip locked kiss with tangled tongues before finally breaking the embrace, glancing around for Eli. He wondered idly what sort of phone call could disrupt the travel vacation of his benefactor.

Stevie broke off from Logan and trotted back to the kitchen. "Hah, gonna leave m'bosses a present," he explained - and that required no elaboration as they both understood all too well what he meant, "then I'm gonna write my 'take this job an' shove it' note! Be back in ten minutes, Papa!" And he disappeared into the back.

Eli returned about three minutes later. Plopping down into the seat, he looked back up at Logan before looking back down and rubbing his neck. "Feels like I've been craning this thing a lot lately," he muttered, "but how can I have? You're shorter than me!" He laughed. "Rob's fine. Just drunk dialing his contacts. You can take the boy out of the party, but you can't... well, you get the cliché, I'm sure. You're a bright kid."

"Bright, maybe, but also a bit needy..." Logan hesitated. "Son. Eli... y'already been s'damn kind an' generous, but the waiter, Stevie... y'see, he ain't gonna to be employed here after tonight an' doesn't wanna get washed up without a paddle. I was wonderin' if y'all had room fer one more stray?" Logan asked, looking into Eli's eyes. "I'd consider it a personal favor, pup."

"Well... it'd be a bit of a stretch on funds, but one more wouldn't hurt too much!" Eli replied after a pause. "He's welcome to come with us, sure. I can't let him live out on the road. It isn't right."

"Y'really are the best. Yer heart's so big. That's really an attractive trait!" Logan said, gazing into Eli's eyes, appreciating the wisdom the man had gained over the years. Wisdom that he realized he now surpassed. "I'm glad I metcha, sweetie boy."

Eli chuckled. "You flatter me! Hahah, and be careful, you're practically coming onto me," he warned in jest. "Now, c'mon, let's eat. At this rate we'll have to hang out here for the night." Looking down at his burger and onion rings, he stopped. It was a mountain of food, really. Onion rings stacked high on the plate and a triple-pattied burger that took up half the plate, covered in cheese, bacon, and all the fixings. A single bite was missing. "Y'know, I'm suddenly not that hungry. You want mine?"

"Fuck yeah! I knew ya'd pick the better meal when we first ordered!" Logan laughed, pulling the plate over. He picked up a ring and felt the hot grease on his fingers, savoring the smell of the rich batter and the zesty onion before he popped it into his mouth. The food practically melted on his tongue, but soon his teeth were chomping through it all, turning it into a fine mush. With a gulp it was gone and replaced by another, then two, then three. Logan made no attempt to mask the primal nature of his mastication. He chowed down on it all, letting it drift down his throat before settling in his rather prodigious stomach. When the rings were depleted, the trucker daddy went for larger fare, biting into it like a beast. The stir-fry never stood a chance.

Eli raised a finger and opened his mouth as if to speak, but said nothing as Logan devastated the food in front of him, not missing a single bite. He didn't notice as Logan's gut began to swell out further, his hair growing longer and his pecs more bloated with thick beef. His hoss dongs, which had gone limp under the table, snaked out longer and popped a few more veins up as they did. As he made the stir-fry a distant memory, Logan's features shifted, eyes transitioning to an almond shape, nose sharpening as his face rounded and cheeks pushed up and filled out more. By the time he was done licking the last vestiges from the plate, Logan looked decidedly Asian, though there were certain mongolian traits that blended nicely with his beard.

A mighty, room-shaking belch left Logan's lips as he punctuated the end of his meal before leaning back. The table was practically tipped down under the weight of his massive belly. Without being able to see below the waist, it was clear Logan had taken on a very different set of traits. He wouldn't have looked out of place in a sumo circle, battling against other large and talented men.

"My!" Eli remarked in astonishment, having found his voice. "Someone was hungry!"

It was then that Stevie returned, catching sight of Logan. The ex-waiter's eyes lit up and he resisted the urge to jump his daddy's bones then and there. Not in front of the twerp. "Feel free t'smash them plates," he drawled. "Cheapskate owner deserves it. So, we headed out, then?"

"Yeah, but we gotta shack up fer the night here before we head out. Eli here's gold on us goin' together though, I could show ya 'round the place, if yer willin'," Logan grinned. There was something about his smile that seemed even more infectious now that he had been blessed by eastern influences. Stevie returned it.

"Sure thing," he drawled, "lead the way!"

Eli watched them go, telling them he'd be along in a second. He wanted to inspect the pies in the counter display. Stevie told him to just take what he wanted, but the older man insisted he ought to pay. Rolling his eyes, the trucker dad caught up with his old man.

"Fucker's a goodie-two-shoes," he commented, leaning against Logan as they waddled to the RV, hand firmly attached to his dad's hairy ass. "We oughta change that..." The mischievous glint in his eye said it all.

"We gotta be careful, we make him too much of a jerk he'll leave us behind fer someone hotter," Logan warned, groping Stevie's ass as they walked. The cool night air was oddly refreshing on Logan's rotund body. He inhaled his own scent blown back at him, rumbling happily.

"What, can ya control how y'change folks now or somethin'?" Stevie asked, looking up into Logan's eyes, part smartass and part genuinely curious. Logan was taller than the RV now, and as they'd stopped to lean against it, it was on the verge of tipping over, but thankfully didn't. Their guts rubbed together languidly in the red glow and pale moonlight. They both tried to ignore the overwhelming pleasure of their navels rubbing each other. Breaking down into messy navel-fucking wouldn't exactly win Eli over. Not yet, anyway. Stevie spoke up again. "Seriously, Papa, can ya?"

"I dunno... But I'll tell ya this, m'boy, I don't think I can hold back from yer sexy bod much longer," the hot trucker daddy growled, taking a hold of Stevie's shorter beard, leading him into the RV. It was a tight fit, but something about that made it even sexier. The two barely made it inside before Logan's lips were on Stevie's, the two stumbling toward the back of the RV. Fingers groped flesh, cocks slapped together, and lips locked. The two were powerhouses when it came to sex.

With careful maneuvering, Stevie's deep navel suddenly felt an unexpected visitor as one of Logan's hefty monster cocks plunged in, sliding deeper, surrounded by the welcoming embrace of a musclegut. Stevie bellowed as he was filled with unbridled pleasure... and meaty, swollen dadcock. He felt it hit the hole that formed at the navel and press inside, into the new cum chamber in his gut. "D-Daddy...!" he whimpered huskily as Logan pressed him back against the wall, inadvertently maneuvering him over the hamper. Without a lid to be seen, the trucker daddy's ass and cunt were leaking cum and juices freely into it, while Logan's other hoss cock was sandwiched underneath Stevie's bloated thigh and drooling pre lazily. Stevie's own two horse dongs were pushed up Logan's navel and approaching his hole. "Fill me, p-please!"

Logan didn't need to be asked twice. With the monster cock duo he had, it wasn't hard to guide the spare up and start coming into Stevie's man pussy at a steep angle. While it was a bit awkward at first, the friction was most palpable. Logan tried giving a few languid thrusts, fucking both his cunt and his navel at the same time. The strain of the angle was intense, but that only added a bit of fuel to the fire. Logan moaned deeply, kissing his son as they went at it. Before long the RV was rocking back and forth under the immense weight of the two.

Finally, with a hitched groan, Stevie came deep into Logan's musclegut with his dicks and hard into the hamper with his ass and cunt. His nipples splattered baby batter all over Logan's upper torso, beard, and face. And a muffled squelch and a sticky warmth around Logan's dicks announced his navel's orgasm. Panting, he waited for Logan to cum.

Nestled deep inside the core of Logan's brain that retained some semblance of his former self, he realized the potential to inflict a catastrophic mess on the RV as his orgasm came. Sure, he could unleash inside of Stevie and have some of it contained, but there was little chance to avoid ruining Eli's bed. Logan groaned sharply, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he realized that the only safe place for his seed was the one spot already contaminated. With great care, Logan maneuvered Stevie a step away before he lunged for the hamper himself.

Two immense hoss cocks dipped down into the vessel before Logan all but squatted atop it, holding the white basket between his legs. He let out a long, deep groan as his dicks gushed forth with thick semen and soon his man pussy was dripping a shower of cum all over the clothes inside. Logan braced one hand against the wall of the RV, panting as his orgasm just kept hitting wave after wave.

He managed to hold it after a couple volleys and turned to Stevie in a daze. His eyes had rolled back, but the sheer concentration needed just to hold his building orgasm back had caused him to go cross-eyed. Grabbing near-blindly for Stevie, he finally got hold of him on the fourth try and all-but dragged the other, quite stunned, daddy out into the parking lot. Stevie soon found himself pressed up against the much larger adjacent big rig on the opposite side from the RV. One cock in his ball belly, the other jammed up into his ass, and Logan's lips pressed powerfully against his own. And then Logan unloaded. A thick volley shot into him, and then another half a second later, then another and another. Fifteen volleys of cum, twenty in total including the ballbatter relieved into the hamper. Logan groaned as Stevie swelled, matching him in size.

They looked at each other with the utmost adoration and devotion, locked in coitus and panting like dogs on the hottest day of the year. "Hey, Daddy," Logan rumbled with a grin. Stevie laughed, a sound not unlike thunder.

"Hey, Daddy yerself, gorgeous," he purred back. "Hahah, someone made a mess." Chuckling, he nodded back to the ass and cunt cum splattering the tarmac behind Logan. His hand moved down, brushing the hair away to scoop the caught cum from between Logan's giant bubble buttcheeks. Bringing it back up, he slurped it from his fingers slowly and deliberately. "Mmm, m'big virile Papa. M'dearest love. Ya complete me, Logan. I can't believe I didn't know ya 45 minutes ago. It's jus'... fuckin' unthinkable, s'what it is!" He held Logan closer, bringing him in for another desperate, yet paradoxically languid smooch.

Logan returned it sloppily, basking in the scent and presence of such a delightful chub cub. He loved Stevie in ways words couldn't express. He ground against whatever he could, barely able to contain himself. Stevie kept smooching his lover deeply, groping at him and teasing his swollen form. "I actually don't live too far from here," he commented. "Wanna 'scuse ourselves to run an' grab some shit from my place an'... fool around?"

"It'd be great t'stretch out, if y'know what I mean!" Logan chuckled, giving Stevie one more kiss.

Stevie chuckled back. "I know whatcha mean, an' man do I fuckin' want it, gorgeous."

Eli walked up then, carrying a French cream pie. He looked them up and down as they stood in intimate embrace. "Uh, am I interrupting something?" he asked with a grin. The smaller man evidently still saw them as no different.

With a grin to Logan, Stevie snickered back, "Nah, son. Jus' two trucker daddies gettin' t'know one another."

Eli chuckled, shaking his head. "I swear, you kids and your slang. I'm gonna head inside. You two take your time now."

"Actually, we're gonna go grab some a' Stevie's stuff before we hit the road, make sure we have everythin' we need fer the trip. Don't wait up, boy," Logan drawled, still feeling traces of a deep-seated reverence for the man that had brought him to such an interesting place in his life.

"Well, alright then. It's not too far, is it?" Eli asked, a little concerned.

"Nah! Jus' down the road a lil' ways!" Stevie drawled amiably. "Y'all go get some rest now. We'll be back before y'know it!"

Shrugging, Eli agreed, and walked off to the RV, quite unconcerned. Stevie turned back to Logan and brought him in for another deep, passionate kiss. "Ready for a twenty mile run, m'love?" he inquired with a big grin, gripping and tweaking his fellow dad's giant nips.

"Twenty miles? A little jog like that ain't shit," Logan chuckled, groping Stevie's chest, "I'm not gonna let a lil' upstart beat me t'any goal." A cocky grin crossed his face, barely discernable underneath his immense beard.

"Bring it on, ol' man!" Stevie hollered, before charging off. Logan moved after him, almost surprising himself. Despite his massive weight, despite the impact of his feet against the parched pavement, they were both making good speed. It was as if beneath their hulking exterior was a frame built for performance. The fat they had was matched with muscle, coming together into an amazing hybrid. As they ran, Logan was also more aware of the man pussy between his legs, feeling it jostle and rub. Something about that exhilarated him and he ran even faster.

Back at the RV, Eli walked inside and immediately gagged. The rank scent of sweat and cum was heavy in the air - so much so that it almost felt tangible as Eli headed inside to find the source. "What the fuck?" he swore in confusion, holding a hand over his mouth. "Where is that coming from!?"

Searching high and low, Eli scoured the RV for the source of the musk. The main room was clear - spotless, even. The bathrooms needed a bit of polishing, but were otherwise clean. The back bedroom seemed very dank, but even there his efforts bore no fruit. His perception seemed to ignore the hamper altogether. In the end, try as he might, Eli came up empty-handed, much to his frustration. Finally, he was able to tolerate the thick, muggy stench and soon settled into bed.

As it was unusually hot in the motorhome that evening, the older blonde stripped naked, revealing his body. To his surprise, he noted he had some definition. Indeed, pecs and a four-pack of abs were cleanly delineated on his torso, and his biceps stood out a little from his arms. His thighs seemed to be growing together, while his calves were developing big fat alligator teardrops.

"Lookin' good!" he praised his reflection, giving a little "sexy" growl and popping a few poses. "Ha, looks like that P90X DVD wasn't a waste of money after all!"

Satisfied after flexing a little more, Eli dropped onto the bed and snuggled in under the covers. He hoped Logan and Stevie wouldn't be too noisy when they returned. After a little while, he dozed off. Eli's slumber was surrounded by the creature comforts the RV offered, but there was another layer to it all. Just a few feet from the driver's head, his personal hamper harbored a most inhuman load. The rich, potent, feral semen from two behemoth daddies had congealed and mixed, saturating and steeping into a heady soup. It smelled of musk, sweat, sex, and primal power. It was that smell that was saturating the RV and entering Eli's lungs breath after breath. It was practically marinating him in the hot humidity of the beastly men.

As Eli slept, his shoulders broadened considerably, exploding in size and becoming cannonballs. His arms were easily 48" around unflexed, riddled with veins, and coated in thick blonde hair, accented by his newly-tanned skin. The blankets slowly inched up as his chest rose like two enormous loaves of bread, followed by his abs. But the cobblestone twelve-pack was soon obscured by a giant, swollen musclegut, sloshing loudly with cum. Hair coated the man with ludicrous density, and if seen from afar, Eli might now be mistaken for a hot roided-out bodybuilding Bigfoot. But he was no missing link, nor a bastardized Native American legend. No, he was a trucker daddy, and even in his sleep, he smiled through the thick beard he now possessed.

His second cock, hossed out like its twin, jutted up, curving under and hugging up against the underside of the beastly musclegut. His body weight pressing against them, the pressure and the friction, it all served to intensify his erections even further. Both stood tall and proud otherwise, tenting the covers obscenely - and soon, they were holding them aloft. Eli was much too big for them or the bed anymore. It'd be a miracle if he could extricate himself from the room now, really, but that was a problem for a different time.

"Nnngh, fuck," he grumbled in his sleep. "S'damn horny. Gotta... gotta cum. Gotta blow." And the blonde trucker dad gripped both of his horse dongs in one hand, effectively using the covers as a loose makeshift condom, and began to jerk himself off. As he did so, his cunt split open behind his balls, splattering the walls and floor at the foot of the bed, plus Eli's balls and thighs, with gooey, reeking cunt juices and cunt cum. His other hand found its way down to his new man cave and began to finger himself. If anyone had been within a mile or so, they'd have heard the sleeping behemoth's booming groans of unbridled pleasure as he had the best masturbation session of his life.

The soup that had reforged the trucker daddy had been impressive, but the juices pouring from his horse cocks and his man cunt were fresh and potent. The smell intensified until the windows were steaming over. All Eli could smell was man, musk, and sex. It was heaven, a new kind of heaven and it came from his exquisite body.

With each skillful stroke, Eli could feel the pressure mounting inside him. His horse meat throbbed and pulsed with his heartbeat. The veins practically vibrated against his thick, meaty, masculine hands. As tantalizing as his dicks were, though, his pussy was calling to him. As his fingers plunged into that wet, pink depth he felt such a primal fulfillment. A gaping hole in his soul was being filled as he practically fisted himself.

The wet, squelching noises grew ever more intense with his heightening urgency. Eli grunted and panted, fists going at it. He traded back and forth between his two cocks, unable to master timing. All he knew was that he had to fuck, to be fucked, to spread his joy to others. Eli's back arched and the pressure was too much for the bed. There was a groan, a thump, and then Eli crashed down two feet. The bed was in shambles but he kept going. His fists were blurs, his broken mattress soaked with juices, but none of it compared to what was coming. It was like a monsoon flood about to blast through a levee.

And then it happened. Eli finally achieved orgasm, and what an orgasm it was. Cum exploded from every orifice Eli had below the neck with enough force to dent the ceilings and smash through the interior walls. His dicks, his cunt, his navel, his ass, and his nips all gushed gallon upon gallon of thick, gooey, and utterly musky daddycum. It flooded the RV, creeping into every nook and cranny, ruining everything it touched - not that there was anyone left to care about that.

Eli's nips soon extended, pushing out from their coffee can-sized state into longer forms. They slowly grew erect, and developed distinctive equine heads and medial rings, the skin dappling along with the other changes. They came even harder now, pumping out further gallons of perfect cum. Finally, at sunrise, the orgasm began to taper off, slowly ending as the sun rose further into the azure sky. Finally, Eli awoke with a grin and a deep, rumbling yawn, neck deep in sticky, off-white semen.

"Well, fuck me!" he thundered gaily, beaming at his massive new form. "I'm a goddamn stud!" As he pondered how to get out of the motorhome, a thought occurred to him, and reality clicked. Logan and Stevie were behemoth trucker dads just like he was! He moaned in pleasure at the memories, and came again. "I need t'find 'em," he rumbled. "Find 'em an' fuck 'em. Hard!"