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Matt turned from side to side, staring at himself in the closet mirror. Okay, yes, he was still embarrassingly scrawny, but his chest now had a slight roundness to it, the lines of his pecs defining them up to visible caps of muscle across his shoulders. He curled his arm into a tentative bicep - making sure Stetson had left the room, as flexing always embarrassed him - and was gratified to see wiry cords thicken and rise on his arm. He looked lean still, but in a hardened way, like an endurance runner.

He held his breath in his chest, not sure he believed what he was seeing. It had to be what happened in the GNC yesterday. But that was crazy. Granted, he'd swallowed a lot of different stuff, but it was all junk. It was just wishful thinking. Maybe, in fact, he just had been making progress all along, and had been just too down on himself to see it. He thought for a moment. Wellbutrin was an antidepressant. Maybe he was like anorexics, who no matter how thin they get, always look fat to themselves in the mirror... but instead of looking fat to himself, he just looked small and scrawny, and maybe the antidepressant was helping him to see past all that. Yeah, that had to be it. There are no magic potions, no quick fixes. To get big, it takes hard work, and that's what he'd been doing at the gym for a year now. Hard work, and it was paying off.

Matt felt his tongue loll slightly from his muzzle. Seeing the change in himself was starting to get him excited. He felt his cock sliding up from his sheath again, slowly becoming erect. He looked down at it in the mirror; even it looked bigger than before. Like maybe as much as half an inch bigger. That had to be his imagination. No exercise in the world could make your dick grow. But, he thought, the medicine was making his erections harder, so it stood to reason they'd be bigger, too.

He licked his lips, trying to keep from getting more aroused. A drop of wetness appeared at his tip, pointing right up at his nose. He could smell a faint odor, bestial and kind of salty somehow. Trying to push the thoughts out of his mind was strangely difficult, but he was sure his balls would ache if he tried to cum a third time in less than twelve hours. That was just nuts. He forced himself to think about unstimulating things, like what he was going to have to do at work in two days. His schedule there was both full and expressly boring, the work tedious and frustrating. He hated working with the people and came home tired and--yeah, that did it. Good and soft. He tucked the hole in the front of his boxer-briefs closed again and got dressed.

Stetson was making an omelette when Matt came out to the kitchen in a sleeveless tee and gym shorts. He cocked an ear and looked over. "Hey, hon. Off to the gym today?"

Matt felt his stomach growl. "Yeah, gonna do chest and biceps today." He came up behind the rabbit and put his hands on the other's waist. "You gonna make one of those for me?"

"That's what this is. Just the way you like it."

Matt sniffed. "God, I'm hungry. Could you make it twice as big?"

"You? Hungry?" Stetson chuckled. "Must be a blue moon. Still, I guess you did work up an appetite this morning, huh?"

The otter felt himself flush under his fur. "Not like it took very long."

"It was a pleasant surprise all the same." Stetson flicked his tail, and Matt gasped a little, feeling it brush against his belly, his sheath growing thick again in his shorts. What the hell was wrong with him? This stuff just worked too well. The fabric felt good against his tip as it poked up from his sheath.

"Ungh," he said out loud, and stepped away, grabbing the elastic ties for his shorts and pulling them tight. The swelling feeling receded.

"Hmm?" Stetson asked, turning partway around.

"I said, um," Matt said. "I woke up in the middle of the night last night too, and had to... relieve myself."

A grin quirked the corner of the rabbit's muzzle. "Really? I thought that was what you were doin' in there, but I was mostly asleep. Wow, I'm really glad to know this prescription is workin' for you. Might want to take it a bit easy, though. Maybe cut your dosage in half, eh? Don't wanna overdo it so soon."

Matt looked the rabbit up and down again, thinking of the nicely-muscled, furry frame under those clothes. He cinched his waistband tighter. "Even if I could take you three or four times a day?" he asked.

"Th..." Stetson turned around, holding the frying pan in one paw. "Three or four times a day? Seriously?"

Matt leaned up on the table, bracing both paws. "I feel like I could go again. How about you?"

The rabbit paused, slowly setting down the frying pan on the stove. "You really mean it?"

The otter opened the knot on his waistband and groaned in relief as his shaft slid into freedom. "What do you think?" He dropped the shorts to the floor. His shirt hung baggily on him, but the bottom hem hooked above his jutting erection, pink against the white of his t-shirt.

Stetson gaped for about two seconds in surprise, then pulled his own shirt up over his head, exposing a thick, white-furred chest and a visible sixpack. His thick finger fumbled at his jeans, undoing the clasp. "I don't know where you found this new Matt," he breathed huskily, "but I like him." He lifted his broad, lapine paws out of the fallen jeans, his own erection rising with his heartbeat.

Matt turned around and grabbed the plates on the table, setting them on the chair. "I'll do you over this," he said, and his sudden directness surprised him.

"Lube," said the rabbit, nodding eagerly. "We need lube."

Matt scanned the cooking supplies on the counter. "Butter," he said. "Grab the butter.

Stetson's eyes widened, but then he turned around and grabbed the half-stick of butter in one paw. He was at Matt's side in about two seconds, and took the otter's cock into the other paw. Matt cried out at the sudden stimulation, his shaft jerking, feeling as if he was about to release immediately, but instead, a few drops of pre slid down onto the rabbit's paw.

The rabbit leaned in close, letting his breath tickle Matt's whiskers, his chest rising and falling heavily. "You keep that up, hon, soon we won't be needing lube," he whispered, and then he pressed the cool stick of butter to Matt's hot flesh. Matt shuddered and leaned forward, his paws on Stetson's shoulders. The butter melted faster than he expected as his mate rubbed it around and around, quickly slickening it. He patted the otter's chest with his clean hand. "Okay, that should do it."

Matt stepped back, feeling almost possessed with lust as he watched his boyfriend lean across the kitchen table, muscled legs spread, rump bared, tail lifted. He'd never felt this aggressive, this sexual, this masculine before. Melted butter and pre dripped from his tip onto the floor and as he stepped forward, he felt it, slippery under his webbed toes. Putting a paw on each of Stetson's hips, he placed his tip firmly against the puckered flesh. Under his fingers, the rabbit went tense. The urgency of mating was consuming him, he could barely hold back enough to be gentle, his cock pushing steadily into his mate's ass. Stetson moaned low, and Matt matched him with a soft growl. The intensity was incredible. Squeezed tightly all around, his cock sent steady waves of pleasure rolling up his body. He gave one last little push and then shuddered, chest resting against Stetson's muscled back, his hips pressed firmly to the rabbit's rounded cheeks. "Oh god..." he groaned.

He breathed in deep, smelling the mix of omelette and butter and the musky scent from before. Looking down, he watched the pink flesh slide halfway from that rump, and then he drove forward again, burying into his mate once more. His cock flexed involuntarily, and there was a knocking sound, and Stetson cried out. Matt pulled back, gave another thrust, and again came that sound from the table and the rabbit gave another little "Ah."

Concerned, but too driven to stop, Matt rocked into his rabbit, and the knocking sound continued. "You okay?" he grunted, still thrusting.

"Ah... hah..." Stetson groaned. His fingers clung hard to the far side of the table. "Cock... hitting... underside... of table..."

Shit that's hot, was all Matt had time to think, and then he came, his sac rising up as he slumped across Stetson, buried as deep as he could get. His teeth clenched. He felt himself unload again and again. Climaxes never lasted this long when jerking off. Maybe there was something to this sex thing after all! Once again he got that strong surge of pleasure through his whole body. Every muscle tensed hard, his legs pushing. Stetson cried out as the table skidded across the floor, making a grinding noise. For what felt like a full minute, Matt came, his fingers gripping tightly at the rabbit's sides, and then he felt the rabbit somehow seem to squeeze around him, getting a little tighter, his cock sinking just a little farther into him than before.

He panted heavily into the white fur, making it damp, as he slowly pulled back. "Oh, bunny," he managed. "How did you do that?"

Stetson arched his back as the otter pulled out of him. In his eyes there was an expression of admiration. "How did you?" he asked.

* * *

Matt was glad that the urges had waned after that screw on the table; it would be no good going to a gym filled with hugely built guys if he was going to be that easily aroused the entire time. After cleaning butter off a very sensitive bit of flesh in the shower, he'd had not two but three of the omelettes before he felt full. It was true: sex did give you an appetite.

Entering the gym, he felt comfortably full, and surprisingly, his balls weren't sore at all after the three climaxes in one day, though they did seem a bit swollen, his underwear hugging more tightly around them than he was used to. Being a Saturday, the gym was mostly empty, so he'd have the run of the place to himself. He signed in and headed for the dumbbells, figuring he'd start with biceps and then move to chest exercises. There were maybe three other guys in that area, all bigger than him, and two of them downright huge. He wasn't feeling particularly aroused, but he looked away just in case. If he set himself going here, there's no way to know what he'd do. He focused on the crappy music they were blasting; club mixes and variations on the Top 40. That'd take your boner away.

He grabbed his normal pair of twenty pound weights and started curling them, watching his shoulders lift under the t-shirt. They were oddly light, feeling more like tens. He frowned and set them back in the rack, moving up to twenty-fives. That felt more like what he was used to lifting, but he'd been stuck using the twenties for six months now. Finally some improvement? Again the thought of what he'd swallowed at the GNC occurred to him, and he dismissed it. Nonsense. It was just hard work.

He finished two sets, feeling a pleasant, hard pump in his biceps, and looked at the thirties. Why not give them a try? The thirties were properly heavy; he could feel them tugging at his traps as he hefted them. No way could he curl these, but it was worth putting the effort into it anyway. He clenched his teeth, straining, feeling the muscle knot up in his arms, and then he managed a full rep. Releasing slowly he went for another, and then another. Four times he managed to curl a pair of thirty-pound dumbbells before his arms gave out, and just a week ago, twenties had felt like nearly too much.

He was stronger. He moved on to his other arm lifts, and found the same results. In each, he was able to lift around ten to twenty pounds more than last week. He felt himself start to get aroused at the thought. Bigger, stronger, more sexual. NO!

He shook his head, trying to keep his mind from going there, but it was so difficult. Best to distract it with more exercise. Chest work was next, and that always started out with the bench press. Normally he just pressed the bar, a cool forty-five pounds, on good days with a five plate thrown on each side. But he was feeling pretty good about it today. He put twenty-five pounds on each side.

Lying down on the bench press, he stared up at the bar. Ninety pounds, twice what he was lifting before. This was stupid. It was a huge jump in weight, and he had no spotter. He could hurt himself. He curled his fingers around the bar. He felt confident, strong. He could do this. He pushed hard, and the bar budged, then lifted up out of its stirrups. He gaped in surprise, and then felt his right triceps shudder, then his left, and he barely managed to push the bar forward enough as it fell to keep it from landing across his neck. It impacted across his chest painfully, sliding slightly to one side. Okay. Too much weight. Now what to do? How to get off the bench?

He pressed his thick tail against the floor for balance, gripped the bar, and pushed as hard as he could. At first it didn't budge, then slowly it rose, his arms shaking as he lifted it higher, and then all the way up above him. He slammed it back into the stirrups and then let his arms fall, gasping with relief.

It didn't last long. He felt something pushing against his waistband, and groaned. The confirmation of his strength as he'd pushed those ninety pounds up had also made his cock slide out from his sheath again, and this time it had pushed up beyond the top of his shorts to nestle against his belly, beneath his t-shirt. Suddenly realizing he'd have a very odd tent going on if he lay there, he sat up quickly. Shit. To the bathroom. He stood up, hunching over a bit so his erection wouldn't show, and headed for the bathroom.

"Hey buddy," a voice said.

He looked around, keeping turned away. A large, incredibly well-built husky was standing behind him, wearing a stringer tee that seemed like it was about to burst apart by bulging traps and a huge chest. Obviously a pro bodybuilder. Matt felt the heat rise to his ears. "Yeah?"

"You comin' back, or you want to rerack those weights?"

Matt's cock strained, and he realized with sudden horror that he could actually smell it even through his t-shirt. "Sorry!" he said. "I gotta go right now."

Staying hunched, he headed for the locker rooms and didn't look back.

Thankfully, the locker rooms were empty, and so were the showers. The room smelled

sharp and pungent and sweaty. SEX, thought Matt's brain. No! he told it. A cold shower would help.

Matt never showered at the gym. He couldn't stand the idea of being naked around others, and was generally shy to begin with. Up until today, he hadn't been worried about giving himself away by popping a boner in front of the other showering guys; the interest just hadn't been there, but he just didn't feel comfortable undressing and showering with others. Today, though, he didn't hesitate, though granted, the showers were empty. As quickly as he could he pulled off his shirt and shorts.

His cock was hard and throbbing, and it looked even bigger than he remembered it. He put his thumb on the tip and felt it go warm and slick. MATE, his brain said.

"No," he said out loud, and turned on the cold water. That scent was getting stronger in the room, and the water in the air seemed to make it spread. Shuddering at the cold, he stepped into the spray, feeling the droplets soak his fur, run in rivulets down his chest and legs, and spatter against the hard flesh of his erection. It wasn't going down. He put his paws against the shower wall, facing into the shower, trying to force the lust out of his mind. "No," he said again, louder. The cold water was starting to feel good.

"No?" said a voice. "You all right?"

Matt turned around. The husky stood there, completely naked, and without his clothes obviously far bigger and better shaped than Matt had thought before. Matt looked down at his erection, ashamed, but then his eyes crept back up to the well-formed lines of the husky. He stood, staring, in the cold water, pink cock framed against the white fur of his groin. "It won't go away," he said apologetically.

The husky snorted, looking down. "Sometimes happens when you're lifting, kid. Don't worry about it. Happens to the best of us." He sniffed the air. "What is that?"

He looked back at Matt, sniffing again.

Matt looked down slightly. The husky's sheath was filling, a bright red tip appearing at the end and slowly sliding upward. The otter caught his breath, stepping forward, toward the dog, out of the cold water. He looked down at his erection, then looked over at the husky's.

"Uh..." the dog said. His tail was still, ears alert. He sniffed the air again, then came toward Matt, sniffing. He went down to his knees and sniffed another time. Pre bubbled up from the end of the otter's cock. He leaned closer. Matt could feel his breath on his skin.

"You don't understand," the husky murmured. "I'm not gay."

"That's okay," Matt said. "I am."