Poor Superman Was Hit By One Of Lex Luthors Shrink Rays But It Only Hit His Head.

Poor Superman was hit by one of Lex Luthor’s shrink rays… but it only hit his head.

Happy Birthday Tyler Hoechlin!

September 11th— Actor Tyler Hoechlin’s birthday!

The hunky actor sauntered about his house, dressed up in his new suit so that he could go attend a birthday function that his management was making him go to. Tyler huffed a little bit as he adjusted his tie, gazing at the form-fitting suit that made him look akin to 007, oozing masculine sex appeal. He’d even let his stubble grow out to complete his manly look which would be sure to get him tons of attention and interviews where he’d have the opportunity to promote his projects.

Tyler yawned loudly, already tired at the night’s events. Of course he loved being a world famous actor with scores of adoring fans. However, he was sort of just wanting to relax at home for his birthday, lounging out on the couch to just watch some TV and play video games. Maybe he’d invite Dylan O’Brien over; his old costar from Teen Wolf was in the area, filming some new movie. The two of them had said that they’d connect sometime, but with their busy schedules, they haven’t had the chance to yet.

“Alright,” Tyler sighed as he checked the Rolex on his thick wrist, “time for a long night.” He sighed again, his broad shoulders rising and falling with the motion, making his tight suit which was designed to show off his impressive musculature, shift too. 

As he walked towards the front door, he paused when he saw a pastel pink box sitting on the counter.

The stud cocked a confused eyebrow and walked over to it, examining the unmarked box. He flipped open the lid and saw that it was a simple, chocolate frosted cake with pink writing that spelt out in curvy letters: Happy Birthday Tyler!

Tyler couldn’t help the smile that stretched out his handsome face, genuinely touched at the kind gesture. There wasn’t a card or note to let him know who had gifted him the birthday cake, but he guessed that it was probably his new assistant who was still really nice and hadn’t been jaded by Hollywood yet.

The mouthwatering aroma of cocoa reached the man’s nostrils, and Tyler’s stomach gurgled with want as he stared at the delectable dessert.

“Damn,” he muttered, desperately wanting to have a quick slice, but with the party/advertisement in a few minutes, he couldn’t afford to eat any carbs that would disrupt his chiseled physique in his custom tailored suit.

Still, a little frosting wouldn’t hurt.

Tyler swiped up some chocolate frosting on his finger, popping it into his mouth with a deep moan.

“Mmmm!” Tyler moaned at the sweet, sugary taste of the frosting as he eagerly sucked his finger clean, leaving no trace behind. His tastebuds were alight with craving want, and his stomach growled loudly, demanding another taste.

Before manifesting the thought, Tyler felt his hand move down to the cake again, swiping up a much larger dollop of frosting this time, and greedily shoving it into his mouth. The sugary taste of the frosting was so delicious and all-consuming that it was all Tyler could do to remove his expensive suit jacket before slamming himself against the counter.

With both hands, and without a moment’s hesitation, Tyler Hoechlin grabbed handfuls of the chocolate cake, shoveling it into his mouth. The cake itself was just as sweet as the frosting, eliciting the same desperation and intense cravings.

Tyler’s moans filled out his house as he ate the entire pastry, unable to stop himself. The realization over this fact made his eyes widen as he tried to stop his large hands from scooping the cake into his mouth. He strained his muscles as hard as he could, but was powerless under whatever cryptic control the dessert had over him. He was aware of how wrong it was for him to be devouring an entire cake by himself, hunched over it like a pig, but he couldn’t stop.

“What’s happening to me?!” Tyler panicked between mouthfuls of food, his heart starting to race as he was about halfway finished with the cake, his clothes suddenly feeling tighter.

The legs of his slim-fit pants felt snugger by the second, especially on his thighs. The seat of them were growing tighter and tighter, so much that Tyler’s fear was commingled with an odd sense of relief when there was a loud rip followed by a release of pressure. The frazzled actor couldn’t even stop his body from gobbling up the cake long enough to look over a broad shoulder to assess the damage to his pants.

However, Tyler’s fear spiked when there was a pop, followed by the  light clattering of his shirt buttons falling onto the floor. It was then that he registered the extreme tightness of his shirt and the odd way he felt his stomach pressing against the counter in a way it never had before.

The actor gasped as best as he could with a mouth full of cake when he looked down and saw a large gut protruding from his opened shirt in place of where a set of cut abs should have been. No matter how panicked the stud was over his growing mass, he still couldn’t prevent himself from finishing off the rest of the chocolate cake, his stomach continuing to growl as he chewed the last bits.

“What… the… fuck?!” Tyler gasped as soon as he was finished with the dessert, the lingering taste of chocolate still consuming his mouth, making his sense of hunger swell and become almost unbearable.

Tyler shoved himself away from the counter, wincing when he felt his new gut jiggle with the movement. The actor rushed to the bathroom, his large gut dropping the second he looked in the mirror.

His handsome face looked almost the same, only it wasn’t as thin and his cheeks looked fuller. His shoulders appeared to be slightly broader, but it was just due to the thick layer of fat that now covered his muscular form. With a shaky hand, Tyler reached up with a heavy arm and poked at his shoulder, his heart racing when he felt a soft and squishy body as opposed to hard. His hairy pecs were still big, but they lost some of their definition, rounding out a bit as they drooped downward slightly. They weren’t full on moobs, but they were not the toned pectorals that he was used to, and there was no way he could fit the mounds that were capped with enlarged, nubby nipples into his Superman costume. Even his arms had packed on size, his new fat shrouding his muscular definition— the same happened with his widened thighs which now pressed together, causing his saunter to look more like a waddle. His pants had completely torn to shreds during his transformation, leaving the shocked actor in his red underwear which were strained to bursting over the large, meaty globes that had replaced his pert bubble butt. 

But worse of all for Tyler was the large, jiggling gut that jutted away from his torso at a severe angle and blocked his view of his lower half. The hairy mass was so large that Tyler had no idea how long he’d have to work out and diet in order to get his old physique back, annoyed that his stomach was still growling hungrily.

“H-how is this possible?” he mumbled in shock as he gave the fuzzy mass a tentative poke, immediately regretting it as that simple touch sent darts start to his cock. Tyler paled as he was rock hard from touching his large gut, his cock springing out of his underwear and bobbing in the air. However, the actor was irritated when he looked downward, his eight inch cock completely hidden underneath his massive gut.

Tyler Hoechlin had no idea what he was going to do with a massive bear-like body, looking like he had a dad bod except with a significantly larger belly. He knew that he couldn’t fit in his Superman costume at all, and his reprisal of Derek Hale in the Teen Wolf Movie was going to be difficult since this character didn’t have a large hairy, sensitive gut!

In a huff, Tyler waddled over to the scale and stepped on it, having to bend over in order to see the bright red letters: 342 lbs.

Tyler stumbled a little in shock, his gut bouncing wildly with his jerking motions. He grabbed onto the bathroom counter to steady himself, shocked that he’d magically gained 170 pounds just from eating a mysterious cake, nearly doubling his bodyweight… most of it apparently centered on his massive gut.

“What the fuck am I going to do with this thing— uh!” Tyler moaned as he grabbed at his gut in frustration, his cock throbbing at the touch, making him roll his head back. His hunger grew even more and his stomach growled louder.

Ding Dong! the doorbell sounded out.

Tyler was jostled out of his shock from his inflation, his heart racing in his larger chest. Given the small size of his house, he was able to lean out of the bathroom doorway and shout out.

“Wh-who is it?” he yelled, his voice cracking with nerves.

“It’s Dylan!” Dylan O’Brien called out from the other side of the front door. 

Tyler paled at the thought of someone seeing him in his inflated, bulky form. However, a growing part of him was getting a little excited over his past costar visiting him, his cock throbbing with desire at the thought.

“Your assistant told me come over for your birthday!” Dylan called out when Tyler didn’t answer. “I brought cake!”

At the same exact second, Tyler’s stomach growled and his cock leaked precum. He hurriedly rushed towards his room, ignoring his new bulk bouncing as he ran and the loud thuds his feet made. “Come in!” he called over his broadened shoulder. “I have to throw something on!”

Tyler rushed into his bedroom, frantically tearing through his closet as he tried to find some loose clothes that he could fit in. He found some basketball shorts that looked more like spandex as it stretched around his big booty and widened thighs. His shirt, which was XL, was way too small, and the actor groaned as he struggled to fit it over his inflated pecs. Once he had the tight blue fabric on, his nubby nipples poked conspicuously against the cotton and the bottom kept bunching up over his hairy gut. No matter how many times Tyler tried to pull it down over his protruding stomach, the shirt kept popping back up, leaving his jiggling bear gut on perfect display.

After taking a deep breath, Tyler waddled out to the living room where Dylan waited, his face cherry red over how much his hairy gut bounced when he walked. Once he laid eyes on the much smaller actor, his cock throbbed painfully with want. And once he spotted the pink box Dylan held, his stomach growled loudly, sounding more like an animal.

Dylan looked over at the inflated Tyler, his eyes bulging out of his skull as he took in the sheer size of the man. “Whoa!” he gasped. “Tyler! Y-you, uh, you look good.”

Tyler blushed as he looked down at his inflated self, holding his heavy arms out in jest. “Yeah, I’ve been bulking up for a role,” he laughed. He gestured towards the couch. “Come sit down. Let’s eat some of that cake.”

Dylan shrugged and happily sat down on the tiny sofa.

Tyler sat down beside him, his new weight causing the furniture to groan loudly. He winced as he felt his new gut settle in his lap, and the large weight discrepancy between him and Dylan caused the couch cushion to dip wildly. The tilt caused Dylan to nearly tumble over, being pressed tightly against Tyler’s bulky body.

“Oh, sorry Man!” Dylan blushed as he tried to sit up off of the other man, placing a hand down on Tyler’s hairy gut to steady himself.

“Oohh!” Tyler moaned as soon as Dylan touched his sensitive gut, arching his back and shoving his inflated belly into the other man’s touch. Dylan’s slender fingers traveling through the fur that covered it was like an electric wire, sending shocks of electricity straight to his hard cock that was still hidden under his tummy.  Tyler curled his toes and rolled his head back.

Dylan paused for a second before smirking. “You like belly rubs?” he teased. He continued to caress Tyler’s new gut, running his hands underneath the hair that coated it, which acted like little sensors that only increased its hypersensitivity.

“Y-yeah!” Tyler stuttered, squirming helplessly underneath the smaller man’s touch. He knew that he should be panicking over his massive weight gain, and wondering why he was suddenly so attracted to another guy. But his mind was turned to mush as his cock throbbed with every touch that his new gut brought him. In his lust-fueled haze, Tyler reached up and tore his useless shirt away from his bulk, exposing his huge hairy pecs.

Dylan took the message and reached over with his other hand, squeezing his inflated chest. His hands brushed over Tyler’s nubby nipples, turning the inflated stud into a moaning mess.

“D-don’t stop!” Tyler begged, feeling like putty as he squirmed, his entire bulk incredibly sensitive. He pictured himself on the sets of his TV shows in his new form. He could easily play Superman, just looking extra thicc as a superhero with a rotund gut and nubby nipples that poke through the skintight costume. And his character Derek Hale would look insanely hot with his large gut protruding through the opening of his trademark leather jacket. And if he could convince Dylan to give him more belly rubs, Tyler wouldn’t really mind if he kept his new gut… or if it got bigger.

Tyler let out a low, bellowing moan as he came, his untouched cock shooting globs of cum in his underwear. The inflated man had never came so much in his life, leaving him panting as he struggled to catch his breath, his huge gut heaving up and down as he gasped.

“Holy shit,” Tyler panted. “That was hot.”

“Sure was,” Dylan agreed. “Now what do you say we make that belly of yours a little bigger?” He held up the pink box, his smile growing when Tyler’s stomach growled.

Tyler snatched the cake out of the box, going to town, shoveling it into his mouth with one hand while keeping his other tightly secured around the smaller guy, keeping him tightly against his squishy belly.

“Happy birthday, Tyler,” Dylan laughed, rubbing Tyler’s inflated gut lovingly, enjoying the resulting moan and noticing that it was steadily growing larger and larger… 

“You better fix this!”

Seeing this picture, I can imagine Stiles playing around with some magical spells, and poor Derek getting affected by them. Therefore, in the following photoshops that I’ve attempted to make, in each in every one of them, I can imagine Derek being shocked by his transformation, telling Stiles that he better fix him...

Derek unable to stop giggling and laughing in a goofy manner. “You, *giggle, better fix this!” he’d chuckle.

-- -- --

Derek would be too embarrassed over his squeaky voice, which is a side effect of his tiny head. Instead, he’d glare at Stiles, telepathically telling him to fix this.

-- -- --

“You, *snort, better fix this!” Derek would oink.

-- -- --

“You better fix this!” Derek would grunt in his deeper voice, blushing at how nice it felt to press the smaller human against his bulky muscles.

“Mmmph!” Stiles would struggle to reply with his face buried in Derek’s muscletits.

*This last photo is from @alec789​

“Peter! There you are! We’ve been looking all over for you!” Stiles exclaimed as he stomped into the gym, heading over towards the weight pile where the shirtless werewolf was working out. He was ready to chew him out for being M.I.A. for several days, but froze in his spot when he looked over the older former alpha.

Instead of his usual dapper self, Peter was a hulking beast. The shirtless stud sat on the bench and lifted dumbbells, his inflated biceps bulging to the size of bowling balls and without a doubt being no longer able to fit in his tailor-fitted shirts. Speaking of which, his cumbersome pecs were enormous, ballooning out from his chest to the point where they obscured part of his neck and to where his erect nipples were pointing straight downwards. Even his abs were pronounced and his waist seemed pinched inwards before meeting a pair of raggedy cargo shorts that he would normally never be seen dead in. This over-muscled Peter was nothing like the arrogant werewolf Stiles was used to, making his jaw drop in wonder and confusion.

Peter looked over at the surprised Stiles and flashed him a smile, yet his eyebrows were worriedly knitted together. “Yeah Bruh,” he said, his voice sounding deeper than usual, “all you had to do was check the gym. Ya know I’d here workin’ on my pump!”

He set one of the dumbbells down and flexed a giant bicep in front of Stiles’s wide eyes.

“Feel it,” he teased, leaning closer towards the small human. The cocky smirk that the werewolf wore did not at all match the panicked look in his eyes, which seemed to be silently pleading with Stiles.

“Um, maybe later,” Stiles mumbled, cocking his eyebrow at the muscle man. “Anyways, Peter, why have you been here? I’ve never known you to ever go to the gym once. In fact, I seem to recall you calling guys who go, and I quote, ‘Stupid Muscleheads’.”

“Peter wouldn’t say that,” an unknown voice said.

Stiles looked over to see another muscled up stud sauntering over to the weight pile, clad in nothing but spandex shorts and a yellow tank top that had the sides cut in a way that allowed his hairy, beefy chest to be prominent displayed. The unknown bodybuilder stopped right by Peter and patted his broadened shoulder.

“Peter here lives for working out,” the man laughed. “All this guy’s good for is buildin’ muscle and fuckin’. Right, Peter?”

Peter looked straight into Stiles’s eyes, and the pleading look that they conveyed made the human’s stomach churn slightly. However, the buffed up werewolf bellowed out, “Hell yeah! I love to build up this mass!” To punctuate his point, he made his inflated pecs bounce, the massive mounds leaping up and slamming back down with power, sending a ripple throughout his huge muscles.

Stiles immediately knew that this bodybuilder was behind Peter’s new body and attitude. However, he kept his lips sealed when the man looked over at him, smirking.

“You know what?” he said. “I think Peter’s done for the day. You can take him home.” He turned down to the new muscled up werewolf. “See you tomorrow for your workout.”

“Wait— what?” Stiles called out as the unknown man walked away, leaving him all alone with the bodybuilder Peter.

The newly transfigured Peter stood up, looking about twice as wide as he was before. His large arms rested on his flaring lats, being stuck at an odd angle. His thighs were so large that they rolled around each other with every step, turning his walk into a waddle. He must’ve put on at least one-hundred pounds of solid muscle, completely warping his formerly lean body into a body that oozed muscle and roids.

“Um, should you go get dressed first?” Stiles asked, figuring that he should at least take Peter to Derek or Deaton to try to see what was wrong and how they could help him.

Although the embarrassed look in Peter’s eyes looked like he wanted nothing more than to cover up his new bulk, he shook his head. “No way, Babe,” he chuckled in his deep, slow voice. “I gotta show off these gains wherever I go!”

When the two of them exited the gym doors and were out on the public street, Peter’s face turned bright red with blush as the citizens of Beacon Hills turned to look at his massive, inflated form. He was normally used to people looking at him in admiration due to his designer clothing and charming demeanor, however, now they were marveling at his massive size— some of them drooling with lust while others looking in disgust.

Peter, much to his horror, felt himself throw both of his massive arms up above his head, forming a double biceps pose for all to see. His mouth stretched out into that cocky grin he was forced to wear, and despite himself, he hated that he was getting so incredibly turned on by showing off his vast form to the onlookers… but that paled in comparison to how rock hard he got at the thought of smothering tiny Stiles with his giant pecs, his heart racing at the thought.

“Don’t worry, Peter,” Stiles said as he grabbed a hold of the werewolf’s beefy hand to lead him to his Jeep, “we’ll figure out how to change you back.”

He helped Peter into the passenger seat, trying to hold back a smile when the seatbelt completely disappeared into the cleavage of his giant pecs. When Stiles got into the driver’s seat, he stifled a laugh when he had to lean to the side a little bit due to the hyperbolic broadness of Peter’s shoulders.

“Yeah, I guess I’m just a little too buff for your ride, Little Man,” Peter boasted, and Stiles knew that was his way of apologizing for the inconvenience his size created.

“It’s cool,” Stiles reassured him, patting him on the hand. As he did so, he felt Peter grab a tight hold of it.

Instead of his eyes looking panicked, Peter’s eyes actually looked pleased as he stared down at the little human by his side. “Ya know,” he playfully growled, “I can show ya another muscle of mine.” He winked and gestured down at his shorts.

Stiles’s eyes nearly exploded as he saw the giant arm Peter’s cock had become. It snaked down his leg, looking about as thick as Stiles’s forearm.

Peter flirtatiously bounced his pecs, looking at Stiles expectantly.

“Well,” Stiles hummed, flooring the Jeep in the direction of his apartment, “I guess we can fix this a little later.”

-- -- --

[Photo Source: https://www.deviantart.com/doryfan1/art/Muscle-Morph-Ian-Bohen-1-544217699]

Dylan O’Brien sat back in the leather chair, enjoying the cool A/C as he waited in the office for the producers to return. He’d been called in to talk about a role in a TV show, which sounded nice, but the actor was more into movie roles. However, his manager had convinced him to hear them out.

The door opened and the producer, a buff looking older man, sauntered back into the room. “Hello there, Mr. O’Brien,” he warmly smiled. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise, and please call me ‘Dylan’,” the actor blushed.

The produced nodded as he took a seat on the other side of the large, wooden desk. “Very well, Dylan,” he grinned. “So let’s cut to the chase: we want to reboot Teen Wolf, and we would really like you to reprise your role as Stiles.”

Dylan bit down on his lower lip and twiddled his thumbs in front of himself. “Yeah, that sounds interesting, but canonically I believe the character of Stiles would no longer be a teenager, so I don’t really see myself fitting in well…”

The producer cleared his throat. “Oh, I didn’t quite explain it very well,” he hurriedly said. “This is more of a spin-off than it is a reboot. We’ve been doing a lot of research into the fanbase and I’m sure you’re well aware of the ‘Sterek’ phenomena. The show will be a hit if we focus it on you and Mr. Hoechlin’s character, and how the two of you develop your werewolf-human relationship.”

Again, Dylan wasn’t convinced. “I know Tyler’s busy with other projects, and I don’t think that he would be too keen—”

“He’s already on board!” the producer interrupted.

Dylan jerked back. “Really?” he gasped. “But I thought Superman & Lois was doing well?”

The producer nodded and pressed a button on the desk. “It was, but we managed to convince him to join our project instead,” he explained, the sounds of approaching footsteps audible on the other side of the office door. “He was a little apprehensive about being typecasted as a werewolf, but now he can’t imagine anything but playing canine characters.”

Dylan thought that that was an odd phrase, but before he could say anything, the door opened up.

“There he is now!” the producer cheered. “Tyler, come see Dylan!” He clapped his hands, making the actor cock his eyebrow in wonder.

“Woof! Woof!” Tyler Hoechlin barked like a dog as he scampered into the room on all fours. The older man was completely naked, letting his bulky muscles flex for the two other men in the room to see. He’d even let his chest hair grow out, and his hairy ass wiggled to and fro like an excited dog. More surprising to Dylan was the large dildo that stuck out of Tyler’s ass, sticking straight in the air and wagging back and forth like a makeshift tail. Tyler’s tongue lolled out of his mouth and when his eyes landed on Dylan’s horrified face, he lit up and hurried over.

“Wha—?!” Dylan panicked, speechless at the sight before him. He’d worked with Tyler for years and never before had he ever seen the man behave in such a manner. It didn’t take him long to know that there was something else afoot, his heart starting to race wildly in his chest.

“Woof!” Tyler excitedly barked as he rested his arms on Dylan’s lap, leaning forward to lick his face like a happy little puppy.

“Aww, he missed you,” the producer cooed, taking in the sight as if a grown man with a dildo stuck in his ass and licking another man was a normal sight to see.

“What did you do to him?” Dylan cried out, pushing against the man’s buff, hairy chest, only earning a whimper. 

However, his panicked fingers accidentally brushed against a protruding nipple, making the man-dog shudder. His bulky muscles tensed up and he rolled over on the ground onto his back, his large cock hardening to its full impressive length of eight inches. He held his arms close to his sides as a dog does on its back, looking at Dylan and whimpering with want, his hard cock bobbing in the air.

“Mr. Hoechlin here originally tried to turn us down, saying that he wasn’t interested in playing a werewolf again,” the producer mused. “So we had one of our departments convince him that he was made to play wolves. Right, Tyler?”

At the sound of his name, the man-dog flipped back over onto all fours and happily barked. “Woof! Woof!” He then felt his canine urges and crawled back over to Dylan, propping himself up as he began to hump his leg, grinding his hard cock against the shocked actor.

Dylan was too shocked to stop the man-dog from humping him, turning instead to stare down the producer who relaxed behind the desk. “Turn him back!” he demanded.

“He already signed the contract,” the man shrugged. “He’s stuck like this, so if you really wanna be a good friend, you’d join in on the project. It seems he’s taken a real shine to you. Besides, this is an interesting dynamic we’d like to explore on the show.”

Before he could answer, Tyler tensed up. “Arrooooo!” he howled as he came, shooting his load all over the other man’s jeans. When he was spent, his tongue hung out of his mouth and he panted, staying put at Dylan’s feet.

Dylan didn’t know what to do. Tyler Hoechlin was one of his best friends, and seeing him hypnotized to act like a dog all the time was a horrifying fate. As he stared down at him, Tyler looked up and wagged his tail.

“Fine,” Dylan sighed. 

The producer smiled widely. “Great!” he cheered. “We’ll send you the script tomorrow. For now, why don’t the two of you bond? I mean after all, he is your dog now.” He handed the actor a leash and a black, studded collar.

Feeling as if he were dreaming, Dylan affixed the collar around Tyler’s neck and snapped the leash on. The man-dog immediately jumped up on all fours and barked wildly, bouncing around like a dog who was excited to go for a walk. When the two men left the office, Tyler kept pulling at the leash, nearly dragging the smaller Dylan behind him.  Dylan was trying to piece together all that had happened, unsure if he were dreaming or not. His previous coworker was acting like a dog, and he appeared to either have no control over it or the old Tyler was completely gone, replaced by this man-dog. Dylan tried to look deep into Tyler’s eyes for any indication that he was in there somewhere, but all he saw were the loving and admiring eyes of a puppy staring back up.

“Woof!” Tyler happily barked when the two of them exited the building, sticking his nose into the air to sniff the outside breeze.

“Shit!” Dylan hissed when he realized that he was walking a naked man with a dildo shoved in his ass outside in public for all to see. The sidewalk was full of people coming and going, and the two men were out in the open. Despite being the one in control of his body and being fully clothed, Dylan’s face was cherry red with embarrassment for his friend.

However, nobody seemed to look twice. Some people did a double-take, only to comment to their companion that they’d seen the actors from Teen Wolf, not even caring to mention that Tyler Hoechlin was naked and wagging a footlong dildo back and forth like it was a damn tail. Someone even walked too close to them, and Tyler responded by placing himself in front of Dylan, puffing out his hairy chest and growling, baring his teeth.

“No!” Dylan scolded, tugging on his leash. “Bad dog!” He winced at his words, but shook it off and led Tyler to his car. Tyler leapt into the passenger seat, positioning himself like a dog in the small seat. Dylan hurried into the driver’s seat and sped off, eager to get his friend out of view from prying eyes.

Tyler leaned over as he drove, nuzzling against the other man and licking his face again.

Needing to focus on the road, Dylan sighed and rolled down Tyler’s window, somehow knowing that Tyler would lean his head out like a dog. He looked over at his man-dog of a friend, vowing that he’d take care of him.

“Don’t worry Tyler,” he promised the man-dog, “it’ll be okay.” He moved pat him on the shoulder, and at the slightest touch, Tyler’s cock shot to life.

Another issue of men’s fatness, featuring Tyler Hoechlin