Mike stared at the pair of men further down the beach, watching them toss a football back and forth. Their broad, powerful bodies glistened in the afternoon sun, while their ample muscles flexed and bounced as they jumped and ran to catch the ball. Mike's mouth watered as he saw their arms double in size whenever they threw the ball, or when their wide backs expanded as they leapt up to make an overhead catch. Their builds looked rugged and natural, the plentiful muscles coming from active use, not vain sculpting in a gym.
Even from a distance he could see that one of the men's tanned bodies had a light dusting of brown hair that matched the shaggy locks on his head, while the other seemed naturally smooth, with a lighter tan and short trimmed, jet black hair. They had a casual confidence about them that he envied. Neither seemed like the type to put much effort in their appearance, yet they radiated a sense of strength and masculinity that made Mike squirm. They both had on small, off-the-rack board shorts that showed off their sturdy thighs without being too revealing, and only gave a frustratingly slight glimpse of what lurked underneath. From what he could make out of their faces, they were both lantern-jawed, with full, stubble-covered cheeks on one and a trimmed beard on the other. They were handsome and beefy men, not gym-bunny pretty boys.
Being neither a gym bunny nor a beefy man, Mike was as jealous as he was aroused. No matter how much he tried, he'd never been able to bulk up. He'd spent countless, futile hours pumping iron, only to be left with the same lean, skinny body he'd started with. His efforts left him covered in shredded definition, but that wasn't what he wanted. Mike fully understood that plenty of guys would love to have abs like his, but all he saw was his flat, hairless chest and skinny arms. He'd always been naturally smooth, and as he reached his mid-twenties it became clear that was likely never going to change. His lean, high cheeks could barely muster a decent stubble every couple of days, let alone a full beard.
"If only," Mike sighed. He put down the book he'd been using as a cover for his ogling and looked disappointedly at his lithe torso and the small bulge in his speedo. The pair of long, thin legs that sprouted out the bottom didn't make him feel any better as he thought about the meaty trunks he really wanted. His tight, solid body and sharp features made hooking up an easy feat, and he'd experienced plenty of those beefy bodies second hand, but he wished more than anything that he could live it. He constantly wondered what it would be like to feel all that muscle shifting against itself as he moved, and to not care about his appearance or clothes or any of the countless other things his athletic, meathead fantasy self didn't have to worry about.
He climbed to his feet and waded out into the waves, hoping the cold water would calm his twitching cock. He'd been staring for a little too long and needed to clear his head. His long, toned arms sliced through the surf and carried him over the breaking waves until the men on the beach were a pair of small, moving dots in the distance.
He made his way out to the sandbar that ran parallel to shore and regained his footing in the stomach-deep water. Out past the breaking point, the tide on the sandbar was a gentle rocking that occasionally lifted him off his feet and lightly set him back down. He floated lazily and stared up at the cloudless blue sky that was steadily shifting from late afternoon to early evening. His mind drifted like his body as he bobbed hypnotically, dreaming about the kind of man he wished he could be.
His reverie was abruptly interrupted when he felt something large brush against him under the water. He darted upright, looking around and trying not to panic. Shark attacks weren't common in this part of the ocean, and he'd bumped against fish before, but this felt different. His heart started racing when he saw a long, black shape circling him in the water. Mike couldn't see any fins or other telltale signs of a shark or dolphin as the creature continued to swim in a steady path around him, but whatever it was clearly had him in its sights.
His confusion only grew when the serpentine shape seemed to break apart as a set of humanoid arms reached out from its sides while it swam. What originally looked like a torpedo-shaped object was becoming more human-like in appearance, with a set of legs developing from the solid mass that had been its lower half.
Mike was frozen with fear. The water around him was crystal clear and only a few feet deep. He wasn't looking at a dark object obscured by shadow, but a creature that was itself a deep, uninterrupted obsidian. It was like watching a sliver of the night sky swimming around him, slowly shaping itself to look more and more like the person it circled. It now had a fully human appearance, with long arms, legs, and a round head. It seemed to be growing larger and larger until what started out as a long, slender strand now looked like the silhouette of one of the men he'd been staring at on the beach.
"Fuck...fuck..." Mike rasped, partially finding his voice. The creature seemed to lose interest in him and instead shifted its attention to Mike's shadow that was steadily growing longer as the sun dropped lower and lower in the sky. He gasped, both from surprise and a sudden chill, when the creature wrapped itself around his shadow. Mike felt his skin crawl as he watched his shadow blur and slowly take on the shape of the creature as it was devoured. "What...what the fuck...." Mike was afraid to move. He stared down at a shadow that was no longer his own, feeling like it was staring back up at him at the same time. When he finally moved a thin arm, the beefy one on the shadow moved with it.
The sight was enough to knock him out of his shocked paralysis. He swam back to shore until his lungs and arms burned with effort, practically running across the top of the water itself. He knew he must look ridiculous, frantically splashing as if being chased by a great white, but he didn't care. He just wanted to be back on dry land.
"What the hell?!' He wheezed, doubled over and trying to catch his breath at the ocean's edge. He shook the salt water from his head and blinked at his shadow, which had gone back to it's long, lean self. He gave a few tentative gestures and was relieved when his attached marionette looked the way it should. "The fuck was that..." he muttered under his breath. He quickly gathered his things and headed for home, not quite able to shake the feeling that his shadow was still watching him.
**********
The next morning started as they always did. As usual, Mike slept through his alarm the first two times before finally dragging himself out of bed. He stumbled zombie-like into the bathroom and started up the shower, yawning and stretching his lean frame while the water warmed up. He moved on muscle memory, not even thinking about it as he lathered and rinsed his short, dark hair and started scrubbing himself down. It wasn't until he was rinsing himself off that he finally noticed the change to his body.
"Shit!" Mike yelped, jerking his hand away from the long, thick cock that dangled between his small thighs like it was a venomous snake. He stared at the swaying hose in stunned silence. At his hardest, Mike should have been a thin, five and a half inches, but the cock he looked at now hung at least that long soft, and was at least twice as thick as it should be.
His hands shook as he reached for it, a shocked laugh escaping his lips as he hefted the equally heavy balls that swung behind. "How is...wait...this can't be real..." Mike stammered as he felt his enlarged rod hardening in his grip, his stomach fluttering at the way the wide cock filled his slender hand. It gained another two inches at full mast, looking absolutely massive protruding from his thin body.
Real or not, Mike couldn't resist. He stroked his mammoth new rod, groaning loudly at the intense jolts of pleasure shooting through him. The feelings of strength and power he got from the sudden growth were just as arousing as his pumping, even more so when he erupted like a shotgun all over the shower wall. He stared at his naked reflection in the mirror afterwards, swinging his heavy package back and forth like a pendulum. Part of his brain was telling him to be concerned, but the rest of it couldn't seem to muster up the energy to follow through on that anxiety.
