April Showers

“THAT’S A CUT!” The first AD yelled.

Things were winding down on the Aquaman reshoots. They’d brought Jason Momoa in to do a couple of pick up shots, green screen composites and what not. Jason had been quiet and cooperative the entire time. Everyone thought he was just being nice, but really, he was just trying not to blow his cover…

“Thanks a bunch, Jason,” the stunt coordinator said as he helped the massive man out of the water. In his head, he snickered: wow, they really think I’m Jason Momoa!

“No problem,” said “Jason” as he toweled off. He never ceased to be astonished by the sheer amount of mass packed on to this man’s form. When he’d chosen Jason Momoa’s body as a birthday gift to himself, The Great Craftsman underestimated just how much actual “body” there was to take care of. The man was a never ending collection of muscles and masculine charisma.

The Craftsman was in desperate need of a vacation, and the Aquaman reshoots were the perfect way to spend it. He’d saved the real Momoa the responsibility of having to get back into the saddle again, and The Craftsman found he actually enjoyed being in front of the camera.

But now, it was time to rest. He’d found a nice spa in Queensland where he would go and relax after shooting every day. He threw a tank top on over his still steaming chest, and had his chauffeur drive him up to the back of the spa.

The locker rooms weren’t usually populated, so The Craftsman had very little chance of getting spotted as Jason while there.

However, when he walked into the lockers, he was not alone…

Mr Cavanaugh was on something of a birthday vacation as well. Since taking the from of bodybuilder Ryan Terry, he’d felt the urge to show off. Perhaps an element of Terry’s personality that had carried over from the transformation.

Why he had picked Australia, he did not know. One could say that it was fate that brought the two masters of transformation together in that room at that time. Of course, neither of them knew that…

“Jason” nodded awkwardly to Ryan as he opened up a locker. “Ryan” did the same. The same thought ran through both men’s heads: Is that…? No, it couldn’t be. How would I know it’s him? Would it be rude to ask?

Cavanaugh had to fight to keep his attention in the mirror as Jason pulled off his thred-bare tank top, exposing his shimmering body to the musky warmth of the spa changing room. One stray look could give him away. If he really was in the same room with The Craftsman, it wouldn’t matter. But the last thing he’d want to do was piss off Jason Momoa.

The man kept undressing. Socks, swim trunks, and finally, his briefs. Can couldn’t take it anymore. He had to get a look at that famous Samoan cock.

But just as soon as The Craftsman had removed all his clothes, he was heading to the showers. It took everything in Crafty’s power not to sneak a glimpse at Ryan checking himself out in the mirror. The way he flexed and flared his bodybuilder muscles, ran his hands over is cut body as if he were exploring it for the first time…

No, The Craftsman told himself. There was a chance it was just Mr Cavanaugh in Terry’s body, but there was no way to be sure. Better to avoid a confrontation.

“Jason” stepped into a shower stall and turned the water on. He might have been spending all day underwater (he was “Aquaman” after all), but there was something about the special showers at the spa that felt so natural, so relaxing.

He adjusted the head so that the steaming hot water came out in a long jet, hitting the hard-to-reach places of his insurmountable physique. He had to crouch down slightly to fit under the head since he was so tall, but once he did, it was bliss.

Steam started to rise slowly from underneath him. As it did, The Craftsman’s mind drifted to Ryan, standing in front of the mirror, his eyes fighting to keep from fixating on Jason’s behemoth of a penis. It really was the stuff of legend; the costume designers even joked how “hard” it was to keep it from showing in all his outfits.

He didn’t even realize that he was stroking his cock until he felt himself close to cumming. He looked down to see his big dick sitting heavy in his hand, but something strange had happened. The tattoo on his left arm was gone.

The Craftsman didn’t have time to react before he heard the shower go on in the opposite stall. Ryan, he thought. The thought of him, naked and wet, just feet away from him sent another wave of testosterone flooding throughout his veins. He wasn’t usually this horny. Was he turning back? He hadn’t lost any of Jason’s muscle definition. If anything, he seemed to grow slightly bigger…

Things in the next-door stall were similarly strange. Mr Cavanaugh had hoped a shower would take his mind off of Jason Momoa, but as the water trickled over his hard, veiny skin, he was hit with a feeling of attraction so raw and so powerful that his dick was hard within seconds. And Ryan Terry’s dick was nothing to complain about.

He heard something from the adjacent shower. A moan, quiet and soft, but desperate. Was that Jason? thought Mr Cavanaugh. Even the idea that the man could be rubbing one out under the water next door was enough to make him burst. He gripped both sides of the shower wall with his hands, trying not to touch his cock out of fear it might explode.

Jason continued to moan. As he did, Cavanaugh noticed that the ground seemed farther and farther away. He thought he was just going dizzy from all the sexual feelings, but then his skull bumped up against the shower head. “OW!” he yelped. Ryan Terry was tall, but he wasn’t that tall. Certainly not taller than Momoa.

But Cav was starting to feel less and less like Ryan Terry. He wasn’t feeling like himself either. Something in the shower water was turning him into something else. Something bigger, sexier, hornier.

Next-door, The Craftsman was in panic mode. In a matter of seconds, he’d gone from almost 6 foot 2, to 5 foot 7. He saw the top of the shower head tower above him as the stall seemed to shrink around him. His body was inflating to a cartoonishly large size. He looked less like a muscular dude than what a horny gay guy would define as a “muscular dude.” His pecs were so round, his arms so thick, moving around in the stall seemed impossible.

But what scared Crafty most of all was what was going on inside his head. This transformation wasn’t like others he had experienced. Something was shifting mentally, like the world around him was getting fuzzier. He felt his inhibitions, his logic, his smarts vanishing into the steam building around him, and he realized too late just what exactly that the shower was turning him into…

“Hey bro!”

Crafty looked up. He half expected to see Ryan Terry standing before him, but the man looking down on him instead was—dare I say—sexier. Every muscle on his body was proportioned perfectly. Every hair on his head felt placed there on purpose. And he had a smile so charming, he could sell you anything.

He was also a complete idiot. “Hey bro,” the man said again, “I put some soap on my hands, but I think I put too much on… want me to wash you off bro?”

“Sure bro,” Crafty felt himself say. He wanted nothing more than to feel this man’s hands glide over his thick muscles. He looked down to see that his erect dick (still the same size as Momoa’s, though the girth had grown significantly) was rubbing up against Cavanaugh’s equally large cock. “Haha, sword fight,” Cav said as he pressed his dick up against Crafty’s.

He came instantly, and the man followed soon after. Cavanaugh’s orgasm was so intense that he had to grip the shorter man’s shoulders just to keep from collapsing. His soapy hands slid down the mountains of his shoulders, and it only made the two of them cum even harder.

“Fuck bro,” Mr Cavanaugh said once they had finished, “you’ve gotta hell of a body.”

“Thanks bro,” The Craftsman said, “Why don’t you help me wash it?”

By the time Momoa’s chauffeur would pick him up later that night, it wouldn’t seem like anything had changed. Physically, that is.

Inside, The Craftsman knew he had just spent the last several hours as a dumb, horny jock with Mr Cavanaugh. While both he and Cav were going off to continue their lives as Jason Momoa and Ryan Terry respectively, they would never forget sharing that shower, and experiencing those incredible bodies.