“Harder…” you moaned, but it went without saying; you had the most delicious ass on the planet, and the guy underneath you was absolutely destroying it. His tiny bedroom reverberated with the ripe, rapid patter of his waist slamming against your sweat-drenched cheeks, fast as machine gun fire and harder than a tribal drum.
He was a monster—whatever his name was. He dwarfed his queen sized bed, and you practically had to do the splits just to mount him. If anything, this made it easier for you to fuck: all 9-inches of his solid flesh and muscle deep inside your ass, spread wide like a canyon. Before tonight, you wouldn’t have dreamed of taking a dick this big. Now, it was like second nature.
Everything went fuzzy as you reached your third orgasm of the night, your shivering body awash with fresh endorphins. But along with the familiar pleasure came a familiar pain, an ever-so-slight contraction of your muscles… as if they wanted to recede back into your body…
“FUCK,” you cried. You unleashed a torrent of hot seed onto his muscle gut, just as he delivered another load into your already gapping hole. You looked down to see him panting beneath you, sweat soaking the milky-white sheets all around him.
He’s so big. You couldn’t stop saying it to yourself, not since you saw him lumber out of the bathroom at the bar four hours ago. Had it only been four hours? It felt like four days. He’s SO big. Like your mind trying to remind you that this was real. That he was really there, laughing, sweating, leaking out of your ass.
“You’re so big,” he smiled, running one of his hands up your chest. His hands… Jesus. You wanted to sit and stare at him forever. But with every passing second, the pain grew more and more present, until it was impossible to ignore. In less than a minute, you would look exactly like you did when you woke up this morning; scrawny, spindly. Small.
No. Not right now. Not like this.
You dove for the water bottle on the bedside table. It took only a second to pop the cap and throw it back. You felt the cool liquid trickle down your throat. The water tasted just how it had looked back when you first saw it cascade over that waterfall in Thailand several months ago: magical. Simply magical.
And it was—according to the locals. One sip of the water from the falls, and you could transform into anyone you imagined. But the effect was temporary, lasting about as long as the water took to exit your system. You took as much of it as you could carry, but the hike was long and the water was heavy. This bottle was all you had left. And now, it was almost empty.
“Someone’s thirsty,” the horny bodybuilder said, continuing to feel your pecs in utter amazement. He was going to make you cum again. Just knowing he was still there, still inside you. The way he felt your muscles, how he cherished every perfect hair, every flawless inch of skin.
You were like a bitch in heat; it would take everything in your power to dismount him. But the pain wasn’t getting any better, and you couldn’t let him see you for who you truly were.
“I have to use the bathroom,” you said, but you were already halfway there. Your asshole ached in the absence of his dick, as if an entire part of your body had gone missing. As you fumbled around for the light switch, you recognized this feeling as withdrawal. You’d felt it several years back when you tried to kick cigarettes; when your body builds a chemical dependance on something, you can’t live without it.
But when you finally switched on the lights and saw your reflection in the mirror, you realized it wasn’t some random guy’s cock you were addicted to… it was this:
It was the same reflection you saw staring back at you in the pool under the falls, that very first time you took a sip from the mystical water. As it trickled down your throat, you imagined everything you ever wanted: to be taller, to be hotter, to have muscles that would take decades (and specific genetics) to develop. You wanted to be hairy, to have a pelt of fur guys could get lost in, a testament to a level of raw masculinity you knew you could never possess.
Only now, you did. You had become the man of your dreams, and that same man was laying in the next room, dick still hard, waiting for you to come back and share your incredible body with him.
But that very body was already beginning to vanish. You could see the hair receding back to its follicles, the top of the counter growing ever closer to your face as your height began to shrink.
It was just as the town locals had said: the water was a gift, and a curse. It is one thing to look like your ideal self, and another to have that ideal self ripped away, again and again? Now you understood why the hike to and from the falls was so arduous, why the locals themselves never dared drink of the water themselves; once you became your dream self, you never wanted to go back.
You looked down at the water bottle in your hands, and the one, big sip left swirling inside. There was a lot you could do with one big sip. At least one more good fuck. Maybe two? Or was this the water itself talking, trying to extend its presence in your life even further? Because even as you deliberated in the bathroom, your muscles getting smaller and smaller, your mind was already planning your next trip to Thailand.
It was like cigarettes all over again. You shook your head and closed the cap. You were going to walk out, tell your new friend that things have been fun, and escape before he could notice the changes. Then when you got back home, you would dump the rest of the water. No matter how incredible your fantasy was, it was just that; a fantasy. “A lie is like a parasite,” one of the wise old villagers had said, “it lives in you for as long as it can. You feed it just as it feeds you. But eventually, it dies, as every living thing does. Because only the truth can live forever.”
You walked back out into the bedroom, mouth open and ready to say goodbye. But you stopped when you saw him, spread-eagle on the bed, his cock still chubby and his smile still wide.
“How about another round?” he purred.
Without thinking, you removed the cap and downed the final sip.
What’s the harm in one more lie?
