Oh, fuck! How the hell did Spencer act so calm and cool all the time? Didn’t he have any clue how hot he was? The man should have been walking about with a permanent erection!

It’s been almost a month since I “borrowed” Spencer’s body. You would think I could get used to being the biggest stud in the county. But no, it turns out that simply inhabiting this sweet bod completely fucking overwhelms me. In my spare time, all I fucking do is lock myself in my bedroom and jerk off to my reflection.

I can’t look at a single part of my body without salivating at those thick slabs of man-beef.

I can’t glance at a mirror or store window without pausing to gaze at that beautiful face with it’s startling combination of boyish youth and virile masculinity.

Clothing does not help. Any clothing that looked embarrassingly dorky on my old body now just looks sexy as fuck on this one. Dressing up has just become one big sexual tease, especially with that full-size mirror in Spencer’s room - by the time I’m done I need to spew a geyser of cum all over my hot reflection.

Tight, fitted clothes leave nothing to the imagination - every bulge and cut is blatantly broadcast to the entire world. On the other hand, loose clothes are nearly worse - they leave everything open to the imagination. They are incapable of hiding my barn-door upper body, so the prominent tent of loose cloth draping down from my shoulder and pec shelves can’t help but scream “this stud’s got a fucking tight and sexy midsection you puny little shits”.

Fuck, even if I close my eyes I can still feel every single fiber of my new musculature. I can always feel my immense pectorals rise and fall in perfect sync with my powerful lungs. I can also sense the inhuman amount of potential energy buzzing within me. It calls out to me. Promising me that’s it’s ready to react to my command; ready to let me knock the wind out of an opponent during the big game; ready to allow me to power my way through sets of unbelievably heavy squats; ready to transform any part of my amazing brawn into a devastating instrument of might.

I’m a fucking masterpiece of masculine power - part of an elite group of men. Everywhere I go I am both admired and feared; worshipped and dreaded.

My entire being induces my dick to spasm uncontrollably.

And it feels so fucking good.

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