thescreamingmoist
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Projected
🕑 Added 2023-12-11 20:00:04 +0000 UTCTom wanted to believe he was dreaming. He’d had nightmares this vivid before, as well as ones sharing a similar theme, but, no matter how much he wished otherwise, Tom knew that he actually was horrifyingly awake. His day had been too unremarkable, too mundane so far. He’d gone through his morning routine as always, without the slightest surreal twist to his commute or time in the office to suggest a dream. And even if there had been, the stunned man doubted that he could have slept through the waves of shock and adrenaline currently coursing through his system. Tom’s heart was a jackhammer in his chest, his fight or flight reflex screaming at him to do that latter, if only his body would respond. However, once the state of his wakefulness had been determined, there were still several pressing questions left unanswered, not the least of which being where his pants had gone.
There hadn’t been any warning. One minute Tom was sitting at his desk with everything as it should have been, and the next his world turned on its head. His coworker Bryan had swung by his office to walk with him to their meeting, and Tom had felt the unexpected rush of air on his lower half as soon as he’d stood. His immediate thought was that something had ripped or split. He hadn’t heard anything, nor had he felt his pants give out, but it was the only logical explanation. He certainly hadn’t expected to look down and find himself with an unobstructed view of his hairy, meaty thighs and firm, rocky calves. His ankle socks and sneakers were still there, as was his tight, navy polo, but his jeans had vanished entirely. To make matters worse, instead of the modest black boxer briefs that should have been revealed by the impossible disappearance, Tom gawked at the stuffed pouch of a cherry thong. The bright, straining fabric left absolutely none of his girthy package to the imagination, to say nothing of the plump, prominent cheeks hanging exposed at his back. The hairy melons swallowed the cherry string entirely, making it look to anyone who viewed Tom from behind as if he actually was entirely nude from the waist down. Nor did his tight shirt provide any coverage, as the bottom bunched and rested on the meaty cakes like they were a muscled shelf, the plump backside built large from years of soccer. Tom had been avid about the sport throughout his youth, and a mid-twenties interest in weightlifting had added a burly layer to his formerly thin build. Now at 32, he’d gone from wiry and lean to solid and stocky, his modest gains accentuated by his somewhat short 5’7” stature.
That lack of height, however, had been the only point of insecurity for the dark-haired hunk. With his athletic physique and hefty endowment, Tom had never had anything to worry about when it came to his body, regardless of how much there was of it. Add in a full head of wavy, coffee-colored hair that draped past his ears, framing in an olive-hued face whose features were at once masculine yet delicate, and the short stud was officially gorgeous. He never lacked for attention, either from men or from women, but while he turned heads wherever he went, Tom had always remained relatively modest. His social media accounts were full of shirtless summertime photos, but baring his broad shoulders and sculpted pec was as far as Tom ever went. Even in the locker room he never lingered in any state of undress for long, nor had he ever been the kind of guy to hang out with his friends in his underwear.
So to suddenly find himself pantsless in the office, with his boxer briefs replaced by a near-pointless thong, was a jarring experience. He was at least grateful that he’d made the discovery with Bryan, a coworker a few years his junior who’d already seen more of Tom than most of his coworkers when they’d crossed paths in the locker room at the company gym, but that was slight comfort at best. Tom felt his face go crimson as he stared in wide-eyed shock at his friend, though he confusingly made no move to cover himself. He kept thinking that his hands should drop, that he should scamper back behind his desk. The only thing keeping his exposed lower half from the rest of the office was the taller brunette’s broad frame filling his doorway. If he was still standing there when Bryan moved, everyone would see everything he had to offer,
But Tom couldn’t do it. Despite the frenzied panic causing his heart to pound so hard it should have been visible through his straining polo, the short stud could only blink at his friend, mustering an awkward smile as the sole display of his discomfort. It also didn’t help that Bryan hadn’t reacted at all. He’d merely cocked his head and raised an eyebrow at Tom’s surprised expression, his eyes only briefly lingering on the underdressed hunk’s stuffed bulge.
“Everything okay,” Bryan asked, returning Tom’s awkward smile as he looked down at himself. “Do I have something on my shirt?” He instinctively tensed the prominent pecs pushing out the front of his own slate polo, his powerful arm inflating while he absently brushed at his abs. The tight top tucked into his tapering waist, the bottom disappearing into a pair of jeans similar to the ones Tom should have worn, still showing off the taller brunette’s powerful legs, though to a much lesser degree. Unlike Tom, Bryan had always primarily focused on lifting, leaving his six-foot frame with a sculpted, strapping physique, the details of which had started to stand out like never before to the shorter man’s wide eyes. Tom caught himself struggling to keep his gaze from the front of Bryan’s jeans, though lingering on the outlined mounds at the other man’s chest, and the perky little nipples that poked against the thin material, wasn’t much better. All at once, the exposed stud’s head began to swim with memories of his friend’s body in motion, what the muscled hunk looked like lifting, flexing, and, most importantly, showering.
Tom wanted to say no, of course things weren’t okay. He wanted to beg Bryan not to move until he could grab the shorts from his gym bag, and to somehow try and explain the impossible circumstances. Instead, he shrugged and shook his head. “I…yeah, yeah, sorry,” he said with a short laugh. “Totally just did a hard reset there.”
Bryan’s concerned expression faded back to its normally cocky proportions. The meathead’s squared-off features weren’t as refined as Tom’s, his cropped tan hair only adding to the aura of unintelligence that surrounded his imposing frame. Bryan wasn’t actually a “dumb jock”, but he wasn’t far off, riding the line between “enthusiastic puppy dog” on his good days, and “brashly bullheaded” on his bad. “You good? You need a minute? You’re the one giving the update on our project this morning, right? If they like what you have to say, the rest of our year is looking like a cake walk.”
“I’m ready,” Tom nodded, a stomach-dropping wave of vertigo washing over him as he casually followed Bryan out into the sea of cubicles. Though he screamed at himself internally, the dark-haired hunk was all smiles as he strutted past his many, many coworkers, his head spinning as he tried to reconcile the conflicting, simultaneous sensations of open air on his plump cheeks and the office small talk ringing in his ears. Making matters worse was the unfamiliar feeling of the unfamiliar underwear, the way the stuffed pouch let his hefty package bounce and sway while the string wedged deep behind. Tom could feel the bottom of his shirt shifting against the top of his meaty cheeks, and he knew it would provide at least a suggestion of coverage if he pulled it down, but he left it where it was. Despite the fact that it all should have been impossibly humiliating, it all felt impossibly normal. Tom was mortified on a logical level, but on an emotional one he felt fantastic. Excited, even. On the flipside of the horrifyingly new sensations was an almost giddy sense of novelty, a rush of experiences that he’d never even dreamt of feeling before, save for his most embarrassing nightmares. It was almost a turn on. Tom’s stomach fluttered at the thought of how many people had just seen some of his most intimate details, even while his own mind wandered to those of Bryan’s. His eyes had been glued to the taller man’s ample, shifting rear while they’d walked, and he’d been so overwhelmed by everything that was happening that it never occurred to him to question the unfamiliar arousal until it was too late.
“Alright, man…you got this,” Bryan said, giving Tom’s bare cheeks a rough swat and a lingering squeeze just before they entered the small conference room. The skin-to-skin sensation was electric, the resulting reaction alarmingly automatic. Tom didn’t actually think it was possible for him to be more horrified than he already was, but, as he stood at the head of the table with his fat cock twitching to life, he realized just how far he could still fall.
“Good morning everyone,” he said, his thick organ surging. The pointless thong was helpless to contain the impressive beast, the tented, cherry fabric acting instead like a bright bullseye for everyone’s attention as Tom’s eight inches stretched the skimpy underwear taut, exposing his now-churning balls in full, along with the majority of his wide shaft. The aching member miraculously never slipped fully free as Tom casually delivered his presentation, but he was still painfully aware of how many eyes were fixed on the throbbing club. The handsome hunk had never been witnessed in a state of aching arousal by more than a single person at a time, let alone a dozen, and usually in a much more intimate setting than a sterile conference room. Yet, as Tom watched everyone watching him, his cock throbbed ever harder. There was no longer any question as to whether or not his unintended exposure was a turn on, and he desperately wished that the crimson sheen beneath his sharp, stubble-covered cheeks was caused by the embarrassment he wanted to feel, not a stomach-fluttering excitement.
As with Bryan, no one reacted the way they should have. People paid polite attention and eyes lingered, most of them lustily, but no one behaved as if anything out of the ordinary was happening. It wasn’t until the very end of the meeting, after Tom had answered everyone’s questions and they were on their way out the door, that one of the senior managers made a comment about how he’d “have to show them how it worked instead of just teasing them with it next time.” But even this bizarre comment had been delivered in an entirely mundane manner, as had the quick bounce the heavyset man had given Tom’s tented pouch.
Something about the strange encounter struck a chord with the flustered stud, a faint stirring of an incomplete memory that felt important, but which stubbornly refused to coalesce. It didn’t help that a beaming Bryan was guiding him back to his office with a burly arm draped around his shoulder, letting Tom’s bouncing pole lead the way. The proximity of his larger friend was overwhelming, as was the strong, heavy arm holding him close, and it was suddenly taking all of Tom’s willpower not to fully throw himself at the other man.
“Dude! You killed it,” Bryan cheered once they were back in the shorter man’s office. He gave Tom a playful shove towards his desk, closing the door behind them. “They ate that shit up! Did you see the looks on their faces? We’re golden.” Bryan stepped forward before Tom could turn back around, his hand once again dropping to his friend’s plump, ample cheek. “We’re not going to have to lift a finger for the next six months,” he grinned, his hand slowly working its way over to the deep valley currently bisected by the back of the thong. “Gives us plenty of time to do something else with ‘em instead.”
“Oh!” Tom gasped when Bryan’s finger pressed against his hole, instinctively leaning forward to give the other man better access. It was a reflexive response, just like the way his lips wrapped around those same fingers a moment later, lubing the stubby digits with his mouth. Tom tried to tell himself that none of it was really happening, that he wasn’t really about to get fingered at his desk, but the spit-slick fingers slipping inside told him otherwise. “MMMNNnnhhhh…” he moaned, his broad upper back and sturdy arms flexing as he leaned against the desk for support. Instead of pulling away like he felt he should, he pressed his penetrated bubble back against Bryan’s hand, his knees going weak at the novel ecstasy flooding his system. “Oh fuck…oh fuuuuuuck,” Tom grunted, trying not to think about all of his coworkers just on the other side of the thin walls.
“I love how much you love this,” Bryan chuckled, reaching around to flick the tented pouch off the shorter man’s now-oozing pole. “My girl doesn’t even get this excited. Nice confidence booster, you know?”
“Happy to…help…” Tom whimpered, his vision blurring. As worked up as he already was, he could feel himself nearing the edge, his logical brain still refusing to accept that he was about to blow all over his desk.
“You’ve got a nicer ass, too. But don’t tell her I said that,” Bryan purred, stepping close enough to grind his own tented bulge against his friend’s thigh.
“Won’t…tell her about that…either,” Tom grunted, too overwhelmed to push back against the sudden, desperate need as a hand drifted behind to grope the front of the other man’s jeans.
Bryan laughed and began undoing his fly with his free hand. “She’s actually cool with me and you. She gets that you’re different,” he said, slipping his aching cock through the fly of his boxers. The stout, wide organ wasn’t as long as Tom’s, but it was thick and heavy, a perfect complement to the rest of Bryan’s meaty frame. “She knows it can’t be easy for a guy like you, walking around in those little panties all day. You’ve got special needs…I’m just happy to help.”
“NNNGGGHH….!” Tom arched his back as Bryan pulled his fingers free and slipped inside, his lust-addled brain finally putting the terrifying pieces together. The memory that had started to form just after the meeting suddenly cemented itself, a recollection of a recent night out where he and his friend Matt had an impossibly familiar conversation. They were already a few drinks in when they’d encountered the man, a fit, primped young hunk wearing plastered on shorts with an obvious whale tail on display as he sat at the bar. The sight of the unexpected underwear led to a drunken conversation between himself and Matt that, while not intentionally cruel, had still been ignorant at best. They’d discussed what a guy who wore “panties” like that was into, making crass assumptions about them being an exhibitionist, and how they must have simply been advertising what was available. This was followed by a few crude “shouldn’t have been dressed that way” jokes, along with a vigorous debate over whether or not it would actually be “gay” for one of them to take the handsome hunk up on what he was clearly offering. It hadn’t occurred to Tom until the next day that the other man had likely heard every word, but, other than a bit of guilt over his immature behavior, he’d forgotten all about it. Now, somehow, he was living out everything he’d said, as if he’d been projecting his own hidden desires onto the other man. Tom still didn’t understand how any of it was possible in the first place, but he was more concerned with the full extent of what the revelation meant for his altered existence. If his suspicions were correct, it meant he’d unintentionally insulted his way into the life of a horny, cock-hungry exhibitionist with no shame or inhibitions, just waiting to be used, a state that the rest of the world apparently accepted as entirely normal. Tom already knew without a doubt that he’d find an equally altered wardrobe at home, his closets and dressers now having a few significant omissions when it came to coverage below the waist. “Oh…oh god…oh god…” he moaned.
“Bro…I know…” Bryan grunted, mistaking the source of the other man’s whimpers. His large hands clutched Tom’s trim hips as he hammered into the rippling globes, the loud slapping clearly audible beyond the office walls. “This ass is a…better perk…than the…health insurance…”
Tom wanted to be horrified at the notion of his eager hole being seen as an unofficial perk of the workplace, but he was too busy holding back a bellowing wail. He shoved a fist into his mouth to muffle the cry, his other hand just barely making it to the spewing rod in time to catch the explosive load. The warm liquid splashed against his palm and spilled through his fingers, but at least it didn’t coat the notepads and keyboard scattered across his desk.
Tom’s battered rear, on the other hand, had no problem catching Bryan’s eruption. With a final thrust, the tan-haired hunk jammed deep and let loose, his broad frame spasming against the shorter man’s back. He let out a low, drunken laugh when he’d finished, his head falling forward to rest on Tom’s soft, wavy scalp. “We need to do this after every meeting,” he panted, reluctantly pulling his softening organ out of his friend.
“I mean…I’m not going to say no,” Tom sighed, the expectation of embarrassment returning as he stood with cum dripping both out of his hand and out of his pummeled hole. The sudden awareness of the wipes and paper towels in the cabinet behind his desk was cold comfort, but at least he wouldn’t be walking around with his exposed, hairy thighs matted with cum. He was caught off guard by just how much he still wanted to throw himself at the other man when he turned around, how much he wanted to strip Bryan out of his clothes and get a look at the brunette’s muscled frame in full, but he knew that wasn’t how this worked. He was the one on display, not his friend, and while there would be plenty of mutually naked romps in more appropriate settings, Tom was on his own in public. His eyes lingered on Bryan’s stout, soft cock while the other man put it away, already wondering when he’d get to have it again.
“We still on for watching the game at your place Sunday,” the taller man asked as he adjusted his pants and gave himself a quick once-over. Tom nodded, thrilled to have his question answered. He didn’t love the idea of having to wait several days before getting Bryan out of his clothes, but he knew they’d at least repeat this experience a few more times before then. And, much to Tom’s confused excitement, he knew there’d be plenty of other men to occupy his time as well. He stuffed his own swaying snake back into the pointless thong and took a deep breath, torn between dread and glee over his predicament. Tom had no idea if this was a temporary punishment or if he’d be walking around without pants for the rest of his life, and he already couldn’t decide which outcome he’d prefer. “Great!” Bryan cheered, clapping Tom on the shoulder. “My buddy Clay is going to be in town…is it cool if I bring him? He’s a solid guy...we used to lift together for years. I think you two’ll hit it off, if you know what I mean,” he winked.
Tom grinned despite the strange sensation of looking forward to being tag-teamed by a pair of naked meatheads. “Can’t wait,” he said, standing exposed in the doorway when Bryan left.
