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“Puberty Is a Bitch!” 8: Plans

Sam yawned, and placed his gym bag in his locker. Brad had kept him up late the past few nights. Ever since their discussion about Brad’s perception of himself, he’d become increasingly affectionate at home. It was as if something had been unleashed within Brad, and he made love with a fiery passion that consumed them both. He was an animal in bed, and last night had taken the cake with five times before Brad reached exhaustion. But things at school still hadn’t changed.

As Sam pulled his school-issued, bright blue speedo up over his thighs, he looked around for Brad. Late as always. Sam walked through the locker room to the showers where the door to the indoor pool was. He opened the door, and slung his towel over his shoulder. As he walked past the other guys, he ignored the stares he got. He was used to it. Years of swimming, combined with a good set of equipment and a smooth bod, made him a dazzling sight in a speedo. Most of the boys envied or desired him. But no one made him feel more appreciated, more wanted than Brad did. He just wished he could make Brad feel the same.

Coach Weis blew his whistle to quiet everyone. "Okay, guys, listen up. Today’s an easy lesson. We’re doing the back stroke and breast stroke."

Everyone groaned. The jocks, fit as they were, weren’t built for this kind of sport. However, Sam loved it. The door from the shower room creaked open, and everyone looked to see Brad walk in. he was wearing an oversized t-shirt and an enormous towel wrapped around his waist. As he walked, Sam noted an odd wobble to his stride.

With his head down, Brad handed a slip of paper to Coach Weis. "Here, it’s a late pass from the hall monitor."

The coach eyed him suspiciously, "Glad you could join us, Brad. We’re doing backstroke and breast stroke today. And unless you plan on taking a non-participation today, lose the shirt and towel."

Suddenly, it hit Sam that this was Brad’s first swimming session since the changes had started. He held his breath in anticipation.

Slowly, Brad grasped the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, and hanging it on a nearby safety rail. As he moved, the ripple of muscles throughout his back only emphasized the increased width of his upper torso in stark contrast to his miniscule waist. Tauntingly, some of the other guys started to whistle.

"Knock it off, ladies!", Weis snapped. "Now the towel, Brad, we don’t have all day. And turn around, for pity’s sake! We’re all guys here, you have nothing to be ashamed of."

Brad’s shoulders slumped, and a nearly inaudible sigh escaped him as he removed the towel and hung it next to the shirt. Slowly, uncertainly, Brad turned around. A gasp suddenly swept through the other guys, and Sam smiled tightly to himself. Yeah, boys, get a load of that!

At some point today, Brad must have endured another growth spurt. A big one! His neck was nearly as thick as his head, and sloped down to meet a high pair of traps. His delts were beautifully defined, each head visible. His pecs jutted out at least an inch and a half now, and his eight-pack looked to be symmetrically etched in granite also having increased in breadth. His formerly long, lithe arms were now swollen thick with bulky muscle and starting to show signs of intricate veining. As Sam moved his eyes downward, he understood the reason for Brad’s odd stride. His quads now showed individually with solid definition, curving outward from his narrow hips and flowing gracefully into the subtle diamond shape of his calves. But the main attraction was the bright blue speedo. The front bulged out mouth-wateringly, stretched packed, and filled to almost overflowing by Brad’s enormous endowment. So much so that the waistband was pulled down to reveal a bit of the lowest pair of his eight-pack.

Sam looked over the other guys to see that not one among them seemed to be able to settle their gaze on any one part of Brad’s anatomy. As the silence continued, Brad tried futilely to cover himself which only succeeded in causing his pecs and arms to ripple and flex.

"What’re you all staring at…!?", Brad yelled as his face reddened.

Pete, one of the school’s lesser football players, spoke up. "Holy crap, Brad, you been workin’ out…!?"

Brad’s face grew a deeper red, "Yeah, a little…"

One of the soccer players spoke next, "A ‘little’? Dude, your quads’re bigger’n mine!"

Brad was about to say something when the coach blew his whistle again. "Okay, ladies, you can trade workout tips later. For now, everyone in the pool. Twenty laps to warm up."

All through the class, Sam watched. Brad had been a top notch swimmer before, but now he moved with a speed and grace that left even Sam in his wake. Of course, some of it had to do with the fact that everyone kept watching Brad for a peek at his incredible bod. Sam could only smile.

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