"Hey Mr. Peale."
"Hey, Petey. How are you this fine evening?" I looked at my son's best friend, and held my cigar firmly in my clenched jaw, and spoke my words around it. Smoke billowed from my mouth as I surveyed the picnic and fireworks would commence within an hour. I was every gay boy's walking DILF wet dream and I knew it. Just a few hours ago I'd been walking through the woods making sure everything had been prepared just right. I was keeping my shirt open even though it was dark now. I wanted Pete to see just how built I was.
"I'm cool. Where's Devon?"
"He's actually off with some of his other friends, but I wanted to talk to you about something special. Come with me..." Petey followed me like a puppy dog. I knew how much he looked up to me. I walked him past the crowd and into a path to the lake. I stopped at a dock and sat him down on the far edge, the light from the field barely reaching us. The only sounds were me and him and the lake water gently lapping around the wooden pier legs.
"You want to try it?" I offered him my cigar.
"Oh my fucking God! Yeah, I do! My dad would kill me. I'm only 14."
"You just turned 14, didn't you?"
"That's a man in a lot of cultures. Why don't you try to take a puff. Slowly. Slowly. Don't inhale."
I watched Petey try a cigar for the first time. The look on his face of trepidation mixed with the thought of doing something dangerous. He got used to it, sniffing his nose at the acrid smoke, wooded with a hint of cocoa and dry rustling foresty leaves and burning woodsmoke. The wonderful aroma escaped his lips.
"Wow," he whispered.
"Pretty good, right?" I clapped his shoulder firmly.
"This is incredible, Mr. Peale."
"Please, call me Hank." He looked at me, surprised. He wasn't used to being on a first name basis with too many of his dad's friends.
"Okay. Hank. You can call me Pete. Petey is a little kids name ya know?"
"Yeah, well, you definitely aren't a little kid...and you won't be little for too much longer."
"Pretty soon I'll have a job, if I'm lucky. Maybe get a place of my own..." He smiled. "Course that probably won't happen." He was now obsessed with the cigar and looked at it lovingly. "Shit, this is good. This is just like I imagined but even better!"
"So you don't think you're ready to be on your own?"
"I dunno. I'm just so scared, I guess." He exhaled. He was beautiful holding a cigar. "I want to believe that it will all be okay and I'll go places. But then I look at all the guys that don't."
"What if I told you I could take care of things so that you would be the man you always wanted to be?"
"I'd say where do I sign up?"
I leaned forward and whispered gently. "You know what I think? I think you're really fucking hot."
He exhaled slowly and looked at me with desire, but taken aback.
"Holy shit," he whispered back.
"I can't do anything with you the way you are now, but once you're old enough, I am going to make all your dreams come true. I just want you to say it."
"Say how badly you want to be a man, to be with me in my house, to have all the things I have...and I'll make sure you have them."
"This is weird. I mean. Are you reading my mind?"
"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to. You know that I can do some pretty unusual things. Everything goes the way I want. Everything so far. I want you, Pete. But I can't have you just yet. I have to put some years on you first. And I can..." I stroked his cheek with my finger. "I've already had a talk with your dad. Arrangements have been made."
"I don't understand. What's going on?"
"I know. But if you take that rowboat over there, and cross the lake, your dad is waiting for you. It will all make sense. I promise you."
I took the cigar stub from him and put it in my own mouth and led him to the rowboat. I gave him a flashlight.
"See that torch over there? You can barely see it. Make your way over to it. Shouldn't take you more than twenty minutes."
"I feel like I'm dreaming."
I put an arm around him from behind. "When you're taller than me, I will be able to do this a lot more often." I gave his shoulder a little squeeze and his boat was off.
Pete made his way across the lake. He watched the pier with the light of one distant street light bouncing in the waves like a candle flame being blown out. Soon it was dark everywhere. His boat finally landed near the false warmth of the single torch on the other side of the lake. Trees everywhere. A small path. His father standing there with a flashlight.
"Dad? What's going on? I feel like I'm not surprised by any of this."
"It's part of the magic. Hank is able to do things that none of us know how to. But it works. Always works. Come on. We don't have a whole lot of time. We need to do this now. The spell makes it so you're a little more...receptive than you normally are. Makes it easier to convince you to go along with it. But believe me, you'll enjoy the ride."
We trekked through the woods through the very narrow and overgrown path. It reached a point where you would barely know there was a path. It stopped at some bushes but we went around and over a series of rocks and we were now on a secret path, down into a dark pit. At the bottom of the depression was a strange stone altar, overgrown with brambles and with two small stones on either side.
"Sit here. I'll sit on this side. The transference will begin soon. You don't have to do anything."
Pete let himself sit there while his father chanted something he couldn't understand. His mind drifted. His shirt was very tight now. His face was itching like crazy as was his entire body. His body started to stretch.
"Oh fuck me...god that feels good!" His voice was deeper now. How was that possible? His feet hurt a whole lot so he took his shoes off.
"Okay son, come on. Follow me again." He tried putting his shoes on but the water must have shrunk them, even though he didn't remember getting them wet. He couldn't fit inside them anymore.
Pete followed his dad down to the boat again. It was painful to walk without shoes. Before his father got in he realized something strange in that he was the same height as his dad now. His father handed him a bunch of new clothes. His didn't fit. "Now get in the water. We need to give you some of my memories." I did as dad asked. We both got in the water and he grabbed my head and said something and his muscles were so hard and he cradled me with them. I could have stayed there all night long, I didn't even mind being in the cold water as long as he was there, his rough stubble grazing my neck. They got in the boat. They had reached the dock again. Also the hour had changed and it was no longer nighttime.
"Daddy, I feel funny."
"I know, son. But don't you feel funny in a good way? I know I do."
My dad is so masculine and huge and good looking. But now he seemed smaller and apprehensive.
"Dad, why am I as big as you? Holy shit, I'm as tall as my own dad? My body! Holy fuck! What happened!?"
"Here you go, man. They're all yours?"
"You're letting me drive?"
"Look in the mirror."
The fog wore off. I saw a man's face staring back at me. My dad laughed and I looked back at him and he was no older than 13 or so. All of his wet clothes were hanging over his miniscule frame.
I started up the engine and grunted. At least there was no traffic at dawn in our area. Luckily it was Saturday. Didn't have to get the kid to school today but I still had to get down to the boat marina for those repairs I was supposed to do. Wait. That wasn't right. I was just a kid. What was going on?
"I guess I can call you Dad from now on," my dad said. I was just concentrating on driving. "And you can call me by my first name, Mikey."
"What else would I call you, son?" I slipped a cigar out of the dashboard and lit up. "You don't mind, do you?"
"No, Dad. I love the smell of cigars. I hope I can smoke them when I'm old enough."
"Yeah, you will. Just hold your horses. You'll get there eventually." I dropped the kid off and went to work, and then after I was done after a long day I headed over to my best friend Hank Peale's house. He was such a stud. I loved doing all the things I'd...but I'd never done anything with him, I'd only dreamed about that. I barged into his house as if I owned the place. "Peale! Hey Hank, get your ass down here! I'm ready to fuck you. Your master is in the house."
Hank came down all smiles. I stood there in the den smoking my trademark cigar, buff as fuck with my crew cut, the image of all masculinity.
"Enough talk. Get down on your knees, boy. Obey your master."
"Oh yes, sir. Right away, sir."
I had him beg for a while before taking my huge cock out. Slapped him with my dick in his face and called him a pussy and my bitch. Then made him beg to suck my cum. I love making him beg. It went on like that for hours.
I scratched my sub's head while he basked in the glow of my dominant, huge body. I smiled. He smiled. I blew my cigar smoke down to him.
"I'm so glad I chose you," he said, grasping my leg.
"Damn fucking right, you stupid pussy." I grabbed his hair. "Ready for Round 2, faggot?"
"Yes, sir. Always."
Our night of fun continued. We eventually plopped down on the coach and watched some movie with hot action heroes and he nestled up to me.
Two lives were in my head. First I was a boy. Then a man. I remember being a boy but it isn't important. It's not important that he changed me. I have a man's know how. I provide for my son now. I have a loving boyfriend who literally will do anything for me. I can't complain. And maybe some day my time will come to be the son again and my soon to be adopted stepson Devon will take my place as a true man, but that's some time away. What's important is that Hank and I are together, and that we are both gorgeous and sexy and we fuck like Olympian athletes. Everything else is details.
Some day soon I'm going to have to sit down with Hank and tell him who the real boss is, and tell him when he can use his powers and when he can't. I know he needs that. Needs someone to look up to. That someone is me.
Growing up in a small town isn't easy for some, but it was for me. Having a good dad who is now my son and a good friend's dad who is now my adoring lover is enough for this stud.