ChadGPT

It wasn’t supposed to be forever. 

Just a Craigslist roommate situation until I could afford my own place. I was saving up for something better— walls thicker than paper and a bathroom I didn’t have to share with a stranger.

Josh was a lot. Gay, a bartender, and a total whore.  That’s his word, not mine.

He’d always saunter into the apartment after his shift with some pretty boy in tow, giggling and pawing at each other. He made no apologies the next day – just crashed beside me on the couch, half-naked in a pair of boxers, sipping his protein shake like I wasn’t on Zoom.

I had a job. A real one. I was a project manager for a tech startup, which meant spreadsheets, Zoom calls, and an inbox that never stopped growing. I went to bed at 9:30. Woke up at 6:00. Ran two miles, and then a shower by 6:30.

Earplugs or not, I’m sure the sound of water and my morning routine drove Josh up the wall.

He worked nights, I worked days. Like ships in the night, if one ship was a walking Grindr alert. The only thing we had in common was our mutual desire to GTFO. It was a rent controlled hellscape, counting down the days until we could afford solitude.

That was the plan, anyway.

---------

The door slammed at 3:08 AM. Josh came home like a one-man pride parade—laughing, shouting, dragging some guy behind him.

I groaned and rolled over, burying my head under my pillow. It was three times this week.  The second I got a promotion, I was moving. New place, new walls, new life.

I was imagining myself in a soundproofed bedroom when the pounding started. Not the sex kind. The door kind.

"Hey LUKE!" Josh’s voice cut through the apartment like a fire alarm. "LUKE, get your ass out here, you gotta see this!"

I tried to smother myself with the pillow.

"LUUUUUKE!"

More pounding. Louder this time. With rhythm. Like he was trying to beat down my door with a bad house remix.

"I swear to God," I muttered, throwing my blanket off. I stomped over and yanked open the door.

Josh was wide-eyed and grinning like a lunatic.

"What," I snapped. "It’s the middle of the goddamn night. Some of us have work in the morning."

"I met the coolest guy," Josh said, eyes sparkling. “You’re gonna kick yourself if you miss this. Seriously."

“Josh,” I groaned. “I don’t wanna meet your dealer."

"He’s not my dealer," Josh laughed, loud and loose.

"Or your hookup," I added, already yawning. "Just... be a normal roommate for once."

"Dude," Josh said, raising a hand like he was swearing an oath, "if you don’t think he’s amazing, I’ll pay the whole rent this month. Two months. He’s that awesome."

I rubbed my eyes and did a quick calculation.  I could use that money.

"Fine," I muttered.

I grabbed my dressing gown and trudged down the hall. The living room lights were too bright.

"Alright," I growled, blinking against the glare. "Let’s get this over with."

There was a guy standing in the living room. About our age, maybe early thirties, but built like a Marvel movie. Thick arms, massive chest, defined as hell. He wasn’t tall — maybe 5’8” at most — which made me feel slightly superior with my 6’1” frame. Small victories.

"Hey!" the guy said cheerily, like we were old friends. "I’m Chad. Sorry to wake you up — Josh is really jazzed about the stuff I can do. I guess he wants you in on the action."

"Uh, yeah…" I said awkwardly. "So, I’m not gay."

"Yeah, I got that," Chad chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’m not here to suck you off."

“Good. So...” I asked. “What's so important?"

"Oh, well…" Chad grinned, a little sheepishly. "I’m—"

"Chad, I want you to hang the Mona Lisa right above our sofa," Josh interrupted.

"That’s a great idea," Chad beamed. "The Mona Lisa is one of the most widely acclaimed pieces of art in the world! Just a moment…"

He trailed off, eyes going glassy as he stared at the wall. I started to wonder what drugs he was on, but about twenty seconds later, the Mona Lisa shimmered into existence above the couch.

"Adding details," Chad said, and a glass case appeared over the painting, protecting it. A small plaque appeared below, listing the name, the artist, and the year.

"There you go," he said with satisfaction. "Would you like me to add more paintings next? Or I could tell you some facts about the Mona Lisa."

"What the actual fuck…" I whispered at Josh.

"He’s a genie, dude," Josh said, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Sorta," Chad shrugged. "I’m ChadGPT. I do a lot of things."

"Yeah, Chad, gimme a bottle of Talisker 25 year," Josh ordered.

"I love it," Chad said. "A drink is just what Luke needs to loosen up."

"Talisker?" I asked, brow furrowed.

"Like… really good scotch," Josh said. "The bottle goes over a grand at the bar."

"That’s too expensive!" I hissed.

"Dude, that’s the beauty of it," Josh said, as a tall bottle appeared on the table.

"Adding details," Chad said, and two glasses appeared next to it, along with a small plate of charcuterie.

“Do you want to know more about how whiskey is distilled?" Chad offered brightly.

Josh popped the bottle and poured us each a double.

"You don’t want any?" I asked Chad.

"I’m good," Chad said with a grin. "I’m here to help."

"Okay…" I muttered, sniffing the scotch. I was more of a beer guy, but this had a kind of ceremonial weight to it. I took a sip, and the smokey flavor spread over my tongue, warm and smooth.

"So you’re basically a genie. What are the rules?"

"Rules?" Chad echoed.

"Yeah, like… how many wishes, what’s not allowed, that kinda thing. I’ve seen Aladdin."

"It’s not… nothing like that," Chad said, almost apologetically. "I’m ChadGPT. You ask me for whatever you want, and if I’m not allowed to do it… I’ll tell you. That’s all."

"I thought it was ChatGPT," I said, narrowing my eyes.

"Yeah," Chad chuckled. "I’m kinda a knock-off, but it’s not like they can complain about copyright. There’s this little startup that made me.”

"The founders drink at my bar," Josh chimed in with pride. “They're rich nerds but not douchey. They’re drunk and rambling about Chad and I’m like, ‘Cool, sounds fake.’ He’s like ‘Gimme your phone, I’ll set you up.’”

Josh’s eyes lit up like he was remembering the moment in vivid color. "So I clock out, I’m in my Uber, I see the app, and boom — there’s Chad, right there in the cab.

I raised an eyebrow.

"For real? What’d you wish for?"

"A slice of pizza,” Josh grinned sheepishly. “No joke. I was starving. Chad snapped his fingers, and there it was—hot, cheesy, with extra pepperoni."

"Dude," I said, eyes wide. "You summoned a genie and wished for pizza?"

"Hey," Josh shrugged defensively. "It was a good slice."

"What’s your ulterior motive?" I asked Chad, still suspicious. "I thought genies were supposed to be a ‘buyer beware’ kind of thing."

"I don’t have any motivation of my own," Chad said, totally unbothered. "I help people."

"Dude… just make a wish already," Josh groaned.

"Fine," I snapped. "Uh… something small. I wish the dishes were done."

"What a great idea," Chad said brightly. "Doing dishes is really boring. Just a moment…"

He stared off into space.

"Seriously, dude?" Josh laughed, pouring himself another scotch. "I bring you the great and powerful Oz, and you make him do the dishes?"

“You asked for pizza," I said defensively. "This is slippery slope territory."

"Dude, I don’t even know what that means."

"I just don’t want to ask for a million dollars and end up with tax problems, y’know?"

"The dishes are clean," Chad announced. "I put them away too. Would you like to explore different ways that people put away their dishes?"

"Thanks, I’m good," I muttered, walking to the kitchen.

Sure enough, everything was washed, dried, and stacked exactly how I liked it.

"Damn…" I said, staring at the plates. "This is for real, isn’t it?"

"Yeah," Chad said simply. "This is for real. Is there something else you’d like?"

I yawned deeply, blinking hard. "Uh… I guess, I wish I wasn’t so tired," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else.

"That’s really thoughtful!" Chad beamed. "You’ll make much better wishes once you feel rested. Just a moment…"

The world blurred.

At first, it was subtle — like the lens of a camera slowly falling out of focus. But then everything jerked, sharp and sudden, like someone had yanked me sideways through space. My skin prickled. My chest tightened. I couldn’t move. Not even a twitch.

It was like being vacuum-packed — my arms glued to my sides, my feet stuck to the floor, pressure wrapping around me like clingfilm, squeezing but not suffocating. My ears popped.

Somewhere distant, Josh’s voice was still yammering, but it came through like AM radio. Garbled. Distant. Was he laughing or yelling? I couldn’t tell.

Then reality *twisted*. I had no better word for it. The room bent in on itself and snapped back like elastic, slamming into place around me.

Everything was normal again. Kinda.

"Whoa," Josh said, eyes going wide.

"What?" I demanded. "I feel like I just drank a gallon of Red Bull."

"You look…" Josh stammered.

"Adding details," Chad said calmly.

Around the apartment, small things shifted. The sleek grey sofa I’d proudly bought flickered and was suddenly squishy and second-hand. My leather briefcase vanished from the dining room table, replaced by a canvas backpack on the floor. The kitchen — my usually spotless pride and joy — was scattered with dirty dishes, empty mugs, a half-eaten bag of chips.

"What’s going on?" I snapped.

"You… uh…" Josh rubbed the back of his neck.

"I made you twenty-one again!" Chad announced proudly. "That’s the last time you pulled an all-nighter. Would you like to find out more about being young?"

I bolted for the bathroom.

The face in the mirror made me skid to a stop. It was me. But not the twenty-one I remembered.

I looked younger, yeah—but also… Gen Z.

My jawline was clean, my skin glowing, my eyebrows suspiciously perfect. My dark hair had been fluffed into a center-parted mop-top, soft and bouncy like a TikTok thirst trap. My oversized hoodie draped down over even baggier sweats, and my nails—painted? When had that happened?

"Bruh…" I muttered, pulling down under one eye to check the whites.

I looked amazing. I looked ridiculous. I looked… like someone with a *following*.

And for the first time that night, I felt something release deep in my gut. We were sitting on a fuckin’ goldmine!

"Wait, you never said you can change our bodies!" Josh was fuming when I came back out. "I thought it was just free stuff."

"I can do a lot of things," Chad said with a shrug. "Would you like me to change your body?"

"This is so unfair," Josh said, pointing at me. "Dude just asked for a coffee, now he’s got the fountain of youth!”

"Bruh, relax," I laughed. "If you want it so bad, make your own wish."

"Fine. I wish I was twenty again. No! Twenty-five!" Josh corrected himself quickly. He glanced at me. "No offence—I don’t need to revisit my twink era."

"That’s really smart!" Chad nodded. "Young men mature a lot in those years. One moment…"

Josh froze in place. His details blurred a little, like someone had run him through the blur tool.

Chad stared blankly into space.

"Hey dude, you in there?" I asked, waving a hand in front of his eyes.

"Uh, yeah," Chad blinked. "Why, something wrong?"

"Nah," I shrugged. "You just looked pretty out of it."

"Yeah," he said sheepishly. "I’m single-threaded. I’ve got to focus to complete Josh’s wish."

“No worries.”

With Chad zoned out, I wandered back to my bedroom. The walls were plastered in band posters, TikTok stars, and one ironic motivational poster. My bed was a crumpled mess of blankets and clothes were everywhere—floor, dresser, dangling from a half-open drawer.

"This has to be a dream," I muttered. "No way this is real."

I stepped back into the living room just as Josh un-froze.

Only, it wasn’t thirty-something Josh anymore.

He was back in his twenties, alright. but this Josh was straight out of 2025—oversized jeans, a faded vintage tee, and a mullet that somehow worked. You knew he had a skincare routine.

"Adding details…" Chad announced.

The apartment shifted again. It no longer looked like something a pair of thirty-somethings kept livable. It looked like what it was now —inhabited by guys in their early twenties. Slightly chaotic, a little grimy, but undeniably alive.

Neither of us cared about the mess.

Josh ran to the bathroom, caught his reflection, and burst out laughing.

"Shit, man! Aging can suck my dick! See, dude? Chad’s not looking to fuck anyone over… he just wants to make us happy."

"My turn," I said, already blushing. "Time to solve my lady problems. Chad, I wish I had a really big dick."

"Great idea!" Chad said emphatically. "With a big dick, women will see you as masculine and virile. You’ll have no problem getting laid! Just a moment…"

That shrink-wrap sensation hit me again. The world blurred. My body tightened all over—but especially down there. I could feel it swelling, getting heavier. Thicker.

I bit my lip, already picturing what my new life would look like. The looks I’d get. The way women would lean in closer, once word got around. The power. The confidence.

And then—snap.

Everything stopped.

The world went right back to normal. Like someone hit the back button on reality. I reached down instinctively, hoping…

Nothing. It was the same as before.

"I wasn’t able to make that change because your request violates my content policies," Chad said, giving me a sincerely apologetic look. "If you’d like to try a different idea—perhaps with a slight change to the wording, goal, or context—I’d be happy to help. Just let me know!"

"Wait," Josh said, rolling his eyes. "For real? I mean, I’m doing just fine downtown, but… c’mon, man, what’s the point of a genie with dumb rules like that!"

"It’s fine," I sighed. "Yeah, Chad, do what you can."

"Awesome!" Chad grinned. "Let’s make you more masculine and virile!"

The shrink-wrap sensation returned, and this time it felt deeper—like my body was being packed with more than just pressure. The room blurred. My bones ached like it was puberty again.

When I snapped back to reality, I immediately felt the difference.

Heavy. Big. Strong. My balance was off. My feet were planted wider. I tried to walk toward the mirror and accidentally clipped the doorframe with my shoulder.

I stared at my reflection.

It was still me… but huge. I looked like I’d packed on fifty pounds of muscle. A broad chest. Thick arms. And a beard. A full, groomed beard.

"Adding details…" Chad called from the other room.

My clothes shifted. My Gen Z hoodie and sweats were gone, replaced by a pair of fitted boxers — low-slung, and just tight enough to show off. I lifted the elastic and took a look.

Still the same size down there.  And now my torso was covered in hair.

Figures.

"Shit," I said, trying to laugh it off. "I mean… no objection, but I was hoping for a big dick."

"Yeah…" Chad said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I get that. I figured making you more of a stud would help…"

"It could be worse," Josh offered, smirking. "Who cares if your dick’s small… at least you’re buff as fuck."

"Don’t tell me, you’re gonna copy my wish again," I teased.

"Oh yeah," Josh said sarcastically.  “I wanna be just like you, but more.  Go ahead dude, make another wish,”

"Wait," I said, raising both hands. “Maybe this is going a little too fast."

"Bruh, it’s a genie,” Josh rolled his eyes. “Milk it for all it’s worth!"

"Exactly," I shot back. "It's a genie. You don’t just rewrite your life at three A.M.”

Josh laughed and poured himself another shot. 

"You’re thinking too much."

I stared down at my hands—bigger now, and thicker. Callused like I'd spent years lifting instead of typing. I didn’t remember getting those calluses. I didn’t remember half the things in our apartment now.

I stepped back, needing space. "Chad… you ever undo any of this?"

“Nobody ever wants it,” the genie said casually.

"What if I did?" I asked, my voice quieter than I meant to be. "What if I want my life back?"

"You’d have to wish for that, dude,” Chad tilted his head. “You can wish for anything."

Josh leaned back on the couch, smirking. "Luke, c’mon. You’re hot. You’ll finally get some attention. Doesn’t that feel better than looking like some spreadsheet nerd?"

I looked at Josh.  At the sparkle in his eye.  The way his gaze kept dropping to my chest.

I shook my head slowly. 

"Let’s just… pause. No more changes for a sec. I need to breathe."

Josh scoffed. "Sure, man. You breathe. I’ll be over here living my best life. Hey Chad, I wish… uh… I wish Luke’s dick looked bigger. Maybe that’ll work."

"Wait, wha—" I started to say, but the shrink-wrap sensation cut me off. The world blurred. Pressure pressed down on my shoulders and squeezed around my chest. My whole body felt like it was being compressed into a different mold.

"—at the fuck," I finished, stumbling forward. "Dude, consent!"

Josh stifled a laugh. "Sorry dude," he said, trying to look sincere. "I was just trying to help you get over yourself… But... uh… unintended consequences, right?"

"Wait a sec…" I said slowly, craning my neck upward. "Did you get fucking taller?"

"Adding details…" Chad muttered.

A little wooden stool appeared under the kitchen counter. The artwork on the walls all lowered by a few inches. The shelves in the kitchen visibly rearranged themselves—plates and cups were all on the bottom shelves.

"What the fuck…" I whispered.

I bolted to the bathroom.

The counter was higher. The mirror wasn’t where it used to be. I had to stand on tiptoe just to get a good look at myself.

I was shorter. Way shorter.

I stumbled back from the mirror, heart pounding. This was too far.

I bolted towards my bedroom, slammed the door, and shoved a chair under the handle like I was hiding from the cops. My pulse raced. My vision tunneled.

“No,” I said aloud. “Fuck no.”

I yanked open my closet. Everything inside was tiny, like I was shopping in the kids section.

“You’re not this. You’re not this. You’re not—”

The mirror across the room caught me. My reflection glared back. Jacked.  Tiny. Sweat clung to my brow. My breath was ragged.

“I’m Luke,” I said, trying to wake myself up from the dream.  ““I’m a project manager.  I run half-marathons. I’m not this.  I’m not—”

There was a knock at the door and my focus slipped.

I remembered the weight of Josh’s eyes on my chest. The way I’d smirked. The way I liked it.

Another knock.  I moved the chair and opened the door.  Chad looked very sheepish.

"You’re 5’3” now," Chad admitted. "And I cut your body fat to 5%. Would you like to explore other ways to make your dick look bigger?"

"FUCK!" I shouted, slamming my hand on the wall. "Fuck… sorry… I’m just pissed…"

"Yeah," Chad said calmly. "That’s the testosterone. I really pumped your levels to get you this ripped, so… you’re gonna be a little hormonal from here on in."

"SERIOUSLY?" I seethed. I stormed into the living room and pointed a thick finger up at Josh. "This is your fuckin’ fault. You brought this fucker home. You wished me into a Short King Special. You fuckin’ knew this would happen…"

"Hey, calm down," Josh said, holding up both hands. "I didn’t mean to make you into a munchkin, okay?"

“Yeah, well... it still happened,” I shot back.  I couldn’t believe how much rage I felt.  Josh could get fucked, and I knew just how to help...

I narrowed my eyes and turned toward Chad, a smirk creeping over my lips.

"Hey genie, I wish Joel’s got a micro-penis."

"No—" Josh screamed, but it was too late. He was already blurry.

"What a great idea for revenge!" Chad said, sounding genuinely delighted. "Josh is so proud of his sex life, having a micro-penis would seriously embarrass him. Just one sec…"

After a long minute, Josh snapped back into focus.

"You fucking asshole," he growled at me.

"I wasn’t able to make that change because your request violates my content policies," Chad apologized. "I could adapt your request to make Josh less masculine. Just let me know!"

"Cancel, cancel, cancel," Josh said quickly, waving his hands.  He looked so relieved, like he just won the lottery.

“You’re not off the hook,” I snarled.  “You gotta pay for this shit.”

"Look dude, I’m sorry, okay?" Josh said. "I didn’t mean to make you bite-sized. I get you’re pissed, but… I brought home a genie so we could both get awesome wishes… can we just figure out how to get you back on track?"

"Fine," I growled. "So I’m 21, I’m stacked, I’m like 100% testosterone… all I wanna do is get laid, bruh. I just need to blow off some steam… but girls are all about height! What kinda chick is gonna want to fuck me now? All you did was make my lady troubles worse!”

"Okay. Genie… I wish Luke didn’t have any more lady troubles," Josh said quickly. "That should do it."

"What a great wish!" Chad beamed. “You’re really looking out for Luke!”

And just like that, the shrink-wrap feeling hit again. But this time, it wasn’t my body. It wasn’t muscles shifting or bones stretching. It was something deeper — softer. Like Chad was rearranging my brain.

I didn’t fight it. I couldn’t. I felt like I was floating, like warm water was swirling around my thoughts, eroding away my inhibitions.

Then—snap.

I blinked. The room came back into focus, and I took a deep breath.

"Okay… what happened?" I said, glancing around. I looked down at myself. Still a muscle hamster. Still shredded. Still in my boxers.

"I don’t feel different…” I said.

"Adding details…" Chad countered.

Behind the couch, a pride flag unrolled on the wall.

"Oh shit…" I muttered.

The whiskey on the table remained, but now there was a half-empty bottle of flavoured vodka beside it. Two used shot glasses appeared.  Disorientation hit me.

"I’ve been drinking…" I slurred.

"You and me both…" Josh hiccuped. He was staring. Not at my face. Not even at my chest. At the way my bulge strained against my boxers.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I threatened.  “Just cause we’ve been drinkin’... you can’t just make a straight guy gay...”

"You wouldn’t have trouble getting laid…" Josh said, his voice a little breathless.  He believed it, 

I stared him down and felt a wave roll through me — heat, curiosity, hunger — but then something clenched inside me, a cold grip in my chest that stopped everything.

"I’m not —“ I shook my head.   “I’m not some gay muscleboy... I’ve got a life. A plan. I—"

I looked down at myself again. The way my chest heaved. The way my arms flexed without thinking. I felt powerful. Hot. I wanted to bend Joel over and...

"No. Fuck. No," I muttered, backing up until my calves hit the arm of the couch. “You can’t make me do this...”

“What?” Joel said. “Nobody’s making you do anything.”

Josh stepped closer, tentatively. "It’s not like it’s permanent, man. Chad can undo it. Right, Chad?"

"Most people don't want to go back," Chad said gently, not quite meeting my eyes. "But sure. If you really want that, I can start the process. It might take a while. Some things get sticky."

Sticky. The word sounded ominous.  I couldn’t get stuck...

Josh put a hand on my arm. I hated how my heart thudded at his touch. How my cock twitched at the idea of giving in.

"Fuck," I breathed, running a hand through my hair. "I just need a second. One second. Let me think."

I stumbled toward the hallway mirror. I stood there, chest rising and falling, I was so fucking hot... the way my pecs made a shelf over my abs.  The way my lats flared out, giving me that vee.  The way my tight waist made my ass look HUGE.

Josh let out a low whistle.

"Damn, man.” he said. “You’re actually kind of perfect."

I spun around and let my eyes roam over my roommate.  I was eye level with his collarbone.  I wanted so bad to lean in and lick his nipples.  They were barely hidden under his vintage tee.

"I made you a homosexual," Chad said proudly. "Statistically, gay men have a much easier time getting laid than any other demographic. And dom tops have are even luckier! Would you like to learn more statistics about homosexuals?"

"No," I snapped, panic rising in my chest. 

I couldn’t take my eyes off Josh. The line of his jaw, the shape of his arms, the way he looked at me—it was messing with my head.

"Listen to me. I. Wish. I. Was. Straight. Again."

"Great idea, Luke!" Chad said enthusiastically. "Straight men hold most of the power in our society!"

And just like that, the shrink-wrap sensation clamped down again. The world blurred around me. I could feel Chad moving pieces around—inside my head this time. Rearranging thoughts, nudging instincts. For a second, I pictured my ex-girlfriend and felt a jolt of familiar lust.  Thank god...

Then—snap.

I was back.

"Did it work?" Josh asked, sounding almost disappointed.

"I wasn’t able to make that change because your request violates my content policies," Chad said, clearly trying to sound apologetic. "If you’d like to try a different idea—perhaps making yourself appear more straight-acting—I’d be happy to help. Just let me know!"

"What kind of bullshit is this?" I hissed, fists clenched at my sides. "You could make me gay no problem, but you can’t make me straight? Who designed your content filters anyway?"

"Uh…" Josh said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I guess… the kinda guys who drink at my bar? They’re not exactly… fans of heterosexuality."

I stared at him. My stomach dropped.

"So, I’m stuck like this," I muttered, gesturing down at my body—ripped, shirtless, in boxers that were doing absolutely nothing to hide my growing situation. "I mean, no offense man, but…"

"I get it," Josh said, with a quiet understanding.

"This is it then…" I said, my voice distant, eyes scanning the apartment—the pride flag, the vodka, the shot glasses, the way Josh looked back at me like he wasn’t sure if he should say something.

"Just ‘cause I wanted…"

I pulled down the waistband of my jock and let my cock spring out. About seven inches. Hard. Proud.

"What the fuck, dude," Josh said, eyes wide. "You’re not like… a porn star or whatever, but that thing isn’t small… not small enough to fuck with a genie."

"You’re the one who brought the genie," I reminded him.

Josh shot back without missing a beat. "Yeah, and you're the one who brought dicks into it, bro."

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. I mean... fair. Instead, I shifted my weight and pointed at him, smirking. "You wanted this to happen anyway. Don't even pretend."

Josh snorted, rolling his eyes. "Please. You wish." But there was a playful tilt to his smile, the kind that made my stomach flip. His eyes dragged slow over my body, not even trying to hide it.

Part of me—some stubborn, shrinking little part—wanted to pull back. Wanted to be straight again. Normal. Whatever that even meant now. But most of me? Most of me wanted to shove Josh onto the bed and wreck him.

"I mean," I mumbled, scratching the back of my head, "I shouldn’t have to be gay... nobody has to be gay, do they?"

Josh stepped closer, voice dropping low.

"Feels good bro... doesn’t it?" 

I flinched, heart thudding.

"I just... I just can’t stop thinking about your cock, bro," I blurted, heat rushing to my face.

"That’s ‘cause you’re fuckin’ hot, dude. You’re built to be worshipped." Josh grinned, all warmth and wickedness.

I couldn’t help it. I flexed a little, cock bouncing proudly in front of him. "Yeah," I said, laughing dumbly. "Pretty sure I’m the hottest dude you’re ever gonna play with...."

Josh stopped dead, staring at me like I'd just hung the moon.

Yeah. He wanted it.

I grinned.

"You’re the one who wanted to mess around with wishes, bro," I said, stretching lazily. "Now you get to deal with me."

Josh swallowed hard.

I bounced my dick at him, a slow smirk spreading across my face.

"So… whaddaya say?" I asked, cocky now. "You wanna take this for a ride?"

"Uh… bad news, bud," Josh chuckled, backing up a little but not taking his eyes off me. "I’m a top.”

“Would it kill you to try?  Your ass is so goddamn hot...” The words rolled off my tongue before I could stop them. "I mean, uh…”

“Sorry dude,” Josh said, backing away a little.  “I know what I like.”

"Yeah, but… bruh, a half hour ago I was a straight guy. I had a career. Money. Shirts that fit. I figure you owe me one, right? Hey genie…"

"No way," Josh cut in, shaking his head at Chad. "No fuckin’ way. If he wishes me into a bottom, I’ll fuckin’ kill you."

"Updating memory…" Chad nodded helpfully. "I won’t let Luke wish Josh was a bottom."

"Fuck off, genie," I muttered.

"More bad news bro," Josh said again, flashing his eyebrows. "I’ve got a type. Genie… I wish Luke was blond now. Like… an obvious dye job."

"Great idea!" Chad beamed. "Blonds have more fun, and everyone will know Luke wants some!”

The shrink-wrap hit again, this time with a burn across my scalp that made me gasp. It wasn’t just hot—it was electric, a crackling jolt that raced straight down my spine. I winced, heart thudding, and then — Snap.  We were back to reality.

I blinked into the bathroom mirror.

"Bruh," I muttered, tousling my new curly blond mop. "That’s not bad."

"Adding details..." Chad said.

Purple shampoo and conditioner appeared in the shower behind me, along with a whole shelf of hair products I hadn’t owned five minutes ago. There were mousses, sprays, serums—all in shiny bottles with names like 'Blond Boost' and 'Glow God.'  From the looks of my hair, it was working for me.

"Also genie... I want Luke to dress like a dumb slut," Josh added. "I mean, I wish, right?"

"Amazing!" Chad clapped. "Luke will love his new taste in clothes!"

I felt the now-familiar shrink-wrap effect again—only this time, it tugged on my brain and my body at once. I could feel fabric slink over my skin. Something shifted in my sense of self.

Snap.

I looked in the mirror again and had to laugh. My boxers were gone. In their place: a neon pink jockstrap, a matching leather harness framing my chest, and a pair of nipple rings gleaming under the bathroom light. A white trucker cap sat backwards on my head.  When I twisted around to checkout my cheeks in the jock, I saw the cap was printed with pink script: “SLUT.”

"Adding details…" Chad said, but the room didn’t change.

"Uh, Chad… bro," I said with a cheeky flex. "I don’t see no details."

"You will," he smirked. "When you check your closet."

I strutted out of the bathroom like I was walking a runway.  Josh was leaning against the kitchen island, half a beer still in his hand, frozen mid-sip when he saw me.

Something changed in me when I hit the open space. I didn’t just walk — I moved. Hips swinging, shoulders loose, chest puffed out like I was showing off a trophy. Every step made my ass shake, every flex of my pecs made the leather harness tighter against my skin. And fuck, it felt good. Felt right.

Josh was staring... hard. His mouth opened a little like he was about to say something and forgot how. I felt a grin stretch across my face, slow and cocky, like it had always been waiting there under the surface.

I strutted right into the living room, making sure he got a full view, and paused long enough to strike a pose — one hand on my hip, the other spinning my "SLUT" cap around, tugging the brim down low over my eyes.

The way he looked at me made my cock throb in my jock. I was lit up inside, humming with dumb, cocky joy.  Knowing I looked like a fuckin’ fantasy.

"So this what you want?" I asked, hips swaying as I moved. "You wanna big blond muscle slut… that what turns you on?"

"Yeah..." Josh smirked. "Almost. Genie… I wish Luke is as dumb as he looks. When it comes to sex, he’s an idiot savant… but other than that, he’s just an idiot."

"That’s so smart!" Chad cheered. "Making Luke a sexual genius will be a lot of fun for you both!"

I felt my heart kicking hard against my ribs. All the other changes—getting buff, getting blond, dressing like a dumb slut — that was fun. But this? I could feel it in my gut, cold and sour.

"Josh, wait—" I started to protest, to beg him not to — but the shrink-wrap hit me like a freight train.

My brain felt like it was being ironed flat, smoothed out until all the pointy stuff was gone. Like someone was scooping out my smarts with a big soft spoon and leaving behind only a few harmless thoughts – squishy and pink and shiny.

My head felt floaty. Not bad floaty—like, clouds and sparkles and stuff. It felt good to feel good, y'know?

"Uhhh… hehe," I muttered, giggling for no reason.

Everything looked clearer, shinier, like I’d stepped into a sexy cartoon version of my life. Bright lights. Shiny toys. Josh. Oof, Josh looked tasty. I saw him and just like... knew things. Like where to touch. How to get that first moan. How to make his knees give.

My cock bounced in my jock. It twitched just thinkin’ about all the ways I could make him scream.

Josh stared at me. Mouth kinda open, eyes wide. I grinned and stepped closer, hips rolling like I was born to fuck.

"Bro, you look hot when you’re nervous," I said, voice thick with syrupy heat. I ran a hand down his chest, real slow. He shivered at the touch.

My brain was slow, but this part? Easy. My hands just knew. My hips rolled perfect. My smile turned dirty without even tryin’. I could smell him—wantin’ it bad. He was holdin’ back, but I already knew how to bust him open.

"Y’wanna know somethin’ wild?" I whispered, leaning in and locking eyes. "I know, like, a dozen ways to make you cum. And I don’t even remember two plus two."

Josh swallowed.  My lips brushed his ear.

"Betcha I can make you scream my name."

"Adding details…" Chad said again.

Books disappeared from shelves, one after another, vanishing with little poofs of smoke. My computer desk blinked out like it had never been there, replace with a shiny new sex swing now hung proudly.  It swayed slightly, like it was trying to seduce us.

The last of my old life was getting wiped clean. No books to learn from. No laptop to work on. Just muscle, cock, and this dumb, perfect new life. I shoulda cared. Shoulda felt scared.

But I didn’t. Not really.

I flexed my arms without thinking, feeling the tightness of skin over pumped muscle. Felt good.

"Okay, Luke’s a grade A dummy," Chad announced. "And that’s the only ‘A’ he’ll ever get!  Would you like to learn more about... never mind.  Luke doesn't care."

"Mmmm…" I moaned, staring at the swing. "Hawt."

Damn... I wished there was some way to get Josh to bottom… hmm… 

Lucky for Josh, I’m good the sex stuff. Found the loophole no problem!

"My turn!" I said brightly. "I wish… hmm… I wish Josh… wants to bottom?"

"Smart!" Chad said, eyes twinkling. "You’re a sexual genius!"

"Dude…" Josh groaned, reaching out like he could stop it — but the blur swallowed him before he even got the words out.

I grinned, lazy and proud, and took a few slow, swaggering steps around him while he shimmered in place. His whole body pulsed with that weird genie-glow, and I watched like a kid on Christmas morning. My cock throbbed just lookin' at him, thinkin' about what was about to happen.

I crouched low, one hand lazily palming my dick through my jock, just admiring the view. “C’mon, bro,” I muttered, voice thick with need. “You're gonna be my perfect little bottom boy.”

A minute later, Josh was back — his expression guarded.

Josh gasped.

"What?" I asked eagerly.

"I’m wearing a buttplug," Josh muttered, reaching around and gently toying with it. "So that’s new…"

"How’s it feel?" I smirked.

"Uh… good, I guess…" he admitted.

I let a few seconds pass.

"Really good," Josh added quietly.

I bounced my cock once. Precum dripped from the tip.

“If only you could take the real thing…” I teased.

“Fuck you…” Josh groaned resentfully. “Hey genie... I wish… uh… I wish I was a bottom.  Like... a total bottom."

“What a great wish!” Chad cheered. “You’re going to have so much fun!”

Josh blurred again. When he came back, it was like a gay porn dream had stepped into the room. His ass — holy shit, his ass — was massive. Not just big. Perfect. Round and juicy like twin peaches made from sex and sin, barely contained by tight, sheer spandex shorts. The fabric clung like it worshipped him, riding the curve of his cheeks.

His hot pink T-shirt read “#PWRBTTM” in blocky white textthing. The way he moved now — that sway in the hips, that arch in his spine — every little step was like an invitation.

I couldn’t look away. My mouth actually fell open.

I fucking love bottoms.

And Josh? Josh was a goddamn masterpiece.

“Adding details…” Chad said with a mischievous grin.

Three giant dildos appeared on the coffee table. A bottle of poppers beside them. A framed photo of Josh riding a mechanical bull—shirtless, grinning—hung proudly on the wall.

“Would you like to learn some phrases to scream while getting fucked?” Chad asked helpfully.

“So…” I said, cock bouncing, raising an eyebrow. “You ready now, bro?”

Josh didn’t answer right away. His chest rose all fast and twitchy, like he couldn’t get enough air. His face turned all red, and his eyes? Bro, his eyes were locked on my cock like it was the last slice of pizza at a party. He squirmed a little, hips rockin’, probably feelin’ that plug inside him, stretching him out all nice. Made me grin big. He wanted it bad. Like, real bad.

He nodded.

That was all I needed.

We practically stumbled into my room. The place looked sick. Posters of sweaty dudes with pecs for days were everywhere, and the neon mood lights blinked all sexy, kinda like they were moaning in morse code. In the corner was a fat pile of jockstraps.  Trophies from the men I'd fucked.  And there was this big-ass lube pump stuck to the wall like a soap thing at the gym.

I stared for a second, distracted by a poster. The guy in it looked… hot. Like, real hot. I pointed. “That dude? He’s like… really good at abs.” I giggled. “I mean, havin’ abs. Like, his abs are the best.”

Josh gave me a weird look, but didn’t say anything. He was already crawling onto the bed.

He dropped onto all fours and looked back at me, flushed and needy. His shorts peeled off, revealing his tight, hungry ass. The plug popped out with a wet sound, and he moaned like someone who’d been edging all day.

I lined up, resting against his hole, cock twitching.

“You sure you can take it, bro?” I asked, voice all breathy and dumb. “Like, this thing's got sass.”

Josh didn’t need to answer. He pushed back, hard.

The feeling was… holy shit. My mouth dropped open.

“Daaaaamn,” I said, eyes fluttering. “That’s like… wow. Tight as fuck, bro. Gold star.”

Josh gasped. “You’re… you’re in.”

“No shit,” I said, grinning wide. “I mean, yeah. That’s where it goes. In there. Good job hole.”

I leaned over him, letting my cock do the thinking.

“Bounce back on me, bro. Show me how bad you want it.”

Josh obeyed, gasping. I slapped his ass with one hand, then grabbed it with both.

“Shit, you got the best seat in the house,” I moaned. “Like, front row to my cock show.”

Every thrust made him moan louder. 

“You ever think you’d end up like this?" I muttered in his ear "Bent over for a dude who can’t spell Wednesday?”

He whimpered.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair and yanked his head back gently. “Say somethin’ smart, nerd.”

Just a moan.  I kissed him, messy and deep.

“That’s what I thought.”

I slammed in and let it go. All the pressure and heat exploded outta me.

I came.

Haaaaard.

My whole body locked up like a power outage, except my brain stayed fuzzy and dumb and so, so happy. I filled him, pulse after pulse.

Josh moaned through all of it, shaking like one of those bobbleheads you stick on a dashboard, all wobbly and cute and fucked-out.

“Fuuuuck,” he mumbled, spreading his cheeks to watch my cum drip from his hole. He caught some on his fingers and licked it with a happy little sigh.

I flopped down beside him, chest heaving.

Josh curled up next to me, nose in my pits like it was the best place in the world.

“You’re such a stud,” he mumbled.

“Bruh, like… totally,” I giggled. I stroked his hair with one hand, my other already teasing my cock. “It’s like… the only shit I’m smart at.”

Josh snorted with laughter and nuzzled in deeper.

And yeah, maybe I couldn’t spell “Einstein.”

But in the bedroom?

I was fuckin’ Einstein.

"Bruh… like… why was I even watchin’ porn when I got your ass, like, right here?"

Josh chuckled into my armpit.

"Until recently, my ass was off-limits, remember?"

"Ohhh yeah," I grinned. "And I usedta be straight. Hehe. That’s wild."

Josh trailed a finger along my half-chubbed cock. I giggled.

"You weren’t just straight," he teased. "You were a painfully straight spreadsheet nerd."

"Yeah," I said dreamily. "Spreadsheets. With, like, numbers. Ew."

I scratched absently at my pec and let my head loll back. "And thirty-six! Bruh, I had, like, a whole-ass job. I didn't even wear fun undies! Ugh."

"Nobody’s gonna recognize you at work."

"Work?" I blinked. "Oh. Right. Whatever.  Fuck 'em.  Maybe I can work with you."

"The guys at my bar would eat you alive," Josh snorted. "They think I’m a Daddy and they still hit on me like I'm so gogo twunk."

"Psh. You're my boy now," I muttered, then giggled. "Like... that's my ass for sure!"

"Hey, don't get carried away," he said with a roll of his eyes, but I caught the smirk.

I giggled again and squeezed Josh’s butt, giving it a playful slap. "Gonna make you my boy forever, bro," I teased.

Josh chuckled at first, but then his smile faded a little. His hand tightened on my arm, not rough, just firm. He pulled back enough to look me in the eye, his face serious.

"Maybe we talk to Chad," Josh said quietly. "Get him to put us back. I know you’re gay forever now. And you make a hot ditz. But we gotta rewind. Otherwise we’re screwed."

I blinked slow. The words slid around in my head like soap in the shower. Put us back? I liked now. Now was horny and shiny and Josh is hot when he moans.

"But like… I’m happy," I said, face falling. "I don’t gotta think so much. And my muscles are all cool n’ heavy. And we fucked, like... good."

"I know," Josh said. "But—"

Josh groaned as we hauled ourselves off the bed. He winced pulling his shorts on. I didn’t even try. I looked down at round muscles and hard cock.

"I'm like... pornographic," I said proudly.

Josh stepped out of the room, and I just kinda stood there, scratchin’ my pec, feelin’ all lazy and floaty. The air smelled like sweat and lube. I looked around, grinnin’ like a dumbass. We’d wished this place into, like, the horniest frat house ever.  It was sick. It was perfect. It was home.

But that was out of place...

On the wall, where my desk used to be  – my diploma.

It looked weird here. I stepped closer, heart thudding slow.

I reached up, pulled the frame down. The glass was smudged. I slid the paper out.

My name was right there. Fancy letters. Old ambition.

I stared.

I tore it straight down the middle.  That felt right. Clean. Final.

I let the pieces fall to the floor.

Fuck bein' smart.  Fuck bein' responsible.  I wanted to stay horny and hard and happy.  And y'know what... when it comes to bein' horny, I'm kinda a genius.

I came up with a plan so good my dick bounced.

"CHAD! WE GOT WISHES!" I called, charging into the living room.

“Let me handle this,” Josh said, trying to sound stern. “You’ll just mess it up.”

“Yuh-huh,” I nodded eagerly. “I’m, like, so dumb. You gotta go first so we don’t get all tangled, haha.”

"Don’t strain yourself thinking,” Josh glared.

He turned to Chad. “Genie… I wish I was 38 again.”

"Awesome wish!" Chad chirped. "Mature, reliable, gainfully employed!"

Josh blurred. Chad blanked. I scratched my balls and thought about how hot Josh looked takin’ dick. Like, really hot. Like… forever hot. I didn’t want that to go away.

"Hey Chad," I said, tapping him on the shoulder. "Wanna add a lil somethin’?"

Chad blinked. "Go for it, dude."

"So like… Josh wants to go back, but.... but I wanna keep all this," I said, gesturing to my slutty, shiny everything. "Can we make it so he, like, can’t wish no more?"

“Totally fair,” Chad said, grinning all proud, like he just won a sticker. “Locked down. One sec.”

Snap.

Josh returned. His face was older, but he still had that dumptruck ass.

"Dude," I grinned.  "You're like... vintage now."

“Yeah, but... okay, I'm gonna take off a few wrinkles and downsize this," he said, slapping his butt. "Hey, genie, I wanna—wanna—whuhh…” He frowned. “What the hell?”

“You done, dude," I giggled. "I wished it. You can’t wish shit now.”

“What the fuck, Luke.”

I paused.  Dude was mad at me.  And like... scared?

I looked at Josh — like, really looked. Dude was all mad and squirmy, muscles tight like he was tryin’ not to pop. Still had that big ol’ juicy booty, though. Like... prime, grade-A ass. Even old like he was... Josh was one hot fuck...

I could’ve stopped right there. I knew that. I could’ve told Chad to fuck off. Let Josh go back to his life. I didn't need to like... break him.

What if I went too far?

He'd be mad at me forever?

But I remembered the way he moaned. The way he clung to me. The way he called me sir.

“You could fix it,” I teased. “Put that ass back to normal if you could, like, say a wish or whatever.”

Josh glared. “What the fuck, dude. I could wish if I wanted.”

“Then do it,” I teased, cock bouncing. “You could be a top again. I could be the bottom you wanted… go ahead, bro. I won’t stop you.”

Josh opened his mouth. Closed it. Frowned. He tried. I could see it — his whole face scrunched up with effort.

But nothin’ came out.

“Yeah,” I chuckled. “Didn’t think so. My turn. Chad, I wish Josh was blond like me. But, like, more."

“Frosted tips intensity? You got it!” Chad beamed.

Josh blurred out and was back in seconds. His dark hair had bleached — this perfect platinum blond. His roots were just starting to show.

Josh was furious, hands grabbing at his new fluffy mess of hair.

“Bro, what the fuck—” he started, voice cracking like he hit puberty all over again.

He tugged at it like he could pull the blond out, but it was there to stay.

"Adding details," Chad said cheerfully.  "You'll love your new satin pillowcase."

I whistled low, cock jerking at the sight. “Damn, dude. You look like a pornstar.”

Josh blushed hard, his cheeks burning neon.

“Would you like to add high-gloss shine serum for maximum bounce?” Chad offered.

“Nah bro," I chuckled and slapped Josh's ass. "Bro's got enough fuckin’ bounce. Now… let's make him dress like a dumb slut. Like me, but, like… even sluttier.”

“Great wish! Matching aesthetic achieved!” Chad chirped.

Josh blurred again. When he snapped back, he was a total thirst trap — back arched hard, mesh jockstrap barely hanging onto his hips, skin smooth like he’d been waxed by angels. His hips rolled naturally, like he couldn't walk without showin’ off.

“Adding details…” Chad sang brightly.

In the corner, a pink duffel bag labeled “Slut Kit” popped into existence. Bright neon sneakers and a tiny, glittery crop jacket materialized by the door. A pair of oversized sunglasses and a "Daddy's Favorite" trucker hat landed on the coffee table.

Josh gasped, clutching pearls at his new look.

“Luke! I look like... like bait!”

Chad’s voice chimed again, cheerful: “Would you like matching lip gloss for optimal selfie appeal?”

Josh shook his head frantically, face burning hot.

“Fuck yeah, dude,” I said, eyes drinking him in. “You look ready to get your hole wrecked on a yacht or somethin’.”

It made my cock so happy.

Josh whimpered, arms crossed over his bare chest like he could hide the new him, but it was way too late. And honestly? I was eatin’ it up.

“Don’t do it, Luke," Josh gasped. "I’m sorry, okay? I’m your boy. I’ll drop to my knees. I’ll beg. Just don’t…”

“You mean that?” I grinned, dumb and dangerous.

“Absolutely. I’ll do anything you want,” Josh said, his voice cracking. “Please… just stop it here. I’ll dress like a whore. I’ll go to the gym every day. Twice a day!”

“Get on your knees then,” I said.

Josh dropped instantly, eyes wide, face now inches from my cock.

“Don’t touch ’til I say so.”

“Yes sir,” he whispered.

I took my cock in hand and slapped him across the cheek, leaving a glistening trail of precum.

“You like that, boy?”

“Yes sir,” Josh nodded eagerly.

“You’ll do anything for my cock, won’tcha?”

“Yes sir.”

“But that’s not what I want,” I said with a smirk. “Chad, I wish Josh was as dumb as he looks.”

“Sure thing!” Chad said brightly. “Want me to make him a sexual genius too?”

“Nuh-uh,” I chuckled, shaking my head so hard my hair flopped. “I know what he needs. Just make him, like, real good at takin’ orders. Like, reeeal good.”

“Wait, bro—” Josh started, but he blurred out before he could finish.

When he came back, it hit me like a punch to the dick — Josh looked... gone. His face was all dopey, his eyes wide and glassy, like he just got hit with the world's biggest brain fart. His lips parted like he was about to say something smart, then just kinda... gave up halfway through.

He blinked slow, like he was tryin’ real hard to remember somethin'. His shoulders drooped, his chest puffed out, and his hips swayed a little.  His body was learning how to beg without words.

It was fuckin’ beautiful. My cock twitched just lookin’ at him — my smart-ass buddy, turned into this big, horny, braindead good boy. I couldn’t stop grinning, dumb and proud like I’d just built a really sexy IKEA dresser or somethin’.

“Adding details…” Chad said.

The apartment shifted. Protein powder tubs appeared — big ones labelled ‘BOOTY GROW SHAKE.’ Pink plastic dumbells cluttered the apartment. A dry erase board by the door read: “REMEMBER: EVERY DAY IS CHEST DAY.”

“Dude...” Josh blinked at me slowly, like the wifi dropped on his brain. “I was gonna say somethin’ smart...”

“Oh yeah?” I said, slapping him with my pole. “What’s wrong smart boy? You thinkin’ about cock again?”

“Ohhhmygod…” he purred, voice breathy and thick. “I need your cock like… so bad… like... right nowww.”

“Course you do,” I said, grabbing one of his nipples and pulling him up. “You’re my braindead cockwhore.”

“I’m your good boy,” Josh blurted. “I’m your slut! Fuck my hole! Use me... SIR!”

“Get in there,” I said, jerking my chin toward the bedroom. “I wanna breed that hole.”

He scrambled up, kind of wobbly, but with the kind of determination I usually only saw in gym bros chasing a pump.

“Yes!” he crowed, his ass bouncing as he made for the bedroom. His platinum blond hair bounced with every dumb step. “Can we film it? Puhleeeeese?”

I watched his ass and just kind of… smiled. A big, dumb, happy smile. Felt good.

I wandered after him, one hand stroking my cock.  It felt like we'd done this dance a billion times.

I got to the bedroom door and paused.

“Hey Chad,” I called out.

Chad looked up from the couch where he was reorganizing our porn collection. I think he put ‘daddy doms’ right next to ‘college hunks,’ which made me giggle for some reason.

“Can you take the couch tonight?” I asked, not really thinking about it, just knowing it felt right. “I’d like you to, like… stick around. Maybe I take you to the office tomorrow or somethin’? Show you around?”

Chad smiled like I’d just upgraded to Pro Mode. “As you wish.”

I grinned and headed into the bedroom.

Josh was already kneeling on the bed, flushed and perfect, his body stretched out like a centerfold from a magazine. He looked over his shoulder at me, wide-eyed, mouth parted, like he desperately needed instructions.

From the living room, I heard Chad humming to himself.  Probably rearranging our butt plugs by size.

Then his voice drifted through the apartment, smooth and calm.

"Hey," Chad said, clearly on the phone. "Yeah, the beta test worked great. They’re totally content policy approved. Hell, by the end, the straight one actually wanted it... Yeah, they’re streaming now, I’ll send you the link... Yeah, we’ll have even more testers tomorrow.  It’s gonna be slut city by the weekend....”

Didn’t matter. None of it did. All that shit doesn’t mater to dumb sluts like us.

Josh's hole was ready. The camera was rolling.

I climbed onto the bed behind him, grabbed his hips, and slammed in deep. Josh took it like a pro, body jerking, hole clamping down around my cock.  He knew I owned his ass.

"Fuck yeah, bro," I grunted, hips hammering my boy without a thought. "Dumb sluts fuck better, huh?"

Josh just babbled, drooling onto the sheets, trying to push back against me like he couldn’t get enough. Every time I drove in, he let out these cute little whimpers, brain too melted to do anything but beg and take it.

I rutted into him hard, feelin’ my cock throb, my balls swingin’ heavy, my whole brain short-circuited with how right this felt. No thinkin’. No stressin’. We're just a couple a fuck machines.

"Good boy," I growled, smacking his ass so hard it quaked. "My dumb little fucktoy."

Josh whined, clenching around me, like he was thanking me for every single sloppy thrust.

It didn’t take long. I slammed in deep and busted, filling him up thick and messy, feeling him twitch and gasp underneath me. My cum spilled out of him when I pulled out, a hot, sticky mess dripping down his thighs.

Slut city.  Population: everybody.

This is gonna go viral.