Kingsbury Harbor: Beautification

Aiden stared at his stocky reflection, uncertain whether or not he recognized the stranger as himself. The man’s short, brown hair looked like his own, and his strong-jawed features were familiar, if not exactly as they should have been. The cheeks seemed a bit too sharp, the lips a bit too plump, and the skin a bit too smooth. Aiden kept thinking his face should have been more weathered, just like the body looming below. Though he seemed to stand the proper height, and his broad-shouldered build seemed to take up an appropriate amount of space, the fine details felt off. A light dusting of chocolate fur didn’t coat his bulky muscle the way he felt it should, and, as with the absent-stubble from his too-smooth cheeks, Aiden thought his skin felt too soft, the uninterrupted tan too encompassing.

The lack of hair and golden hue both served to accentuate his impressive build, leaving his meaty pecs, burly arms, and lumpy muscle gut looking more impressive than ever. The brawny body didn’t appear gym-built, which lined up with what Aiden saw in his dreams, but which only furthered the confusing discrepancy in his head. While he slept, Aiden saw himself earning his bulk the old-fashioned way. He worked on a road crew, hauling, hammering, and pouring, spending his days sweating in the sun and elements. He wasn’t polished as he saw himself now; he was rugged and rough around the edges, clad in dirty jeans, draping t-shirts and boxers. Though Aiden was only twenty seven, the squat, powerful stranger in his dreams could have passed for ten years older, not a few years younger the way his polished doppelganger currently did. The way he stood, the way he spoke, the way he moved; the man in his dreams was a brawny bulldog, not a buff beauty. He chugged his beer, he was loud, crass, and chased after women, another marked difference from the man who’d just extricated himself from Tyler’s slumbering arms.

The Aiden in his dreams never would have done the things with another man that he currently wanted to do, and, regardless of who he did them with, the equipment he used was significantly larger. Staring at the petite nub that he couldn’t actually see over his slab of a chest and prominent muscle gut when he looked down, the stocky brunette kept expecting a fat six inches with equally hefty balls. It was the kind of girthy package that would have struggled to fit into the tiny thongs he now wore, the skimpy underwear expertly showcasing his meaty, muscled cheeks while simultaneously highlighting his lackluster endowment. Both Aidens possessed an ample rear, but the addled pretty-boy kept thinking that, while his front was too small, his back was too big, the pillowy cakes and chunky thighs having more heft than they should have. The alterations were perfect for the things he wanted to do, things that Tyler had kept him up late into the night doing, but the lusty memories were far from helpful in clearing the mental fog.

“Someone’s up early.”

Aiden grinned despite himself as he watched Tyler stir in the mirror. The auburn-haired hunk yawned and stretched, his oversized pecs flexing as he propped himself up on his elbows. Unlike the burly brunette’s short, stocky build, the taller man was long and lean, his 6’2” frame covered in tight definition, ripped and wiry, with deceptively strong arms, washboard abs, and a tight, perky bubble. His sharp facial features could have come across as harsh if, like Aiden’s, they hadn’t been softened, the beakish nose becoming a button, and dimples forming on his cheeks and chin. The shorter stud kept thinking that his friend should have been hairy like he was in his dreams, not smooth and tanned, and that he should have been just as crass, rough around the edges, and pussy-crazed. The Tyler in Aiden’s dreams wouldn’t have had any interest in hammering his seven inches into the burly beefcake’s plump rear, but that Tyler also didn’t possess the sensitive, oversized pecs of his top-heavy twin. Like his own thickened backside, the shorter man kept thinking that his friend’s muscled mounds were too big, that the juicy piles jutted to an almost impossible degree considering the rest of the toned, tapering frame from which they hung. “Couldn’t sleep,” Aiden shrugged, his voice sounding as foreign as he looked. The deep tone wasn’t too high or lilting; it just sounded as overly polished as the rest of him. “I keep having those weird dreams.”

“Awww, I’m sorry,” Tyler cooed, tossing the sheet aside and scooting to the edge of the bed. “Come here.” Aiden’s stomach instantly fluttered at the sight of his friend’s prominent pecs and thick cock, a shiver running through him as he lumbered over. He wanted to be held in the other man’s arms, to be comforted, a far cry from his dream self’s aggressive independence. The bottom-heavy bruiser flashed a coy smile when Tyler’s hands latched onto his rear and pulled him close, his own too-smooth palms drifting out to the taller man’s heaping pecs. With the ginger’s six-inch advantage in height, the two were almost eye-to-eye even though he was seated, adding to Aiden’s potentially confusing desire to press their lips together. “Was it the same dream? The one where we’re, what? Construction workers?”

“Road crew,” Aiden said, his cock surging to its full three inches as Tyler kneaded his rear. The other man’s lengthy snake steadily followed suit as the stocky stud toyed with the large, nubby nipples capping his ballooning pecs, the thick club looking huge by comparison.

“Oooohhh, sounds butch,” Tyler purred, giving Aiden’s cheek a rough squeeze.

“That…that’s just it,” the shorter man stammered, loving the way his ass rippled and bounced in his friend’s hand. “It was. We were!”

Tyler’s mischievous grin turned into a look of concern. “I still don’t understand why it bothers you so much.”

“It’s just so…real,” Aiden said. “Even though everything in the dream is so different…even though WE’RE so different…it all feels so right. The way we look, the way we’re acting, the thing’s we’re doing…” he trailed off and looked back and forth between them. “Then I wake up and THIS feels all wrong.”

“It does, huh,” Tyler asked, reaching down to tweak Aiden’s aching nub of a cock. “You’ve got a strange way of showing it, babe.”

The stocky hunk let out a whimper, his face going crimson. “See? That’s what I mean! You calling me ‘babe’ just then sounded so weird.”

The lean ginger cocked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow. “Should I be insulted?”

“No, hon’, that’s not what I mean,” Aiden said, ignoring how strange his own words felt as he leaned in for a quick kiss. “Just ‘cause it sounds weird doesn’t mean it sounds bad.”

“And what exactly are we doing in this dream,” Tyler asked, spinning Aiden in his arms so that the shorter man sat on his lap. He rested his chin on the burly hunk’s broad shoulder, his hands drifting across his friend's firm muscle gut.

Aiden shivered at the sensation of Tyler’s heavy pecs pressing into him, the other man’s rigid cock wedged against the side of his ample rear. “A really nasty hurricane tore up the coast. Like, once-in-a-century kind of storm. Flooding, downed trees, washed out roads…it messed up the whole area. Our crew got sent up here to help, and since Kingsbury Harbor weirdly made it through without a scratch, we were staying in town. Not here…in a motel,” Aiden said, motioning to the Tiny Home around them. The compact structure was shaped like a shipping container, with their bed at one end, a small living area in the middle, compact water closet with toilet and sink, and a kitchen at the other. The whole thing was lined with windows, giving picturesque views of the coast it sat on, as well as the similar homes clustered nearby. It was just one of several at the Seahorse Estates, the small seaside plot sitting somewhere between campground and trailer park. Most were permanent residents, and there was a central building that had showers for everyone to use, as well as a small workout room, and a shared pavilion. While Kingsbury Harbor generally maintained a relaxed attitude when it came to taboos and what was considered socially acceptable, the Seahorse Estates were particularly uninhibited. For the men who lived there, and it was only men, clothing was considered optional, and everyone felt free to act on the aroused impulses they felt towards one another. For Aiden, his neighbors were only another point of contention, as he saw variations of each in his dreams as part of the crew. Like himself and Tyler, while similar, the men were considerably rougher around the edges and each bore slightly different proportions. “All the guys are there too,” he said, nodding towards a nearby window.

“I mean, it makes sense if you think about it,” Tyler shrugged, a hand sliding down to massage the inside of Aiden’s thigh. “We ARE all technically on a crew. And it’s fuckin’ hot to think of those dudes all masc and butched up,” he chuckled. As with the two of them, regardless of their overall size or shape, each of their neighbors bore a remarkably pretty face, as well as soft, smooth skin and an almost unnaturally even voice.

“But that’s just it! In the dream it’s NOT hot. It’s just normal,” Aiden whined, trying as best he could to explain himself. He wanted to say that in the dream he wasn’t some tiny dicked muscle bottom, and Tyler wasn’t some cock-hungry pretty-boy with juicy muscle tits, but the words wouldn’t come. “I always get to the same point…we’re working on a stretch of road just north of town when all of a sudden this massive fog bank rolls in from the ocean out of nowhere, and then…here we are,” Aiden sighed.

“Okay, yeah, that last part sounds intense,” Tyler said, nibbling on the shorter man’s ear. “But you know how foggy it gets around here. The ocean is, like, fifty yards away at all times. So is something weird! That’s kind of this town’s whole deal, babe. I don’t know what to tell you. You’re not unhappy with all this, are you?”

“No! Of course not,” Aiden said, turning to once again face his friend. “I love what we have here. I just wish my brain could decide…”

“Let’s give it a reminder, then,” Tyler grinned. He hopped to his feet and took Aiden by the hand, pulling the shorter man out the door and into the crisp, salty air. The burly hunk winced internally as they stepped outside, the thought of strutting around with his bare, bottom-heavy body and tiny, rigid nub on full display striking him as wrong. He knew it wasn’t, none of his equally exposed neighbors seemed at all bothered as they waved and said good morning, and while a part of him absolutely relished the sensation of the sea air on every inch of his body, Aiden couldn’t shake the feeling that there existed a version of himself who would have been mortified at the circumstances.

That same version likely would have imploded at what awaited in the showers. There weren’t individual stalls, but an open room peppered by pillars bearing showerheads, giving anyone who entered an unobstructed view of the rutting couple within. Both of the men were massive in different ways, one a younger, dark-skinned mountain of soft, supple flesh, and the other a middle-aged, mediterranean meathead. In his dreams, Aiden saw the olive-hued daddy as a hairy, flat-featured chunk of muscle, not a bald, smooth statue whose delicate features contrasted against his strapping size. Dream Jerry also sported a fat, sizable package between his meaty thighs, not a hungry slit for Max to hammer into. The same could be said for the thrusting, dark-skinned stud, who was only moderately hung in Aiden’s dreams, and whose heavyset frame wasn’t quite as husky. Now, Max was hung like a horse, but his massive cock was one of the few solid things on him as the rest of his frame was soft, smooth, and round. Like everyone else, the rippling hulk’s face had become perfect in its pulchritude, looking closer to someone in their mid-twenties instead of their mid-thirties.

Aiden’s stomach fluttered again at the sight, his head swimming with conflicting memories of the pair. While he remembered their rugged counterparts, he also remembered how much he loved riding Max’s rolling bulk while the bigger man split him wide, and how much fun he had jamming his tiny poker into Jerry’s granite frame.

“Mornin’ fellas,” the older man grunted as the pair entered. Pressed against the pillar, he had a clear view of the door, and made quite a sight for anyone coming to shower.

“Hi guys,” Aiden waved, his head spinning. He expected Jerry’s voice to sound like crunching gravel, not tumbling pebbles, and he kept waiting for the middle-aged man to suddenly panic about his current state.

“Wondered where…everyone was…this morning,” Max groaned, smiling over his shoulder at the two.

“Looked like everyone was just getting up,” Tyler said, cranking on a neighboring shower. “Aiden had his scary dreams again, so he got us up early.”

“I didn’t get us up,” the shorter man countered. “I very quietly got out of bed and stood in front of the mirror.”

Tyler rolled his eyes and pulled the stocky stud in close. “I could feel you pouting,” he said, a hand slipping down between the valley of his friend’s cheeks.

“That the one where…everyone’s a…construction…worker…” Jerry asked, his stubby fingers digging into Max’s supple back.

“That’s the one,” Tyler answered, slipping a pair of fingers into his friend before Aiden could respond.

“MMMNNNMmmnnhhh…” the burly brunette groaned, his eyes going wide. That part of himself that felt like he shouldn’t be getting fingered in public quickly vanished in the shadow of his building bliss, barely resurfacing when Will and Nolan sauntered in and joined them. Will was a blonde beauty, built like Aiden and Tyler put together, with heaping pecs and a ballooning ass that were all contained within a four-foot frame. His package was proportional to his height, neither overly large nor overly small, and his features were as refined, his skin as smooth and unblemished, as the rest of them. The same went for Nolan, whose light brown skin was stretched tight over a swimmer’s broad-shouldered, tapering build, and who, aside from his unnaturally brooding features, would have looked unremarkable until someone saw the wine bottle cock hanging halfway to his knees. In Aiden’s dreams, Will was a boisterous blonde jock, his solidly proportioned frame standing an even six feet, while Nolan was a burly bear with a prominent belly.

“Hi guys,” Will chirped, giving Aiden’s cock a few tugs as he passed.

“Looks like we’re just in time for the party,” Nolan said, following up his pint-sized partner’s tugging with a quick kiss on Aiden’s stunned lips.

Tyler grinned and pulled his hand free. “It’s always a party,” he said, popping his hips and plunging inside.

Aiden couldn’t hold back an echoing howl, both savoring and dreading the chuckles that followed. He knew he had intimate experience with everyone in the room, that he had nothing to be embarrassed about, but now that they were all together the insistent nagging was trying to resurface. As he watched Will’s compact frame lapping at Nolan’s massive member, as he squirmed and writhed against Tyler’s heavy pecs, as Max pulled groan after groan out of Jerry’s aching orifice, it all felt so right and so wrong. He kept telling himself that he was happy, that they all seemed perfectly content, but that still didn’t make it feel any more normal.

Then again, like Tyler said, “normal” had an expanded definition in a town like Kingsbury Harbor. They were all happy, healthy, and clearly having the time of their lives, so what did it matter if their dream versions were different? What did it matter if they actually had been different? They were here, now, in their seaside shanties enjoying a kind of freedom in the lovely little town that they’d never had before. They may not have been a group of rugged repair workers, but, as the town’s official “beautification” crew, they still got to spend their days as part of a team. They cleaned up the beaches, picked up litter around the docks and downtown, cleared the hiking trails, tended the public gardens; anything that needed polishing was within their purview. Instead of grueling labor, Aiden got to spend his days wearing nothing but a slinky thong, making the beaches and town as beautiful as he was. As they all were.

When he came in front of everyone, the bottom-heavy brunette no longer felt like he should be embarrassed. He felt a satisfying solidarity, an unburdened weightlessness that made his earlier anxieties seem foolish. With his friends, he had no reason to hide and nothing to be ashamed of. Even when they’d finished showering and were headed down the coastal trail into town for breakfast, Aiden’s giddy haze refused to thaw. Jerry didn’t seem at all bothered by his empty bikini bottoms, so why should he feel embarrassed about his bouncing cheeks or acorn bulge?

It was their job to make the town beautiful, and they couldn’t do that if they covered their own unique beauty.