Lifeswap

[long form request: Julian Edelman and Antoine Vaillant don't just swap bodies; they swap lives]

Antoine rolled over in bed and stretched his lean body. Damn, he just felt so GOOD! He could hear the shower running--was that guy still here? He’d expected him to leave by now. What was his name? Darren? Darwin?

Antoine stood up. That feeling--of only weighing 198 pounds--was still foreign to him. Although, he thought, it shouldn’t be. He’d been this size and stature for years, hadn’t he?

He walked softly over to the mirror, ever mindful of how healthy his joints felt. He still had a memory of being a hundred pounds heavier, of having a body plagued with ache at all times as he struggled to carry it all around. In the mirror, he stood up and examined his form, running his hands over its slim, narrow dimensions.

Then he leaned in to his face: beautiful. There was no other word for it! He was a stunning man. That other face he remembered--the one from his memories, of being twice the size he was now--had always been attractive, but the features were smoother now, the jawline sleeker. He had perfect cheekbones! He smiled at his reflection, disarmed by how gorgeous he was.

But this had always been his face, hadn’t it?

The shower turned off and Antoine had an impulse to cover up. Then again, his guest had already seen his body entirely naked. What was the point of hiding it now? The bathroom door swung open and a big, muscular man strutted out with a towel around his waist.

(But wait: was he that big though? Antoine remembered seeing guys his size before and making fun of them; prettyboys who never lifted heavy. Then again, nowadays, Antoine never lifted heavy either, and this guy--Darian? What was his name?--was several inches taller and about fifty pounds heavier than Antoine was now.)

“Had to shower up,” he said--DEREK! That was his name, Antoine suddenly remembered. “Especially after last night. Getting railed by you was a real cardio workout. You’ve got some stamina, little guy!”

Antoine bristled: “little guy” didn’t feel so good to hear. Then again, in his life as a professional NFL player, he heard it all the time, from massive, mountainous lineman and tight ends who towered over him. And again, Derek was bigger than him. Still, Antoine couldn’t let the comment go.

“Oh yeah? Little guy?” he flexed his hips, swinging his big cock back and forth. Derek grinned. “For some reason I don’t think I felt so little to you last night. Or is there some other reason you’re walking funny today?”

Derek chuckled and shrugged his big shoulders. “All my muscles can’t hold a candle to that one muscle of yours--the love muscle.” Derek grinned and brushed his hand against the big dick, causing it to spring up. “You like all this size, hunh? You into big dudes? Or am I your first bodybuilder?”

Something about Derek calling himself a bodybuilder rubbed Antoine the wrong way. “Do you… compete, ever?”

“Yeah, I’m doing a competition next month,” Derek said as he drew himself up to his full height and thrust out his pecs. “I’m a national champion, professional heavyweight.”

Bullshit, Antoine thought. I’ve never heard of this guy before. Then again, as an NFL player, Antoine really didn’t know much about bodybuilding--did he?

“To me, you look more like a… physique competitor,” Antoine said, wincing as the words came out. There was a weird fog over his head that had been there for a few days now, like he had two sets of memories warring for space in his brain.

“Oh yeah?” Derek said, grabbing Antoine and hoisting him easily into the air. Antoine struggled playfully as Derek slung the wide receiver over his shoulder, spanking the perfect globes of his ass. “You look like a little snack to me,” Derek said. “So maybe you shouldn’t be talking about what I look like… unless I get hungry!” Derek tossed Antoine back on the bed and climbed in, causing the mattress to shift toward his approaching bulk.

“I have a press conference,” Antoine said as Derek leaned in.

“That’s right, big famous football player,” Derek said as he kissed Antoine’s cheek. “You gonna tell them you fucked a pro bodybuilder last night?” he said with a wink.

Antoine shook his head. “No, because I fucked an amateur physique competitor last night.”

Derek frowned and stood up. He quietly got dressed as he headed toward the door. Antoine sat in bed, wondering where the comment had come from. What was it about bodybuilders who lied about being pros that bothered him so badly? All these wannabes do a few cycles but never step onstage and still call themselves bodybuilders. He remembered saying that, but couldn’t remember when or why. Where the hell had this pet peeve come from?

* * *

Julian’s body screamed as he lurched to his feet. He thudded across his bedroom to a liter of water he had, ready to be guzzled first thing, on his bureau. As he chugged it down, he took a look in the mirror. His stomach was distended, a side effect of his bulking cycle. He rubbed a hand over it, pleased that it was still firm. It just looked like a turtle shell, and the beautiful cuts he’d had at the Olympia were all gone now, filled in by mass he’d worked hard to cultivate. This was all the price of being over 300 pounds, he knew, but a part of him longed to be lean.

His body ached. It had always ached, he knew, ever since he got serious about bodybuilding. He was always sore from the day before, whatever bodypart he’d punished screaming out for the next 36 hours, and his joints, especially his knees, throbbed like mad. All part of being a monster, he reminded himself. All the pain went away for those blissful minutes when he had the weight on his back, when he screamed and fought against gravity and won.

His face was wrong. Sure, it was much bigger since he’d bulked up so much (the scale said 308 that morning; he’d have to post that on instagram to get his fans riled up), thick and wide like a bulldog’s, but he remembered being… prettier? “I’m a good-looking dude,” he said… then his eyes went wide when he realized he’d said it in French. He repeated the line in English, marveling at his accent. Why did it seem so unfamiliar?

When Regan Facetimed him, he was finishing his second meal. “Yo, Julian, you ready to blast back today?”

For just a split second, the massive pile of muscle grinning back at him from his phone seemed unfamiliar. Julian knew big guys, of course, but Regan was big in another way. Then again, that was silly, because all of Julian’s pro-bodybuilder friends were around Regan’s size, as was he. In fact, now, he was a bit bigger than Regan, although his friend would never admit it.

“I’m ready,” Julian said, shoving the last forkful of his meal in his mouth. “I’m gonna blow you away today, just so you know.”

“Oh yeah? Can’t wait to see you try,” Regan chuckled. “All those extra LBs on you, you’ve been huffing and puffing like a St. Bernard lately.”

Julian bristled. Was Regan calling him fat? It felt wrong. But then again, about six months before the Olympia, when Julian was at his all-time biggest, he’d been even heftier. At least now, his body composition was better. After that last bulk, he’d looked like a man-shaped-mattress. Now he just looked like a bodybuilder had been puffed up with air. And the numbers he was throwing up at the gym were insane! Why was being big suddenly bothering him?

“I’m on my way to pick you up,” Regan said, ending the call.

Julian stood up, grunting as he hoisted his massive bulk, and waddled toward the TV. He turned it on to ESPN. Some American football player was speaking into a microphone. Julian recognized him from somewhere, although he couldn’t place from where. “Patriots?” Julian said. The word felt… comfortable to him. But he’d never watched American football in his life!

“Wide receiver for the Patriots,” Julian said aloud. “Antoine Vaillant” was his name. Scrawny little guy, Juilan thought. “I weigh over a hundred pounds more than he does,” Julian chuckled. His face went red when he realized he’d said the last line in French again. “I speak two languages,” he reminded himself in English. “I always have.”

“Antoine Vaillant,” Julian thought to himself… that names seems a hell of a lot more French-Canadian than his own did. And yet, there he sat in Quebec, while this American hearthrob ran fast and caught balls and probably made ten times the amount of money in a year that Julian pulled in.

Then he flashed on an image: a football. His enlarged heart pounded as it appeared in his mind. Why did he yearn for it so much? He looked down at the bloated muscles on his gargantuan body and groaned. This was all wrong. How could he have forgotten who he was?

“This isn’t me,” he moaned. “I’m not a bodybuilder!” He stared at the pretty little guy on the TV. “You stole my life, you little prick!” he said, poking the screen with a fat finger.

* * *

Antoine poured himself another scotch and leaned back on the couch. It was the offseason now, so until training camp he could truly do whatever he wanted to. “If I want to black out on Scotch while jerking it to porn, so be it,” he said with a chuckle. “I wonder if Gronk’s getting drunk,” he mused. Last time his buddy and former teammate got wasted, Antoine got a dick pic from him. He smiled as he remembered the big tight end’s beautiful dick, and picked up his phone to text the big lug.

His head turned sharply as he heard a commotion in his condo’s entryway. “Hello?” he asked. The maid had left hours before. Was it that knucklehead Derek? Maybe the doorman had recognized him and buzzed him up. He’d have to have a talk with the building staff about that; he couldn’t have every one-and-done partner he’d ever had just barging back in whenever they wanted.

“Hello?” he said as he hopped to his feet and assumed a fighting stance. “Who the fuck is there?” he said with his fists doubled up. The scotch glass rattled on the table as the intruder’s footsteps boomed toward him--the whole condo was shaking! Antoine’s eyes went wide as he saw a BEHEMOTH--as big as a lineman, but stuffed with round, hard muscles instead of the brawny flab he saw on his larger teammate’s frames--stomping toward him.

“Holy sh--” The big brute grabbed Antoine with massive, thick hands and held him up in the air with ease. Antoine felt like a little rag doll in the giant’s grip. Good god, he was ENORMOUS! Wide and thick, every part of him bulging.

“You sonuvabitch!” the brute said with a strong French accent. “You stole my life!”

“What are you talking ab--” The beast tossed Antoine down. Luckily, he landed on his couch, which cushioned the blow. Still, the wind was knocked out of him.

“I remembered the access code to MY condo,” the big man roared. “I don’t know how the fuck you did this… but... “ He patted the mounds of muscle bulging through his t-shirt. “This isn’t my body! I don’t want these muscles anymore! Take them back!”

Antoine crawled to his feet, trying to process what the intruder was saying. “I don’t know… what you’re talking… about…” he groaned, but something struck him: it was the intruder’s accent. It seemed familiar, like he’d heard it his whole life. “Holy shit, you have my accent,” he said. His own speech suddenly seemed foreign. “Why don’t I have an accent?” he said aloud.

The two stared at each other, dumbfounded, before the intruder lowered his enormous fists. “You don’t… you don’t remember?” he said. “My name’s… Julian. Julian Edelman. I’m supposed to be a wide receiver, not… this big muscle man!”

“I’m Antoine Vaillant!” Antoine suddenly realized as the memories came rushing back. “I’m a pro bodybuilder!” He looked down at his body. “Holy shit, I got SMALL!”

After a few moments of the two athletes breathing heavily and studying each other’s, and their own, forms, Antoine finally had a seat. “You want some scotch?” he offered.

“I don’t drink,” Julian said, waving a thick paw.

“Actually, I don’t drink,” Antoine said. “I have… a competition.”

“In twelve weeks,” Julian finished. “I’ve been training for it. It’s like… we didn’t switch bodies. We switched lives.”

“How did that even happen?” Antoine said. “Jesus, is that how BIG I used to be?” he said, marveling at the size of Julian, whose mass tilted the couch.

Julian nodded. “Sometimes this feels normal. LIke, I’ve always been huge. And sometimes… sometimes I feel like a fucking elephant!”

Antoine chuckled. “Yeah, I get that. Meanwhile, I feel like I shrunk in the wash sometimes! Like, dude, I’m gonna get squashed on the field with all those gorillas stomping around!”

Julian shrugged, his grapefruit-sized delt flexing. “You’re fast though. Nobody can catch you. At least, I was.” He rubbed his mitts on his swollen quad muscles. “Not anymore though.”

“I’m gay,” Antoine blurted out. The admission surprised both of them. “Are you gay? Or were you, when you were me?”

Julian’s eyes went wide. He said nothing in response. His thick, simian face contorted in shock.

“It’s cool,” Antoine said. “It’s like… I slid right into the role, just like everything else in your life. I’m not, like, grossed out by it or anything. Despite having had...  a TON of sex in the past few days.”

Julian rose to his full height, his bulk suddenly intimidating Antoine once again. “I’m not gay....” Julian said, his big pecs heaving. “I mean, I wasn’t, when I was a wide receiver. But since I got big like this… I’ve been sleeping with my lifting partner.”

“REGAN?” Antoine said. Now he was on his feet, although he was a couple inches shorter than the bodybuilder. “You and Regan have been fucking? Regan’s not gay!”

The two tried to figure out what this meant. “So it’s like… we each switched into each other’s lives…” Julian began.

“But however that happened, we also turned gay in the process,” Antoine finished. “But… I remember always being gay. Back in college, there was this hockey player… and assistants on the team from time to time.”

“See, whoa-whoa-whoa…” Julian said. “That never happened. I’ve never slept with a man in my life! Or at least, not before.”

Antoine shook his head. “Do you have memories of fucking other guys? Mixed in with the rest of my normal memories?”

Julian just shook his head. “Do you… do you want to hear with who?”

Antoine shrugged. “Maybe later. Let’s figure out who did this first.” He chugged the rest of his scotch, then took a healthy pull from the bottle. “You think it was Regan? If that’s who you’ve been fucking, do you think he did this somehow?” Antoine’s memories flashed on his buddy’s handsome face. His dick jumped. He had a sudden craving to see big Julian and Regan going at it, a desire he had to cram down all of a sudden.

“I bet it was Gronk,” Julian conjectured. “He sent me a dick pic awhile ago. And he’s been hinting at me for years that he’s bi-curious…”

Antoine shook his head. “See, I don’t remember him hinting. I remember hooking up with him a bunch. And that dick pic… I jerked off to it for weeks after he went to Florida. Damn, do I miss that dick…” Antoine suddenly realized what he was saying to this man he’d never really met before. His face turned bright red.

“No, no, it’s okay,” Julian said. “It’s weird, I… kind of want to see it.”

“The dick pic?” Antoine said with a wry grin. He picked up his phone. “We should really be more worried about this,” Antoine said as he scrolled to his private folder.

“I know, but… I mean, it feels wrong to be in this body,” Julian said, grabbing the collar of his skin-tight t-shirt with one enormous hand, “but… it’s like, it doesn’t feel wrong to…”

Antoine waited in the silence for what seemed like forever. “...to what?” he said. Damn, in his entire life he’d had both women and men throwing themselves at him, especially since he’d started in the NFL. (He knew they weren’t his memories, but they were the ones coming to mind.) Now, this big beast was in his condo, making him sweat like he was a virgin or something.

“...to want that body,” Julian said, scooping Antoine into his massive arms. The little wide receiver moaned as he felt himself swallowed up by Julian’s mass. With Antoine in tow, Julian headed to the bedroom without needing to be told where it was. He set Antoine down, then reached up and tore his t-shirt in half, tossing the shredded remains to Antoine, who had begun to drool as he caugh them.

“Fuck,” he said. “I fucked some loser last night, who said he was a bodybuilder,” he said, nearly breathless as he took in over 300 pounds of professional bodybuilder muscle. He could feel the heat coming off Julian in waves. He could smell the delicious stink of the bodybuilder, who was so big that just the walk from the living room had caused a light sheen of sweat to form on his hairless, granite flesh.

“Oh yeah? Was he as big as me?” Julian said, flexing his huge arms, then flaring out his lats wide.

“Fuck, no,” Antoine said, grinding his ass against the bed like a bitch in heat. He’d never seen all that size from this angle, had never lain in the shadow of all that bulk--bulk he’d built, back when it was his life--and let it loom over him, big enough to crush him. “God, damn, I wish that dumbass was here right now to see a REAL bodybuilder.”

Julian dug a big thumb into the waistband of Antoine’s boxers, yanking them down. Antoine’s big cock sprung free.

“Fuck! That is so weird,” he said, licking his lips. “No, I mean… I recognize that dick. I recognize your whole body! Because it used to be mine, it’s just…” He tweaked one of the nipples, making his melon-sized pec jump. “I’ve never been horny for it before.”

“Your ass,” Antoine said, grabbing onto Julian’s enormous lats. They were so huge in his hands, and they flared even thicker and harder when he touched them. “I want to see your ass…” he moaned as he licked the rock-hard pec hanging before him.

“It’s your ass,” Julian said, standing up and spinning around. Antoine’s eyes went wide at the display of back muscles before him, wider as he looked lower and saw the absolutely gargantuan glutes hanging just below them. “And I want my dick back…” Julian said, slapping a big hand on the wide slabs of ass meat.

“Oh yeah? You want this dick back, big man?” Antoine said, leaping up and burying his face in Julian’s huge sweaty cakes. God, damn, it tasted so good! Was that ass as tasty when it was him in that body? He didn’t care; it felt much better with his face pressed into it than it ever had when it was attached to him.

Big Julian pushed Antoine aside and collapsed into the bed, hitting hard as a meteor. Antoine was surprised the bread wasn’t smashed to pieces. The apelike man pressed his huge chest against the bed and arched his back, presenting his ass for Antoine’s pleasure.

“Did you used to keep lube in your nightstand when this was your life?” Antoine said as he pulled a bottle of Gun Oil from the drawer.

“Yeah, actually I did,” Julian said with a chuckle, pressing his face deeply into the pillow.

Antoine slathered Julian’s hot, puckering hole with lube, then slid his thumb in. The enormous brute moaned and pounded on the bed. “Damn,” Antoine said. “You’re a needy bottom, aren’t you?” He gave the big ass a slap before working two fingers in. Julian roared and bit the pillow, writhing at the sensations overwhelming his overgrown body. When Antoine was ready, he finally jammed his big dick in that inviting ass...

Nothing in Antoine’s life had ever felt so amazing. All that muscle, bucking and flexing beneath him, whimpering and writhing. It felt amazing to dominate so much man. He leaned forward, placing his hands on the undulating muscles of Julian’s back. The big beast had so much muscle control, he squeezed his glutes around Antoine’s dick in a perfect rhythm with Antoine’s expert pounding. Heat came off both of them in waves, sweat cascading off their professionally athletic bodies, soaking the bed beneath. Antoine didn’t care. This was the most exquisite ass he’d ever felt, built from years of blood sweat and tears. He’d just never imagined he’d be enjoying it from this angle.

Antoine’s orgasm came on him like a freight train. There was nothing he could do to stop it as it approached. When he came, he felt the musclebeast beneath him buck and twitch. As he rolled off the big gorilla’s back, he saw a puddle of cum dribbling off Julian’s turtleshell belly. The big man had cum at the same time.

The two men stared into each other’s eyes for a moment. Technically, they had never met before that night, but neither had ever felt so connected to someone before. Julian lay back on the bed, getting comfortable in the sweat-and-cum-soaked sheets. Antoine pulled up alongside him, placing his head against Julian’s rising and falling pec. He listened to the giant’s pounding heartbeat. Everything felt perfect.

“I don’t think I want to switch back,” Julian finally said in a whisper. “Is that weird?”

Antoine looked to his side, examining the thick muscular arm--as big as his leg--rippling and veiny next to him. “No, it’s not weird,” Antoine said. “What do you think about moving in?”

Julian chuckled. “Regan’s gonna be pissed.”

“Invite him two,” Antoine said. Then the two fell into a blissful sleep.