Rising to the occasion, of course. Fantasy self, remember?

Clearly his new cock was closer to his fantasies than the former pitiable version, maybe he'd rename it MaxMax, if that wouldn't be too cheesy. Who was he kidding, cheesy was the entire point.

Maybe his "my cum so tasty women seek it out" fantasy was coming true as well?

Wait, was Barb's ass growing right in front of him? Expanding in thiccness as she bent over the sink to dig his jizz out of her cleavage?

A surge of lust spiked through his groin as his cock sprang back to full mast, maybe even a bit...bigger? Torn between multiple fantasies realized before his very eyes, he reached for his phone and quickly took a photo of his cock, the cum pool on the floor, and the supreme fantasy of Barbara bent over a restroom sink, eating his cum with moans of pleasure, as he watched her ass slightly grow in time with what he assumed was her heartbeat. You almost couldn't tell, it was barely perceptible, but if he marked the width by eye and waited 10 seconds, it was clearly slightly bigger.

He realized he'd started taking video as Barbara began to turn away from the mirror, and quickly pretended to be searching his phone for something as he stopped recording and saved that top quality masturbation fuel to his private cloud storage.

Glancing up as if he'd not been paying attention, he reveled in the nearly see-through state of her blouse, her huge nipples clearly visible as they jutted out from her breasts. Were her breasts bigger too? Nevermind.

"Barb, I'm sorry about the *vague handwave* situation you're in, but it's hardly my fault you opened an occupied stall door at just the wrong moment, I just wanted to get this to go down and get back to work. Now I have to clean up and so do you, so either help or leave me to it."

For a second or two, Maximus thought she would actually offer to help, her gaze now almost exclusively focused on his now-ridiculous endowment. However, she just shakily nodded her head, seemingly even started what might have been an apology, and turned to leave the restroom.

He wished whoever was lucky enough to see her in this state the pleasure of their future masturbations, and settled into the task of cleaning up his mess. In the process, and almost as an afterthought, he noted that other parts of his fantasies were becoming real - his arms had more tone and definition than they ever did before, his waist/stomach had clearly lost several inches of fat, and his general musculature and fitness appearance was one of someone who exercised fairly regularly (if not strenuously), rather than too little and too lightly.

But why (and how) was this happening? Could he control it? Did he want to?