Swimming Lessons: Tim Gets Called By Walter-son

Tim, who was watching from the bleachers as Alison's “supportive boyfriend,” caught Walter’s eye during a break. His expression shifted from encouragement to wide-eyed concern when (s)he noticed how the back of the swimsuit was now straining, the fabric stretched thin over a noticeably larger, rounder ass that definitely exceeded Alison’s usual measurements.

Walter-son gave a tiny, helpless shrug and mouthed, “The iBod… it glitched.”

Tim paled. "What do you need?"

"I need you to go home and get it here. You got me? Do it before your girlfriend's known as 'All-ass-ion' if you catch my drift."

"Really?" Tim's paleness returned when he looked at his father. "A joke?"

"Sorry, sorry, but go." Walter-son egged on his son. Tim nodded and raced out the gym leaving his father to deal with this mess.

The expansion continued its merciless, gradual pace. By the midpoint of practice, Walter’s once-firm athletic rear had ballooned into something far softer and more pronounced—thick, juicy, and impossible to hide in the now-overtaxed competitive swimsuit. Each step on the deck made the cheeks wobble slightly. Sitting on the starting blocks felt completely different; there was simply more of him to cushion against the hard plastic.

Coach Ramirez frowned as she walked past. “Alison, you okay? Your form looks… different today. Everything feeling alright?”

Walter **** Alison’s most innocent smile, her heart hammering like a drum. “Just a little sore from yesterday’s dryland, Coach. I’ll push through!”

Inside, panic was rising. The iBod malfunction was still progressing. At this rate, by the end of practice his ass would be so big that even a casual glance from behind would scream “What's up with all of Alison's ass' And he still had the video review session to survive—where everyone would be staring at slow-motion footage of his increasingly voluptuous backside.

(S)he had to hope Tim could make it home before his girlfriend's social life was ruined.

And the tingling deep in Walter-son's glutes showed no sign of slowing down.