A Change of Attitude

The cold marble of the hallway floor pressed against your bare feet as you followed her, each step a shock of chill that climbed up your legs. The dim bulb behind the dusty shade cast long shadows across the hallway, and Carrie's body moved through them like something carved from moonlight. Six-foot-eight of her, all that newly grown height and muscle, walking naked and confident ahead of you.

She stopped so suddenly you nearly walked into her back. When she turned, that knowing smile was already on her lips, warm brown eyes catching the low light and holding something in them you hadn't seen before. Something certain. Something that made your breath catch.

"You're still hard," she said. Not a question. A statement of fact, delivered with the same casual confidence she'd used to tell Jake she didn't need him.

You looked down at yourself, embarrassed to find she was right. Your cock stood at full attention, slick at the tip, betraying everything you'd been feeling since you watched her ride Jake. Since you watched her grow. Since she'd become something taller and stronger and more magnificent than any woman you'd ever known.

"I—" you started, but she cut you off with a step forward.

Her hand found your jaw, fingers warm and calloused in a way they hadn't been two days ago. She tilted your head up—up, because she was so much taller now—and held your gaze. Her thumb brushed along your cheekbone, a gesture so tender it made your chest ache.

"Good," she said softly. "I want you to watch me play with myself. And then you're going to wait for me to shower. before showing me that size doesn’t matter"

The words landed in your stomach like a stone dropping into deep water. Your cock twitched, a fresh bead of pre-cum beading at the tip, and you saw her eyes flick down to catch it. Her smile widened.

"Don't worry," she said, her voice dropping into that low, intense register that made your knees weak. "I'll take care of you after. But right now, I want to explore this new body of mine. And I want you to watch."

She turned and stepped into your bedroom, leaving the door wide open behind her. The threshold was a line of temperature change—cold marble giving way to worn wool rug, and you followed her across it like a man hypnotized, stopping past the doorway, closing it behind you to watch.

The room was lit by the same dim bulb behind the dusty shade, casting long shadows across the rumpled sheets. Your bed, your space, suddenly feeling smaller with Carrie in it. She moved through it with that new, heavy grace, muscle shifting under her skin in ways you'd never seen on her before. Her shoulders were broader, her arms defined where they'd been soft, her thighs thick and powerful as she bent over the side of the bed.

You watched her arm reach underneath, heard the rustle of whatever she was searching for. When she straightened, something in your chest went tight.

The dildo in her hand looked freakishly similar to Jake's cock.

Same length. Same thickness. Same slight curve. It was like someone had taken a cast of your roommate's dick and filled it with silicone, and Carried held it with the familiarity of someone who knew exactly what she was holding.

"Found this a while ago," she said, catching your expression. "Never told you about it. Thought it might be fun someday." She ran her thumb along the shaft, and you watched the silicone give slightly under her touch. "Didn't realize how much I'd need it until recently."

She climbed onto the bed with that new, heavy grace, her body moving like it had finally settled into its own power. The mattress dipped under her weight, more than it used to, and she settled onto her side facing the mirror that hung on your closet door. Her long legs stretched out, one knee bent, and she propped herself up on one elbow, the dildo resting against her hip.

The mirror caught her reflection. Caught yours, too, standing by the door like a ghost.

She found your eyes in the glass and grinned. That mischievous, knowing grin that had been there since the beginning, but now it sat on a face that was more angular, more striking, more beautiful than it had any right to be.

"Don't touch yourself until I'm done," she said. Flat. Certain. A command that didn't ask for agreement.

Your hand, which had been creeping down your stomach without your permission, froze, and you nodded.

"Good boy," she said, and the words sent a shiver through you that you didn't fully understand.

She turned her attention down to her own body, and you watched her hands begin to explore. Trailing down her stomach, over the newly defined muscles there. Her skin glowed in the dim light, flushed with something that wasn't just warmth. She traced the curve of her hip, the swell of her thigh, and you watched her fingers leave faint marks in her skin, like she was testing the firmness of her own flesh.

"I can feel it, you know," she said, not looking at you. "Every inch I grew. Every pound of muscle. It's like my body is still settling into itself." Her hand slid lower, fingers brushing through the neat patch of hair between her legs. "Everything's more sensitive now. More awake."

You watched her fingers part her folds, watched the glisten of her arousal catch the dim light. Your mouth went dry.

"I thought about you while Jake fucked me," she said, and your heart stopped. "I know that sounds wrong, but I did. I thought about how you were watching, how you were probably stroking yourself in the doorway. And that made it better." Her fingers circled her clit, slow and deliberate. "Made me wetter. Made me want to grow even more, just to see the look on your face."

She finally looked at you in the mirror, and there was something raw in her eyes. Something hungry.

"You like this, don't you? Watching me. Seeing what I'm becoming."

You swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Good." She smiled, then reached for the dildo. "Because I'm not done yet. Not even close."

She brought the giant cock closer to her glistening pussy, not taking her eyes off of you for a moment. The silicone head pressed against her folds, and you watched her mouth fall open, watched her hips shift forward to meet it. She dragged it along her slit, coating it in her wetness, and the sound of it—that wet, slick sound—filled the room.

Your cock ached, painfully hard, and you could feel pre-cum leaking down your shaft. But you didn't touch yourself. You couldn't. She'd told you to wait, and some part of you—the part that had been falling deeper and deeper under her spell—needed to obey.

"That's it," she breathed, pressing the head against her entrance. "Watch me."

She pushed it in, and you watched her body take it. Watched her stretch around the girth of it, watched her eyes roll back for just a second before she caught herself and found you in the mirror again. She held your gaze as she sank down on it, inch by inch, until it was buried inside her.

"Fuck," she breathed. "That's good."

She began to move. Slow at first, a gentle rocking of her hips that made the dildo shift inside her. Her free hand found her clit, rubbing in tight circles, and you watched her pleasure build in the mirror. Watched her face change, her breath quicken, her body begin to move with more urgency.

"I want you to remember this," she said, her voice strained. "I want you to remember what I look like right now. Because when I'm done growing, when I'm even bigger than this, I want you to look at me and remember that you watched me become this."

She sped up, the dildo sliding in and out of her with a wet, rhythmic sound that echoed off the walls. Her hips bucked against her own hand, chasing something, and you watched the muscles in her stomach flex and release, flex and release.

She was beautiful like this. Powerful. In control. And you were completely, utterly hers.

"Don't cum yet," she said, and it took you a second to realize she was talking to you. You hadn’t even touched your cock, but the raw sight in front of you, the Goddess, the Amazon, the Muscle Mommy that was your girlfriend was doing things to you, things you didn’t yet fully understand.

"I can see you," she said, a smile in her voice. "I can see how hard you are. How much you want to touch yourself." She moaned as she pushed the dildo deeper, her hips grinding down. "But you're going to wait. You're going to watch me cum first. And then—" she gasped, her body shuddering, "—then I'm going to let you pleasure me."

You watched her come undone. Watched her back arch, her mouth open in a silent cry, her thighs clench around the dildo buried inside her. Her hand worked her clit frantically, and you watched the orgasm roll through her in waves, watched her body shudder and shake with it.

When she finally stilled, she was breathing hard, sweat glistening on her skin. She slowly pulled the dildo out, and you watched it emerge slick and glistening, watched her arousal coat it in a thick sheen.

And then something strange happened.

She held the dildo up, examining it in the dim light. And you could have sworn it looked... bigger. Slightly. Like the silicone had hardened and grown in her hand.

Carrie noticed it too. Her eyes widened, and she looked from the dildo to her own hand, to the wetness coating her fingers.

"Huh," she said softly. "That's new."

She looked at you in the mirror, and that knowing smile crept back onto her lips. "Guess I'm not the only thing that grows around here."

She set the dildo aside and stretched, her body arching like a cat's, every muscle shifting under her skin. Then she rose from the bed, her new height filling the room, and walked toward you with that heavy, powerful grace.

She stopped in front of you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off her skin. Her hand found your jaw again, tilting your head up to meet her eyes.

"You were good," she said softly. "You waited."

Her thumb brushed across your lower lip, and you felt her other hand slide down your stomach, fingers wrapping around your aching cock.

"Now," she said, her voice dropping to that low, hungry register, "I think you've earned a reward."

Her fingers tightened around your cock, and you felt the calluses on her palm—new calluses, earned from gripping and lifting and becoming something stronger. She gave you a slow, deliberate stroke, thumb dragging over the head and smearing the pre-cum that had been leaking there. Your hips bucked into her hand before you could stop yourself.

"Look at you," she murmured, almost to herself. "So desperate. So hard for me." She stroked again, slower this time, and you felt your knees threaten to give out. "You've been so good, standing there watching. Doing exactly what I said."

Something in her face shifted. Not the playful Carrie you'd known for a year, the one who laughed at your jokes and curled into your side during movies. This was something else—something that had been growing inside her along with her body, muscle and certainty layering over the girl you'd fallen in love with.

"Get on your knees," she said.

It wasn't a request. It wasn't even really a command, not in the way she'd been commanding all night. It was just... fact. A statement of how things were going to be. And your body obeyed before your mind had finished processing the words, dropping to the worn wool rug, the rough fibres pressing into your knees as you looked up at her.

She towered over you. Six-foot-eight of naked, glistening woman, all that new muscle and height blocking out the dim light behind her like a goddess descending from someplace higher. she looked down at you, like she was considering what to do with you.

"You know what I realized?" she said, her voice soft and wondering. "I've been so focused on getting bigger, on growing and changing, that I forgot to enjoy what that means." Her hand moving to the back of your head, and you gasped. "I forgot how good it feels to be worshipped."

Your mouth opened, but no words came. You just stared up at her, at the way her chest rose and fell with each breath, at the muscle definition in her stomach that hadn't been there two days ago, at the powerful thighs that framed her sex like a doorway.

"You want to worship me, don't you?" she asked, and there was something hungry in her voice. Something that made your cock throb in her grip.

"Yes," you managed, and the word came out raw, scraped from somewhere deep in your chest.

She smiled, and it was the same smile she'd given you on your first date, the same smile she'd given you when she'd knelt on the floor and told you about her secret. But it sat differently now. More certain. More knowing.

"Then show me," she said, as she swiftly pushed your face into her soaked pussy.