Author's note: Big thanks to Exluke1 for comments and thoughts.
*
Teejay was a spry, wiry 20 year old man in the prime of his life. He was confident, athletically gifted and surprisingly strong. He stood to about 5'10" and weighed about 150 pounds. He had short black hair and dark brown eyes. He was gay, but there was nothing effeminate about him.
Even though he'd never been attracted to women, he couldn't help noticing that his mom was blessed with the most magnificent set of breasts. They were large, firm, well-rounded and overflowing, and they turned heads wherever she went. His twin sister had inherited their mother's genes. Hers were almost like balloons. She didn't ever mean to, but she drove the college boys wild. It was like a superpower she couldn't control. It felt like a different boy asked her out every week. Most of the time she declined -- her grades were much more important than boys.
He was a natural athlete. After graduating from his Sacramento high school with unspectacular grades, he accepted a track scholarship at a college in Texas. He focused on sprints, especially the 100 and 200 metres events, as well as the long jump. His hero was Carl Lewis, and he had a poster of him on his bedroom wall to inspire him when he woke up each morning. He wanted what Carl had won -- Olympic gold medals and world records. His major was in business studies, so if athletics didn't work out for him, he'd hopefully have something to fall back on.
Teejay loved his mom and his twin sis with all his heart. He'd always felt especially close to his sister, and very protective of her. Moving away from home wasn't easy. He missed them both terribly, and they constantly kept in touch through emails and phone calls. He visited them whenever he could.
Teejay couldn't remember much of his dad. His parents had separated, and then divorced, when he and his twin sister were still young. Growing up, he was the only male in a female household, and he'd lost count of the number of times he'd been hectored to put the toilet seat down after he peed. Even the female family cat meowed at him. But toilet seat politics were trivial. When he told his mother and sister that he was gay, they hugged him like there was no tomorrow. He felt accepted, understood and loved. He'd never know how his biological father might've reacted, but it didn't matter.
His mom was Filipino, as was his dad. He'd inherited something of the lithe yet muscly south-east Asian physique, hence his athletic prowess. Unfortunately, he'd also inherited the Filipino dick, which meant his penis was a little smaller than average. He wished it was bigger, but there wasn't a lot he could do about it. He compensated by working hard to make everything else about his body larger than life. He worked on his calves, thighs and upper arms whenever he was at the gym, and he was especially proud of his biceps, but it was his beautiful, brown hairless chest that always got the most of his attention, the most of his time, and the most of his love.
To pass the time and clear his head, he spent many hours pumping iron at his local gym. He worked on each of his major muscle groups, but he usually spent a disproportionate amount of time toning his pecs. He was proud of his work, and he could tell from the silent awed reactions of other gymgoers that his results were impressive. At home, just before taking a shower, he'd watch himself in the mirror as he pumped his naked pecs up and down.
Many of the women who frequented his gym were almost hypnotised by the beauty of his chest. They'd love to feel his weight bearing down upon them. Some tried to initiate small-talk with him, and a smaller fraction asked him out, but Teejay was really only ever interested in the reactions of other guys. He wasn't the only male gymrat who worked hard on his upper body, but nobody else could compare to the perfection of his own frame. He was the yardstick that others measured themselves by and strived to emulate.
Someone at the gym had mocked up a parody of the Jaws movie poster and had left some flyers at the front desk. The word JAWS was replaced by PECS, written in the same bold blood-red font. The hungry shark's open mouth had gone, and in its place was a slightly blurry picture of Teejay's perfectly sculpted chest -- someone must've taken a sneaky pic of him in the change room. And in italics, underneath the pic of Teejay's huge pecs, was the phrase: 'Just when you thought it was safe to come back to the gym'.
The parody posters were a massive ego-boost to Teejay. He took one to show his sister next time he went home.
Some gym buddies asked why he spent so much time working on his chest when his athletic specialty was track. Teejay never had a convincing answer. He generally replied that he worked hard enough on his legs, his core and his cardio to keep his energy, stamina and splits where they ought to be. His chest was a personal project.
*
One night, after a viciously hard workout, Teejay lay in bed, about to drift off to sleep. He'd eaten, showered, and had just finished jacking off to a clip of some cocky, muscly eighteen-year-old who teased the viewer mercilessly with his beautiful, suckable pecs. The clip wasn't aimed at someone like Teejay, it was aimed at betas who got off on being dominated and humiliated, but that didn't stop him from spilling a fat load. Teejay had to admit that the arrogant dude in the clip had some serious pecs, and he wondered if he should shoot some clips of his own.
As he slowly drifted off to sleep, Teejay's mother's and sister's breasts came into his mind's eye, and just for a second, he wondered what he'd look like if he had a pair of breasts of his own.
It came in his dream.
He dreamed he was walking down the street on a regular day. The air was pleasantly warm, the sky was blue though dotted with a few light, fluffy cumulus clouds, and he felt relaxed and content. He was running a few errands, but nothing was urgent. He walked at his usual pace.
In his dream, men were staring at him in absolute lust. Women were, too, but he didn't care about them. He was used to being ogled in real life, but something in his dream felt different, though he couldn't work out what it was. The way he was being stared at suggested something about his physical appearance was different. He couldn't get the pieces to fit -- he felt perfectly normal.
He ducked into a public bathroom and peered at his upper body in the mirror. There they were -- a pair of enormous tits, stretching the buttons of his shirt to breaking point. They looked amazing. They were huge, firm, and appeared to be defying gravity. He touched himself, very tentatively -- fuck, they felt amazing too. He found a nipple and discovered they were large and coarse. His areolas were large. He pinched his nipple and his jaw dropped as waves of sexual pleasure flooded his brain. Blood flooded the shaft of his rapidly growing cock.
Teejay woke up from the dream with a massive, insistent erection. He threw back the covers, teased a nipple with his fingertips and urgently jacked himself off. He moaned as his sperm drenched his chest, abdomen and groin. He ate his seed, savouring the flavour. After a quick gulp of water from the bottle on his bedside table, he drifted off to sleep again.
Teejay woke the following morning, and out of sheer post-dream curiosity, he googled plastic surgeons. He found one who specialised in breast enhancement and made an appointment. He wasn't committed to anything, he just wanted to talk.
A month later, the doctor looked at his laptop screen and noticed his next appointment was for someone called 'TJ'. He assumed she was female. Almost his entire clientele was made up of insecure young women who wanted breast enlargements. Some of his more hypersexual clients were considering pursuing a career in porn, but most were just looking for a little more attention from the opposite sex. It was a competitive world, they'd seen other women purchase a little enhancement for themselves, and they'd seen how well it works.
The doctor thought for a moment, scratching his cheek. Maybe 'TJ' stood for Trinity Jasmine, or Teanna Jane. They were both pornworthy names.
Teejay sat in the waiting room, waiting to be called. He was wearing a college hoodie, a pair of track pants, and his Adidas training shoes. The hood was up over his head. He was checking socials on his phone when the doctor's receptionist called his name. Teejay pocketed his device.
The doctor ushered him into his room and consulted his notes, trying not to look flustered at the appearance of a male. This wasn't what he'd expected. "Hi, Teejay, nice to meet you. I'm James. Please, take a seat." This definitely wasn't a Teagan Jade.
Even through the thick fabric of his hoodie, the doctor could tell that his patient had a well-developed chest. He waited until Teejay was seated and attentive before asking his opening question. "How can I help you today?" He sat at his desk, opposite his patient.
Teejay spoke slowly and clearly. "Thank you for seeing me, Doctor James. First of all, I really appreciate your time."
On this particular score, the doctor didn't mind; he was well remunerated for his time. Seconds passed and the meter began ticking over. He glanced at Teejay and noticed he didn't appear to be nervous or unsettled. "No problem at all, Teejay. Glad to see you. And please, just call me James." He picked up a pen and a clipboard as he prepared to take some notes. He asked the question again. "How can I help you today?"
Teejay threw his hood back and began to speak. "It's kind of weird, Doctor James. I don't know where to start or how to explain it, but a few weeks ago, I had a dream."
James was perplexed. His value-add didn't come from psychoanalysis. "I'm not sure what..."
Teejay interrupted the doctor. "I had a pair of tits."
The doctor's pen froze. He said nothing.
