“See? I told you you’d like cigars–you’re manly enough for them,” Bruce said, watching his roommate, Phil take a deep drag off the cigar, still dressed in his suit from work, his eyes starting to glaze over a bit as he moaned. A five o’clock shadow sprouted up on his smooth face suddenly, and Bruce couldn’t help but run his hand along it, watching him shiver.

“Fuck–I feel so…”

“Manly? Butch?” Bruce finished. He was slender and smaller than his roommate, and he got down on his knees in front of him, unzipping the front of his suit, pulling out Phil’s cock and he sucked it down. Bruce tried to stop him, he wasn’t gay, and he’d had no idea Bruce swung that way, but when he tried to push him off,  he grabbed Bruce’s hair instead and started fucking his face roughly, inhaling more and more of the smoke. “Fuck…boy…”

“No,” Bruce said, pulling away, and looking a bit annoyed, “Not your boy–I’m gonna be your son.”

Phil just stared at him, his stubble now a beard, his suit fitting awkwardly against his body, which was bulking up with muscle and fat as he sat there. His head was foggy too, and it was hard to think about anything other than how much he wanted to fuck Bruce right now. “Get–Get back down there and finish me off, you fucker…” he said gruffly, in a voice an octave too deep.

“Nuh uh, not until you say it. You know you want to be a daddy, right? You want a son you can abuse, a manly son like you are. You don’t want a skinny twink like me, do you?”

Bruce leaned in closer and ran a finger down the thickening shaft of Phil’s cock, and unable to help himself, he waited until after Bruce had inhaled off the cigar, and then grabbed the sides of his head, and locked lips with him, sucking the smoke from his lungs. Phil didn’t really know what was going on, but he let the smoke pass between them, feeding it to his roommate, and then felt Bruce push back into him, back and forth for who knew how long, until Bruce finally let go and stumbled back.

Phil did a double take–Bruce looked completely different–in fact, he looked like…he did. He was shorter, but much stockier, growing out of his own clothes, and seeing him lick his lips…his son lick his lips, Phil growled and stood up, ripping the clothes off him, and sucking on his son’s neck, marking him, feeling him squirm, and then he shoved him down on his knees. “Suck it, son–suck daddy’s big cock.”