Beach bod

The saltwater sting hit his eyes first—then came the impossible pressure, his ribs cracking inward as his girlfriend's scream distorted underwater. His fingers scraped sand as his shoulders wrenched backward, flesh surging outward in hot waves that shoved his swim trunks down past suddenly jutting hips. "Oh fuck—" his voice splintered into a breathy gasp as 40 pounds of blonde hair whipped across his swelling chest, the weight of his new body slamming him knees-first into the surf as twin orbs of warm fat breached the surface beside him, bobbing violently with each panicked breath. His girlfriend's shadow loomed over him, her manicured toes curling in wet sand. "Jesus Christ," she whispered, "you're... leaking."

His hands—smaller now, nails glossy and tipped in chipped coral polish—fumbled at the dripping cups of flesh straining against his ruined swim top. Milky droplets pearled along the swollen curves, rolling down to blend with seawater. The girlfriend's choked laugh cut through the roar of blood in his ears. "Guess we're skipping the sunscreen today," she said, crouching to hook a finger under the elastic digging into his thigh, her other hand already reaching for her phone. "Hold still, I need video of this before you—oh fuck, your hips are still growing—" The wet pop of stitches tearing echoed as his ass split the remaining fabric clean in half.

A guttural moan ripped from his throat—no, hers now—as the expansion didn't stop, flesh surging outward in relentless pulses that sent her sprawling onto all fours, the drag of her new weight leaving deep trenches in the sand. Saltwater sloshed between her trembling thighs, each wave lapping at skin stretched tight over hips now twice their original width. The girlfriend's phone clattered to the ground as she grabbed a handful of dripping blonde hair, yanking her head back to expose the frantic rise and fall of her chest. "Look at you," she hissed, thumb smearing a thick bead of milk across her bottom lip. "You're gonna fucking drown in yourself if this doesn't stop—" The sentence died as another seam gave way, the last shreds of fabric spinning away in the tide like some bizarre mating ritual.

Her knees sank deeper into the wet sand as another surge of heat bloomed low in her belly—something slick and unmistakable soaked the inside of her thighs, mixing with the seawater in a way that made her whimper. The girlfriend's fingers tightened in her hair, dragging her head back further until she could see the way her own breasts heaved, nipples dark and pebbled against the salt air. "Fuck, you're enjoying this," the girlfriend breathed, pressing a knee between her trembling legs, the rough scrape of sand against oversensitive skin drawing a broken moan. A thick strand of saliva connected her lips as she panted, the relentless swell of her hips forcing her thighs wider apart—until the first real wave of pleasure hit, wringing a scream from her throat that sent seagulls scattering from the pier.