Second Prime - Part 1 (Patreon)

Logan battled with his thoughts and pride for a while, trying to convince himself to attend the appointment. He knew it wasn’t a big deal, but he also knew that the endocrinologist would have to ask awkward questions before finding a good solution. Still, Logan eventually found himself sitting in the waiting area at the clinic, constantly shifting positions and shaking his hands—nervous that someone might see him there.

The clinic was an hour away from Logan’s hometown, clean and quiet in a way that felt intentional. He had scheduled the appointment for the early morning, thinking that he’d find fewer people than in later hours. Still, sitting there, Logan couldn’t help but feel exposed even though he was the only one waiting.

When the secretary called him in, Logan took a deep breath and walked into the doctor’s office already shaking in a combination of shame and excitement.

“Dr. Wright will be with you in a second,” the secretary said as Logan took a seat.

He looked around for a moment, scanning the boards and charts on the wall, all showing parts of the human anatomy. Logan had always been a healthy man, so finding himself in a place like this office still felt odd. Then, about a minute later, the door opened, and Logan turned to look. His eyes widened, and his composure immediately cracked at the sight.

The doctor was stunning to say the least—far from the older man Logan was expecting.

Dr. Wright moved with an imposing grace that left Logan momentarily speechless. It felt like the world shifted around his size. The man was tall, at about 6’2”, but it wasn’t only that; it was his density. His body looked compacted and reinforced, like every inch had been built thicker than necessary. His posture was solid and unshakable, showcasing the shape and size of his muscles even more.

He was the type of man who drew attention even without trying to.

The doctor was striking in a way that felt almost unfair. Dark hair—nearly black—cut short on the sides and slightly longer on top, neat without looking styled. His jaw was square and sharply defined, so his whole face looked flawless and structured. His lips were full—just enough to look inviting—and his nose was straight and clean. But it was his eyes that held attention the longest—bright blue; not cold, but intensely focused, like he never missed what was happening around him.

Logan’s eyes drifted lower, widening a little bit more.

Dr. Wright’s chest was broad and deep—thick slabs of muscle that rose high and stayed there, pushing his dress shirt outward so the fabric never relaxed. The buttons across were under visible tension, and their line pulled slightly every time Adrian moved. His shoulders were enormous, round, and capped, sitting high and wide to make his whole frame look impressive. The V of his torso was almost breathtaking: a massive chest tapering into a tight waist that made the proportions almost exaggerated.

His arms were thick all the way down. The sleeves hugged his biceps and triceps like they’d been tailored and still come up short. When he moved, the muscle shifted slowly under the fabric, and Logan would’ve sworn the seams protested each time. Even his forearms looked dense, with veins running along them even at rest.

Lower down, the effect only continued. Dr. Wright’s slacks pulled snug across powerful thighs that filled the fabric to its limit, leaving no doubt about the strength underneath. When he walked, the material stretched across his hips and ass, outlining a lower body that looked just as powerful as his upper half. It all only worked to accentuate the massive bulge at the front, where Logan could see the outline of balls too massive to be true and a cock too thick to go unnoticed.

The lab coat didn’t close—it couldn’t. It hung open, draped around the doctor’s shoulders like it had given up trying, pulling tight across his back and arms instead. When he turned, the coat outlined the full width of his torso beneath. Instead of hiding him, it framed him—like a white border around a body that didn’t need an introduction.

The moment lasted barely a few seconds as the doctor walked across the room and sat right across from his patient. But for Logan, the whole scene felt like it lasted an eternity as he couldn’t stop staring at the breathtaking man.

“Logan Mercer?” Dr. Wright asked with a deep, masculine voice that made Logan’s chest vibrate. “My name’s Adrian Wright. You could call me Dr. Wright or Adrian. I’m fine with either,” he added, smiling kindly at Logan.

That smile made Logan melt slightly. He had to shake his head and swallow hard to regain his composure. He had never been attracted to men. It had never crossed his mind to feel like this about a man. But this doctor had this powerful effect on him that was impossible to resist. It felt odd, but also strangely right.

Adrian leaned forward and offered his hand to a still startled Logan. They shook hands, and Logan couldn’t help but admire Adrian’s firm grip. But at the same time, the contact made him feel too aware of the immense difference between them. He noticed the slight give in his hand, the sudden weakness of his wrist, and how his posture softened while Dr. Wright’s looked solid and imposing.

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally said, barely audible.

The doctor smiled again, and Logan sighed loudly without meaning to.

“So,” Adrian said, looking at the charts for a few seconds, then up at Logan again. “Tell me what’s been going on.”

Logan hesitated for a moment, rubbing the back of his neck like he was deciding how honest he wanted to be. “I guess the short version is things just don’t feel the same anymore,” he said. “I’m constantly tired, a lot more than I used to be. Not like normal tired, but literally drained. I wake up, and it already feels like I’ve been working all day.”

He shifted slightly in the chair.

“My strength’s different too,” Logan went on. “I’m still strong. I can still lift, still work. But it doesn’t feel reliable. Some days I go to move something that used to be nothing for me, and my body doesn’t respond the way I expect.”

Adrian nodded slightly, letting him continue.

“And recovery,” Logan added, shaking his head a little. “That’s the one that really gets me. I used to bust my ass all day on a site, sleep, and be ready to do it again the next morning. Now, if I push hard, I feel it for days. Joints, muscles—you know what I mean?” He paused again, glancing down at his hands before adding the last part. “And there’s other stuff,” he said, more casually than he felt. “Libido and desire. That kind of thing. It’s not gone, but it’s slower. Less automatic than it used to be.”

He shrugged slightly, like he was trying to downplay it. “It just feels like something’s off,” Logan finished. “Like my body isn’t keeping up with itself anymore.”

Dr. Wright listened, really listened. He didn’t interrupt or react, only nodded occasionally, writing notes down. He looked at Logan’s face, his posture, and the way he moved while he spoke. He was professional all along, but there was a faint grin on his face that looked playful.

“Okay. How’s your sleep?” Adrian asked.

“Bad,” Logan admitted.

“Stress?” the doctor continued.

Logan let out a short breath. “Yeah. A lot.”

“Sounds like you came to the right place. We’ll run a full panel,” Adrian said, nodding. “Blood work. Hormones. We’ll look at everything.”

Logan nodded and felt something loosening in his chest. He hadn’t found a solution to the issues yet, but something in the doctor’s voice made it feel like those words were true: he had come to the right place.

They took some time to gather all the samples, but the waiting was worse than the appointment. When the results finally came back, Adrian didn’t dramatize them. He turned the screen slightly so Logan could see, pointing as he explained.

“Your testosterone is low,” the doctor said plainly. “Not catastrophically low. But low enough to matter. I figured it was the case the moment you described the symptoms,” he continued calmly. “It explains the fatigue, the delayed response, the softness.”

Adrian didn’t call it failure, framing it as a natural decline that could come with age. He used words like “imbalance,” “disruption,” “treatable,” and “correctable,” which made everything sound not that bad but still hit Logan hard.

“There are options,” Adrian continued. “Some standard. Some less so.” He paused, watching Logan carefully. “There’s one treatment I want to discuss with you.” He stood, crossed the room, and returned with an unlabeled jar.

He set it down between them, and Logan scanned it. Inside was a thick, opaque white liquid that looked dense, almost heavy, like it resisted movement even while sitting still.

“One cup a day,” Adrian said. “It’s experimental. Personal. Results tend to show quickly.”

Logan stared at it. The simplicity of it felt wrong and risky, as if asking for more trust than he was used to giving. “Is it safe? What is it?”

“It’s 100% natural. I can assure you,” Adrian explained. “It’s a mix I made myself, and I’ve tested it personally. So I’m the proof that it works,” he said, playfully bouncing his pecs and winking at Logan.

“Oh. Okay,” Logan said, swallowing hard at the statement as his mind immediately lit up with the idea of getting as big as the doctor. “How long will it take for me to look like—I mean, to see results?” he asked, blushing.

“It depends on your body. But based on the information you’ve given us and the fact that you’re a healthy man, I’d say you’ll notice the difference within a few days,” Adrian said, pushing the jar forward so Logan could see it more closely. “You’d need to come back once it’s empty. We’d monitor everything closely.”

“So I must come back?” Logan asked, staring at Adrian’s handsome face.

“Yes,” the doctor replied firmly. “I’d like to keep a close eye on how it works on your system, so I think we will be seeing each other pretty often if you decide to go through this.”

That sealed the deal. Something shifted in Logan’s chest. If Adrian trusted this thing with his own body—with everything he clearly embodied—and it meant they would have to see each other again, the doubts suddenly faded away.

Logan nodded slowly. “Alright.”

Adrian’s mouth turned into a smirk. “Good. I’ll be happy to work with you.”

When Logan left the office, he was holding the jar as if it were a treasure. His posture already felt different as he walked down the hall. He knew nothing had changed—not yet—but he was excited to see what the doctor’s formula would do for him.

All the way back to his hometown, he couldn’t stop looking at the jar in the passenger seat. He should have been watching the road more closely than he was, but his eyes kept drifting sideways. His mind kept circling back to the appointment. He repeated the doctor’s words in his head. But more than anything, he kept replaying in his mind each movement, each inch of his clothes straining—especially at the chest.

Logan flexed his fingers against the steering wheel and let out a long breath.

He had spent his entire life around strong men—construction crews, athletes, workers—but Adrian Wright had been something else entirely. Part of Logan felt a flicker of jealousy when he thought about it. The kind that came without bitterness. It was only the awareness of what another man seemed to have so easily, while Logan himself was losing.

But there was something else beneath that feeling, and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Logan shifted slightly in the seat, clearing his throat. He had never been interested in men—he knew with absolute certainty. Still, the memory of Adrian’s body returned in strange ways, and his body reacted to it in a way Logan hadn’t expected. It wasn’t dramatic, but he could feel his cock stirring in his pants even as he tried to focus on the road ahead. 

“Damn it,” Logan whispered in confusion. “What the hell is wrong with you, Mercer?” He rolled his shoulders and focused on the drive again, but the thoughts were still there.

Work helped, at least for a while. Logan parked at one of his construction sites like he always did, and workers greeted him with nods as soon as he stepped out of the car. Someone shouted a question about measurements. Another asked about a delivery scheduled for the afternoon. Logan answered automatically, shifting into his professional mode as he walked the site, checking beams and reviewing blueprints.

But the jar stayed in the back of his mind the entire time.

Now and then, he caught himself staring off in the wrong direction while someone was talking. Once, he actually lost track of what a foreman had just asked him.

“You alright, boss?” the man said.

Logan blinked and shook his head. “Yeah. Just thinking. Say that again.”

He forced himself to focus after that, but the distraction never really left.

By the time evening arrived, he was ready to leave earlier than usual. And as soon as he got in his car, his phone buzzed with a notification—a text from Michael, and Logan smiled.

“Hey, Dad! Dinner tonight? Laura made too much food again.”

Logan stared at the message longer than he normally would. Usually, he would have accepted without hesitation because he loved to spend time with his family—the noise, kids, and food combination was too perfect to decline.

But tonight something else pulled harder, so he typed slowly. “Long day. I think I’m just gonna crash tonight.”

A moment later, the reply came. “Alright, old man. Get some rest.”

The drive home felt longer than usual, though he suspected that was just anticipation. So, when he arrived home, Logan went straight to the kitchen. He pulled a large glass from the cabinet and set it on the counter. The lid twisted free with a soft pop, and the scent hit him almost immediately.

He blinked in surprise. “Huh,” he murmured. “It smells good.”

It wasn’t a sweet scent—not exactly. Not savory either. Something deeper than that. It felt oddly salty but with a warm, almost earthy note beneath it. Logan couldn’t describe it, but the first word that came to mind was strangely simple.

“Masculine,” he said softly, barely audible.

The formula inside the jar looked even thicker up close. It was creamy, white, and slow to move when Logan tilted the container. It clung to the glass in heavy folds instead of flowing freely. Curious, Logan dipped a finger in and rubbed the substance between his fingers. It felt slick at first, then slightly sticky as it warmed against his skin.

He tasted a small amount without thinking much about it and paused. The flavor surprised him. There was the salty edge he expected, but beneath it was a faint sweetness that rounded everything out.

“That’s not bad,” he admitted.

Curiosity pushed aside the last of his hesitation. Logan poured the formula into the glass until it was nearly full. The thick liquid slid slowly over the rim of the jar and settled heavily into the glass. He lifted it, studying it for a moment, then glanced down at his body.

“Well,” he said softly. “Here we go.”

He drank, almost too eagerly. The formula was thicker than anything he normally drank, but it went down smoothly. The taste filled his mouth and throat as he swallowed again and again until the glass was empty. He lowered it slowly, breathing out through his nose as it all settled in his stomach.

Something spread from there almost immediately. Logan inhaled deeply without meaning to, expanding his chest as the sensation rolled outward through his body. His whole body felt more alive, as if his lungs had filled more easily than before.

“Okay,” he said, smiling. “It feels great already.”

He knew it might have been a placebo—it probably was. Still, the sensation was undeniable, as if his body had awakened.

Logan glanced back at the jar. “One cup a day,” he whispered, remembering the doctor’s words. He studied the empty glass, then the jar again. The rational side of him knew he should stop there, but another thought took over. “If one cup worked, would two make it work faster?”

He rubbed a hand along his jaw and chuckled softly at himself. He was a careful man most of the time, but this was different. Curiosity won, and he poured another glass. The second serving went down just as easily as the first. By the time he set the glass down again, the sensation in his body had grown stronger. It wasn’t overwhelming or dramatic, but it felt like something deep inside had started moving again after a long rest.

Logan stood there for a while afterward, resting his hands on the counter. He flexed his fingers and rolled his shoulders, letting the sensation spread through his limbs. Nothing had changed physically, but his body felt awake. He caught himself tightening his chest slightly, then relaxing again, curious about the sensation.

Eventually, he sealed the jar and placed it carefully in the back of the refrigerator, tucked behind a few containers where it wouldn’t be obvious if someone came by. Old habits die hard. Even now, he thought about Michael or Cory wandering into the kitchen during a visit, and the last thing he wanted was for his grown sons to find out he was taking something experimental to increase his testosterone levels.

Even the idea of it felt shameful enough that he couldn’t let it happen.

Logan headed for the bedroom after that, stripping out of his work clothes and tossing them into the laundry basket before stepping into the shower. The water came down hot across his shoulders and back, washing away the dust and sweat from the day.

He soaped up slowly, moving his hands across his familiar muscles. His chest still felt the same under his hands—broad, heavy, slightly softer than it used to be. His arms were still thick. His abdomen still pushed forward slightly when he relaxed. But there was something different in how it all felt under his touch.

He breathed in deeply again, letting the water run over him. And for some reason, his mind drifted back to Adrian Wright—his broad chest, the thick arms, and the overly strained slacks that could barely hold on around his hips, ass, and bulge.

Logan found himself smiling slightly under the spray. “What the hell?” He said to himself, feeling his cock stiffen between his legs.

It had been a while since the last time his body had reacted so easily and fast to these types of thoughts, and it was the first time it had happened while thinking about a man. He looked down and saw his cock rising to full mast within seconds, looking hard as steel and furiously pumped.

Logan hesitated for a second, but the sudden horniness took over his mind too strongly. His hand moved to his cock and firmly gripped it, stroking it a few times as his thoughts went back to Dr. Wright’s body.

“Damn it,” he whispered, closing his eyes as his hand kept stroking his cock. “Well, if you’re willing to follow the flow—nobody will know anyway,” he said to himself.

He smirked and let his body loose. It was one of the things that he had been missing lately, the quick response and the intoxicating need to bust a nut. Even if the thought had been sparked by a man, Logan wasn’t about to stop himself from enjoying it. And more than anything, he looked forward to what the formula would do next.

...

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PS: AI Generated image only meant to illustrate the scene.