+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Only certain people can read the following story: Over 18, gay or gay sympathetic and any senior citizen. All others: the boat is leaving soon, please go ashore. Thanks...I am about to "blow" the whistle. Bye bye. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Young Again
I was in this gay bar. The first time I had ever gone into such a place. I was explaining this to the flamboyant queen who sat on my right. He/she didn't believe me. "Oh Honey, I've heard those stories before. You are as pure as the driven snow."
My name is Keith Brandon. I just turned sixty years old. I don't feel sixty. I very healthy and fairly energetic. But when I pass a mirror I don't see the young me, I see a dignified, almost completely gray "gentlemen". How I hate that word. I'd rather look like a piano mover, sloppy and fat.
My wife died two years ago. I didn't seem interested in finding another woman and I guess I went back to the sexual being I was before I was married. I was young, very good looking; built like a brick shit house, and I was hung and hungry. I must have had sex at least twice a day. I never had a moments difficulty in finding a hot partner. But the second time around, it is completely different. Let me give you an illustration. There is a peep show house on the highway leading out of town. There are about twenty booths. Inside you can chose gay or straight movies to watch. You can stay as long as you wish, except you have to keep feeding dollars in the craw of the machine.
When you put in your money a red light comes on over the door. That means the booth is occupied. If you want privacy, you can latch the chain across the opening. If you want company, leave the chain off. I went there a few times but it was really depressing. I sat on the bench, stroked my not insignificant cock and waited. There were some great looking dudes. They would come in, peek around the corner at me and then leave. Obviously they wanted young stuff.
Here I was a that gay bar, telling the old queen more or less what I told you. She/he actually seemed sympathetic. I even noticed a small tear form in one eye, unless the mascara was bothering it (I mean the eye.)
I got so maudlin that I reached into my pocket, took out my billfold and exhibited a picture I had of me in the Navy. "Oh my sweet cakes, you were gorgeous. How old were you in this picture?" I told her nineteen. "I was once nineteen myself, Cora over there said I was a drummer boy in the Civil War. But that's not true." He/she leaned over to me. She was quite drunk I think but how could I judge I was halfway to passing out myself. "Confidentially Cora is six months older than me." I asked her how old Cora was. "Oh no your sly puss, I'm not going to give you that information. After all, I have my reputation."
I looked over at Cora. While Sal (the one next to me) resembled a blowsy senior citizen who went crazy in the makeup department, Cora was slim, still glamorous, looking a bit like an old ballet dancer. There was something sinister about her. She was the witch in Cinderella.
Sal excused herself: "To tinkle," she said coyly. As soon as her barstool was empty, Cora moved in. She stuck a perfumed cigarette in her rhinestone studded holder, which was 15 inches long, and put her head in her hands and stared at me. "How would you like to make a pact with the devil? A pack that could make you nineteen years old again."
"Aw right," I slurred, my elbow slipping off the bar. "What do I have to do, give up me soul?"
"No all you have to do is give me oral sex."
I flinched. "I don't think so."
"Even to be young."
"W-e-e-l-l" I started to say then I blanked out or passed out. I was a little aware of Cora, much stronger than I would have imagined, carrying me out to a taxi. "Where are Sal?" I asked ungrammatically. Cora hushed me and said I gave her the longest piss you has ever had. She smoothed my forehead. Actually it felt nice as long as I didn't open my eyes and look at Miss Sunset Boulevard. At my apartment building she called the doorman. He and she helped me up to the elevator and then my apartment. Everything is very dim in my mind. I remember Cora undressing me. "Very nice," she muttered, "For an old bastard. Big meat too. I wonder if it still works."
I vaguely remember a sixty nine. Not Cora's age but the actual act. I was so drunk I really didn't care.
"Bye Honey. I'll just get my wrap and be off."
I must have been ten hours that I slept but it was worth it. I felt excellent, full of energy ready to take on the world. My jaw was a little sore, as if I had opened it too wide for one of those big sandwiches. Anyway, I got up and did what every guy does first. I headed to the bathroom to take a piss. I had a very stiff, morning hard on. I can't remember having this piss problem since I was a kid. I pushed it down but then I sealed off the pipe. The only thing I could do would be to stand on my head because the dick was hard against my stomach. Now that was peculiar. The last decade or so I have been looking my up-tilt in favor of a downward tendency. 'Oh well,' I thought, 'I'll forget the piss for the moment and take a shower. I slipped off my tee shirt and underwear shorts and got the shower on to warm up. I looked down at my feet. Hey I never noticed what very excellent feet I have, no corns or bunions, nicely trimmed nails and cute little hairs on eye toe. "Hairs!" I said aloud. My toe hairs disappeared many years ago along with the hair on my lower legs. Lower legs! The hair was abundant and glossy black, even on my knees. I hoped I was getting so glandular condition. I scratch my balls. Um, that felt good. I got hard again. I'm as quick to bone up as a teenager I said to my reflection in the mirror. MY REFLECTION! That couldn't be my reflection. It was me but me, maybe forty years ago or more. My body was as it was then, great round perky butt, narrow 30 inch waist, firm pecs and my old six pack. In addition the skin was the skin of a teenager: glossy, smooth, fine grained...beautiful. And my chest hair, I only had a cute little oval in the center of my pecs. I looked down, only a faint boyish trail led to my pubic hair, not the heavy gray trail I had yesterday. My cock was full, my balls firm. I looked and looked, falling in love for me. Look at my face, no lines, my lips ruddy my eyes bright and my hairline...oh my hairline...it was back with that wonderful widows peak in front that always was envied by my friends. I staggered into the bedroom, sat on the edge of my bed, on my elegant ass, and wondered if I was really aware. I glanced at the bed, there were heavy cum stains, then I remembered weird Cora. She was a witch, but the good witch Glenda, look what she did for me. That turned out to be the best blow job I ever gave.
I hopped into the shower, making nice to my young stud body, soaping luxuriously. As I dried off I weighed myself. I am about 6 feet tall and yesterday I weighed a paunchy 200. Today the scale stopped at 172.
My clothes were too old for me and definitely too loose. I did the best I could by tightened up the belt but there weren't enough holes to keep the pants up snugly. I kept my car in the garage under the building. "Hi Joe. Can you get the car up here." He called out cheerfully (I tip the hell out of him) "The Porche will be right up." He looked at me. "Who are you?" I thought quickly. "I'm Mr. Brandon's nephew. Didn't he say it was OK for me to take the car. Look at have the key and registration." He looked at me carefully. "Well I'll have to say there sure is a family resemblance." The car came up and he wished me a good day.
It was now getting toward twelve noon. I parked at the Mall and picked out a good youth store: Abercrombie and Fitch. I told the tall blond and gay salesman that I needed a whole wardrobe. "I can see that, child. You looked dressed for Halloween." He walked around, picked some tops, shorts and slacks. "I'd say you are in old fashioned terms a thirty-nine long. We don't sell suits but that it a quick way of sizing you. Now you take these into the try on room and if you need help, just call. I'll wait outside."
I tried everything on. I looked great enough to eat and I hoped the boys will think so. I had trouble with a pair of orange cargo shorts and I stood in my white boxers and called the salesman in. "I'm having a little difficulty here with these." He stared at my legs, my crotch. "Is something wrong," I asked innocently. He started to talk but he appeared to be hoard. He cleared his throat. "We have to get rid of those old man's under ware." Then he realized what he said. "I mean, as soon as you leave this store, get over to Macy's and get some bikinis. I wish I could fit you but I have to stay here." The kid was actually red in the face and his forehead was moist. He kept one hand in his pocket and you and I know why.
I stopped in the food court for a coffee and one of those tooth-aching buns. Girls and guys eyed me, as I strolled across the floor in my shorts and athletic top.
Afterwards I bought and put on one pair of red bikinis then I retrieved my car and headed...where do you think...the XXX Peeps.
I walked down the aisle between the booths. I heard sighs as I passed. I got a few taps on the ass also. I entered a booth, put on a hot movie about Austrian Boys in the Country. Very hot. Guys seemed to hang out outside of my booth. I guess they thought I was too young and too good looking to chance a refusal. Finally one kid, one of the very ones who curled his lip when I sidled into his booth last week, came in. He advanced very slowly, not sure I would accept him. People rarely talk, so he jumped when I said, "What's your name." Billy he replied. "Come on in Billy. Let's see the goods." He was not used to being talked to like that. He was the star of the peeps. Everyone wanted him.
He started to resist. "Take 'em off or take off." I said roughly. He liked that. I was feeling my power. He meekly slipped his tee shirt over his head. He had a dancers muscles, very nice. "And the pants too, boy." Down they went, resting on his ankles. He stood only in his Calvins. He looked at me, wondering what was next. I could see some of the others trying to crane to see what was going on. "On your knees."
He looked at pleadingly. "It's all dirty and cummy on the floor."
"Ok," I said," then get dressed and go." You could see the indecision in his fine eyes but lust won out. He sighed a shuttering sign and sunk to his knees. He zipped my shorts open, slid my bikinis aside and threaded my already firming up cock out into the open. He eyes it hungrily and then pounced. His young lips moved around the head, his smooth, hot tongue licked the slit. He wet it good and then swallowed the whole nine inches. He moaned while he worked, he went slow, he went fast, he tickled my balls and fingered by anus. I was getting there fast. I decided for the first cum of the day, I would just let it happen and happen it did. I had forgotten how a nineteen year old's cum is like. It builds and builds and then you almost die as it begins, shot and shots until at last you are finished and feel good and a little sleepy.
I looked down at the kid. He was looking up at me in horror. "You fucker, you tricked me. You're old."
He ran out and I dressed and looked in the mirror in the men's room. There was my old self. What Cora hadn't told me is that I would change to a youth via blow job but the very next one would return me to the age of sixty. I left the Peeps, young guys flattening themselves against the wall so I wouldn't touch them.
'Oh well,' I thought it's better to have been blown and lost than never to have been blown at all.
The End
The moral of this story is that if you have a Fairy in your clutches, don't ask for one wish....ask for a wishing ring.