Party Like It's 2045 - New Story From Ark
Mar 16, 2021 18:57:49 GMT -6
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niddlyby43, VioletJames, and 6 more like this
Post by ark on Mar 16, 2021 18:57:49 GMT -6
Hi all!
I've just finished a chunky story I've been writing since the tail end of last year. As per, it's a middle-aged AP romp. Drop a like if you enjoy it. I had a lot of fun with this one. (Posting from my phone, so excuse the formatting. I'll tidy it up later).
Party like it's 2045 - Ark
Ellie adjusted her sparky silver hotpants and sequined tube top – a bizarre flashy and revealing outfit for a brisk early December evening, but the mysterious party flier had suggested they dress futuristic:
**Party like it's 2045
For one night only, experience the not-so-far-flung future. Are you ready go see a reflection of your destiny?
Dress appropriately for the twenty forties.**
Ellie and her loose group of freshman friends loved parties like this – pop up, underground events with a gimmick and a short guest list, normally in some converted warehouse or abandoned residence that had been jazzed up. So, Ellie and 20 or so of her mates scurried down the street, decked out in tin foil and their shiniest fabrics, looking ridiculous, already giddy on pre-drinks.
Of course, the vague futuristic dress code didn't insist upon such revealing outfits, but a group of beautiful young college students needed no excuse.
Besides, Ellie had her eyes on impressing Richard tonight - they'd been flirting for weeks now and she wanted to seal the deal – so Ellie was going to look her best and flaunt her petit, tight body regardless of the theme.
At 5’3, Ellie wasn't as tall as she'd like, but she had no other complaints about her 19-year-old body. Her minuscule waist, perky D-cups, and squat-sculped ass made her very popular with the uni lads. Her big brown eyes, pouty lower lip, and cascading dark hair certainly didn’t hurt either. She maintained a natural bronzed tan, fading slightly as it was in these winter months, which was evident by the acres of smooth flawless skin she had on display – from the hint of abs at her navel, to the peak of her ass creeping out from under her silver hotpants. Any man would be powerless to resist.
Unfortunately, Ellie wasn’t the only hot young thing after playboy Rick who’d dressed extra slutty. Mary-Anne was here, all 5’11 of her tall, limber blonde body on display in nothing but some white silk underwear, thigh high boots, and skin-tight cling film. (Because, yea, in the future everyone will wear cling film. Pffft. She looked like some knock-off Emma Frost...)
Maeve, the Irish redhead with the best hair Ellie has ever seen (she was extremely envious…), was wearing a neon green dress with a huge slit down the middle, from neck to navel, to show of her pale skin and gravity defying freckled cleavage.
And Talie, the curvy “nerd” with her died purple hair and enormous boobs – who’d come in a French maids’ outfit with a bit of tin-foil draped around the edges, displaying creamy cleavage that would draw the eye from 20 feet away.
There were other girls as well in their little rabble, each sexy in their own way, but these three were Ellie’s main competitors for Rick. She knew the tall track star had fooled around with all of them over the last 6 months on one night or another. But Ellie wasn’t worried, she was objectively the hottest of the four, and as she flounced along, brushing against Rick’s arm “accidentally” whenever she could, she could tell her was already under her spell once more.
As they reached the address on the flier, they were met by a tall, middle aged doorman – it wasn’t unusual for a doorman or bouncer at these events, but they were normally some dorky teenager here for the discount drinks, not this distinguished gentleman in his top hat. His demeanour caused the group of half-drunk students to fall suddenly quiet for the welcoming spiel.
“Welcome, young ladies and gentlemen to the party of the future.” He was dressed more like a halloween tour guide than anything futuristic. Ellie hoped this party wasn’t going to be a low budget bust.
“You have come here for a glimpse at the reflection of your future. One night, out of time, out of sequence, where you may peer into the life that awaits you.” He cast an appraising gaze over the sexy youngsters and their stupid, skimpy outfits. “You were asked to dress accordingly. Only time will tell if you have listened.” The top-hatted man opened the door of the large, abandoned looking town house. "Please step into the welcome chamber and regard the mirror ahead.”
The gang noisily rushed into the large, square room – ahead of them was a huge mirror, taking up the whole wall. Ellie couldn’t help but adjust her posture and toss her hair a bit, making herself as picture perfect as possible, and a few of the other girls did the same.
Slam.
The door closed behind them. A few of the lads went “ooooohhh” ironically, but the whole group felt a little shiver go through their bodies. A large digital clock display appeared in the top corner of the mirror – a neat trick, Ellie hadn’t seen it there before. It read “2020”, just the year, nothing more.
Top hat spoke again from behind them. “Look carefully at your visage, as we take a step, through time.”
The clock ticked to 2021, then 2022. The gang murmured quietly, peering at their reflections, looking for some gimmick, expecting a jump scare or something, but for a few moments nothing seemed to be happening. 2023, then 2024 passed before Mary-Anne chimed up - “Hey, I think our reflections are changing.” She leaned in, closely inspecting her pretty face. “I don’t know, something looks different.”
2025, 2026.
Slowly, as the years ticked on, Ellie started to see what Mary-Anne meant. The puppy fat had melted away from a few of the lad’s jawlines (making Rick look even more chiselled than before). 2027, 2028. Tallies soft, teenage face looked a bit more angular than normal, more adult. Was Eric's hairline always that receeded?
Ellie leaned into her own reflection. She looked different but she couldn’t put her finger on why. Her skin had slightly less of a dewy glow, perhaps? She looked a little tired, annoyingly. Almost had bags underneath her eyes. As she stared at her frowning face, a crease suddenly appeared between her eyes and the penny dropped. “Oh my god, we look older!”
2029, 2030.
Gasps of realisation ran through the room, followed by shouts and giggles as the changes accelerated.
Fine lines crept onto the girls faces, the odd early grey hair here and there. Early blemishes that reflected the faces of mature adults back at the teenagers.
“Cool!” shouted Rick. “It must be some kind of live filter in the mirror. Like face app.”
2031, 2032.
As the decades moved on, and the reflections entered their thirties, Ellie looked on in shocked fascination as her face morphed from fresh faced sexpot to a beautiful, if slightly tired looking, mature woman. She noticed belatedly that the filter wasn't just affecting her face. Her figure was also starting to look different in the mirror.
The subtle outline of her abs had faded away, and her stomach was looking softer and less toned by the second. Her thighs also looked wider, and as she watched subtle saddlebags bulged into existence. Ellie's frown deepened – sure, this mirror trick was clever, she'd never seen anything this convincing before, but she didn’t like what she was seeing.
2033, 2034, 2035
As she looked on, she noticed her boobs shifting slightly in her reflection, their shape changing in her shiny tube top… She absentmindedly adjusted her top in the real world.
Ellie suddenly felt a sinking feeling in her chest. But no, the sinking feeling wasn't IN her chest, it WAS her chest.
Her boobs, her real-world boobs, were sagging.
Ellie screamed and clutched her faltering cleavage. “Oh My God! It's not just in the mirror, we're older! We're aging!”
Bedlam descended on the group as they tore their eyes away from the mirror to see their own flesh shift and change. The girls shrieked as they clutched widening hips and softening tummies. The lads cupped nascent beer bellies in bewilderment. Grey hairs appeared in fits and starts, and weight was piling onto nearly all of them.
2036, 2037.
The years marched on, and the group’s metamorphosis grew more drastic.
Ellie cupped her late-thirties ass as it expanded in every direction, peachy firmness quickly giving way to doughy mush. Youth and squats becoming a distant memory. Her stomach had lost all of its remaining definition and bulged over her too-tight shorts more and more by the second. Worst of all, her tiny, cinched waist was expanding rapidly, until boop, it disappeared completely, and her midriff was a blob and her figure vanished.
2038, 2039, 2040
The other girls’ bodies were now looking similarly ravaged as the formerly nubile teenagers crossed the Rubicon into their 40s.
Maeve pawed at her hair as the amazing Red faded to grey, first in strands, then streaks, and then - “No no no!” – it was all gone. And just like that, the striking redhead was completely grey - her best physical asset gone without a trace.
Mary-Anne was staring at her hands as veins grew more prominent and her knuckles grew a little gnarled. Lines and wrinkles had criss-crossed over her pretty face, and her slender neck looked loose in a way that reminded the tall blonde of her mother’s. “Eww, gross" she exclaimed as her formerly fresh face shrivelled like a raisin.
Talie’s boobs were if anything bigger, but her cleavage was noticeably wrinkled, and her chest was sinking lower with each “year". She was adjusting her hopelessly youthful French-maids outfit to deal with her drooping figure. At least her hair was still purple, even if it no longer suited her middle-aged face.
Chaos reigned in the wider group. Girl's shrieked as their curves collapsed, boys panicked as the hair fell out, everywhere you looked, young skin dried out and grew blemished.
2041, 2042, 2043
Grey hairs multiplied in Ellie's dark brown curls until she was mostly salt and pepper, her formerly luxuriant curls went limp, and her style was now hopelessly too young for her wrinkled, sagging face.
2044, 2045
Weight had continued to pile into Ellie’s hips and thighs, and as the clock ticked through it's last two years, her knees swelled and creased, putting the death knell on any shape her legs had left.
Ellie was left staring at the reflection of an overweight, tired middle-aged woman, flaunting far too much of her new podge in tiny hotpants and an inept tube top. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god. I'm old and fat and ugly! What the fuck! No way this is happening. No way.”
She looked around to the gang of barely recognisable old people with her in reception room, all clutching new folds of flesh and touching new wrinkles in horrified fascination. There were a few stunned seconds, and then the group started to look at each other.
“Oh my god,” said Marry-Ann gleefully, “look at Ellie's cellulite!”
Mortified, Ellie looked over her shoulder at her once sumptuous round ass to see it had melted down her thighs like a cheap candle. It's remnants and her now substantial thighs were riddled with the texture of cottage cheese. She screamed, and to her dismay the whole group laughed, including Rick. This was a nightmare; it couldn't be happening.
Ellie missed her opportunity to switch the attention to somebody else, but soon cruel comments were flying left right and centre.
“Eww, what happened to your boobs Talie? Gross, put them away!”
“Aww Maeve your hair! I hardly recognise you; you look like my nan!”
“Haha! Tim's gone bald! Alright slap head!”
“Jesus, Sarah’s ass is huge! OMG her jeans of split, you can see her pants!”
“As if, you're even fatter than me!”
Ellie looked around at her newly middle-aged friends with a horrible thought. Not only was she old, but she'd aged badly in comparison to her peers.
Marry-Anne looked quite severe and wrinkled, but she was still tall and slim, and clearly dyed her hair as it was still flawlessly platinum blonde. The cling film that adorned her body seemed to be hiding any bulges or blemishes, meaning the overall effect was a svelte, glamorous, if slightly older woman.
Talie’s boobs may have been saggier, but they were still quite shapely and eye catching in a way that Ellie's own dropping assets seemed to lack. Plus, Talie’s legs and ass still had more of their original shape. Her purple dyed hair looked a bit silly alongside the wrinkles, but it was sexier than grey.
Maeve had fared less well, without her flaming hair, her face looked very ordinary even if it was less lined than Ellie's. Her plunging neckline revealed two obviously saggy boobs unsupported by any bra and destined to pop out at any second, and her exposed previously flat tummy had a little pooch and obvious softness. Her pale Irish skin looked blotchy and blemished all over. But she'd gained a lot less weight than Ellie, and still had a bit of definition at her waist.
The other girls were all a similar story – all older and obviously less attractive, but none seemed as totally ruined as Ellie felt. Her hair, face, and body were a shambles. She'd gone from the sexiest woman in the room to the least attractive in a matter of seconds.
On top of this - the lads looked to have largely faired much better. Less muscle mass for sure, and a few of them had gone bald. But mostly, the salt and pepper look actually suited most of them. The aging process really was a sexist bastard.
The mirror before them clicked and opened up into a large double door. The old man in the top hat – although now Ellie realised, he was a similar age to them now – held up his hand for silence.
“You have been given an opportunity, my young friends, an opportunity to live one evening in 2045. Your bodies have been transformed accordingly. Those of you who did not dress appropriately for your age...” His gaze lingered in Ellie, who burned with embarrassment that nearly all of her mid-forties form was on display, “...I can only apologise, we did try to warn you. Upstairs, you will find a bar, a dance floor, several lounges, and a rooftop terrace. Those of you in this room shall be out only guests this evening. Go, enjoy yourselves, experience a glimpse into the future. At 3am, return to this room, and your youth will be restored. Enjoy your evening.” He doffed his hat and gestured them forward.
The crowd excitedly surged towards the door.
“Wait! Wait!” cried Ellie, quickly positioning herself in the doorway and blocking the group’s progress. “You can't be serious? We're not staying here, look what you've done to us! Change us back right now!” There was some giggling in the crowd of middle-aged faces looking back at her.
To her surprise, Rick came forward and put his hand on her shoulder. “Relax El, this is just a bit of fun. We're staying.” And he pushed past her. The others surged past as well, as she muttered and sputtered after them until it was just her and the gent in the top hat. He eyed her impassively. She pointed a finger accusingly “Not another word.And Ellie stormed off after the others.
She jogged towards the stairs, but this action came with terrible new surprises. Her body was heavier, stiffer, full of twinges alien to the 19-year-old. Her previously limber body felt like a rusty suit of armour. She tried to take the stairs two at a time like she normally did, but her knees ached in protest, and she had to stop and use the handrail. By the time she reached the top, she was horrified to realise she was out of breath.
Ellie's body didn’t just look older, it was mechanically older as well. Weaker and creakier than it should be. Like all teenagers she'd taken the utility and freedom of movement that came with youth for granted, and now here she was - breathless after 1 flight of stairs. It was horrible. Why were the others ok with this?
But she had a feeling she knew the answer. She'd been queen bee. All the girls envied her, and all the boys wanted to see her naked. But now, time had stirred the pot, she’d fallen down the social ladder, and that meant others could rise. For one evening, the others were willing to deal with some grey hair if they could explore a new world order.
She caught up with the others, and the boys went up to a lavish, bar – a mix of hard wood and bright lights that looked both classic and modern – and most of the girls rushed to the bathroom to further assess the damage and make whatever adjustments they could. Ellie had no choice but to follow the girls, she had to try and salvage her visage before Rick saw her again.
Inside, the women's bathroom was a cacophony of shrieks and gasps as the bright lights revealed more horrors. It was strange to hear a chorus of “OMG!”s from older women – the hum of teenage vocab was an octave lower than normal.
The girls crowded around the mirrors, emergency make up in hand, as they tried to repair the damage.
“Jesus look at the bags under my eyes!” exclaimed a girl called Nina, who'd been quite pretty half an hour ago, but now looked like she was carrying two weeks shopping under her eye lids.
Ellie popped open her concealer, but one more look at her haggard face told her she was out of her depth. Her skin looked like tin foil that has been crumpled into a ball and then ineffectively flattened. It would never be smooth again no matter what make up she smeared over the gaps. Her eyes were a bit hooded now, making them look smaller and much less striking in a way no eye liner could fix. Her jawline, once sleek and defined, was softer and indistinct from her neck. All in all, it looked like parts of her face were collapsing, and Ellie hated it.
There was no cream or powder in her purse that could change this stranger back into the pretty face she knew.
The other girls were realising the same – their normal tricks and techniques were to highlight natural charms. With those charms faded or gone entirely, none of them had the first idea of how to hide the damage.
“At least our boobs are bigger?” Ellie opined, hoping to find a silver lining. The girls all hefted their new chests and mumbled vague agreement. Nearly all of them looked bustier than their teenage selves, but size wasn’t everything, with several chests in the group sagging severely (Those girls who'd gone braless tonight were seriously regretting it).
Ellie's own strapless bra was struggling under her tube top, with her once perky orbs having some obvious new issues with gravity. A heft and a squeeze suggested that they'd lost a lot of their firmness – a realisation many of the girls were making simultaneously.
“Eww, they're so saggy!” Maeve exclaimed, readjusting her pale breasts through the scandalous opening in her green dress. “Like bags of sand. I just can't even.” The former redhead looked like she might cry.
Some of the other girls, those who'd had A or B cups, seemed pretty pleased with the changes, with a bit of sag proving an acceptable price to pay for no longer being flat chested, even if it had also come at the cost of flat tummies.
“2032,” muttered Nina, “that was the sweet spot when my boobs were bigger but still perky, and my tummy was still flat. It was all down hill after that.” She lifted her new boobs under her t-shirt and lot them flop back down onto Her protruding belly. “Sigh. Why couldn't it have been a 2032 themed party and we could all have been thirty flirty and thriving? Not forty, porky and tired?”
There was a general murmur if agreement, confirming that things had really started to go to hell for their bodies in their thirties.
“For fucks sake, look at our arms! It's like bingo wing city in here.” All the girls lifted their arms, and collectively groaned as they pinched the loose skin that had appeared. Flabby upper arms seemed to a universal problem, except for Mary-Anne, who to her obvious smug satisfaction still had relatively toned triceps.
You could see the penny dropping that Mary-Anne had faired best out of the whole group, her slender body mostly closely resembling it's true 19 year old form.
“I'm so fat now,” Marry-Anne said, pinching the tiniest of pooches on her once concave stomach. She knew all too well that she was the slimmest girl in the bathroom, and was just drawing attention to the fact. Ellie didn’t take the bait, but the others did.
“Are you kidding? You're still so skinny! Look at me!” Sarah, one of the girls Ellie knew less well lifted her t-shirt to reveal a doughy, rolled stomach. Some girls laughed, but it was mostly nervous giggles as they self consciously put their hands on their own thickened middles.
Ellie decided this was the way to go though, own it, and try and laugh away her disgust at her body.
“I'm such a pear now.” She announced, running her now substantial hips. The disappearance of her waist and the hefty weight gain around her thighs and abdomen had nuked her hourglass figure. Not helped at all by the lower resting place of her breasts. “I've got hip dips and saddle bags and everything, just like my mom.”
“Such a shame, you had such a nice little figure. Guess it just wasn’t built to last.” Marry-Anne said cattily to Ellies shock. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment once more. “It'll be nice for Rick to see what we'll all look like in the future, before he makes any...rash... decisions about who to settle down with, don't you think? Save him the buyers remorse when your pert little ass collapses.”
“Fuck you! Skinny bitch!” she'd meant to say skanky, but to her horror her jealously prompted a Freudian slip.
“Ha! No thanks, I have different plans for who I'll be fucking tonight. And you might want to undo that button on your hotpants before it pops off.” And with that Marry-anne sauntered out of the bathroom, irritatingly small cling-filmed bottom wiggling as she went.
Ellie burned with anger. She'd never been mocked like this before, never been so jealous of another woman. Normally she'd have risen to the challenge, but how could she while she was stuck in this soccer mom body? Defeatedly, she unpopped the button of her shorts, allowing the bulge of her muffin top to breathe.
The ache of her lost beauty was worse than the ache in her swollen knees.
She had no choice but to fight on. Make the most of the situation, and endure this evening stuck as a pudgy housewife-type. She put her ineffectual make up away. Adjusted her strained shorts and tube top as best as she could, and marched out to the bar. Adapting to her new (lower) centre of balance in her strappy high heels was easier said than done, but she tried to use her newly substantial hips to get a sensual sway going. “This would look better if I still had a waist...” She muttered bitterly as she swooshed into the bar area.
To her dismay, none of the “boys” gave her a second look as she slinked through the room. Normally heads turned whenever she went, especially with her figure on display like this. Just a painful early example of her lost sex appeal. She burned with indignance. These “men" were all the same age as her, and would have killed to buy her a drink any other night of the year. But now she was invisible, except from a couple of poorly concealed sniggers at her newly flabby parts. The worst part? She couldn’t blame them – she didn’t want to look at her tragically aged body either.
Mary-Anne was sidled up next to Rick at the bar. Ellie burned with jealously again. She couldn't just stand there and let this skank take her man. She pulled up a stool on the other side of Rick and made a show of slipping as she took a seat, falling into Rick and rubbing herself against him – a classic move she often deployed on hot guys at bars.
Unfortunately, she misjudged the weight of her new, clunky body, lost her balance for real and clumsily crashed into him, spilling his drink and almost falling off her stool entirely.
She tried to roll with it and forced a giggle, running her middle-aged hand down his chest, just like she’s done two weeks when they'd spent a whole evening making out. Unfortunately, this time she was 25 years older, 40 lb’ heavier, and had just spilt his beer. Worse still, his hand had instinctively grabbed her at Ellies waist to hold her, or at least the flabby rolls that filled the void where her slender waist had once lived. As his fingers pressed into the yielding, doughy flesh, Ellie's face couldn’t hide her mortification, and Rick’s face couldn't hide his mild revulsion.
Perhaps Ellie should have thought twice before rubbing up against him like this. Her brand of flouncy flirting was a young woman game.
“Oh hey, Ellie.” Rick said, awkwardly.
“Hey hun.” She said, as sexily as she could manage, with her lower voice cracking a bit. “Crazy night huh? At least you still look gorgeous.”
Plan B – if she couldn't seduce him with her looks, she’d flatter his ego. Not that it took much effort here, he really had aged well, looking classically distinguished.
He smiled at that. “Thanks,” he notably didn’t return the compliment on Ellie's looks, wounding her already dying self esteem even further. “Can I get you a drin...”
Just as Ellie seemed to have an in, Mary-Anne interrupted “No need Ricky, I've got our drinks already.” The platinum blonde cougar put a beer in his hand and a hand on his thigh. “There's a booth over there, let's go grab a seat.” Marry-Anne led him away, and he put up no resistance.
Ellie was left at the bar, speechless.
“Well that was tragic.” A voice to her left opined. It was Eric, a guy she shared some classes with who was one of Ricks friends, but Ellie didn't know him particularly well.
Rude!” Ellie rebuked.
“Fair. Let me buy you that drink by way of apology?”
Ellie gave him the once over. He'd gained a few pounds in his middle age, and his hair had dramatically receded. But his face has held up relatively well, he had a had a strong jawline and a nice salt and pepper stubble situation going on. Plus, looking like she did, she could hardly be as picky with her suitors as normal.
“Fine. G&T. That feels age appropriate.”
He ordered, and she knocked half of it back immediately, to Eric's amusement.
“Don't judge me. I'm twice the size I used to be, my liver can take it.”
“I'm not sure that's how it works. I've always heard hangovers get worse once you turn 30.” Eric cautioned, but he swigged his beer at a similar pace.
“Great, there goes my plan to drink my way through tonight.”
“Not enjoying this little magic trick then?”
“Why would I be? Why are any of you?” She gesticulated to the room of merry middle-aged people dressed absurdly as futuristic teenagers. Most of them were giggling and examining each other’s flabbier forms with good natured curiosity and playful banter. “This isn't fun. We're supposed to be enjoying a night out in the flower of our youth, the best we'll ever look, and instead, I look like a bloody potato.” She grabbed her stomach rolls in revulsion.
“You don't look like a potato. You look good for your age!”
“How would you know? Do you have any friends in their 40s?”
“Well, no. Not really.”
“Well, you have me now I guess”
“And you me,” Eric said, grabbing his own belly and giving it a wobble. “Middle-aged spread buddies?”
“Urgh, fine. I'll let you buy me another drink if you never say ‘middle aged spread' again".
Eric ordered another round in.
Ellie squirmed in the bar stool. “Can we go grab a sofa? My back is killing me up here.”
Eric nodded, and Ellie hopped down. Her lower back was incredibly stiff, a sensation her 19-year-old soul was completely unused to. She arched her back and stretched her arms above her head, but it didn’t help in the slightest. Dejected she walked over and flopped down in a sofa, Eric right behind her.
Ellie put her feet up on the coffee table, giving her the clearest view yet of her new pins. “Fuck me.” She hardly recognised her legs, pale, blemished and chunky as they now were. She rubbed at some prominent veins that marred her once sumptuous thighs like ivy on a castle wall. “See what I mean?” She pointed at the offending appendages, her faded youth plain to see. “I just hate feeling like this. Trapped in this awful body, when everyone else has aged so much better than me.”
“You know, you'll be young and hot again tomorrow, right?”
“Yea, but in 25 years I'll be old and fat again. Sat somewhere feeling ugly and disgusting while my husband,” she gesticulated to Rick, “is off flirting with better preserved women. I mean, I knew I'd get old one day, but I thought I'd still look like me. Still be kinda hot, you know? Now, I know I won't, and it's a bit depressing.”
Eric looked her in the eye, clearly concerned by Ellie's crisis.
“I bet if I wrapped you up in cling film, you'd be pretty well preserved too. It works for salad, and it's kinda worked for Mary-Anne.”
Ellie ugly laughed at that. “Is that a genuine suggestion? I'll try anything to look a bit slimmer”
“It's a promise.”
Ellie noticed Eric's finger brush her exposed thigh, and a little shiver went through her body. Surely he wasn’t interested in her? Not while she looked like this. But perhaps more than ever in her life, Ellie really wanted someone to be attracted to her. She leaned her thigh softly into his hand.
“I think you're being a bit harsh on yourself. You're just unlucky that you've got more flesh on show that the other girls, that's all. If you look a bit closer, nobody here belongs in a Victoria Secret catalogue right now.”
“Alright, I'll humour you, make me feel like I'm not the ugliest woman here.” She looked suggestively into Eric's eyes , he really was still kinda handsome. Eric looked back into her still vibrant Brown eyes, and then started pointing out flaws in the other formerly young women.
“So, Maeve has got fat ankles now.” He pointed out the former redheads swollen joints. “That's not a good look on her.”
“Oh shit, yea. Cankles.” Maeve had been such a striking beauty, but without her red hair and slender legs she really did look old. “I still think her legs look better than mine though.”
Eric continued. “So Marry-Anne looks comparatively slim, I'll give you that. But she's lost all her shapes. Her ass is flat. Her knees are bony. The only curve she's got left is that little tummy pooch she's desperately sucking in. Plus, her posture's gone to shit, looked at those hunched shoulders? With all the wrinkles on top, she looks like a mummy.”
“Jesus, you're so bitchy Eric. Who knew you had it in you?” Ellie half heartedly protested, but this was making her feel better.
“I'm sorry, just trying to help."
She snuggled up to him. “I didn't say stop...”
Eric grinned. “Talie’s gained all her weight on her top half, her gut and her arms, but her legs are kinda skinnier.”
Ellie pulled away slightly. “Hey, that's not helping me and these tree trunks feel better about ourselves.” She crossed her legs, feeling her very squishy thighs mulge against each other distressingly.
“No, you don’t want to be top heavy like that. Pears are much sexier than apples.” He said, matter of factly.
Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling me pear shaped?”
“I'm calling you sexy.” he replied without missing a beat.
“Hhmpf. I'll allow it.”
“Plus her boobs have totally lost their shape, unlike yours.”
“Pfft, you have no idea what shape my boobs are anymore. Hell, I have no idea what shape my boobs are anymore.”
He leaned in close to her ear. “I'd like to find out.”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
“So what is this? Do you have, like, a thing for older women? MILFs or whatever?”
“No, not really. I just have a thing for you. Always have, and contrary to your low self esteem, you've not lost it.”
Ellie's middle-aged face blushed. She was used to being hit on, normally she couldn't blame the boys for throwing themselves at her tight little body, but Eric's unexpected affection for her in her matronly form caught her off guard. Despite herself, she was charmed.
“So let’s find find out.” she said in a low purr.
“Find out what?”
“What my boobs look like.” She took his hand, and covertly moved it to her left breast, guided his fingers to suggestively trace the curve of her gravity afflicted chest, all with her chestnut brown eyes locked on his.
Eric swallowed. “Upstairs? Top hat said there was a rooftop terrace. Might find some privacy?” Ellie nodded.
She heaved herself off the sofa, grunting involuntarily, her newly decrepit knees and back struggling to lift her new bulk. After briefly feeling sexy again, she immediately crashed back to earth when she crashed back to the sofa. “Fucking hell.” She muttered. “I'm supposed to be 45, not 80.”
Eric had faired slightly better in he'd made it to his feet, but not without a grunt or two himself. “You're just not used to your new body yet. Want a hand?” he pulled her up, heaving as he did so.
“Hey, less of the heaving. I'm chubby, not a wardrobe you're shifting up some stairs.” Ellie bristled.
“Sorry, I'm not as young as I used to be.”
“There's a lot of that going around.”
Eric and Ellie walked back through the bar together, Ellie feeling a buzz of excitement about this unexpected fling that was on the cards.
Her buzz was cut short by Talie however, who tapped her on the shoulder, and then quickly took a photo of Ellie's behind as she glanced over her shoulder.
“Perfect! Sorry Ellie darling, just needed to capture your posterior for posterity.” Talie cackled, showing her yellowing teeth. “Next time the boys are droning on about how fit you are, I'll flash them this photo and they'll remember you're mortal after all.”
Talie turned her phone around to show Ellie and Eric and incredibly unflattering photo or Ellie, twisting around and displaying back-fat, grey hair, and cellulite from her ass to her knees.
Ellie gagged. “Jesus, I'm a wreck...”
Calm as you like, Eric reached out and plucked the phone from Talie, and deposited it into a full pint glass on the bar. The screen sizzled and then went blank.
“Hey what the fuck!” Talie started to rescue her phone and Eric quickly led a giggling Ellie away.
“My hero!” she punched him in the arm. “You didn't have to do that.”
Eric shrugged. “That was a bitch move, couldn't just let her get away with it.”
As they scurried into the corridor, Ellie stopped him and pushed him gently against the corner wall.
“You know, if you'd let her keep that fugly photo of me, let the other boys have a permanent reminder that I age like milk, you might have had more of a chance getting into my pants when I'm young and hot again tomorrow. Less competition.” She pushed her milfy body up against his, lips ever closer to his.
“I'd rather get into your pants tonight.” he kissed her. Even though Ellie had him pinned up against the wall, she was surprised. He really was into her, 45-year-old body or not.
Kissing felt strange, with her confidence dented, and her once-plump lips a bit thinner, but it sent a shiver down her spine none the less.
“Upstairs?” she gasped, her new voice pleasingly deep and womanly.
“Upstairs.” He hurriedly agreed.
Ellie's heart was pounding. The eager hormones of youth stuck inside the creaking body of an aging housewife.
Ellie was going to lead him up the stairs, but hesitated at the last second, not wanting him to get a prolonged look at the collapsed remnants of her ass. Instead, she guided him to take the lead.
They scurried eagerly up the steps, but Ellie's knees and back quickly reminded her that stairs were a young woman’s game. At the top, she was once again flushed and winded, but tried not to let on. Eric might seem interested right now, but admitting how out of shape she was right before fooling around was too unsexy to risk.
Eric spotted a janitor’s closet, unlocked, and he pushed the door open and led Ellie inside. It was spacious, or spacious enough, and mood lit by a shade less bulb hanging from a cord.
Ellie flung herself at Eric, clattering broom out of the way to force him against the wall, lips locked with his. He grabbed her thigh and lifted it up against him, Ellie wincing as her knee popped at the gesture. Why did her body insist on constantly reminding her how old and worn out she was?
Eric's hands roamed around her mature figure, hungrily grabbing both the remnants of Ellie's teenage curves and the unwelcome new curves of middle age. He clawed at her skin tight tube top, and together they worked the overtaxed garment over her shoulders and cast it aside.
Ellie's chest was now clad only in an undersized, undersupported lacy blue strapless bra. She stepped away from Eric and moved her hands to the clasp.
“You sure you're ready to set these old ladies free?” Ellie said, trying to be nonchalant and flirty to hide her nerves at revealing the true state of her aged breasts.
“Absolutely.” Answered Eric, looking like he'd just won the lottery.
“Ok, we’ll, remember you asked for this.” She unclipped the bra’s clasp and cast it aside as her boobs flopped out. “Ahhhh!” Ellie gasped as her girls sagged free, drooping and spreading down her chest like two scoops of melting ice cream. “No. No no no no no!” The round, firm breasts of youth were gone, and in their place was the carrier-bag heft of a mother-of-three’s boobs. “Fuck me, they're ruined!”
“Hey,” Eric swooped over to her. “They don't look so bad to me.”
“Pfft. That's because you don't know what they’re supposed to look like.”
“Describe them to me.” Eric cupped her breasts. “I've dreamed about seeing you naked for ages, tell me what I'm missing.”
She put her hands over his, and together they moved her breasts up 3-4 inches. “So, for a start, they live up here, in an open affront to gravity.” She moulded their combined fingers to sculpt the heavy teardrops into rounded grapefruits. “Rounder, firmer, obvs. They used to feel like full water balloons, not like these socks full of oatmeal.” She squished her boobs together to form a hoisted cleavage. “No stretch marks, no veins, and my cleavage is definitely not wrinkly.” She concluded, despite visual evidence to the contrary. “You don't know what you're missing.”
“I do now.” He said, wistfully. “What about this?” he cupped her ample ass.
Ellie struggled out of her skin-tight hotpants and tiny frilly underwear with great effort. Hips, ass and thighs bulging at every motion. Eventually triumphant, she held her lingerie up. “Well for a start, these slip off *much* more easily.”
“I bet.” Eric's fingers probed the yielding flesh of Ellie's bare buns.
Ellie lifted his hands up and tried to mould her flabby behind into the shape of its former glory. “My ass is – was – smaller, higher, and curved like this. More compact and tight. A little jiggle to her, like jelly, but no sag. I squat. My ass does NOT sag.” She pulled him closer, her now totally nude body up against him. “And I’ve got no cellulite. Not a single divot.”
“Every girl has a bit of cellulite Ellie, don't exaggerate.”
“Not me. My housemates spent and evening pinching my ass to try and find some and make them feel better. They failed.”
“That's a hot image.” Eric was practically drooling as this faded beauty waxed lyrical about her former glory.
“Not that you'd believe it now.” She squished the cold, shapeless wet-bread of her middle-aged backside. “All those squats for nothing. I'm just another fat ass, washed up cougar.”
“I still think you look great for your age.” Eric leaned it for a kiss.
“Stop lying to me.”
“I'm just trying to make you feel better.”
“I don't want to feel better, I want to feel sexy.” Ellie pushed him. “Fuck me like I'm young and beautiful.”
Eric didn't need telling twice. He grabbed Ellie and picked her up, the 45 year old brunette wrapping her chubbier legs around his waist. He immediately regretted it however, as his back went out. Suppressing a grimace, he lowered her to the bloom closet floor.
Ellie arched her neck as Eric passionately kissed all the way down her body. He slid back, eased her legs apart and started planting slow, deliberate kisses up her inner thighs, higher and higher with each kiss.
Ellie moaned, intoxicated by the attention she never thought her mature form would get from a man. Her enjoyment spoiled when she looked down to see the dimples, veins and stretchmarks besmirching her thighs even as her would-be lover kissed them. She still couldn't believe these pale drumsticks were her legs.
She pulled at Eric's clothes to distract herself from her body woes. Unbuttoning his shirt, unhooking his strained belt buckle. Ellie was no virgin, she'd undressed her fair share of men, but she'd never been with a man so old before. She wasn't used to a beer belly in pace of abs. But she was in no place to throw stones.
Her hand reached for his groin, felt his growing manhood as she rubbed the outside of his boxers, and she bit her lip. “I can't believe you want me, like this.”
“You're gorgeous, but I'll confess relieved everything down there still works.”
She flipped him over and straddled Eric, easing him inside her. She gyrated back and forth, finding her rhythm eventually, once she got used to the extra weight of her body sloshing about. Eric greedily fondled her hanging breasts, as ecstasy rocked through them both.
Ellie had almost forgotten about her predicament, lost in the moment, before she found herself slowing down, her older, heavier body growing tired at the teenage pace she'd tried to maintain. “Fuck.” She thought, red faced and out of breath. “My stamina has gone to shit!” Ellie couldn't believe it, they'd barely started, and she was knackered! This body was a joke.
Luckily, Eric wasn't deterred and eased himself back ontop. He grabbed each of her ankles, pulled her legs spread eagle, and thrust deep inside her. Ellie gasped, trying to ignore the sweat on her brow and the folds of her doughy, contorted stomach.
Again, Ellie closed her eyes and was lost in sensation, of unexpected spontaneous passion. Only to be yanked out of her trance as her right leg cramped up. “Ah, ah, shit shit shit!” she retracted her legs, and tried to style it out by placing her feet on Eric's chest, her body folded double. But again, after only a few thrusts, her body protested, her lower back this time howling its objections.
Frustrated, she dropped her legs and pulled Eric down into missionary, her heaving bust pressed against his hairy chest, and whispered “Ok, change of plan, just this one time, fuck me like I'm a housewife who's not as flexible as she used to be...”
“Oh thank God, I thought you were going to give me a heart attack.” They chuckled, both frustrated and embarrassed at the limitations of their new bodies. But being both in the same boat, they gently caressed each other, expressing their youthful lust the best they could in their aged state, quickly climaxing in each other’s embrace.
“Wow. Well that was something.” Eric rolled himself off Elie, big smile across his distinguished face. “I've been fantasizing about that for months.” He ran his hands through her greying hair.
“I doubt this,” she grabbed a roll of her chubby new stomach, “was precisely what you were fantasizing about?”
“Well, perhaps not, but I've got no complaints.”
“I do.” The smile on her lover’s face dimmed. “Not about you! You were great.” She kissed him. “But about this, she gesticulated to her middle-aged form. “Don't you think it's weird? That we're all going to age. Get old and fat and saggy just like our parents? It's kinda sad.”
The euphoria of sex had faded for Ellie, and the reality of her present, and what it meant for her future, was weighing on her again. “I mean, my boobs are in my armpits for Christ's sake. I hate looking like this.”
“You'll be young again soon!”
“Yea, but this is my future.” She lifted a boob up and let it flop back down. “Saggy boobs, stiff knees and a fat ass. That's all I've got to look forward to.”
Eric picked his phone out from the pile of discarded clothes. “Let me take a photo of you.”
“What?! No way!” Ellie pulled her hands up to her deflated cleavage, trying to preserve her modesty. “I don't want a permanent reminder of my flab and wrinkles thanks very much! When this is all over, I want to forget this ever happened.”
“But I don't think you will forget about it. I think you'll dwell on it, build your 40 year old body up to be far worse than it really is in your head. Let me take a photo, wrinkles and all, and you'll have a memento to prove to you that, a) you're going to turn into a beautiful nature woman in time, and b) you still got laid!”
More creases formed on Ellie's unconvinced forehead. “Humm, I suppose having a reminder if how fat I'm going to be will give me some perspective to make me appreciate my youth when I'm slim again. Fine, but you better make it a good photo, or I'm deleting it.”
Ellie got up off the floor, with wayyy more effort than she was expecting. Her core strength was shot to shit under her new chubby middles. How did old people get used to feeling so weak? She couldn't stand it.
She stood, incredibly self conscious at her totally naked body, pendulous boobs akimbo. “Well come on then? Take the picture before I get any older.”
“Oh come on? You've got to pose!”
“I'm not posing in this husk, it's embarrassing.”
“You'd never take a nude just standing rigid like a soldier at 19, would you? Work it, give me some angles!”
“When I was 19, I had assets worth showing off. Now, not so much.” She wobbled a dangly boob about to underline her point.
“When you were 19, you didn’t need to pose to look hot, but you did it anyway. Those poses will make more of a difference now that your...”
“....old and saggy?”
“Mature. Let's go with mature. Just, humour me, ok? Pose like you're still 19 and you're showing off your perfect teenage body.”
“Urgh, fine.” Ellie ached her back, lifting her droopy bosom up and sucking her soft belly in a bit. She, extended a leg out, twisted a bulky hip, tossed her greying hair and pouted with her creased lips. She thought about covering her breasts modestly with her hands, but decided to go all in threw her hands behind her head. In for a penny.
Eric's camera phone flashed.
“Gorgeous.” Eric said softly, without a hint of irony.
Ellie's reluctance faded a bit at that, as she threw a few extra poses, to the delight of her photographer. Before long, she was giggling wildly, enjoying the ridiculous nature of trying to make the lumpy body look sexy.
As Eric showed Ellie the photos on his phone, at first Ellie just saw a wrinkled old woman with a massive flabby arse. Gross, how could this be her body? How could Eric pretend to find this lump attractive? But as they scrolled through, a middle-aged stranger relaxed into the photo shoot, Ellie saw signs of life. She was rocking her body, working with what she'd got, and the smile on her face made her look like herself again, despite the wrinkles. Plus her massive knockers still looked pretty sensual from the right angles.
She may not have been a fresh faced, lithe, pert little thing anymore, but this mature version of herself still had some life and sexuality left in her.
She kissed Eric on the cheek. “Thanks for making me see there'll be life after 40. Now come on, let's find my pants and get back to the party.”
Ellie retrieved her tiny black underwear from underneath some shelves, and squeezed back into them with great effort. The yielding flesh of her hips and heft of her arse were barely contained by the teenage garment, but the elastic earned it's keep.
Getting her boobs back into her lacy bra was also a trial. Even loosening the strap to the maximum, it cut into her back fat uncomfortably. “It's much easier to do this when your boobs sit where they belong and don't need to be hoisted up first. I don’t have enough hands for this...” She puffed as she finally sealed the clasp and contained her girls. “Now, for the hotpants.”
Ellie eyed the novelty silver shorts with concern. They looked impossibly tiny and lacked the stretch of her pants. “How did I ever get these on in the first place?”. The answer of course was she'd been 26 years younger when she'd gotten dressed up for this party. It felt like a lifetime ago, like something that had happened to another woman. “Well, here goes nothing.”
Ellie wrestled the shorts up her thighs, new flab bulging as she went. Her thighs crumpled into ripples of cellulite as she wiggled and heaved, the yielding flesh folding under pressure. She tried desperately not to think about Eric watching her in this graceless manoeuvre. Laboriously she made progress, until the hotpants reached her enormous, ruined backside, and it shuddered to a halt.
“Come on, come on...” She jumped and wiggled to no avail. Her new ass just wouldn't get back in its box. She stood there, trapped with her slinky shorts halfway up her arse, trapped in the sandwich of her muffin top and saddle-bag thighs. “Shit.”
Eric looked on speechless.
“Don't laugh, and don't you dare take another picture.” Ellie's cheeks burned. Could this night, this worn-out old body be any more embarrassing? She heaved the inadequate shorts off and cast them aside in a huff. “What am I going to do now? I can't go out there like this – a 45-year-old in a teenagers lingerie! It's obscene.”
Eric took off his plaid shirt. “Try this? It might be long enough to act as dress?”
Sure enough, his shirt was just about big enough to cover the crucial areas. Although her saggy arse still peeked out just a bit. It would have to do, and unlike her shiny crop top/shorts, it covered her squishy midriff.
“My hero. Defending my modestly with the shirt off your back.” Ellie hooked her arm through his as they headed back towards the party.
“For what it's worth, I thought the lingerie was still a good look on you.”
“You're such a weirdo.” Ellie hugged his arm closer.
Back in the bar, the dishevelled appearance of the “young" couple. Their grey hair tousled, their cheeks flushed, and Ellie in Eric's shirt – caused a stir.
“Gross, no way!”
“She pulled, even looking like that?”
“I guess she does have a certain MILFie charm...”
Ellie heard all their sniggers. At least there was nothing wrong with her hearing...
Eric got them drinks as Ellie looked around. The excitement caused by the novelty of middle age seemed to have faded a bit, as a lot more of her peers were sat down now, looking tired and weary in their dumpy forms. It was already 2am, and while normally the teenagers would have hardly started their big night out, clubbing was a young person’s game.
Maeve, the former redhead who should have worn a bra, as sat near Ellie looking shattered. She was massaging her gnarled looking foot, frown etched over her lined face.
“My feet are killing me.” She opined to Ellie. “Too many years wearing high heels I guess...”. She dug her thumbs into her calloused and cracked heel.
“It's my back for me.” Ellie replied. “As soon as I'm young again, I'm going to hire a posture coach.” The glow of sex fading away, the ache in Ellie's back had returned with a vengeance. Seizing up after her raunchy cardio.
“Good idea!” said Maeve. “And I'm chucking out all my stilettos. Comfortable flats from now on!” They chuckled. But both women knew that, more than likely, they'd stick with their bad habits until it was too late.
“So, how was it with Eric?” Maeve asked presumptuously.
Ellie’s cheeks flushed. “A lady never tells.”
“I can't imagine having sex looking like, you know, this.” She gesticulated to her aged body. “I normally do quite well with older guys, you know, Dad-bod types. Can't imagine they'll be so interested with me like this, they're normally cheating on wives who look like this.” She sighed. “I guess when I'm this age for real, I'll be the one they're cheating on with some slinky 19-year-old.” Maeve wrestled with a newfound sympathy for the women who's husbands she'd been shagging. “You're lucky you've found someone who'll fancy you when your tits are saggy.”
Ellie looked over at Eric, salt and pepper hair and pot belly and all. “You know what Maeve, you're right. I am pretty lucky.” She got up and went over to him.
“Forget the drinks, let's dance.” She purred.
“I wasn't much of a dancer at 19, never mind now.” Eric looked worried.
“Come on, we've only got an hour left. You were right, let's enjoy this.” She led him by the hand to the largely abandoned dance floor.
She pushed her body up against him, her belly making contact with him earlier than she expected. She still wasn't used to her new more generous dimensions. She moved his hands to her ample hips and swayed him to the music.
“I wonder what the music will sound like it 2045?” Eric pondered.
“I bet we'll hate it.” Said Ellie. “We’ll complain about the volume, and say music was ‘better in our day’.”
“Oh yes, 2020 was the golden age of music. They really made stuff you could grind to back in those days.”
Ellie took that as a hint and pushed her hips up against him. “Absolutely...not at all like this modern music.” Ellie leaned into the role play.
“And the price of drinks! You used to get a pint for a fiver when I was a lad. These days, you wouldn't get a packet if peanuts.”
Ellie laughed, twisted and pushed her ample arse into Eric's crotch. A regular killer move of her’s when she had a bum sculpted from marble. Perhaps a smidge less arousing now it was a burlap sack full of rice pudding. “I'm going to rock your world when I’m hot again, you know that right?”
Eric clutched her love handles and pulled her closer. “You're rocking it right now.”
“Ha. I've still got moves for an old girl.” Ellie did a slutdrop to underline her point... “oh fuck!”. Her 45-year-old back gave out with a painful snap and she nearly fell flat on her arse. “Help.” Eric caught her arm, and she shuffled off the dance floor sheepishly.
“Are you ok?” Eric asked, full of concern.
“Not really. That really hurt. Just put my back out...” her lower back was throbbing, and she couldn't straighten it. “Guess I'm officially too old to drop it like it's hot...”
Eric lowered her to a sofa and went to get her some ice from the bar.
“Well well,” Mary-Anne sauntered past and sat on the edge of the sofa, crossing her enviably still slender legs. Ellie had had legs like that, in her youth, the thought wistfully. No longer. “Feeling your age a bit Ellie? Is that body as decrepit as it looks?”
“You shouldn't squint like that Mary. It'll give you wrinkles.” The tall blonde frowned; she hadn't realised she was squinting. “Is your eyesight ok? Probably need glasses before those frown lines get deeper.” Ellie clearly struck a nerve, Mary-Anne’s 20-20 vision had deteriorated and most of the room was a blur.
“Snigger all you want, but lasik is cheaper than lipo. Richard won't want anything to do with you, now he knows you're just a soccer mom waiting to happen.”
“Richard? You're welcome to him.” Ellie looked over at Eric with a smile. “But word to the wise, when you're actually 45 for real, you'll be competing for his affection with all the younger, lithe women in the world, not just a room full of women your age. And if tonight's taught us anything, it's that Rich will go where the grass is greener.” Ellie smiled vindictively. “I hope you're very happy together.”
Flustered, Mary-Anne stormed off. Ellie was delighted to spot a couple of budding spider veins on the back of her rival’s legs as she went. Not such perfect pins after all.
After nursing Ellie's injured back with some ice and a couple of tequilas, it was finally 3am, and the group of prematurely middle aged men and women started to drift down stairs. Yawning and aching, the novelty of aging having run dry over the evening, the gang were positively dashing to the foyer. Or at least, shuffling along at a respectable pace for folk of their age.
Eric hooked his arm through Ellie's arm as she hobbled down the stairs. Her tweaked back making her move even more gingerly than her peers.
“This has been fun, you know.” She whispered to Eric as she lent on him for support. “Not the saggy boobs, or crows’ feet, or my creaky back. That’s all suckkkkked. But being with you, it’s been fun. Thanks for making an old girl feel young again.” She kissed him. “Now, let’s get my body back.”
Gathered back in the mirrored lobby, the teenagers took a look their weathered reflections for what they all hoped would be a long time.
Maeve stroked her grey, scraggly hair sadly.
Talie hefted her hopelessly droopy bosom, her French maid’s outfit still looking tragic.
Mary-Anna traced the lines and wrinkles on her face, the lack of definition around her chin, the not-so-subtle beginnings of a turkey neck.
And Ellie put her hands on her flabby hips, still amazed at how undefined her once deft figure had become. She was more than ready to be the sexiest women in the room again.
The doorman in his top hat glided back into the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you have enjoyed your evening in 2045. I hope it has shown you a glimpse of your futures.”
“The only thing I’ve glimpsed is Ellie’s cottage cheese ass peeking out under that shirt.” Whispered Marry-Anne, not so quietly. Ellie fumed, but it would all be over soon.
“Please regard the mirror ahead, as we step back towards the present.”
Ellie squeezed Eric’s hand in excitement, staring intently at the “2045” in in the corner of the mirror.
2044
A few of the girls, Ellie included, wooped in delight.
This time, as they all knew what they were looking for, the effects were clear to see and feel.
Almost instantly, the throb in Ellie's back vanished, as her dance injury was erased from history. Then her knees stopped aching so badly, they even looks less swollen as the first hints of shape returned.
2043, 2042,
The greys in Ellie’s brown hair vanished, and the sagging in her cheeks reversed.
2041, 2040,
Strands of Maeve’s hair started turning red, slowly at first and then quickly erupting like a wildfire. She caressed her rejuvenated hair with delight.
The myriad of deep wrinkles on Marry-Anne’s face softened to lines, her neck tightening, and the veins in her hands diminished. Ellie was sad to see the spider veins on her rival’s legs disappear, her thighs racing back towards model-esq perfection.
Talie’s cleavage started its slow rise back up her chest, as he belly trimmed down and her voluptuous figure started to show signs of life once more.
2039, 2038, 2037
The women re-entered their late thirties and the cruel hand of time was reversed.
Ellie felt the tightening of her abs, as the permeating softness of her midriff abated and her waist popped back into existence. She hurriedly undid the buttons of her borrowed shirt to view the results… revealing a still doughy midsection, with rolls and a FUPA she’d have been mortified to possess any other day, but in the land of the 45-year-old gut, the 37-year-old tummy is king. She almost squealed with delight to watch the fat melt away more by the second, her love handles retreating like a melting iceberg.
Her ample sagging rear took this moment to join the revolution, rising up her thighs like the ghost of the Titanic. Apple sauce mush slowly reforming into the sculpted peach of her youth. Cellulite dimples popping out one by one, like dents plungerd out of car hood in the body shop.
2036, 2035, 3034
Everyone in the room was looking more and more like their young selves. Grey hair vanished, skin smoothed, and weight vanished like magic.
Marry-Anne looked practically perfect already, only the bags under her eyes and a few blemishes on her skin gave her away as being the wrong side of thirty.
Maeve’s feet had shed their callouses, her cracked heels looking smooth and youthful again as she slipped her feet back onto her strappy heels.
Talie’s flat ass was reinflating to its pleasingly plump former glory, and her cleavage had lost its crinkles.
2033, 2032, 2031, 2030
Almost back into their twenties, and everyone was comparatively glowing with youth and energy.
Ellie’s breasts rose up in her bra, filling out the cups and releasing the strain on her shoulders. Ellie mentally noted that it was around 30 when gravity would lay claim to the girls, which was a bit earlier than she’d have liked. She surveyed her body to get a snapshot of what it would look like at the big three oh. Not so bad, a few fine lines around her eyes and mouth, but her stomach was still a bit soft, a there was still some pretty blatant cellulite on her thighs and ass. But still, with all these flaws in remission it was hard to feel anything but gorgeous – thirty, flirty and thriving indeed.
2029, 2028, 2027, 2026
The last remnants of her saddlebag thighs melted away, restoring her trim silhouette to its full glory. The slight outline of abs returned to her now flat-again stomach, it’s foray into flab long forgotten. That first, obvious line between her eyes vanished, leaving her face flawless. She was a girl again! A hot, beautiful young woman.
2025, 2024, 2023, 2022, 2021
The teenage glow returned to everyone’s skin, even the slightest suggestion of bags or lines vanished from all their faces.
Ellie threw off Eric’s shirt in elation, and twirled her beautiful new body around for all to see. Tight abs, a tiny waist, full boobs, and of course magnificent perky ass. She was a fully restored sexpot. She caught Richard and Mary-Anne both staring at her sexy body as she twirled and laughed.
Being young felt incredible. She was so light and flexible and bouncy, the dead weight of her middle-years had been weighing on her more than she realised. Her joints felt like butter. She felt strong, and sexy. She looked around the room at her friends and rivals.
Maeve and her volcanic hair looked striking again, with her pale perky boobs restored to the top of her revealing dress.
Talie looked like a sexy French maid, all young curves and silky flesh, rather than a dumpy housekeeper.
And Mary-Anne was back to looking like a french perfume model, tall slim and marble perfect.
All of them were gorgeous again. But none of them was as scorchingly hot as Ellie. The queen bee had been restored to her rightful place.
She grabbed Eric's hand, shocked for a second by how handsome he was. She'd fallen for him as a 45 year old, so seeing him with a full head of hair, more muscle mass, and the hint of a six pack was a huge bonus.
“Come on handsome, you're coming back to my place. Let's see if you can keep up with me in my prime.”
Eric didn't need telling twice, and let his perfect 10 girl in nothing but her slinky lingerie lead him away, her pert and bounteous ass swishing as she went.
Richard looked on wistfully. “Man, I love to watch that girl leave...”. Marry-Anne clipped him round the ear with a huff.
As the party goers noisily dispersed into the street, the doorman looked on beneath the rim of his black top hat. Behind him, the mirrored wall and its clock read 2021 rather than 2020. A year maintained, as payment from guests for the lessons learned tonight. Not one soul among them noticed the clock never finished its countdown. Nobody ever did. The joy of 24 years of youth returned is indistinguishable from 25. After all. What difference could a mere year make to those in the flower of youth?
Although as Ellie walked away, hand in hand with Eric, the discerning doorman couldn't help but notice a single dimple of cellulite on the girl's memorable ass.
Oh well, thought he. Nothing lasts forever.
I've just finished a chunky story I've been writing since the tail end of last year. As per, it's a middle-aged AP romp. Drop a like if you enjoy it. I had a lot of fun with this one. (Posting from my phone, so excuse the formatting. I'll tidy it up later).
Party like it's 2045 - Ark
Ellie adjusted her sparky silver hotpants and sequined tube top – a bizarre flashy and revealing outfit for a brisk early December evening, but the mysterious party flier had suggested they dress futuristic:
**Party like it's 2045
For one night only, experience the not-so-far-flung future. Are you ready go see a reflection of your destiny?
Dress appropriately for the twenty forties.**
Ellie and her loose group of freshman friends loved parties like this – pop up, underground events with a gimmick and a short guest list, normally in some converted warehouse or abandoned residence that had been jazzed up. So, Ellie and 20 or so of her mates scurried down the street, decked out in tin foil and their shiniest fabrics, looking ridiculous, already giddy on pre-drinks.
Of course, the vague futuristic dress code didn't insist upon such revealing outfits, but a group of beautiful young college students needed no excuse.
Besides, Ellie had her eyes on impressing Richard tonight - they'd been flirting for weeks now and she wanted to seal the deal – so Ellie was going to look her best and flaunt her petit, tight body regardless of the theme.
At 5’3, Ellie wasn't as tall as she'd like, but she had no other complaints about her 19-year-old body. Her minuscule waist, perky D-cups, and squat-sculped ass made her very popular with the uni lads. Her big brown eyes, pouty lower lip, and cascading dark hair certainly didn’t hurt either. She maintained a natural bronzed tan, fading slightly as it was in these winter months, which was evident by the acres of smooth flawless skin she had on display – from the hint of abs at her navel, to the peak of her ass creeping out from under her silver hotpants. Any man would be powerless to resist.
Unfortunately, Ellie wasn’t the only hot young thing after playboy Rick who’d dressed extra slutty. Mary-Anne was here, all 5’11 of her tall, limber blonde body on display in nothing but some white silk underwear, thigh high boots, and skin-tight cling film. (Because, yea, in the future everyone will wear cling film. Pffft. She looked like some knock-off Emma Frost...)
Maeve, the Irish redhead with the best hair Ellie has ever seen (she was extremely envious…), was wearing a neon green dress with a huge slit down the middle, from neck to navel, to show of her pale skin and gravity defying freckled cleavage.
And Talie, the curvy “nerd” with her died purple hair and enormous boobs – who’d come in a French maids’ outfit with a bit of tin-foil draped around the edges, displaying creamy cleavage that would draw the eye from 20 feet away.
There were other girls as well in their little rabble, each sexy in their own way, but these three were Ellie’s main competitors for Rick. She knew the tall track star had fooled around with all of them over the last 6 months on one night or another. But Ellie wasn’t worried, she was objectively the hottest of the four, and as she flounced along, brushing against Rick’s arm “accidentally” whenever she could, she could tell her was already under her spell once more.
As they reached the address on the flier, they were met by a tall, middle aged doorman – it wasn’t unusual for a doorman or bouncer at these events, but they were normally some dorky teenager here for the discount drinks, not this distinguished gentleman in his top hat. His demeanour caused the group of half-drunk students to fall suddenly quiet for the welcoming spiel.
“Welcome, young ladies and gentlemen to the party of the future.” He was dressed more like a halloween tour guide than anything futuristic. Ellie hoped this party wasn’t going to be a low budget bust.
“You have come here for a glimpse at the reflection of your future. One night, out of time, out of sequence, where you may peer into the life that awaits you.” He cast an appraising gaze over the sexy youngsters and their stupid, skimpy outfits. “You were asked to dress accordingly. Only time will tell if you have listened.” The top-hatted man opened the door of the large, abandoned looking town house. "Please step into the welcome chamber and regard the mirror ahead.”
The gang noisily rushed into the large, square room – ahead of them was a huge mirror, taking up the whole wall. Ellie couldn’t help but adjust her posture and toss her hair a bit, making herself as picture perfect as possible, and a few of the other girls did the same.
Slam.
The door closed behind them. A few of the lads went “ooooohhh” ironically, but the whole group felt a little shiver go through their bodies. A large digital clock display appeared in the top corner of the mirror – a neat trick, Ellie hadn’t seen it there before. It read “2020”, just the year, nothing more.
Top hat spoke again from behind them. “Look carefully at your visage, as we take a step, through time.”
The clock ticked to 2021, then 2022. The gang murmured quietly, peering at their reflections, looking for some gimmick, expecting a jump scare or something, but for a few moments nothing seemed to be happening. 2023, then 2024 passed before Mary-Anne chimed up - “Hey, I think our reflections are changing.” She leaned in, closely inspecting her pretty face. “I don’t know, something looks different.”
2025, 2026.
Slowly, as the years ticked on, Ellie started to see what Mary-Anne meant. The puppy fat had melted away from a few of the lad’s jawlines (making Rick look even more chiselled than before). 2027, 2028. Tallies soft, teenage face looked a bit more angular than normal, more adult. Was Eric's hairline always that receeded?
Ellie leaned into her own reflection. She looked different but she couldn’t put her finger on why. Her skin had slightly less of a dewy glow, perhaps? She looked a little tired, annoyingly. Almost had bags underneath her eyes. As she stared at her frowning face, a crease suddenly appeared between her eyes and the penny dropped. “Oh my god, we look older!”
2029, 2030.
Gasps of realisation ran through the room, followed by shouts and giggles as the changes accelerated.
Fine lines crept onto the girls faces, the odd early grey hair here and there. Early blemishes that reflected the faces of mature adults back at the teenagers.
“Cool!” shouted Rick. “It must be some kind of live filter in the mirror. Like face app.”
2031, 2032.
As the decades moved on, and the reflections entered their thirties, Ellie looked on in shocked fascination as her face morphed from fresh faced sexpot to a beautiful, if slightly tired looking, mature woman. She noticed belatedly that the filter wasn't just affecting her face. Her figure was also starting to look different in the mirror.
The subtle outline of her abs had faded away, and her stomach was looking softer and less toned by the second. Her thighs also looked wider, and as she watched subtle saddlebags bulged into existence. Ellie's frown deepened – sure, this mirror trick was clever, she'd never seen anything this convincing before, but she didn’t like what she was seeing.
2033, 2034, 2035
As she looked on, she noticed her boobs shifting slightly in her reflection, their shape changing in her shiny tube top… She absentmindedly adjusted her top in the real world.
Ellie suddenly felt a sinking feeling in her chest. But no, the sinking feeling wasn't IN her chest, it WAS her chest.
Her boobs, her real-world boobs, were sagging.
Ellie screamed and clutched her faltering cleavage. “Oh My God! It's not just in the mirror, we're older! We're aging!”
Bedlam descended on the group as they tore their eyes away from the mirror to see their own flesh shift and change. The girls shrieked as they clutched widening hips and softening tummies. The lads cupped nascent beer bellies in bewilderment. Grey hairs appeared in fits and starts, and weight was piling onto nearly all of them.
2036, 2037.
The years marched on, and the group’s metamorphosis grew more drastic.
Ellie cupped her late-thirties ass as it expanded in every direction, peachy firmness quickly giving way to doughy mush. Youth and squats becoming a distant memory. Her stomach had lost all of its remaining definition and bulged over her too-tight shorts more and more by the second. Worst of all, her tiny, cinched waist was expanding rapidly, until boop, it disappeared completely, and her midriff was a blob and her figure vanished.
2038, 2039, 2040
The other girls’ bodies were now looking similarly ravaged as the formerly nubile teenagers crossed the Rubicon into their 40s.
Maeve pawed at her hair as the amazing Red faded to grey, first in strands, then streaks, and then - “No no no!” – it was all gone. And just like that, the striking redhead was completely grey - her best physical asset gone without a trace.
Mary-Anne was staring at her hands as veins grew more prominent and her knuckles grew a little gnarled. Lines and wrinkles had criss-crossed over her pretty face, and her slender neck looked loose in a way that reminded the tall blonde of her mother’s. “Eww, gross" she exclaimed as her formerly fresh face shrivelled like a raisin.
Talie’s boobs were if anything bigger, but her cleavage was noticeably wrinkled, and her chest was sinking lower with each “year". She was adjusting her hopelessly youthful French-maids outfit to deal with her drooping figure. At least her hair was still purple, even if it no longer suited her middle-aged face.
Chaos reigned in the wider group. Girl's shrieked as their curves collapsed, boys panicked as the hair fell out, everywhere you looked, young skin dried out and grew blemished.
2041, 2042, 2043
Grey hairs multiplied in Ellie's dark brown curls until she was mostly salt and pepper, her formerly luxuriant curls went limp, and her style was now hopelessly too young for her wrinkled, sagging face.
2044, 2045
Weight had continued to pile into Ellie’s hips and thighs, and as the clock ticked through it's last two years, her knees swelled and creased, putting the death knell on any shape her legs had left.
Ellie was left staring at the reflection of an overweight, tired middle-aged woman, flaunting far too much of her new podge in tiny hotpants and an inept tube top. “Oh my god oh my god oh my god. I'm old and fat and ugly! What the fuck! No way this is happening. No way.”
She looked around to the gang of barely recognisable old people with her in reception room, all clutching new folds of flesh and touching new wrinkles in horrified fascination. There were a few stunned seconds, and then the group started to look at each other.
“Oh my god,” said Marry-Ann gleefully, “look at Ellie's cellulite!”
Mortified, Ellie looked over her shoulder at her once sumptuous round ass to see it had melted down her thighs like a cheap candle. It's remnants and her now substantial thighs were riddled with the texture of cottage cheese. She screamed, and to her dismay the whole group laughed, including Rick. This was a nightmare; it couldn't be happening.
Ellie missed her opportunity to switch the attention to somebody else, but soon cruel comments were flying left right and centre.
“Eww, what happened to your boobs Talie? Gross, put them away!”
“Aww Maeve your hair! I hardly recognise you; you look like my nan!”
“Haha! Tim's gone bald! Alright slap head!”
“Jesus, Sarah’s ass is huge! OMG her jeans of split, you can see her pants!”
“As if, you're even fatter than me!”
Ellie looked around at her newly middle-aged friends with a horrible thought. Not only was she old, but she'd aged badly in comparison to her peers.
Marry-Anne looked quite severe and wrinkled, but she was still tall and slim, and clearly dyed her hair as it was still flawlessly platinum blonde. The cling film that adorned her body seemed to be hiding any bulges or blemishes, meaning the overall effect was a svelte, glamorous, if slightly older woman.
Talie’s boobs may have been saggier, but they were still quite shapely and eye catching in a way that Ellie's own dropping assets seemed to lack. Plus, Talie’s legs and ass still had more of their original shape. Her purple dyed hair looked a bit silly alongside the wrinkles, but it was sexier than grey.
Maeve had fared less well, without her flaming hair, her face looked very ordinary even if it was less lined than Ellie's. Her plunging neckline revealed two obviously saggy boobs unsupported by any bra and destined to pop out at any second, and her exposed previously flat tummy had a little pooch and obvious softness. Her pale Irish skin looked blotchy and blemished all over. But she'd gained a lot less weight than Ellie, and still had a bit of definition at her waist.
The other girls were all a similar story – all older and obviously less attractive, but none seemed as totally ruined as Ellie felt. Her hair, face, and body were a shambles. She'd gone from the sexiest woman in the room to the least attractive in a matter of seconds.
On top of this - the lads looked to have largely faired much better. Less muscle mass for sure, and a few of them had gone bald. But mostly, the salt and pepper look actually suited most of them. The aging process really was a sexist bastard.
The mirror before them clicked and opened up into a large double door. The old man in the top hat – although now Ellie realised, he was a similar age to them now – held up his hand for silence.
“You have been given an opportunity, my young friends, an opportunity to live one evening in 2045. Your bodies have been transformed accordingly. Those of you who did not dress appropriately for your age...” His gaze lingered in Ellie, who burned with embarrassment that nearly all of her mid-forties form was on display, “...I can only apologise, we did try to warn you. Upstairs, you will find a bar, a dance floor, several lounges, and a rooftop terrace. Those of you in this room shall be out only guests this evening. Go, enjoy yourselves, experience a glimpse into the future. At 3am, return to this room, and your youth will be restored. Enjoy your evening.” He doffed his hat and gestured them forward.
The crowd excitedly surged towards the door.
“Wait! Wait!” cried Ellie, quickly positioning herself in the doorway and blocking the group’s progress. “You can't be serious? We're not staying here, look what you've done to us! Change us back right now!” There was some giggling in the crowd of middle-aged faces looking back at her.
To her surprise, Rick came forward and put his hand on her shoulder. “Relax El, this is just a bit of fun. We're staying.” And he pushed past her. The others surged past as well, as she muttered and sputtered after them until it was just her and the gent in the top hat. He eyed her impassively. She pointed a finger accusingly “Not another word.And Ellie stormed off after the others.
She jogged towards the stairs, but this action came with terrible new surprises. Her body was heavier, stiffer, full of twinges alien to the 19-year-old. Her previously limber body felt like a rusty suit of armour. She tried to take the stairs two at a time like she normally did, but her knees ached in protest, and she had to stop and use the handrail. By the time she reached the top, she was horrified to realise she was out of breath.
Ellie's body didn’t just look older, it was mechanically older as well. Weaker and creakier than it should be. Like all teenagers she'd taken the utility and freedom of movement that came with youth for granted, and now here she was - breathless after 1 flight of stairs. It was horrible. Why were the others ok with this?
But she had a feeling she knew the answer. She'd been queen bee. All the girls envied her, and all the boys wanted to see her naked. But now, time had stirred the pot, she’d fallen down the social ladder, and that meant others could rise. For one evening, the others were willing to deal with some grey hair if they could explore a new world order.
She caught up with the others, and the boys went up to a lavish, bar – a mix of hard wood and bright lights that looked both classic and modern – and most of the girls rushed to the bathroom to further assess the damage and make whatever adjustments they could. Ellie had no choice but to follow the girls, she had to try and salvage her visage before Rick saw her again.
Inside, the women's bathroom was a cacophony of shrieks and gasps as the bright lights revealed more horrors. It was strange to hear a chorus of “OMG!”s from older women – the hum of teenage vocab was an octave lower than normal.
The girls crowded around the mirrors, emergency make up in hand, as they tried to repair the damage.
“Jesus look at the bags under my eyes!” exclaimed a girl called Nina, who'd been quite pretty half an hour ago, but now looked like she was carrying two weeks shopping under her eye lids.
Ellie popped open her concealer, but one more look at her haggard face told her she was out of her depth. Her skin looked like tin foil that has been crumpled into a ball and then ineffectively flattened. It would never be smooth again no matter what make up she smeared over the gaps. Her eyes were a bit hooded now, making them look smaller and much less striking in a way no eye liner could fix. Her jawline, once sleek and defined, was softer and indistinct from her neck. All in all, it looked like parts of her face were collapsing, and Ellie hated it.
There was no cream or powder in her purse that could change this stranger back into the pretty face she knew.
The other girls were realising the same – their normal tricks and techniques were to highlight natural charms. With those charms faded or gone entirely, none of them had the first idea of how to hide the damage.
“At least our boobs are bigger?” Ellie opined, hoping to find a silver lining. The girls all hefted their new chests and mumbled vague agreement. Nearly all of them looked bustier than their teenage selves, but size wasn’t everything, with several chests in the group sagging severely (Those girls who'd gone braless tonight were seriously regretting it).
Ellie's own strapless bra was struggling under her tube top, with her once perky orbs having some obvious new issues with gravity. A heft and a squeeze suggested that they'd lost a lot of their firmness – a realisation many of the girls were making simultaneously.
“Eww, they're so saggy!” Maeve exclaimed, readjusting her pale breasts through the scandalous opening in her green dress. “Like bags of sand. I just can't even.” The former redhead looked like she might cry.
Some of the other girls, those who'd had A or B cups, seemed pretty pleased with the changes, with a bit of sag proving an acceptable price to pay for no longer being flat chested, even if it had also come at the cost of flat tummies.
“2032,” muttered Nina, “that was the sweet spot when my boobs were bigger but still perky, and my tummy was still flat. It was all down hill after that.” She lifted her new boobs under her t-shirt and lot them flop back down onto Her protruding belly. “Sigh. Why couldn't it have been a 2032 themed party and we could all have been thirty flirty and thriving? Not forty, porky and tired?”
There was a general murmur if agreement, confirming that things had really started to go to hell for their bodies in their thirties.
“For fucks sake, look at our arms! It's like bingo wing city in here.” All the girls lifted their arms, and collectively groaned as they pinched the loose skin that had appeared. Flabby upper arms seemed to a universal problem, except for Mary-Anne, who to her obvious smug satisfaction still had relatively toned triceps.
You could see the penny dropping that Mary-Anne had faired best out of the whole group, her slender body mostly closely resembling it's true 19 year old form.
“I'm so fat now,” Marry-Anne said, pinching the tiniest of pooches on her once concave stomach. She knew all too well that she was the slimmest girl in the bathroom, and was just drawing attention to the fact. Ellie didn’t take the bait, but the others did.
“Are you kidding? You're still so skinny! Look at me!” Sarah, one of the girls Ellie knew less well lifted her t-shirt to reveal a doughy, rolled stomach. Some girls laughed, but it was mostly nervous giggles as they self consciously put their hands on their own thickened middles.
Ellie decided this was the way to go though, own it, and try and laugh away her disgust at her body.
“I'm such a pear now.” She announced, running her now substantial hips. The disappearance of her waist and the hefty weight gain around her thighs and abdomen had nuked her hourglass figure. Not helped at all by the lower resting place of her breasts. “I've got hip dips and saddle bags and everything, just like my mom.”
“Such a shame, you had such a nice little figure. Guess it just wasn’t built to last.” Marry-Anne said cattily to Ellies shock. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment once more. “It'll be nice for Rick to see what we'll all look like in the future, before he makes any...rash... decisions about who to settle down with, don't you think? Save him the buyers remorse when your pert little ass collapses.”
“Fuck you! Skinny bitch!” she'd meant to say skanky, but to her horror her jealously prompted a Freudian slip.
“Ha! No thanks, I have different plans for who I'll be fucking tonight. And you might want to undo that button on your hotpants before it pops off.” And with that Marry-anne sauntered out of the bathroom, irritatingly small cling-filmed bottom wiggling as she went.
Ellie burned with anger. She'd never been mocked like this before, never been so jealous of another woman. Normally she'd have risen to the challenge, but how could she while she was stuck in this soccer mom body? Defeatedly, she unpopped the button of her shorts, allowing the bulge of her muffin top to breathe.
The ache of her lost beauty was worse than the ache in her swollen knees.
She had no choice but to fight on. Make the most of the situation, and endure this evening stuck as a pudgy housewife-type. She put her ineffectual make up away. Adjusted her strained shorts and tube top as best as she could, and marched out to the bar. Adapting to her new (lower) centre of balance in her strappy high heels was easier said than done, but she tried to use her newly substantial hips to get a sensual sway going. “This would look better if I still had a waist...” She muttered bitterly as she swooshed into the bar area.
To her dismay, none of the “boys” gave her a second look as she slinked through the room. Normally heads turned whenever she went, especially with her figure on display like this. Just a painful early example of her lost sex appeal. She burned with indignance. These “men" were all the same age as her, and would have killed to buy her a drink any other night of the year. But now she was invisible, except from a couple of poorly concealed sniggers at her newly flabby parts. The worst part? She couldn’t blame them – she didn’t want to look at her tragically aged body either.
Mary-Anne was sidled up next to Rick at the bar. Ellie burned with jealously again. She couldn't just stand there and let this skank take her man. She pulled up a stool on the other side of Rick and made a show of slipping as she took a seat, falling into Rick and rubbing herself against him – a classic move she often deployed on hot guys at bars.
Unfortunately, she misjudged the weight of her new, clunky body, lost her balance for real and clumsily crashed into him, spilling his drink and almost falling off her stool entirely.
She tried to roll with it and forced a giggle, running her middle-aged hand down his chest, just like she’s done two weeks when they'd spent a whole evening making out. Unfortunately, this time she was 25 years older, 40 lb’ heavier, and had just spilt his beer. Worse still, his hand had instinctively grabbed her at Ellies waist to hold her, or at least the flabby rolls that filled the void where her slender waist had once lived. As his fingers pressed into the yielding, doughy flesh, Ellie's face couldn’t hide her mortification, and Rick’s face couldn't hide his mild revulsion.
Perhaps Ellie should have thought twice before rubbing up against him like this. Her brand of flouncy flirting was a young woman game.
“Oh hey, Ellie.” Rick said, awkwardly.
“Hey hun.” She said, as sexily as she could manage, with her lower voice cracking a bit. “Crazy night huh? At least you still look gorgeous.”
Plan B – if she couldn't seduce him with her looks, she’d flatter his ego. Not that it took much effort here, he really had aged well, looking classically distinguished.
He smiled at that. “Thanks,” he notably didn’t return the compliment on Ellie's looks, wounding her already dying self esteem even further. “Can I get you a drin...”
Just as Ellie seemed to have an in, Mary-Anne interrupted “No need Ricky, I've got our drinks already.” The platinum blonde cougar put a beer in his hand and a hand on his thigh. “There's a booth over there, let's go grab a seat.” Marry-Anne led him away, and he put up no resistance.
Ellie was left at the bar, speechless.
“Well that was tragic.” A voice to her left opined. It was Eric, a guy she shared some classes with who was one of Ricks friends, but Ellie didn't know him particularly well.
Rude!” Ellie rebuked.
“Fair. Let me buy you that drink by way of apology?”
Ellie gave him the once over. He'd gained a few pounds in his middle age, and his hair had dramatically receded. But his face has held up relatively well, he had a had a strong jawline and a nice salt and pepper stubble situation going on. Plus, looking like she did, she could hardly be as picky with her suitors as normal.
“Fine. G&T. That feels age appropriate.”
He ordered, and she knocked half of it back immediately, to Eric's amusement.
“Don't judge me. I'm twice the size I used to be, my liver can take it.”
“I'm not sure that's how it works. I've always heard hangovers get worse once you turn 30.” Eric cautioned, but he swigged his beer at a similar pace.
“Great, there goes my plan to drink my way through tonight.”
“Not enjoying this little magic trick then?”
“Why would I be? Why are any of you?” She gesticulated to the room of merry middle-aged people dressed absurdly as futuristic teenagers. Most of them were giggling and examining each other’s flabbier forms with good natured curiosity and playful banter. “This isn't fun. We're supposed to be enjoying a night out in the flower of our youth, the best we'll ever look, and instead, I look like a bloody potato.” She grabbed her stomach rolls in revulsion.
“You don't look like a potato. You look good for your age!”
“How would you know? Do you have any friends in their 40s?”
“Well, no. Not really.”
“Well, you have me now I guess”
“And you me,” Eric said, grabbing his own belly and giving it a wobble. “Middle-aged spread buddies?”
“Urgh, fine. I'll let you buy me another drink if you never say ‘middle aged spread' again".
Eric ordered another round in.
Ellie squirmed in the bar stool. “Can we go grab a sofa? My back is killing me up here.”
Eric nodded, and Ellie hopped down. Her lower back was incredibly stiff, a sensation her 19-year-old soul was completely unused to. She arched her back and stretched her arms above her head, but it didn’t help in the slightest. Dejected she walked over and flopped down in a sofa, Eric right behind her.
Ellie put her feet up on the coffee table, giving her the clearest view yet of her new pins. “Fuck me.” She hardly recognised her legs, pale, blemished and chunky as they now were. She rubbed at some prominent veins that marred her once sumptuous thighs like ivy on a castle wall. “See what I mean?” She pointed at the offending appendages, her faded youth plain to see. “I just hate feeling like this. Trapped in this awful body, when everyone else has aged so much better than me.”
“You know, you'll be young and hot again tomorrow, right?”
“Yea, but in 25 years I'll be old and fat again. Sat somewhere feeling ugly and disgusting while my husband,” she gesticulated to Rick, “is off flirting with better preserved women. I mean, I knew I'd get old one day, but I thought I'd still look like me. Still be kinda hot, you know? Now, I know I won't, and it's a bit depressing.”
Eric looked her in the eye, clearly concerned by Ellie's crisis.
“I bet if I wrapped you up in cling film, you'd be pretty well preserved too. It works for salad, and it's kinda worked for Mary-Anne.”
Ellie ugly laughed at that. “Is that a genuine suggestion? I'll try anything to look a bit slimmer”
“It's a promise.”
Ellie noticed Eric's finger brush her exposed thigh, and a little shiver went through her body. Surely he wasn’t interested in her? Not while she looked like this. But perhaps more than ever in her life, Ellie really wanted someone to be attracted to her. She leaned her thigh softly into his hand.
“I think you're being a bit harsh on yourself. You're just unlucky that you've got more flesh on show that the other girls, that's all. If you look a bit closer, nobody here belongs in a Victoria Secret catalogue right now.”
“Alright, I'll humour you, make me feel like I'm not the ugliest woman here.” She looked suggestively into Eric's eyes , he really was still kinda handsome. Eric looked back into her still vibrant Brown eyes, and then started pointing out flaws in the other formerly young women.
“So, Maeve has got fat ankles now.” He pointed out the former redheads swollen joints. “That's not a good look on her.”
“Oh shit, yea. Cankles.” Maeve had been such a striking beauty, but without her red hair and slender legs she really did look old. “I still think her legs look better than mine though.”
Eric continued. “So Marry-Anne looks comparatively slim, I'll give you that. But she's lost all her shapes. Her ass is flat. Her knees are bony. The only curve she's got left is that little tummy pooch she's desperately sucking in. Plus, her posture's gone to shit, looked at those hunched shoulders? With all the wrinkles on top, she looks like a mummy.”
“Jesus, you're so bitchy Eric. Who knew you had it in you?” Ellie half heartedly protested, but this was making her feel better.
“I'm sorry, just trying to help."
She snuggled up to him. “I didn't say stop...”
Eric grinned. “Talie’s gained all her weight on her top half, her gut and her arms, but her legs are kinda skinnier.”
Ellie pulled away slightly. “Hey, that's not helping me and these tree trunks feel better about ourselves.” She crossed her legs, feeling her very squishy thighs mulge against each other distressingly.
“No, you don’t want to be top heavy like that. Pears are much sexier than apples.” He said, matter of factly.
Ellie raised an eyebrow. “Are you calling me pear shaped?”
“I'm calling you sexy.” he replied without missing a beat.
“Hhmpf. I'll allow it.”
“Plus her boobs have totally lost their shape, unlike yours.”
“Pfft, you have no idea what shape my boobs are anymore. Hell, I have no idea what shape my boobs are anymore.”
He leaned in close to her ear. “I'd like to find out.”
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up.
“So what is this? Do you have, like, a thing for older women? MILFs or whatever?”
“No, not really. I just have a thing for you. Always have, and contrary to your low self esteem, you've not lost it.”
Ellie's middle-aged face blushed. She was used to being hit on, normally she couldn't blame the boys for throwing themselves at her tight little body, but Eric's unexpected affection for her in her matronly form caught her off guard. Despite herself, she was charmed.
“So let’s find find out.” she said in a low purr.
“Find out what?”
“What my boobs look like.” She took his hand, and covertly moved it to her left breast, guided his fingers to suggestively trace the curve of her gravity afflicted chest, all with her chestnut brown eyes locked on his.
Eric swallowed. “Upstairs? Top hat said there was a rooftop terrace. Might find some privacy?” Ellie nodded.
She heaved herself off the sofa, grunting involuntarily, her newly decrepit knees and back struggling to lift her new bulk. After briefly feeling sexy again, she immediately crashed back to earth when she crashed back to the sofa. “Fucking hell.” She muttered. “I'm supposed to be 45, not 80.”
Eric had faired slightly better in he'd made it to his feet, but not without a grunt or two himself. “You're just not used to your new body yet. Want a hand?” he pulled her up, heaving as he did so.
“Hey, less of the heaving. I'm chubby, not a wardrobe you're shifting up some stairs.” Ellie bristled.
“Sorry, I'm not as young as I used to be.”
“There's a lot of that going around.”
Eric and Ellie walked back through the bar together, Ellie feeling a buzz of excitement about this unexpected fling that was on the cards.
Her buzz was cut short by Talie however, who tapped her on the shoulder, and then quickly took a photo of Ellie's behind as she glanced over her shoulder.
“Perfect! Sorry Ellie darling, just needed to capture your posterior for posterity.” Talie cackled, showing her yellowing teeth. “Next time the boys are droning on about how fit you are, I'll flash them this photo and they'll remember you're mortal after all.”
Talie turned her phone around to show Ellie and Eric and incredibly unflattering photo or Ellie, twisting around and displaying back-fat, grey hair, and cellulite from her ass to her knees.
Ellie gagged. “Jesus, I'm a wreck...”
Calm as you like, Eric reached out and plucked the phone from Talie, and deposited it into a full pint glass on the bar. The screen sizzled and then went blank.
“Hey what the fuck!” Talie started to rescue her phone and Eric quickly led a giggling Ellie away.
“My hero!” she punched him in the arm. “You didn't have to do that.”
Eric shrugged. “That was a bitch move, couldn't just let her get away with it.”
As they scurried into the corridor, Ellie stopped him and pushed him gently against the corner wall.
“You know, if you'd let her keep that fugly photo of me, let the other boys have a permanent reminder that I age like milk, you might have had more of a chance getting into my pants when I'm young and hot again tomorrow. Less competition.” She pushed her milfy body up against his, lips ever closer to his.
“I'd rather get into your pants tonight.” he kissed her. Even though Ellie had him pinned up against the wall, she was surprised. He really was into her, 45-year-old body or not.
Kissing felt strange, with her confidence dented, and her once-plump lips a bit thinner, but it sent a shiver down her spine none the less.
“Upstairs?” she gasped, her new voice pleasingly deep and womanly.
“Upstairs.” He hurriedly agreed.
Ellie's heart was pounding. The eager hormones of youth stuck inside the creaking body of an aging housewife.
Ellie was going to lead him up the stairs, but hesitated at the last second, not wanting him to get a prolonged look at the collapsed remnants of her ass. Instead, she guided him to take the lead.
They scurried eagerly up the steps, but Ellie's knees and back quickly reminded her that stairs were a young woman’s game. At the top, she was once again flushed and winded, but tried not to let on. Eric might seem interested right now, but admitting how out of shape she was right before fooling around was too unsexy to risk.
Eric spotted a janitor’s closet, unlocked, and he pushed the door open and led Ellie inside. It was spacious, or spacious enough, and mood lit by a shade less bulb hanging from a cord.
Ellie flung herself at Eric, clattering broom out of the way to force him against the wall, lips locked with his. He grabbed her thigh and lifted it up against him, Ellie wincing as her knee popped at the gesture. Why did her body insist on constantly reminding her how old and worn out she was?
Eric's hands roamed around her mature figure, hungrily grabbing both the remnants of Ellie's teenage curves and the unwelcome new curves of middle age. He clawed at her skin tight tube top, and together they worked the overtaxed garment over her shoulders and cast it aside.
Ellie's chest was now clad only in an undersized, undersupported lacy blue strapless bra. She stepped away from Eric and moved her hands to the clasp.
“You sure you're ready to set these old ladies free?” Ellie said, trying to be nonchalant and flirty to hide her nerves at revealing the true state of her aged breasts.
“Absolutely.” Answered Eric, looking like he'd just won the lottery.
“Ok, we’ll, remember you asked for this.” She unclipped the bra’s clasp and cast it aside as her boobs flopped out. “Ahhhh!” Ellie gasped as her girls sagged free, drooping and spreading down her chest like two scoops of melting ice cream. “No. No no no no no!” The round, firm breasts of youth were gone, and in their place was the carrier-bag heft of a mother-of-three’s boobs. “Fuck me, they're ruined!”
“Hey,” Eric swooped over to her. “They don't look so bad to me.”
“Pfft. That's because you don't know what they’re supposed to look like.”
“Describe them to me.” Eric cupped her breasts. “I've dreamed about seeing you naked for ages, tell me what I'm missing.”
She put her hands over his, and together they moved her breasts up 3-4 inches. “So, for a start, they live up here, in an open affront to gravity.” She moulded their combined fingers to sculpt the heavy teardrops into rounded grapefruits. “Rounder, firmer, obvs. They used to feel like full water balloons, not like these socks full of oatmeal.” She squished her boobs together to form a hoisted cleavage. “No stretch marks, no veins, and my cleavage is definitely not wrinkly.” She concluded, despite visual evidence to the contrary. “You don't know what you're missing.”
“I do now.” He said, wistfully. “What about this?” he cupped her ample ass.
Ellie struggled out of her skin-tight hotpants and tiny frilly underwear with great effort. Hips, ass and thighs bulging at every motion. Eventually triumphant, she held her lingerie up. “Well for a start, these slip off *much* more easily.”
“I bet.” Eric's fingers probed the yielding flesh of Ellie's bare buns.
Ellie lifted his hands up and tried to mould her flabby behind into the shape of its former glory. “My ass is – was – smaller, higher, and curved like this. More compact and tight. A little jiggle to her, like jelly, but no sag. I squat. My ass does NOT sag.” She pulled him closer, her now totally nude body up against him. “And I’ve got no cellulite. Not a single divot.”
“Every girl has a bit of cellulite Ellie, don't exaggerate.”
“Not me. My housemates spent and evening pinching my ass to try and find some and make them feel better. They failed.”
“That's a hot image.” Eric was practically drooling as this faded beauty waxed lyrical about her former glory.
“Not that you'd believe it now.” She squished the cold, shapeless wet-bread of her middle-aged backside. “All those squats for nothing. I'm just another fat ass, washed up cougar.”
“I still think you look great for your age.” Eric leaned it for a kiss.
“Stop lying to me.”
“I'm just trying to make you feel better.”
“I don't want to feel better, I want to feel sexy.” Ellie pushed him. “Fuck me like I'm young and beautiful.”
Eric didn't need telling twice. He grabbed Ellie and picked her up, the 45 year old brunette wrapping her chubbier legs around his waist. He immediately regretted it however, as his back went out. Suppressing a grimace, he lowered her to the bloom closet floor.
Ellie arched her neck as Eric passionately kissed all the way down her body. He slid back, eased her legs apart and started planting slow, deliberate kisses up her inner thighs, higher and higher with each kiss.
Ellie moaned, intoxicated by the attention she never thought her mature form would get from a man. Her enjoyment spoiled when she looked down to see the dimples, veins and stretchmarks besmirching her thighs even as her would-be lover kissed them. She still couldn't believe these pale drumsticks were her legs.
She pulled at Eric's clothes to distract herself from her body woes. Unbuttoning his shirt, unhooking his strained belt buckle. Ellie was no virgin, she'd undressed her fair share of men, but she'd never been with a man so old before. She wasn't used to a beer belly in pace of abs. But she was in no place to throw stones.
Her hand reached for his groin, felt his growing manhood as she rubbed the outside of his boxers, and she bit her lip. “I can't believe you want me, like this.”
“You're gorgeous, but I'll confess relieved everything down there still works.”
She flipped him over and straddled Eric, easing him inside her. She gyrated back and forth, finding her rhythm eventually, once she got used to the extra weight of her body sloshing about. Eric greedily fondled her hanging breasts, as ecstasy rocked through them both.
Ellie had almost forgotten about her predicament, lost in the moment, before she found herself slowing down, her older, heavier body growing tired at the teenage pace she'd tried to maintain. “Fuck.” She thought, red faced and out of breath. “My stamina has gone to shit!” Ellie couldn't believe it, they'd barely started, and she was knackered! This body was a joke.
Luckily, Eric wasn't deterred and eased himself back ontop. He grabbed each of her ankles, pulled her legs spread eagle, and thrust deep inside her. Ellie gasped, trying to ignore the sweat on her brow and the folds of her doughy, contorted stomach.
Again, Ellie closed her eyes and was lost in sensation, of unexpected spontaneous passion. Only to be yanked out of her trance as her right leg cramped up. “Ah, ah, shit shit shit!” she retracted her legs, and tried to style it out by placing her feet on Eric's chest, her body folded double. But again, after only a few thrusts, her body protested, her lower back this time howling its objections.
Frustrated, she dropped her legs and pulled Eric down into missionary, her heaving bust pressed against his hairy chest, and whispered “Ok, change of plan, just this one time, fuck me like I'm a housewife who's not as flexible as she used to be...”
“Oh thank God, I thought you were going to give me a heart attack.” They chuckled, both frustrated and embarrassed at the limitations of their new bodies. But being both in the same boat, they gently caressed each other, expressing their youthful lust the best they could in their aged state, quickly climaxing in each other’s embrace.
“Wow. Well that was something.” Eric rolled himself off Elie, big smile across his distinguished face. “I've been fantasizing about that for months.” He ran his hands through her greying hair.
“I doubt this,” she grabbed a roll of her chubby new stomach, “was precisely what you were fantasizing about?”
“Well, perhaps not, but I've got no complaints.”
“I do.” The smile on her lover’s face dimmed. “Not about you! You were great.” She kissed him. “But about this, she gesticulated to her middle-aged form. “Don't you think it's weird? That we're all going to age. Get old and fat and saggy just like our parents? It's kinda sad.”
The euphoria of sex had faded for Ellie, and the reality of her present, and what it meant for her future, was weighing on her again. “I mean, my boobs are in my armpits for Christ's sake. I hate looking like this.”
“You'll be young again soon!”
“Yea, but this is my future.” She lifted a boob up and let it flop back down. “Saggy boobs, stiff knees and a fat ass. That's all I've got to look forward to.”
Eric picked his phone out from the pile of discarded clothes. “Let me take a photo of you.”
“What?! No way!” Ellie pulled her hands up to her deflated cleavage, trying to preserve her modesty. “I don't want a permanent reminder of my flab and wrinkles thanks very much! When this is all over, I want to forget this ever happened.”
“But I don't think you will forget about it. I think you'll dwell on it, build your 40 year old body up to be far worse than it really is in your head. Let me take a photo, wrinkles and all, and you'll have a memento to prove to you that, a) you're going to turn into a beautiful nature woman in time, and b) you still got laid!”
More creases formed on Ellie's unconvinced forehead. “Humm, I suppose having a reminder if how fat I'm going to be will give me some perspective to make me appreciate my youth when I'm slim again. Fine, but you better make it a good photo, or I'm deleting it.”
Ellie got up off the floor, with wayyy more effort than she was expecting. Her core strength was shot to shit under her new chubby middles. How did old people get used to feeling so weak? She couldn't stand it.
She stood, incredibly self conscious at her totally naked body, pendulous boobs akimbo. “Well come on then? Take the picture before I get any older.”
“Oh come on? You've got to pose!”
“I'm not posing in this husk, it's embarrassing.”
“You'd never take a nude just standing rigid like a soldier at 19, would you? Work it, give me some angles!”
“When I was 19, I had assets worth showing off. Now, not so much.” She wobbled a dangly boob about to underline her point.
“When you were 19, you didn’t need to pose to look hot, but you did it anyway. Those poses will make more of a difference now that your...”
“....old and saggy?”
“Mature. Let's go with mature. Just, humour me, ok? Pose like you're still 19 and you're showing off your perfect teenage body.”
“Urgh, fine.” Ellie ached her back, lifting her droopy bosom up and sucking her soft belly in a bit. She, extended a leg out, twisted a bulky hip, tossed her greying hair and pouted with her creased lips. She thought about covering her breasts modestly with her hands, but decided to go all in threw her hands behind her head. In for a penny.
Eric's camera phone flashed.
“Gorgeous.” Eric said softly, without a hint of irony.
Ellie's reluctance faded a bit at that, as she threw a few extra poses, to the delight of her photographer. Before long, she was giggling wildly, enjoying the ridiculous nature of trying to make the lumpy body look sexy.
As Eric showed Ellie the photos on his phone, at first Ellie just saw a wrinkled old woman with a massive flabby arse. Gross, how could this be her body? How could Eric pretend to find this lump attractive? But as they scrolled through, a middle-aged stranger relaxed into the photo shoot, Ellie saw signs of life. She was rocking her body, working with what she'd got, and the smile on her face made her look like herself again, despite the wrinkles. Plus her massive knockers still looked pretty sensual from the right angles.
She may not have been a fresh faced, lithe, pert little thing anymore, but this mature version of herself still had some life and sexuality left in her.
She kissed Eric on the cheek. “Thanks for making me see there'll be life after 40. Now come on, let's find my pants and get back to the party.”
Ellie retrieved her tiny black underwear from underneath some shelves, and squeezed back into them with great effort. The yielding flesh of her hips and heft of her arse were barely contained by the teenage garment, but the elastic earned it's keep.
Getting her boobs back into her lacy bra was also a trial. Even loosening the strap to the maximum, it cut into her back fat uncomfortably. “It's much easier to do this when your boobs sit where they belong and don't need to be hoisted up first. I don’t have enough hands for this...” She puffed as she finally sealed the clasp and contained her girls. “Now, for the hotpants.”
Ellie eyed the novelty silver shorts with concern. They looked impossibly tiny and lacked the stretch of her pants. “How did I ever get these on in the first place?”. The answer of course was she'd been 26 years younger when she'd gotten dressed up for this party. It felt like a lifetime ago, like something that had happened to another woman. “Well, here goes nothing.”
Ellie wrestled the shorts up her thighs, new flab bulging as she went. Her thighs crumpled into ripples of cellulite as she wiggled and heaved, the yielding flesh folding under pressure. She tried desperately not to think about Eric watching her in this graceless manoeuvre. Laboriously she made progress, until the hotpants reached her enormous, ruined backside, and it shuddered to a halt.
“Come on, come on...” She jumped and wiggled to no avail. Her new ass just wouldn't get back in its box. She stood there, trapped with her slinky shorts halfway up her arse, trapped in the sandwich of her muffin top and saddle-bag thighs. “Shit.”
Eric looked on speechless.
“Don't laugh, and don't you dare take another picture.” Ellie's cheeks burned. Could this night, this worn-out old body be any more embarrassing? She heaved the inadequate shorts off and cast them aside in a huff. “What am I going to do now? I can't go out there like this – a 45-year-old in a teenagers lingerie! It's obscene.”
Eric took off his plaid shirt. “Try this? It might be long enough to act as dress?”
Sure enough, his shirt was just about big enough to cover the crucial areas. Although her saggy arse still peeked out just a bit. It would have to do, and unlike her shiny crop top/shorts, it covered her squishy midriff.
“My hero. Defending my modestly with the shirt off your back.” Ellie hooked her arm through his as they headed back towards the party.
“For what it's worth, I thought the lingerie was still a good look on you.”
“You're such a weirdo.” Ellie hugged his arm closer.
Back in the bar, the dishevelled appearance of the “young" couple. Their grey hair tousled, their cheeks flushed, and Ellie in Eric's shirt – caused a stir.
“Gross, no way!”
“She pulled, even looking like that?”
“I guess she does have a certain MILFie charm...”
Ellie heard all their sniggers. At least there was nothing wrong with her hearing...
Eric got them drinks as Ellie looked around. The excitement caused by the novelty of middle age seemed to have faded a bit, as a lot more of her peers were sat down now, looking tired and weary in their dumpy forms. It was already 2am, and while normally the teenagers would have hardly started their big night out, clubbing was a young person’s game.
Maeve, the former redhead who should have worn a bra, as sat near Ellie looking shattered. She was massaging her gnarled looking foot, frown etched over her lined face.
“My feet are killing me.” She opined to Ellie. “Too many years wearing high heels I guess...”. She dug her thumbs into her calloused and cracked heel.
“It's my back for me.” Ellie replied. “As soon as I'm young again, I'm going to hire a posture coach.” The glow of sex fading away, the ache in Ellie's back had returned with a vengeance. Seizing up after her raunchy cardio.
“Good idea!” said Maeve. “And I'm chucking out all my stilettos. Comfortable flats from now on!” They chuckled. But both women knew that, more than likely, they'd stick with their bad habits until it was too late.
“So, how was it with Eric?” Maeve asked presumptuously.
Ellie’s cheeks flushed. “A lady never tells.”
“I can't imagine having sex looking like, you know, this.” She gesticulated to her aged body. “I normally do quite well with older guys, you know, Dad-bod types. Can't imagine they'll be so interested with me like this, they're normally cheating on wives who look like this.” She sighed. “I guess when I'm this age for real, I'll be the one they're cheating on with some slinky 19-year-old.” Maeve wrestled with a newfound sympathy for the women who's husbands she'd been shagging. “You're lucky you've found someone who'll fancy you when your tits are saggy.”
Ellie looked over at Eric, salt and pepper hair and pot belly and all. “You know what Maeve, you're right. I am pretty lucky.” She got up and went over to him.
“Forget the drinks, let's dance.” She purred.
“I wasn't much of a dancer at 19, never mind now.” Eric looked worried.
“Come on, we've only got an hour left. You were right, let's enjoy this.” She led him by the hand to the largely abandoned dance floor.
She pushed her body up against him, her belly making contact with him earlier than she expected. She still wasn't used to her new more generous dimensions. She moved his hands to her ample hips and swayed him to the music.
“I wonder what the music will sound like it 2045?” Eric pondered.
“I bet we'll hate it.” Said Ellie. “We’ll complain about the volume, and say music was ‘better in our day’.”
“Oh yes, 2020 was the golden age of music. They really made stuff you could grind to back in those days.”
Ellie took that as a hint and pushed her hips up against him. “Absolutely...not at all like this modern music.” Ellie leaned into the role play.
“And the price of drinks! You used to get a pint for a fiver when I was a lad. These days, you wouldn't get a packet if peanuts.”
Ellie laughed, twisted and pushed her ample arse into Eric's crotch. A regular killer move of her’s when she had a bum sculpted from marble. Perhaps a smidge less arousing now it was a burlap sack full of rice pudding. “I'm going to rock your world when I’m hot again, you know that right?”
Eric clutched her love handles and pulled her closer. “You're rocking it right now.”
“Ha. I've still got moves for an old girl.” Ellie did a slutdrop to underline her point... “oh fuck!”. Her 45-year-old back gave out with a painful snap and she nearly fell flat on her arse. “Help.” Eric caught her arm, and she shuffled off the dance floor sheepishly.
“Are you ok?” Eric asked, full of concern.
“Not really. That really hurt. Just put my back out...” her lower back was throbbing, and she couldn't straighten it. “Guess I'm officially too old to drop it like it's hot...”
Eric lowered her to a sofa and went to get her some ice from the bar.
“Well well,” Mary-Anne sauntered past and sat on the edge of the sofa, crossing her enviably still slender legs. Ellie had had legs like that, in her youth, the thought wistfully. No longer. “Feeling your age a bit Ellie? Is that body as decrepit as it looks?”
“You shouldn't squint like that Mary. It'll give you wrinkles.” The tall blonde frowned; she hadn't realised she was squinting. “Is your eyesight ok? Probably need glasses before those frown lines get deeper.” Ellie clearly struck a nerve, Mary-Anne’s 20-20 vision had deteriorated and most of the room was a blur.
“Snigger all you want, but lasik is cheaper than lipo. Richard won't want anything to do with you, now he knows you're just a soccer mom waiting to happen.”
“Richard? You're welcome to him.” Ellie looked over at Eric with a smile. “But word to the wise, when you're actually 45 for real, you'll be competing for his affection with all the younger, lithe women in the world, not just a room full of women your age. And if tonight's taught us anything, it's that Rich will go where the grass is greener.” Ellie smiled vindictively. “I hope you're very happy together.”
Flustered, Mary-Anne stormed off. Ellie was delighted to spot a couple of budding spider veins on the back of her rival’s legs as she went. Not such perfect pins after all.
After nursing Ellie's injured back with some ice and a couple of tequilas, it was finally 3am, and the group of prematurely middle aged men and women started to drift down stairs. Yawning and aching, the novelty of aging having run dry over the evening, the gang were positively dashing to the foyer. Or at least, shuffling along at a respectable pace for folk of their age.
Eric hooked his arm through Ellie's arm as she hobbled down the stairs. Her tweaked back making her move even more gingerly than her peers.
“This has been fun, you know.” She whispered to Eric as she lent on him for support. “Not the saggy boobs, or crows’ feet, or my creaky back. That’s all suckkkkked. But being with you, it’s been fun. Thanks for making an old girl feel young again.” She kissed him. “Now, let’s get my body back.”
Gathered back in the mirrored lobby, the teenagers took a look their weathered reflections for what they all hoped would be a long time.
Maeve stroked her grey, scraggly hair sadly.
Talie hefted her hopelessly droopy bosom, her French maid’s outfit still looking tragic.
Mary-Anna traced the lines and wrinkles on her face, the lack of definition around her chin, the not-so-subtle beginnings of a turkey neck.
And Ellie put her hands on her flabby hips, still amazed at how undefined her once deft figure had become. She was more than ready to be the sexiest women in the room again.
The doorman in his top hat glided back into the room. “Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you have enjoyed your evening in 2045. I hope it has shown you a glimpse of your futures.”
“The only thing I’ve glimpsed is Ellie’s cottage cheese ass peeking out under that shirt.” Whispered Marry-Anne, not so quietly. Ellie fumed, but it would all be over soon.
“Please regard the mirror ahead, as we step back towards the present.”
Ellie squeezed Eric’s hand in excitement, staring intently at the “2045” in in the corner of the mirror.
2044
A few of the girls, Ellie included, wooped in delight.
This time, as they all knew what they were looking for, the effects were clear to see and feel.
Almost instantly, the throb in Ellie's back vanished, as her dance injury was erased from history. Then her knees stopped aching so badly, they even looks less swollen as the first hints of shape returned.
2043, 2042,
The greys in Ellie’s brown hair vanished, and the sagging in her cheeks reversed.
2041, 2040,
Strands of Maeve’s hair started turning red, slowly at first and then quickly erupting like a wildfire. She caressed her rejuvenated hair with delight.
The myriad of deep wrinkles on Marry-Anne’s face softened to lines, her neck tightening, and the veins in her hands diminished. Ellie was sad to see the spider veins on her rival’s legs disappear, her thighs racing back towards model-esq perfection.
Talie’s cleavage started its slow rise back up her chest, as he belly trimmed down and her voluptuous figure started to show signs of life once more.
2039, 2038, 2037
The women re-entered their late thirties and the cruel hand of time was reversed.
Ellie felt the tightening of her abs, as the permeating softness of her midriff abated and her waist popped back into existence. She hurriedly undid the buttons of her borrowed shirt to view the results… revealing a still doughy midsection, with rolls and a FUPA she’d have been mortified to possess any other day, but in the land of the 45-year-old gut, the 37-year-old tummy is king. She almost squealed with delight to watch the fat melt away more by the second, her love handles retreating like a melting iceberg.
Her ample sagging rear took this moment to join the revolution, rising up her thighs like the ghost of the Titanic. Apple sauce mush slowly reforming into the sculpted peach of her youth. Cellulite dimples popping out one by one, like dents plungerd out of car hood in the body shop.
2036, 2035, 3034
Everyone in the room was looking more and more like their young selves. Grey hair vanished, skin smoothed, and weight vanished like magic.
Marry-Anne looked practically perfect already, only the bags under her eyes and a few blemishes on her skin gave her away as being the wrong side of thirty.
Maeve’s feet had shed their callouses, her cracked heels looking smooth and youthful again as she slipped her feet back onto her strappy heels.
Talie’s flat ass was reinflating to its pleasingly plump former glory, and her cleavage had lost its crinkles.
2033, 2032, 2031, 2030
Almost back into their twenties, and everyone was comparatively glowing with youth and energy.
Ellie’s breasts rose up in her bra, filling out the cups and releasing the strain on her shoulders. Ellie mentally noted that it was around 30 when gravity would lay claim to the girls, which was a bit earlier than she’d have liked. She surveyed her body to get a snapshot of what it would look like at the big three oh. Not so bad, a few fine lines around her eyes and mouth, but her stomach was still a bit soft, a there was still some pretty blatant cellulite on her thighs and ass. But still, with all these flaws in remission it was hard to feel anything but gorgeous – thirty, flirty and thriving indeed.
2029, 2028, 2027, 2026
The last remnants of her saddlebag thighs melted away, restoring her trim silhouette to its full glory. The slight outline of abs returned to her now flat-again stomach, it’s foray into flab long forgotten. That first, obvious line between her eyes vanished, leaving her face flawless. She was a girl again! A hot, beautiful young woman.
2025, 2024, 2023, 2022, 2021
The teenage glow returned to everyone’s skin, even the slightest suggestion of bags or lines vanished from all their faces.
Ellie threw off Eric’s shirt in elation, and twirled her beautiful new body around for all to see. Tight abs, a tiny waist, full boobs, and of course magnificent perky ass. She was a fully restored sexpot. She caught Richard and Mary-Anne both staring at her sexy body as she twirled and laughed.
Being young felt incredible. She was so light and flexible and bouncy, the dead weight of her middle-years had been weighing on her more than she realised. Her joints felt like butter. She felt strong, and sexy. She looked around the room at her friends and rivals.
Maeve and her volcanic hair looked striking again, with her pale perky boobs restored to the top of her revealing dress.
Talie looked like a sexy French maid, all young curves and silky flesh, rather than a dumpy housekeeper.
And Mary-Anne was back to looking like a french perfume model, tall slim and marble perfect.
All of them were gorgeous again. But none of them was as scorchingly hot as Ellie. The queen bee had been restored to her rightful place.
She grabbed Eric's hand, shocked for a second by how handsome he was. She'd fallen for him as a 45 year old, so seeing him with a full head of hair, more muscle mass, and the hint of a six pack was a huge bonus.
“Come on handsome, you're coming back to my place. Let's see if you can keep up with me in my prime.”
Eric didn't need telling twice, and let his perfect 10 girl in nothing but her slinky lingerie lead him away, her pert and bounteous ass swishing as she went.
Richard looked on wistfully. “Man, I love to watch that girl leave...”. Marry-Anne clipped him round the ear with a huff.
As the party goers noisily dispersed into the street, the doorman looked on beneath the rim of his black top hat. Behind him, the mirrored wall and its clock read 2021 rather than 2020. A year maintained, as payment from guests for the lessons learned tonight. Not one soul among them noticed the clock never finished its countdown. Nobody ever did. The joy of 24 years of youth returned is indistinguishable from 25. After all. What difference could a mere year make to those in the flower of youth?
Although as Ellie walked away, hand in hand with Eric, the discerning doorman couldn't help but notice a single dimple of cellulite on the girl's memorable ass.
Oh well, thought he. Nothing lasts forever.