When Shy Abby started her internship at a bakery in Paris, she didn't expect to be working for the beautiful, talented, outgoing Gia. Will romance bloom? Find out in A Taste of Paris, a furry / anthro illustrated story with weight gain elements. Includes dozens of shaded, colors pictures and 8,000 words. Excerpt below:
~~~
“I wanted to ask, have you found a place yet, darling?” said Gia, as she locked up the front door.
“Uh…no, I’m staying at a youth hostel until I…”
“Great! So no place? You’ll stay with me, then,” she said, clasping her hands together.
She’d phrased it as a statement of fact, rather than as an offer, I realized. Was talking that way a French thing, or was it a Gia thing?
Oh my God, I then thought – I’m staying with her! It was exhilarating to think I’d be staying with Gia, but the thought that I’d be rooming with my boss seemed like a recipe for trouble.
“How much do you want for rent? Because I can’t afford …” I asked, hoping that might give me an easy out.
“Rent? Rent??” she asked, bursting into gales of laughter. I didn’t know why she was laughing, but it proved infectious, and I started giggling too. It was so unlike hers – mine being high pitched and chortling, like a schoolgirl watching a cartoon, and hers was deep, throaty, the kind of laugh you let out after hearing a raunchy joke.
“You silly girl,” she said, reaching towards me and pulling me into a tight embrace, then planting two air kisses on either sides of my ears. This one felt more like it was a French rather than Gia thing, I decided – but at this point, Gia clearly knew I was shy American, so her decision to do the gesture anyhow might itself qualify as a Gia thing.
“I won’t charge you a…how you say? Pretty penny,” she said as she pulled away.
“Oh…thank you, thank you…” I babbled.
“Come,” she said, grabbing my hand and leading me away from the store. I assumed she was leading me to her place, and was surprised when we wandered into an outdoor market.
“You live here?” I asked. I knew it was a stupid question before the words left my lips, so why’d I say it? Was being around Gia making me perpetually flustered, or was I just hoping to get another ‘you silly girl’ hug?
“Yes, welcome home.” said Gia. “My fireplace is that flambe, and my mattress is those loaves of bread.”
I’d become so caught up in my own recriminations that it took me a few seconds to realize she was joking, and by then it felt too late to laugh. So I summoned up a grin, before reflexively closing my lips, on account of how I hated how big my teeth looked.
“Let’s get supper, shall we?” said Gia, who practically danced her way across the aisles, buying this and that unfamiliar foodstuff. She spoke French to every shopkeep, but she spoke it so quickly that I couldn’t hope to understand it. All I could take in was the garrulous raw sound, the inflection, the clearly cheery and pleasant tone with which she greeted the world. Even in English, I realized, she’d be speaking a foreign language to my ears.
Jonathan is devasted when the woman of his dreams, Marcy, turns him down and places him in the dreaded "friend zone." But Jonathan is in for a surprise when Marcy says she wants to be best friends - literally! She transforms Jonathan into a gorgeous chubby chick, just like her, and the two become best friends, forming a bond even more intimate than an actual romance. This is a heartwarming and funny magical gender transformation story with a "male to bbw" transformation, 6000 words. Excerpt below:
~
“Jonathan, while I’m very flattered, I think you should know, I think we’d be…” Marcy began.
Oh, please, I thought. Please don’t say it…
“We’d be better off as friends,” Marcy concluded.
She said it. She actually said it. The words any guy wants to hear least the in world.
“Best friends. BBFs forever! You know?” she added. The words sounded like pity to me, and pity only made it worse.
“Sure, thing. I understand,” I said, bowing my head, defeated. How many times I had hears a similar speech from a girl I’d liked? Far too many. “I’ll… be getting out of your hair, then,” I said, as I got to my feet.
“Jonathan? You’re not leaving, are you?” Marcy asked, with a surprising burst of emotion in her voice.
“Well. I mean… I guess not?” I hedged. “But, I thought you said… you just wanted to be friends…”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Marcy asked. “Don’t you have any close friends of your own? Friends who are closer than lovers?”
“Well…” I hedged. Closer than lovers? How would that even work? “Not… really, no.”
“No?” Marcy asked, pouting a little. Damn, those lips were sexy, I thought. I tried to shove that thought out of my mind – I wouldn’t get to kiss them anyhow, so what was the point? But I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Marcy was cute and chubby, with a warm smile, with wavy brown hair, rich hazel eyes, and creamy pale skin. I know a lot of other guys might not have been so impressed, but to me, Marcy was just perfect.
“Guys have… buddies, you know. Not BFFS. We don’t, you know, pour our hearts out to each other and paint each other’s nails or anything like that,” I said with a little chuckle.
“That’s a real shame, you should try it sometime,” said Marcy.
“I… don’t think any of my friends would be up for that,” I said, laughing again, this time my voice sounding a little more strained.
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong, Jonathan. You do have a friend who’d be up for it,” she said, winking a little.
“I… I do?” I asked, struggling to think who it might be.
“Of course! It’s me you big silly,” Marcy said, playfully slapping at my leg. The skin tingled a little where she had touched me, and I shifted the way I was sitting. If she touched me again, I was worried I’d start to develop a visible…
Cassie Diamond, a fading Hollywood starlet, has been given a chance to reprise her most famous role: an Ogre princess. But after an ill-fated encounter with Bruce, a thief who stole an enchanted artifact, Cassie finds herself transforming into an Ogre for real. She finds herself becoming bigger, stronger, taller, fatter. Even her personality is becoming more monstrous, aggressive, and dominant. Will she and Bruce find a way to return to normal, or will she embrace her new dark side? From Actress to Ogress is a steamy monster transformation erotica story, 14,000 words long.
Rat Romeo and Mouse Juliet are star-struck lovers, kept apart by the cruel bigotry of their societies. When Juliet is threatened with an arranged marriage, she decides to take matters into her own hands, seeking a potion to transform herself into a rat. But Juliet quickly discovers she's becoming something far more than just an ordinary rat...This is a furry / anthro weight gain tale, illustrated with over 40 pictures.
In Transformation Park, every ride and concession stand can transform reality. Get fattened up on the Hansel and Gretel Ride, attend a gender-bending ball, or watch your crush steal your muscles in the "Test Your Strength" booth. Over a dozen erotic transformation tales of all kinds await you inside...
You can read the first section of the book, "Hansel and Gretel," free on this site. Hansel and Gretel (spoiler alert!) contains weight gain, age progression, and gender change.
This is an excerpt from Transformation Park
Fairy Tale Land: The Journey Begins
Jim made his way down the winding cobblestone paths of Fairy Tale Land, past the ornate castle and the giant trees, towards his destination: The Hansel and Gretel ride. It hadn’t opened yet, but he dutifully planted himself down at the start of the rope line, twiddling his thumbs for what felt like an eternity before another soul arrived.
“At last, some company!” Jim exclaimed. “I guess I’m not the only fan, huh?”
“Fan?” Emily asked, tucking a few errant tresses of her short, dark hair behind her ear as she spoke. She had bright green eyes that were hidden behind glasses, and a plain, green dress that displayed her modest, slender frame.
“I figured anybody else standing in line for Hansel and Gretel before it opens has to be a fan of the story,” said Jim, who had a gangly frame and a tight fitting, black leather jacket. “Right? Right? C’mon,” he said, playfully elbowing her.
“I’m more of a student of literature,” Emily replied. “My dissertation is on cultural tropes of women in modern representations of traditional folklore, so I wanted to see how accurately the depiction of…”
“All aboard the Hansel and Gretel adventure!” a witchy voice announced, as the doors opened. “Remember, good little boys and girls must keep their arms and legs inside the cart at all times…”
“Come on,” Jim said, as they made their way to the old-fashioned looking wooden cart. “Wouldn’t it be tempting to live in that gingerbread house?”
“Tempting – that’s the problem,” said Emily. “Being surrounded by junk food like that? That would make it hard to count my calories…”
When a single cart arrived, Emily demurred, saying “you go ahead.” Jim got in, but the ride didn’t start and a second cart wasn’t arriving.
“I…I guess it wants us to ride together,” said Jim, and reluctantly, Emily sat down next to him.
The ride started to chug to life. At first, the cart drove past the woodsman’s hut, and the witchy narrator explaining the dire state of Hansel and Gretel’s family, and the evil stepmother’s plan to abandon the children in the woods.
“Stepmother sure is a bitch, huh?” said Jim.
“Actually,” Emily began, “the depiction of stepmothers as villains is due to the social pressure to uphold familial lineages, as well as a pernicious attempt to de-legitimize women who have…”
“Whatever,” Jim mumbled, rolling his eyes as he tuned her out.
But when the ride took them into the forest, it suddenly lurched to a halt. Jim and Emily sat silently for a moment, wondering if the unexpected stop was supposed to be part of the ride.
“Hey!” Jim finally called out. “I think this thing’s broken!”
Nobody replied.
“No cell phone reception…so I guess we just have to wait…” Emily said.
“Just wait?” Jim said incredulously. “You mean stay trapped in here for an hour while they fix it? No thanks!” he said, unclasping his safety belt.
“They said not to put your arms or legs outside of the cart!” Emily called out as he left
~
When Emily finally left the cart too, it had been over an hour. She didn’t want Jim to have been right all along, but she couldn’t very well wait around forever.
It didn’t take her long to reach the gingerbread house. Ordinarily, she’d have avoided it like the plague, but it was the next stop on the story, so it might be the way out.
“Hello?” she asked, when she walked inside.
“Hello, my dear,” said a woman, as she hobbled down the stairs. From her black robes, her hook nose and sagging, plump figure, Emily assumed she must be the woman playing the witch. “Won’t you stay for a nice cup of tea?”
“Oh, thank God! An employee! Look, my cart broke down – any chance you can escort me to the exit or something?”
“Your cart broke down, did it?” said the witch, stroking her pointy chin. “I seem to remember instructions saying good little boys and girls aren’t supposed to put your arms and legs outside!”
“I waited for over an hour!” Emily protested. “Jim just left right away! So like a man, to just take off like that and then expect the world to accommodate him.”
“Yes, men can be…reckless on occasion,” the witch ruminated.
Hansel and Gretel: Up in the Attic
One Hour Earlier
Jim only had to walk a few feet forwards before he was greeted with a powerful scent – one which unmistakably let him know he was on the right track: gingerbread. Like a cartoon character whose nose was ensnared by a smell tendrils from a cooling pie, Jim raced ahead through woods, eager to find the source, his earlier plan to find an exit all but forgotten.
He had to stand in awe when he finally came upon the gingerbread house. A veritable mansion, the place was festooned with every kind of candy imaginable, from frosted coconut “snow” on the red licorice roof, to graham cracker sidewalks to a gumdrop strewn front lawn.
But though the sight and smell of the sweets made Jim’s stomach noisily growl, they weren’t what he wanted to see the most. Where was the witch, he wondered? Was she going to be a model or puppet of some kind, or would they hire a real actress?
He couldn’t resist a peek inside – who knew what he’d find?
“Hello?” he called out, as he pulled the candy cane doorknob and stepped inside. “Anyone here?”
Nobody answered.
Jim glanced around anxiously. There weren’t any tracks for the cart, so Jim knew he wasn’t intended to enter the house, but the lights were on inside.
“Jim…come up to the attic…” came the raspy voice he’d heard on the speaker.
“Oh, boy!” he said excitedly, barely cognizant of the fact that she’d said his name. He leapt up the stairs two at a time, flinging the attic door open when he arrived.
Inside was a small room, covered in cobwebs and smothered in dust. There was a vanity mirror in the center of the room, the desk of which had a few strange looking bottles and an old, black pointed witch’s hat.
Something about that hat seemed to draw Jim in; he just had to feel it, touch it, try it on. As he crept forwards, he saw a witch’s face in the mirror. She was old, but had a fiery spark in her eye, and her lips were pursed into a lusty-looking grin.
“Go ahead Jim, try it on!” she urged. Entranced, he did just that, without giving it a second thought.
“You wanted to find a witch, Jim? You’ve found her!” she said, concluding with a terrible cackle. Then, her visage vanished from the mirror, and Jim was left staring back at himself.
Or, at least, he thought he was. Those bags under his eyes certainly weren’t there this morning. Must be the mirror, Jim thought, taking a corner of his shirt and wiping away the dust.
In the clearer reflection, Jim could see even more features which looked out of place: His nose was longer, and slightly curved forwards. As he watched, a tiny little wart bloomed near the tip, growing larger. The hair at his temples looked a little silvery, and his eyes seemed to yellow. What was going on?
Maybe it was the hat, he decided, and took it off. As Jim did so, a mess of long, oily hair tumbled around his face, like shadowy tendrils.
Meanwhile, Jim’s transformation continued unabated. Harsh lines burrowed their way into his face, creasing his forehead with years of worry and his cheeks with the signs of a perpetual sneer. He glanced down and saw that his shirt was starting to change into a dark shroud. As he reached down to feel the fabric, he could feel his flesh was becoming softer and larger beneath it. His chest grew two ripe breasts, which sagged considerably from a trifecta of aging, weight, and bralessness. His hard-won washboard abs vanished beneath a middle-aged woman’s fleshy gut, which poked out beneath the bottom of his robes. Jim reached down between his legs, and felt his cock and balls shrink and wither away in his hands.
When he looked back into the mirror, there was no denying what he’d become.
Jim thought about what the witch had said, that he’d “found” a witch in the attic. Did that mean he was the witch now? He’d had always sympathized with witch in the story and, later on, he’d developed a preference for older women. Now, he’d become the very type of woman he’d once lusted over.
As a finishing touch, the image of the fat old witch blurred before his eyes, as Jim’s vision dimmed. As it did, the reality of the situation finally flooded back into clear focus. As a witch, what the hell was he supposed to do now?
Jim heard the door open downstairs. “Hello?” Emily called out.
A crooked smile slowly crossed Jim’s dry lips. He knew exactly what to do.
Hansel and Gretel: Tea Time
“Won’t you please stay and have a cup of tea?” the witch asked. “Being a witch is pretty lonely, you know…”
“Well, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to chat about the effects of acting in a fairy tale re-creation. In most entertainment mediums, women are objectified as passive sexual objects, but you’re instead you’re serving as the recipient of different form of misogyny, right?” Emily asked, as the witch boiled water.
“You’d be surprised at how many men find old witches like me attractive,” came the witch’s coy reply.
“What? Really? I guess age is no escape from the perils of the male gaze,” Emily said with a chortle. “At least we’re safe when we have our girl time, right?”
“Right, right…you want some honey in your tea, my child?”
“Oh, no, I don’t eat honey unless it’s been certified organic, and even then the hypoglycemic counts are…” Emily began, but the witch already started stirring it in.
“Drink up,” the witch said, pushing forwards a mug, which bore an image of an angry, anthropomorphic tree on the side.
Emily had done her best to resist the sights and smells of the gingerbread house, but when the aroma of that cinnamon clove tea reached her nose, the last shreds of her willpower faded away.
“Just a sip,” she told herself, “just to show I’m a good guest and to know what it tastes like…”
It was the most sumptuous tea she’d ever had. Emily couldn’t help but gulp the rest of it down noisily, the heat from the drink causing her puffier-looking cheeks to become flushed.
“Wow – that’s…that’s…” Emily sputtered.
“What’s life without a little indulgence once in a while?” asked the witch, as she poured Emily a second cup and added even more honey than last time. “Go on, you deserve it.”
Emily nodded, but before she could take another sip, the witch placed her bony hand over the top of the mug.
“Wait, this time I’ve got to give you a snack! You can’t have tea without cookies, can you?” said the witch.
“I…suppose not,” Emily agreed. Cookies were strictly a no-no, but she’d just skip dinner to compensate, she promised herself.
The witch darted outside, and then returned with chunk of the gingerbread siding, topped with a few fistfuls of coconut snow and a giant gumdrop.
“Hope you know I can’t eat all that!” Emily protested. The witch just dropped the stuff onto the table in front of her, the impact causing the tea in the mug to slosh back and forth a little.
“Just have a few bites, my child…” began the witch, and Emily happily obliged. “So, I suppose a woman like you must have lofty career aspirations?”
“Maybe I’ll become a professor of humanities, something combining comp. lit and gender studies,” Emily began, dipping a tiny sliver of gingerbread into her tea before munching it down.
“Sounds like an awful lot of work,” said the witch, smiling a little as she saw the flabbiness of Emily’s arm increase with each dunk of her cookie. “Why not try something a little more slow-paced?”
“Maybe…just do stuff on social media, you know, to raise awareness about the consequences of stories…” Emily suggested. Now she wasn’t bothering to dunk each bite, instead she was stuffing her face as fast as she could. “That slow paced enough?” she said with her mouth full.
“I was thinking more…just lazing around and eating all day,” said the witch.
“Wait…what?” Emily asked, before letting out a little belch. “Excuse me,” she added quickly. She looked for a napkin, but being unable to find one, she attempted to discreetly wipe her newly-plumped lips on the edge of the tablecloth.
“No need to apologize, my child. Just eat your heart’s content,” encouraged the witch. But Emily, embarrassed by her behavior, sat in her chair, frozen in place.
The witch slowly got to her feet, her old hips creaking a bit as she stood upright. Slowly, she shuffled towards Emily, her arms outstretched.
Finally, she made her way behind where Emily was seated, placing her fingers on her shoulders and gently massaging her. “You’re so tense, my dear. Just relax and enjoy your sweets.”
Emily had spent most of her life somewhere between shy and standoffish. It had been years since she’d had so much as a hug, let alone a shoulder rub. The human contact felt kind and reassuring, and it was just the push she needed to resume her gorging.
Of course, getting Emily to get back to eating wasn’t the only motive the witch had for giving Emily a massage. Without good vision, copping a feel was the only way the witch could verify the results of her handiwork.
As she lifted the big gumdrop to her face and started chowing down, the witch could feel Emily’s shoulders growing rounder and broader. When she moved her hands down a little further, she could feel love handles beginning to force their way free of her top.
The witch leaned forwards just a little, and moved her fingers down, feeling the warm, soft, spongy texture of Emily’s tummy poofing out further and further with each bite. “Let’s give this thing some more room to grow,” the witch cooed as she undid the button on Emily’s jean shorts.
Emily would have objected, but the witch’s gentle ministrations were certainly helping ease the pain of her overstuffed gut. When the only thing left to eat was the frosted coconut, she grabbed it by the handful and threw it into her gaping maw, which only highlighted her developing double chin. A few pieces of coconut missed her mouth, tumbling down onto her developing bust and falling into her growing cleavage.
Those big breasts were thrust against the side of the table as Emily leaned down and licked up the last few grains of sugar that clung to the table’s surface. Her growing rear end stuck out further and further as she did so, nearly knocking the witch over.
When at last Emily had eaten everything, she leaned over onto the table, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep with a dull snore.
“Sleep tight, Emily,” said the witch. “When you wake up, I’ll really get started fattening you up!”
Over a dozen sexy transformation stories await you in Transformation Park! Get the ebook today on Amazon!
© 2016 by T. F. Wright. This is a work of fiction. All brand names are properties of their respective owners. Modeling by Angel Earl. Photography by Lindsey Gray at ShutterShock Photography.
“He was safe! Safe! Goddamn safe!” shouted Brian as he slammed his beer down on the end table.
“Honey, please, the language,” said Victoria, raising her palms close to her face defensively. Raven-haired with sparkling, eye-shadowed emerald eyes, Victoria’s femininity was only outdone by her retrained sensibilities.
“Sorry,” Brian began begrudgingly, “but that ump’s gotta be goddamn blind!”
“If he’s blind, then why are they letting him play?” asked Victoria. “Shouldn’t they have, you know, one of those ‘special’ leagues for disabled people?”
“I didn’t mean…and besides, the ump doesn’t…argh,” he groaned. “Didn’t they have any baseball in London?”
“Of course not—they have cricket. But I’m not much for that, either…just not a fan of sport, generally. So slow, so repetitive. No sense of drama, you know? Now if you were willing to give the theater another go, we could…”
“Get me another beer!” he grunted in disappointment. His beloved Cleveland Indians had just let St. Louis get a Grand Slam.
“Sure—I’ll get a coaster for you this time, then I’ll check the fridge,” she said, gingerly tip-toeing over there.
Brian rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he said, dismissively. She set the coaster down for him. He tried to reach out and grope her slender little butt, but Victoria just swatted his hand away and let out an exasperated-sounding, high-pitched chuckle.
“Microwave that sausage in the fridge, would ya?” he asked. “But smell it first, make sure it’s still good.”
Victoria wrinkled her nose up a little at the thought of smelling something unusual, and then crinkled her eyes at the thought of sausage.
“Did you see that CDC report I sent you on the dangers of red meat and colon cancer?” she asked.
“Yeah, I saw it. They’ll pry the sausage out of my cold, dead fingers!”
“That’s precisely what I’m afraid of,” she replied, and she left the sausage right where it was. “I’m enjoying some celery. I’m happy to share, if you’d like.”
“No way,” Brian said brusquely. Victoria’s vegan raw-food diet kept her exceedingly thin, without many curves to speak of. He’d heard that many women, upon getting married, stop dieting as strictly. But much to Brian’s dismay, Victoria hadn’t budged an inch, and neither had her curves.
“Does beer cause colon cancer, too? When’s that gettin’ here?”
“Brian, looks like you drank the last one. If you’d like, you can try a glass of this Petit Bordeaux I picked out yesterday…”
Brian shook his head as he extricated himself from his favorite easy chair. “I’m going out!”
~
“I watched the first half of this game at home,” Brian, unprompted, explained to the bartender. “But my wife, well…doesn’t care for it. Probably because she’s English.”
“Well, it might not be just that. There are plenty of American women who don’t consider themselves baseball aficionados…” asked the bartender. He had a shock of frizzy, silver hair, with a distinctive glint in his otherwise faded grey eyes.
“She says she prefers plays and such,” Brian interrupted. “She dragged me to ‘My Fair Lady’ last week. Can you believe that?”
“A real snooze-fest, I take it?”
“Oh yeah— but there was one song that stuck with me. ‘Why can’t a woman be more like a man?’ Well, why not, you know?” Brian asked.
“Not quite sure what you’re getting at…”
“We say men and women are meant for each other—but you know, men are from Mars and women are from Venus. Take my wife and me. We don’t have the same taste in food, in entertainment, in manners, in anything!”
“So you’d want a woman who’s more like a man, then?” the bartender asked. The question was unusual enough for a few heads to turn in Brian’s direction.
“Hey, listen, I’m not gay or anything,” Brian asserted. “I just, you know, wish we were more on the same page. You feel me, right?”
“Of course, of course,” said the bartender. “That can be arranged,” he added in a low voice, a little grin on his face.
“Huh?” asked Brian.
“I said, would you like another beer? On the house, on account of your troubles, my friend.”
“Yeah, sure, thanks.” Brian said. It certainly wasn’t what he’d heard the first time, but he wasn’t going to say no to a free beer. He put it out of his mind, and didn’t give the conversation further thought.
~
“Alright, Victoria, going out,” Brian said, putting on his jacket. After the debacle last night, he certainly wasn’t going to risk watching even part of a game with Victoria around.
“Out? Where?”
“Not to the store, if that’s what you’re getting at,” Brian snapped.
“No, just curious,” she called out.
“Well, if you must know, to watch the game at the bar,” he said. “Figured since you’ve got such a problem with baseball…”
“Brian, just because we don’t share the same interests doesn’t mean I have a problem with baseball,” she countered.
Brian begged to differ. His adulation of the game made any differing opinion a sign of disrespect. “Well…I like the bar food,” he threw in. “We don’t have any good snacks here.”
“Really? I got some Polish sausage at the market today…”
“You serious?” Brian, said, practically throwing off the jacket and heading towards his favorite chair. “Why the change of heart?”
“I know you left in a huff last week, and I just wanted to try to make it up to you,” said Victoria.
~
“Cleveland’s crushing it!” said Brian. “You’re my good luck charm, sweetheart!”
“Awww, much obliged,” Victoria said. But when Brian turned around in his chair to glance at her, he noticed she wasn’t looking at him, or at the TV screen, but instead at his plate, which had just a single bite of sausage left. She had a bowl of celery sticks in front of her, her usual snack, but she hadn’t touched them.
“You still hungry?” Brian asked. “Wanna try a bite?” He knew full well his vegan wife would refuse.
“Well, if it’s going to go to waste otherwise, alright,” she rationalized, heading over and grabbing the last little morsel. Brian’s jaw dropped—was she really going to try meat?
“Oh, wow! That’s…that’s…bloody brilliant! I know why you were so out of sorts when I forgot to pick them up!”
“Heh, you like ‘em, eh?” said Brian, smirking with satisfaction.
“Hell yes! Let me go heat up another!” she said, hopping up to her feet. Brian’s gaze followed her as she made her way to the microwave. Her walk seemed a little different, like she had a little extra oomph to her hips.
“So…” Victoria said, as she waited for the microwave. “How exactly does this game work?”
~
“Oh, let’s get some of these loaded potato skins! And some chips, salsa, bean dip, sour cream, guacamole…this is gonna be a great game day!” said Victory excitedly. “Hey, Brian, what kind of wine do you think goes with chips and dip?”
Brian was a little perplexed at how eager she was to join in his love of sports and of decent food. But why the sudden change of heart?
“Beer is usually the preferred drink of fans,” Brian said, trying to mimic her affected English accent.
“Haha, that’s pretty good!” Both the hearty sound of her laugh and the fact that she appreciated his joke were also totally out of character for Victoria.
As she bent over to pick up some jalapeños, Brian could see that her ass was a little rounder and fuller than usual. He recognized that she was wearing her “fat jeans,” an oversized pair which Victoria only wore when she was feeling bloated, but now they looked tight on her, showing off her improved caboose.
Brian moved next to her to get a closer look, and when she stood up, he caught her reflection off the mirrored lenses of the little tray of sunglasses at the end of the aisle.
“Hey, Victoria, you wearing a new shade of lipstick today?” Brian asked. Normally Brian didn’t pay this much attention to his wife’s fashion choices, but the bizarreness of recent events kept him on especially high alert.
“Nah, going all-natural for a change,” she explained. So that’s why her lips looked different. Victoria—or, at least, the Victoria he was used to— always wore makeup, even to bed. She had a plastic cover on her pillowcase to prevent smudges. Going ‘all natural’ was just so…not her!
~
“Want me to help in the kitchen?” said Brian, once they got home.
“No, no, no, you just sit on the sofa and relax,” she said. “The game’s almost on, and I don’t want you to miss a second of it!”
“Great, thanks!” said Brian.
By the time Victoria sat down, it was already the bottom of the third inning. Cleveland was down one against Boston. But the moment she took a seat, Cleveland hit a double.
“So, that’s good, right?” Victoria asked.
“Yeah, that’s good!” Brian said, before doing a double take. When had she found the time to change into a Cleveland Indians tee shirt? Did she even own a Cleveland Indians tee shirt?
“Open wide…” said Victoria, interrupting his train of thought with a loaded potato skin.
“Wow, these are fantastic!” said Brian. “Homer! Yes!”
“I’ll get us some beers to celebrate!” she said, running back into the kitchen.
“Let’s chug!” Brian said as soon as the cans were opened.
“Chug?” Victoria asked.
“You know…drink the beer real fast all at once,” Brian explained, rolling his eyes.
“Oh…right…” Victoria said. “Chug, chug, chug!”
They both tilted their head backwards using the exact same motion and started gulping the stuff down.
“Done!” Brian said, smashing the empty can on the end table before letting out a loud, proud belch. A moment later, he glanced back at his wife nervously. She’d been so nice to him today, perhaps, Brian thought, he shouldn’t push things too far.
“Sorry about that,” Brian said sheepishly.
“Quite all ri—” Victoria began, before letting out a loud burp of her own.
“Woah there,” Brian teased. “Better out than in, right?”
The moment of embarrassment lasted only a moment before the TV intervened again.
“Another home run! Woo!” Brian said, jumping up and throwing his arms in the air.
“Woo!” Victoria said, hopping up out of her seat, too. As she raised her arms, her T-shirt rode up on her just slightly. Brian could see a tiny little roll of fat sticking out over her jeans. Beer bellies didn’t happen that fast, did they?
The euphoria of the game—and the unique pleasure of finally getting to actually enjoy it with his wife—pushed the uncomfortable questions out of Brian’s mind, at least for the moment.
“What else did you make?” said Brian, as he finished off the second-to-last potato skin.
“We’ve got…” Victoria started, before she deftly scooped up the last potato skin herself and then shoved the whole thing down in one big bite. It left a little smear of melted cheese on her chin. “…burritos!”
“Great!” said Brian. “You’ve got a little cheese there,” he said, pointing to her chin.
“Oh, where?” she said, dabbing the wrong side.
“I’ll get it,” he said. Brian leaned in and licked it off. Her chin felt a little softer than he remembered. But he certainly didn’t mind the feeling of soft, warm flesh against his lips. Victoria leaned down and gave him a little smooch on the lips.
“I’ll go get the main course,” she said afterwards.
Brian had expected her to walk back with a tray of individual toppings and tortillas so that both of them could make their own. That would allow for customization, but it might be distracting and could cause them to miss a moment of the game if they were glancing downwards…
Victoria had the tray, but instead the tray contained two colossal burritos, each as large and as long as his arm, wrapped using multiple tortillas.
“Damn, girl, good job,” Brian said. “This is like…a Brontosaur's leg or something!”
“Glad you approve,” said Victoria.
Brian lifted the mammoth burrito and took a huge bite. Tears welled up in his eyes from the spiciness of the peppers inside.
“Another beer,” Brian gasped.
“Take one from the cooler,” Victoria said, pulling it closer. Cooler? When did they have a cooler? He didn’t remember buying it at the store with her…
Brian’s desperate longing for more beer to soothe his scorched tongue meant he was drinking that beer before asking where it came from.
Despite its spiciness, though, the burrito was heaven in a tortilla. Brian kept on eating. But before he’d even finished half of it, Brian started to feel full. Did Victoria really think he could finish two of these massive things?
“You gonna eat that?” Victoria said with her mouth full as she pointed towards the other half of his burrito.
“You…you finished the whole thing already?” Brian said, his jaw slack with shock.
“Yeah, and?” Victoria said, shrugging her shoulders a little. In doing so, Brian could see the indentations of modest breasts against her shirt. But Victoria was always flat chested. Was this beer goggles in overdrive, Brian wondered? Or was she really changing?
“Ok, we’ve got one on third,” said Victoria. “What should they do?”
“Hoping they go for a squeeze play,” said Brian.
“Oh, sounds fun, what’s that?”
“It’s where the batter hits a short bunt, probably gets out, but gives the runner on third a chance to run home,” he explained.
“Hmm…so sacrifice one thing for the sake of something better?” asked Victoria. Even in his tipsy state, Brian could recognize something about those words that sounded symbolic.
Brian looked at Victoria. What was she losing? Her makeup, her fashion sense, her femininity, her slender figure…
And what was she gaining? A love of baseball. Better taste in food. Some sexy curves. And, of course, a closer relationship with her husband. Everything he’d wanted, right?
A fantastic trade, in Brian’s book.
“Woah, they did it! Just like you said!” exclaimed Victoria, pointing at the screen.
“A squeeze play, nice!” said Brian.
“Wanna squeeze play with me?” Victoria asked. Just in case he didn’t grasp the meaning, she got up, sauntered over to Brian and placed his hands on her growing breasts. It was obvious that she wasn’t wearing a bra. Victoria usually declined any of his advances outside the bedroom, and was a cold fish even then, so this was a real treat!
Not many things could distract such an ardent fan like Brian from a baseball game, but this was one of them. He squeezed both of her breasts eagerly for a moment, enjoying their soft, spongy texture. He hadn’t bothered to wipe off his hands before he lustily fondled her. As a result, her shirt was now smeared with the wet slurry that issued forth from the bottom of his overstuffed burrito.
But his wife, who’d been an OCD neatnik just a few days ago, merely giggled. Then she lay down across Brian’s lap. Brian was surprised at how heavy she felt. She leaned across him to grab what remained of his burrito and started stuffing herself.
“Mmph,” she said, as she struggled to undo the button on her jeans with just one hand.
“I got it,” said Brian, helping her poor, beleaguered tummy break free. Watching it jump out was a sight to behold—a little, white, proud dome suddenly leaping to attention. And with each bite of the burrito, her tummy grew larger and larger.
Brian had always liked a girl with a little meat on her bones. Watching her hedonistic gorging cause her doughy belly rise like bread in the oven was deliciously erotic.
The chair groaned a little as Victoria’s weight increased. As her arms strained to pick up the last few sautéed onions that had fallen out of the burrito, Brian could see them growing thicker and huskier. When she licked and smacked her lips after slucking them down, Brian could see her lips growing thicker and her cheeks getting rounder.
“What’s wrong, honey?” Victoria asked Brian. “You’re barely paying attention to the game.”
“I’m just…admiring how beautiful you are,” said Brian, thankful that he could evade the true intent of the question without having to actually lie to her.
“Aww, you’re such a sweetie,” she said. She put her arm around the back of his neck and grunted a little as she struggled to pull herself up again. The posture bent her body forwards and accentuated her tummy, making it look even larger than it was.
“You feeling a little randy, Brian?” she said, obviously feeling his erection digging into her plumper thigh.
“Maybe a little,” he confessed.
“Is that a common thing? Men getting aroused by baseball, that is?” Victoria teased.
“It’s only common when you’re around,” said Brian.
“I’d say let’s take this to the bedroom,” said Victoria, “But I don’t want you to miss any of the game.”
“Well, I mean…I love baseball, but I don’t think I love it—” Brian began, but Victoria silenced him by putting her finger across his lips.
“Shh…just listen to yourself, Brian. I don’t want to make you choose between two things you love,” she cooed. Slowly, she pulled off her tee shirt. She didn’t do it slowly just to be sexy—Victoria was having a hard time getting her too-big body through the arm sleeves and neck hole—but the unintentional snail’s pace of it all made her disrobing more tantalizing than the most perfectly practiced striptease.
She threw the tee shirt behind her and it landed on the windowsill behind the TV. The image of the Cleveland Indians was visible, but so were the stains she’d racked up with her messy meal.
Next, she stood up and shimmied her legs, trying to escape her jeans. Easier said than done, of course—after the amount of weight she’d put on tonight, her fat pants looked like skinny jeans. Finally, with a series of determined tugs, she managed to get them off, revealing the beautiful, wide flare of her new hips.
“That was an ordeal,” she said with a sigh. “Now, where were we? Oh…I remember,” she added slyly, straddling him on the sofa, before helping him out of his own jeans.
Victoria’s softer, creamy thighs gently rubbed against his while they slowly ground together. With each motion forwards, Brian could feel his wife’s bust rubbing against his nose. Meanwhile, in the background, Cleveland just kept hitting run after run. Brian hooted and hollered in approval.
~
“Morning, baby,” said Brian when he woke up the next day. “I had the craziest dream last night…”
“What was that, dear?” said Victoria as she pulled herself up out of bed.
“Oh, fuck!” Brian said, as he looked up at her. It was real! Somehow, his wife had put on tons of weight in just a day. And she wasn’t wearing any makeup at all!
“What’s wrong?” she asked, stroking his face affectionately. Even her eyes looked different—were they brown instead of green now?
“I…it’s…I dunno,” Brian sputtered, his groggy mind struggling to explain what was going on without sounding like he was going crazy. “Something weird has been going on, that’s all.”
“Weird? What’s weird?” she asked, before yawning absentmindedly and scratching under her chin and her underarm.
“Well, you enjoyed a baseball game with me last night, right?”
“Sure,” she said with a little shrug. “What of it?”
“Well…I thought you hated baseball,” Brian deadpanned.
“So? I’m trying new things. Didn’t you want me to give baseball another go?” she asked.
“Well, yeah,” Brian said. He hadn’t expected such an ordinary explanation for such a sudden, dramatic, and inexplicable change. “What about eating meat?”
“I tried a bite and I was hooked. You eat meat every day, so you must know what I’m talking about,” she deflected.
“Huh…” Brian said. That seemed perfectly logical, too! The only thing that she couldn’t explain away was her sudden weight gain, but knew bringing that up was asking for trouble.
“Do you…you know…” he began slowly. “Do you think you look any different than usual?”
“Hmm…” Victoria said, glancing down at her plump little belly and giving it a good shake. “Maybe I put on a pound or two recently. But I didn’t hear you complaining about it last night!”
That was true. Brian was more attracted to her now than he’d ever been.
“There’s one downside, though,” said Victoria as she struggled mightily to pull on a frilly white blouse. “None of these clothes fit right!”
She sucked her stomach in and then yanked it on, but as soon as she exhaled, her belly flopped out of the bottom and her breasts managed to cause a seam to tear near the top.
“Then we’ll get you some new clothes! We could go to Bryant Avenue or Dress Emporium, or—” Brian began.
“Nah,” she said quickly, “I can just pick up some more tee shirts and sweats at Wal-Mart. I heard they’re having a sale on chicken pot pies, so we'll get some of those while we’re there. I’ll borrow your clothes while we’re out, if that’s ok,” she said. She then reached into his side of the closet without waiting for a reply, and put on one of Brian’s shirts and a pair of his jeans. He was surprised to find they fit perfectly. That didn’t make sense; he was at least 6 inches taller than her, wasn’t he?
“Hey, pretty comfy,” she said, walking up to him. Brian stood up and realized he and his wife were suddenly at eye level.
She leaned in and gave him a little peck on the cheek, before reaching behind him and giving his ass a little playful squeeze. “Alright, hun, let’s go to Wal-Mart,” she said.
“Alright,” Brian said with a shrug, surprised that she didn’t jump at the chance to go get some expensive, designer clothes. At least they’d save on some cash, right?
~
Brian couldn’t have been more wrong. Sure, Victoria had saved some cash by buying oversized, plaid, blue-and-red flannel shirts, stretchy blue-and-red yoga pants and sweat pants, and a sensible pair of boots now that her tiny sandals were no match for her growing feet. She also bought an 8 pack of Cleveland Indians baseball caps, “just in case,” whatever that meant. But the savings from the clothes was more than wiped out by the snacks that they got.
Pot pies turned out to be just the tip of the iceberg. Victoria had splurged, adding in stuff that she would have scolded him for buying until just recently: pork rinds, honey roasted peanuts, cheese-stuffed pretzels, spicy pickles, and nearly a dozen bear claws.
“Don’t worry, I’ll save you one,” she said, pointing to the bear claws. Then she let out a big, belly-shaking guffaw.
“Anything else you wanna eat?” Brian asked.
“Let’s stop by the soaps and deodorants,” she said. “Ugh…I hate the fact that it’s all pink and princess-y. Like they think every woman is stuck being a six year old,” she said, surveying the options, which had names like ‘Sweetly Soft,’ and ‘Delicate Delight.’
“Isn’t this what you buy?” Brian said, pointing to a pink tube labelled ‘Flower Power.’
“I…I guess…” said Victoria, struggling to square her memory of buying it with her current aversion to everything it stood for. “Maybe it’s time to switch it up, though, right? Let’s see what they have on the other side,” she said, turning towards the men’s section. “Primal, Dragon’s Claw, Elder Spice…oh, wait! Brian, you gotta smell this!”
With one hand, she reached around Brian’s face and covered his eyes. With the other, she pressed the stick under his nose.
“That smells kinda like…the aftershave I wore in college,” Brian said.
“Glad you like it! Wolf’s Bite it is!” she said, tossing it into the cart. Brian opened his mouth to object, but he didn’t know what to say. The smell wasn’t bad, per se—actually, it was pretty pleasant and brought back some good memories. But there was something about his wife smelling like his old aftershave that just felt…unorthodox, to say the least.
Brian’s shoulders slumped forwards a little as he continued to struggle with the dilemma.
“Getting tired? Let me push the cart for ya,” said Victoria.
“No, I’m…” Brian began, but when he wouldn’t budge, she gave him what she intended to be a gentle shove out of the way. Brian was caught off guard by the force of her impact and had to steady himself to avoid falling backwards against the shelves.
“Ready to go, Victoria?” he asked.
“Could you not call me that?” Victoria asked, narrowing her eyes as she frowned. “Sounds so frumpy and old, ya know?”
“What do you want to be called?” Brian asked, fearful of what the answer might be.
“How about…Vicky?” she asked.
“Sure,” Brian grumbled. Was anything else going to change today, he wondered?
~
“I have a good feeling about playing the Cubs today,” said Brian. “After the last one, I think this has gotta be a walk in the park! No pun intended,” he added with a sly wink.
“They’re much better than Boston, by any metric. So we’re the underdogs, no question about it,” said Vicky.
“Wha, really?” Brian asked, scratching his head. How could his wife really challenge his baseball intuition, especially since just a few weeks ago, she knew next to nothing about the game?
“Yeah, but that’s just your opinion,” Brian countered, feeling a little smug.
“It’s not just mine, it’s Nate Silver’s,” said Vicky. “I read on his blog that Cleveland’s got the ninth best Elo rating. Cubs are third, Boston is 16th.” Vicky said.
Brian’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t just her opinion! It was a well-informed opinion! Hearing that she could back up her claim with a qualified authority only made Brian angrier: it meant he really had been wrong. And, of course, it meant that Cleveland would have a substantially tougher time this time around.
“Nate Silver is the guy who created the…” Vicky began.
“I know who Nate Silver is!” Brian said, feeling condescended to. “Let’s just…get ready to watch the game, okay?”
“Sure,” said Vicky, walking over to his favorite chair and flopping her fat ass into it.
“Hey, is that a joke?” Brian said, trying to contain the frustration in his voice.
“Is what a joke?” Vicky said, stretching her flabby limbs a little and adjusting the reclining gear of the chair so she could lean further back.
“That’s…my chair!” Brian whined.
“Hey, you snooze you lose,” Vicky said nonchalantly. “Hey, while you’re up, think you could get some beers chilled, get the pretzels from the pantry, and heat up a few bear claws in the toaster oven?”
“But…but…” Brian blubbered.
“Hey, I made the snacks last time. Get to it or you’ll miss the first pitch,” she said, snapping her fingers. Of course, Brian knew there was no reason for him to feel angry—he shouldn’t have a monopoly on the good chair, or on not making snacks. But once again, the salience of her point only made his situation more difficult to endure. Not only did his pride and manhood feel as if they were under siege, he also knew he had no grounds to complain about it.
~
“Booooooo!” Vicky shouted when the Cubs got another run. “Fuck this!” she complained, reaching her fist into the jar of pickles. Her wrist had grown wider as her arms grew thicker and fatter, and it got stuck as she tried to extricate herself from the jar. She had to shake her hand back and forth to finally get free, which had the effect of spraying the carpet with spicy pickle juice.
“Hey, watch it!” Brian said.
“Pff, whatever,” she said, noisily chomping on the pickle before letting out a belch. Is this how Victoria felt, Brian wondered, whenever he didn’t use a coaster?
Brian watched with a worried fascination as Vicky gorged her way through the mountain of snacks they’d bought. With each bite, she became larger and messier in some way. When she ate the cheese pretzels, the definition between her chin and her neck melted a little, and her lips and mouth gained a few orange smears, as though they were a kind of replacement for the makeup she no longer wore.
When she dipped into the big carton of honey roasted peanuts with her wet fingers, some of the sugar melted, leaving her increasingly bloated, stubby fingers sticky. The pork rinds caused her ass to bloat, stretching the seams of the oversized yoga pants she’d just bought, as well as causing a little trail of crumbs to fall down her neck and land around her flannel shirt. A few fell onto the fabric and into the pockets, but most fell into her increasingly prominent cleavage.
Bear claw after bear claw went down the hatch, and as she devoured each one in a flurry of big bites and lip smacking, Vicky’s big tummy grew larger and larger. The tiny potbelly which Brian had adored had now swollen into a vast gut, much bigger even than his own stomach. It pushed outside the confines of her shirt, sitting proudly and widely across her waist, which was itself awash in thick, heavy love handles.
“I couldn’t have another bite…” Vicky began. Brian wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or disappointed. “So…I’ll just have one more beer,” she concluded with a drunken grin.
When she finished the last can of beer, she smashed it against her forehead. The motion caused a few more buttons to pop off, landing noisily around the room. Now she only had a single button left – it was between her big belly and her massively buxom breasts.
“Hey, we’re fighting back from behind!” Vicky said, when Cleveland finally got their first run, at the bottom of the ninth. “This ball game ain’t over yet!”
“Great!” said Brian, reaching down from his position behind the chair and fondling her breasts. They felt very warm and much softer than he expected in his hands.
“That’s nice,” she said, a wide grin breaking out across her chubby, snack-stained cheeks.
She wasn’t wearing a bra, so it was easy for Brian to gain access to her nipples and start playfully flicking at them. “Yes, yes, yes!” she shouted as Cleveland made another run and Brian twisted and pulled at a nipple at the same time.
“Strike three! That’s the game, folks!” said the announcer.
“Ah, no, no, no!” she screamed, stomping her foot and seemingly causing the entire house to shake. A little picture frame toppled from the mantle and shattered as it hit the floor.
Brian ran over to clean up the broken class. He examined the picture as he did so – it was one taken of Brian and Victoria, on the day they’d met. The two were as different as night and day back then, but opposites attract, right?
“Sorry about the game,” Brian said, as he sauntered back towards his wife. “But, hey, doesn’t mean the rest of the night has to be a bust…” he said, reaching back towards her breasts.
“Sorry, Brian, not in the mood anymore,” she said glumly as she crossed her arms.
“Because of the game?” he asked.
“They were one run away from extra innings! Maybe you didn’t notice, but I did!” she said angrily. “I almost smashed my head against the wall! There’s just no justice in the world to bring hope into the hearts of millions of fans in Cleveland and then snatch it away like that! Did you know that no sports team in Cleveland has won a national championship of any kind in fifty years? We’re due for some wins!” she ranted, her words slurred from the beer.
“We’re overdue?” Brian asked. “Come on, Victoria, er…Vicky. You’re a transplant!”
“So!? Weren’t you the one that wanted me to get more into baseball?” she replied.
That was true. He just never expected her to really do it.
~
“Was gonna watch this game at home, but can’t really watch baseball in front of my wife,” Brian said to the bartender.
“Really?” the bartender asked, looking surprised. “What’s the problem now?”
“She’s just…not been herself lately, hard to explain,” Brian said. He hadn’t had much luck explaining what had happened when he’d broached the subject with his wife, so Brian certainly wasn’t expecting to have much luck conversing about it with a virtual stranger.
“Try me,” said the bartender. “This one’s on the house,” he said, sliding him another beer.
“Alright,” Brian budged. “She’s just been acting really strange. She used to spend hours getting ready, always trying to look dolled up. Now, she just wears whatever, and her diet's gone to hell.”
“Ah, so your wife got fat on ya, huh?” the bartender asked. “And I take it larger ladies aren’t exactly on your menu?”
“Well, actually…” Brian began, but then trailed off. How was he supposed to admit that he actually enjoyed that part of the change?
“Watching the games when Cleveland wins is fun, but during the last game…” Brian started, hoping to change the subject.
“Ugh, that was a terrible game!” agreed the bartender. “I nearly smashed my head against the wall at that almost-comeback!”
“That’s what she did!” Brian exclaimed. “She just got so angry…and she’d been drinking, so that accentuated it…”
“I’m not sure why you’re so concerned, isn’t all of this what you wanted?” asked the bartender.
“What I wanted? I’m not even the man of my own house anymore! Let alone going to a bar with her. It’d be downright embarrassing, being shown up by her. Why on Earth would you think I wanted this to happen to her?”
“Weren’t you the one who said ‘why can’t a woman be more like a man?” the bartender reminded Brian. “You told me you wanted your wife and you to have more in common, so…”
“So…you did something?” Brian asked. “You messed with my wife!?”
“Speak of the Devil,” said the bartender, pointing towards the door, as Vicky walked in. Brian wanted to continue his conversation with the bartender, but he couldn’t say anything while she was around…
“Brian, that you?” said Vicky. “Thank God I found you, we almost missed the game! Against the Yankees, no less! Can’t miss that!”
“I’m gonna watch the game here,” Brian said. “This is a sports bar,” he explained. “I’ll see you at…”
“Sure, we could watch here,” said Vicky. “But first we gotta play this cute little game over here!” she said pointing towards a grip test machine.
'Will you be a famous baseball player?' the machine said, in brightly-lit letters.
“Oh, brother,” Brian groaned.
“Come on, it looks fun!” she said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a few quarters. Why was she keeping money in her pocket, Brian wondered – where was her purse?
If he was going to do something, Brian thought, he’d do it right. He grabbed the grip machine and squeezed with all of his might, trying to channel some of his frustration with what had happened to his marriage into the machine.
'Cold Fish!' the machine read—the lowest possible level—before making a “Wah-ah-ah,” noise.
“Cold Fish!?” Brian exclaimed. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”
“Move over and let me try,” she said, shoving another quarter in and biting her thick lip as she gripped the machine.
The lights shot all the way up. “Babe Ruth!” it read, and then played a MIDI version of “Take Me Out to the Ball Game.”
“Alright, you’ve had your fun, let’s go…” Brian said meekly. If she could leave quickly, maybe they could avoid an incident…
“Woo-hoo! This place rocks!” she shouted, pulling up a barstool between Brian’s seat and the three other patrons at the bar. Her big butt didn’t quite fit on the stool, and a little lip of excess fat hung over the edge.
“Vicky,” Brian began, “I don’t think that you heard—”
“Play ball!” she shouted up at the screen, as the game began. “Oh, come on, that was a strike! That ump’s blind!” she shouted, and the guys seated at the bar nodded in agreement.
Brian rolled his eyes a little and quietly sipped at his beer. Of course, he agreed with Vicky, but he was too proud to say so out loud. Would she notice if he crept out of the bar and tried to find another one, Brian wondered?
As Brian started to head for the exit, the bar doors creaked, and in walked a man with slicked back hair and thick black sunglasses.
“Hey, get me a Whiskey Sour,” he said. “With a yuuuge amount of sour,” he said. From the sound of his accent, he was obviously a New Yorker.
“Yeah, yeah, good one!” he shouted while clapping, when the Yankee pitcher struck out Cleveland’s first batter. “Let’s teach these mooks a lesson!”
“Hey, buddy…” the bartender began in a soft voice. “In case you forgot which city you’re in, this happens to be…”
“Pathetic, pathetic!” the man from New York interrupted—the next batter got a strike.
Brian was about to make a second attempt at escaping from the bar, but then his wife stood up. “Hey, buddy, we don’t take kindly to disrespecting the Cleveland Indians around here.”
“You’ve got a lousy team with a racist mascot,” he said, turning away from her and sucking down his drink. The pinched features on his face grew even more twisted and ugly in the process.
In a split second, Vicky wound up her arm for a punch and then flattened the guy. He tumbled from his barstool and fell to the floor.
“You…you hit me! I’m calling the cops!” he said, touching the little trickle of blood coming from his nose.
“Yeah, and if you do, I’ll say you grabbed my tits. I got some witnesses that’ll back up my story,” said Vicky. All the other guys at the bar raised their hands in the affirmative.
“You crazy bitch! I’m outta here,” he said, hobbling away. As soon as he left, the entire bar burst into raucous cheering and applause.
“Alright, I gotta piss like a racehorse,” she said, strutting her way towards the restroom.
“Is that the wife you’re always in here complaining about?” said one of the guys, as soon as she left.
“She’s a knockout – literally!”
“She’s a keeper in my book!”
“Are those tits real?”
“I…uh…thanks?” Brian asked, feeling a little stunned. He thought he’d have to feel ashamed of being with a woman like her. He never expected the guys at the bar to actually approve of the new Vicky.
“What is it, exactly, that’s got you so upset about her, anyway?” asked the bartender.
“I…um…I don’t know,” Brian said sheepishly. He couldn’t think of a single thing.
~
Cleveland dominated the game against the Yankees, winning by five runs. Neither Vicky nor Brian paid for their drinks all night, as the rest of the patrons bought their rounds on account of Vicky having provided ‘good luck’ for the Indians.
In the meantime, they’d both loaded up on bar food. Vicky consumed basket after basket of crispy onion rings, drowning each of them in a vat of ranch. Most of the onion rings made it into her mouth but some splattered on the floor, the bar, her shirt, and her double chin, which looked like it was in danger of tripling. Vicky’s dainty nose looked like it was broadening, too, taking on a more porcine look.
When they ran out of onions, Vicky switched to fries, which she grabbed by the handful instead of individually, as had been her custom. She squeezed the ketchup bottle hard enough to empty it completely, causing it to produce a wet sound similar to flatulence.
“What’s that sound like, huh, guys?” she asked, to universal laughs. Even Brian chuckled a little. Why fight it, he thought?
Each time Cleveland got a run, Vicky smashed her fist down on the bar in approval, causing multiple patron’s beers to spill. But they took it in stride – even when she was making a mess, she was still the life of the bar.
As Vicky rattled off baseball statistics that Brian had never even heard of and waved her hands around for dramatic emphasis, she caused the flab on her arms to jiggle and her heavy, bra-less breasts to sway and knock against each other. Everyone, especially Brian, was spellbound.
They took a taxi home – and, when they arrived, the driver told him that the bartender had covered their fare. He also said the bartender had left a note for Brian inside an envelope. Inside was a scrap of paper with just two words: “You’re Welcome.”
~
“What a night,” said Brian, as he and his wife staggered into bed. “I can’t think of how that could have gone better!”
“I can think of one thing,” said Vicky, pulling her clothes off, revealing just how much she’d changed. The delicate frame that she’d once possessed no longer existed. Instead, Vicky was a big powerhouse of a woman, someone Brian might have assumed was a softball player. Her arms and legs were both wider and longer than his, and as she leaned closer to him, he could tell that she was at least 2 or 3 inches taller as well.
As Brian felt her sloppy kisses decorate his forehead, he felt his pathetic worries about being ‘the man’ slowly melt away. Now, instead of feeling embarrassed by her, Brian only felt embarrassed that he’d resisted this for so long.
Brian soon disrobed as well. But when Brian leaned in to kiss her, she pushed him down on the bed instead. Then she turned around and leaned over him, placing her wide, cellulite-pocked thighs on either side of him, before gradually lowering her crotch to his face while her big, soft belly weighed down on his neck and chest.
Brian cautiously lapped at her, but his enthusiasm increased when she leaned down and began to lick his cock, eagerly swirling her mouth around him. Then she leaned against him, taking him all the way inside her throat.
The massiveness of Vicky’s thighs and ass meant that Brian could barely breathe, but that only enhanced the intensity of his orgasm when he finally shot his load. Vicky gulped it down eagerly. She let out a few deep groans as she came too, then gingerly rolled off of him.
Brian snuggled himself against the softness of her flabby shoulder, while his hands massaged her large, sweaty belly. Meanwhile, Vicky cradled his head in her large, hugely husky arms, while her fingers splayed through his hair. The flesh that brushed against his cheek was softer, warmer, and more giving than any pillow.
Brian drifted off to sleep with a big smile on his wet lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy. Vicky felt the same way.
The End
Did you enjoy this story? Then check out From Charlotte to Chavette: The Ring of Change Saga!
Liam's a liar and a thief, a no good London "chav" who steals a ring that has the power to transform anyone who wears it into the perfect match for whoever gave it to them. Unfortunately, he said his perfect woman is "twice as bad" as him! The pretty and posh lady on whose finger the Ring of Change now sits is in for a surprise. She's going to transform into a woman who is fatter, trashier, sluttier...a real "chavette." Liam should have been more careful what he wished for!
“Congratulations,” Maggie said as she squeezed William’s free hand. “I’m so proud of you.” Maggie placed the envelope containing his employment offer in the back seat.
“Thanks,” William replied, nodding while keeping his eyes on the road. “Working for this hospital really is an opportunity of a lifetime…but I’m sad that things will be different. We’re lucky that we were both in college together this year. But I’d rather not go off to the East Coast without you.” Maggie, still in her undergrad program, had a quite a few years to go before she would be were William was, finally starting his residency as a doctor.
“You’re sweet, William,” Maggie responded. “But, you know, there are other options.”
“We agreed that this the optimal decision. It’s not perfect, but we’ve already analyzed all the alternatives…” William said.
“Not…all the alternatives,” Maggie said with a poignant pause. “I could get on the track to graduate early, and maybe you could put your career plans on hold for a little bit.”
“You, graduate early?” William asked. “Well, I suppose. But what would it matter? You agreed earlier that given my circumstances, taking this job offer was the right thing.” William stated, somewhat confused.
“Pull over, honey,” Maggie instructed, and William complied. Their car slowed to a stop on the empty, private gravel road. “Tell me the truth: would you mind if things changed?”
“What are you implying?” William asked suspiciously.
“If I altered a few…little things. I’ve always felt that there was something just little out of place with us.” Maggie said slowly.
“How could you do that?” William inquired.
“Oh, leave that to me,” Maggie said through laugher. “I just wouldn’t feel right about it if I didn’t have your permission first.”
“My permission for you to do what, exactly?” William asked, feeling more puzzled by the minute.
“To make a few changes,” Maggie replied enigmatically.
“What kind of changes, Maggie?” William said exasperatedly.
Maggie leaned over the seat and placed her lips flush against William’s ear. She slowly and seductively whispered, “Special ones….and…” she added as she pulled away, “You won’t have to worry about your job conflicting with our relationship.”
“Well, that sounds superb to me. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, Maggie. I really do want to do whatever I can to make this work with us.”
“That’s what I needed to hear, William. Lie back in your seat and please, close your eyes.”
William still wasn’t sure what he was getting himself into. But he had learned to accept those kinds of instructions from Maggie readily, as it always led him to pleasure.
Maggie pulled her lithe body up from her car seat. She glanced around. The private, wooded road was still deserted. They had total privacy.
She slowly pulled her body on top of his and straddled him. She ran her fingers across his handsome, mature looking facial features. She felt her hands run other his suit-covered body, appreciating the muscular frame that he had developed with his strict exercise regimen during grad school. She concentrated on remembering him as he was, at that exact moment.
Maggie mentally said goodbye to William, the recent med school graduate. She placed her hands around the back of his neck, pulled him forwards into a tight embrace, and kissed him.
At first, the kiss was nothing more than locked lips. Then, ever so slightly, she used her tongue to lick his lips. The lips parted, and the two kissed for barely a moment before Maggie pulled her lips away.
“William, what do you plan to do now that you’ve finished med school?” She asked with purpose.
“Maggie, I’ve still got another year to go,” William casually responded as Maggie started deeply into his eyes. He did seem younger, though it was hard to really discern it physically. How well had she remembered his features from just a few moments ago? “You’re lucky you’ve put organic chemistry behind you in your undergrad. That was my worst year ever.”
“Organic chemistry?” Maggie asked. She hadn’t taken that course. And yet…as she thought about it, she did remember taking it, clearly. She both remembered taking it and not having taken it at once.
“Yeah, that class is always hard,” William said as he took advantage of their closeness by slowly grinding his body against hers, reminding Maggie that chemistry isn’t the only thing that was hard. “Were you thinking about next year? It’s going to be sad, if I get accepted to a really good hospital back east and I have to leave you behind here. I really don’t want us to be apart.”
Maggie bit her lip and nodded. He had an excellent point. She hadn’t fixed the problem with her alteration. Their transfer had only shifted things one year. He’d still be leaving next year. Their dilemma hadn’t been solved at all – the can had just been kicked down the curb a year.
She looked down at her boyfriend. He looked almost identical to how she remembered him. Perhaps there was room for more change. Perhaps the very best thing to do, Maggie concluded, was to make two the same age. If they were in the same year of schooling for medicine, this wouldn’t be an issue at all. One more age transferring magical kiss ought to do the trick.
Maggie mentally reminded herself to be careful before she began. She only knew how to do this in one direction, and it wasn’t reversible.
She leaned towards William and hugged him tightly. She thought about her memories from her last year of college – memories she didn’t have just a few moments ago, yet they were more real to her now than any memory she had in her head, perhaps more so.
She undulated her slender body over his fit one, exciting them both. Before she could decide whether or not the kiss was the right thing to do, William became overwhelmed with lust and their mouths met.
This time, the kiss was far more passionate. Maggie couldn’t help herself. She had only barely licked his lips before. Now that they were really kissing, she could feel the energy completely. The more intense it became and the longer it lasted, the better it felt. Maggie felt her entire body tingling with glorious sexual energy.
After a while, Maggie’s mind finally remembered the consequences. The kiss was enchanted, how could she have forgotten? She quickly stopped, but knew right away she had lingered longer than she had intended.
After the first kiss, William’s clothes had remained the same: the professional suit, which he wore almost always since they had met. Now, he had on a different outfit: one Maggie could never remember seeing him in. It was too casual, too unprofessional to be his.
He was younger now, clearly younger. In fact, it was obvious to Maggie that William was significantly younger than when she had first met him. Yet, the more she tried to convince herself of this, her memory changed. Now, she had two memories of her meeting with him: one, in which she had met an older, professional, med school attending man, and another…in which she had reached med school before he did. She felt her memories of years of classes flood into her temples. The effective instant education was almost overwhelming.
“I’m going to miss you,” William cooed.
“Miss me?” Maggie said in a daze.
“Yeah. When you leave for back east, you know.”
“Back east?” Maggie asked, still in shock.
“Yeah…the hospital internship…” William said sheepishly.
Maggie loudly groaned. She hadn’t solved anything. Their situations were merely reversed now.
And yet…feeling William’s caresses on her body and seeing the eager, young, innocent look on his face was fast helping her forget. She pulled him close and wrapped her arms around his back, letting her fingers gently play with his hair. She was the older woman now, not just in control during a few moments of passion, but also in principle. Was this the thrill William had once felt in dating a younger woman – the way it used to be?
Though he was young, William was not at all shy. She felt his arms starting to feel her body, still situated on top of his in the driver’s seat. They were, thin, scrawny arms, not yet defined by years of exercise. She could feel him, in his amateur way, trying to slip his hands up her shirt – which was a lot nicer a shirt than she had remembered owning before. She shifted her position on top of him to allow his arm easier access. She felt a tingle go through her body, and was surprised at how much there was to squeeze.
She turned and looked in the rear view mirror. Sure enough, her face looked a little softer, her cheeks and chin a little rounder. She suddenly remembered how she had put on the freshman 15 in college, along with more weight for sophomore, junior, and senior. That thought didn’t seem to bother her at all, though, as she rolled it around in her mind. In fact, as William’s arms roved up and down her curvy, softer, more womanly frame, the thought excited her.
She cuddled with her younger boyfriend, enjoying the sensations more than she had ever felt before. Their new bodies had a delicious balance.
But there was something more there as well. She had spent all their relationship, in one life anyway, as the younger one, the immature one, the uneducated one, and occasionally the submissive one. That was over. The relationship was completely in her hands. William was hers to shape and mold however she liked.
That thought aroused Maggie. More so than she already was. She loved her power over him, her new abilities to love and nurture him.
William was doing his best to remove her clothes but was having a great deal of difficulty. As entertaining as that was, Maggie could not help but start thinking that there were still going to be problems in their relationship. She was leaving for her internship, apparently, and William was still stuck in the middle of his undergrad. That wouldn’t do.
Or would it? She could probably manage, although it would be difficult. She felt a powerful urge to act, but the motivation seemed to be a mystery, if it wasn’t about saving the relationship.
The realization finally hit Maggie with a mixture of shame and delight. It was just at that moment that William succeeded in pulling off Maggie’s top. She could feel his erection pushing through his pants onto her bare, slightly round stomach.
She knew what she wanted to do: she wanted to accentuate the situation. She wanted to push it just a little bit farther. “If he was just a little bit younger, a little bit more inexperienced, a little more malleable…and if I was just a little older, a little more settled, a little more in control…” She could feel this train of thought rapidly arousing her.
The temptation quickly became too much. She leaned in, wrapped her arms him as tightly as she could, and kissed.
This kiss was different than the others. It was hungrier, more desperate. At first, she felt herself battling his tongue with her own. Then, she felt herself overpower him, kissing him more deeply than she ever had. She could slowly feel the magic running down, losing its power to change. She held onto his body tightly, continuing to kiss greedily. She wanted to drain him of every last drop.
When she pulled away, William was younger. Not really a boy, but not really a man either. A senior in high school, probably. Just barely legal.
His young faced stared up at Maggie with many emotions, including fear, excitement, and curiosity. Most of all, there was love. He gazed up at her the way a child might look at an angel.
“I love you,” he said as he pulled her in for a hug. The hug itself was innocent, yet at their height and position, his face was resting on her breasts. Not sure exactly what to do, but obviously interested in them, he simply nuzzled his face in them gently. The mixture of his innocence and awakening sexual curiosity was extremely exiting to her.
And how large those breasts were! Searching for an explanation, her mind was flooded with memories. Her budding, successful career in medical research. Long meetings and nights at the lab with little time for exercise. At home, plenty of time for milk and donuts. Ice cream socials at work…
“I love you too, William.” Maggie said at last.
“William? That always sounds so old. Why can’t you just call me Billy, like everyone else?” He asked in his younger, higher voice.
“Billy it is, sweetie,” she replied, stroking his face and feeling his young looking hair. She felt him cuddle with her and gently touch her body. His hands touched her husky upper arms and massaged her round pot belly.
She knew that the relationship was changed forever. Before the shift, it had been on the cusp of good taste in terms of the age gap. Now, it was completely past that. It was now almost completely forbidden and unusual, even more so now that the woman was older.
She sat down and pulled the scrawnier Billy onto her lap. William had told her about his late growth spurt in his early 20’s. Now absent that height, she estimated Billy was slightly shorter than she was. As she stroked his body, she reflected on the new roles they had. She was not merely his girlfriend: she was now so much more. She was the woman who would initiate him into adulthood, help him really understand his body. She would be a friend and an advisor to him, an educator.
As she cuddled with Billy, she reveled at the new balance their bodies had. She loved how she was not just older, but also bigger, taller, and softer than he was. She was in complete control.
She was now his nurturer, his protector. She would love him and care for him and even treat him like a child – a child eager to discover his budding manhood. She would baby him and love him, becoming almost a mothering figure to him.
All of this aroused her almost beyond belief. She thought about how they would look together in public. Others would laugh or be shocked or chalk it up to a stupid fad. The social friction she knew she would face somehow made it even more alluring.
Billy looked her straight in the eyes. His young face was filled with love and adoration and devotion.
“Maggie, you’re everything to me,” he said.
“You’re a good boy, Billy. A very good boy. Would you like Maggie to give you a treat?”
Billy nodded vigorously, and Maggie slowly slipped her hand down Billy’s stomach, tickling him as she went. His laugh was high pitched and childish. Eventually, her had reached his underwear and entered it.
She could tell by the expression on his face that the sensations were new and shocking, but pleasant. She gently went to work massaging his cock, and it quickly came to life in her skilled, soft hands.
Before very long at all, he was moaning with appreciation. Maggie leaned in and very gently kissed him, and he kept moaning through the kiss. He came quickly, spraying his body and his clothes with his own cum.
“That was really nice, Maggie,” Billy said, and he slowly kissed at her neck and breasts in ways which were both innocent and sexual.
Maggie used her other hand to gently caress his hair as she kissed his forehead. “Good boy, Billy. Maybe later I’ll teach you how to do that for me.” At that, his eyes lit up. “Let’s get you home first.”
As they switched places and she got into the driver’s seat, she noticed an envelope in the back. Maggie dimly remembered something very vague, the details fading from her mind as if in a dream upon waking. One detail remained as the others drained away. It was an acceptance letter – and offer of employment. But how could that be?
She reached back and took the envelope in her hands. It was an acceptance letter – for Billy to start his undergrad at her Alma Matter!
“Congratulations, baby,” Maggie said as she squeezed Billy’s hand. “I’m so proud of you!”
“College,” Billy grumbled. “I don’t want to think about it...”
“Why not?” Maggie said. “Thanks to that opening in division at my job, we can keep living together.”
“I’m just worried about the social life. I’ve never been the most popular guy in high school. What if all the other kids are mean to me?” He asked petulantly.
“Don’t worry,” she said as she lovingly gazed at him, “My Billy, my sweetie, my perfect boy, I’ll always be there to protect you.”
~~~
THE END
Want to read another story in which an age transfer helps re-balance a relationship? Check out Trophy Cougar Wife. Sherry is a trophy wife - a young little thing married to a rich older gentleman. But she has a resentful stepdaughter to deal with, and she feels unfulfilled compared to her successful husband. If only there was some way to flip the roles of their relationship...
“AP Elixir, huh?” Anthony asked. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s a new product, that’s why we’re giving away samples as part of this special promotion,” the man replied in a deep, low voice. Anthony detected the trace of a foreign accent but couldn’t place from where the man might have been born. He shrugged, put the flask of swirly, purple liquid into his pocket, and began to walk home.
When he arrived in his apartment, he took out the vial and gave it a second look over. He was about to take out the rubber stopper and try a taste, but then realized he had neglected to ask the man what the substance was.
“Probably some kind of energy drink,” he said to himself. “Well, don’t want to be up all night. I’ll just try it later,” he said as he put the drink away in the refrigerator. He gave the drink no further thoughts until several hours later.
~
“I’m home, honey,” Jillian, Anthony’s girlfriend, announced as she opened the door. Anthony was on the couch, watching a re-run of “Nip/Tuck.”
“Hey, babe. I went shopping,” Anthony replied.
“Thanks, after that workout, I’m starving,” Jillian replied. “I tell you, being an aerobics instructor really does tire you out.”
“Well, help yourself to whatever you’d like,” Anthony replied. Jillian, a diet nut, rummaged through the refrigerator for celery stalks and carrot sticks. She stopped for a moment when she saw the “AP Elixir” drink on the shelf.
“Probably just a new brand of energy drink,” she said without a second thought. “What the heck, I’m pretty beat today,” she said as she reached for it.
Jillian brought a plate of veggies over to the sofa and sad down next to Anthony. Her lean, ultra thin body was so lithe that her spandex almost appeared to blouse up. Her blond tresses framed her skinny, diamond shaped, youthful face.
“That new energy drink is fantastic,” Jillian said, after letting out a small belch and looking embossed. “You have to get more of that ‘AP Elixir.”
“Is that what it is, then, an energy drink?” Anthony asked.
“How should I know? There was no label…wait, why did you buy it if you didn’t know what it was?” Jillian replied.
“Well, actually, I didn’t buy it. I got it for free as a sample,” Anthony explained. “I just forgot to ask what it was. I just assumed it might be an energy drink, or…something. Do you feel more energetic?”
“Kind of. I feel really…tingly. It’s a good kind of tingle, though. Like a warm little shiver is going up whole body,” Jillian said. “And I’m really hungry, too,” Jillian added. “Did you pick up anything at the market other than veggies?”
Anthony paused before replying, a little suspicious of his girlfriend’s unusual behavior. “Well, I did get some sweet rolls with frosting…”
“Oh, give me some of those!” Jillian said excitedly. Anthony rummaged through the kitchen and produced the pastries, which Jillian eagerly consumed, bits of frosting smearing on her cheeks and lips. As soon as she polished off the last of them, she grabbed the shocked-looking Anthony by the back of the neck and pulled him into a deep kiss.
Anthony could taste the frosting on her mouth, making the kiss sweet. She tongued his mouth furiously and ran her hands up his shirt.
“I’ll definitely get more of that drink tomorrow,” Anthony thought to himself.
~
The next morning, he awoke to find Jillian preening into the bathroom mirror and making whining noises.
“I look awful today, Anthony. I didn’t party or anything last night…I just don’t get what’s going on?” she complained.
Anthony pulled himself out of bed, and took a look at his girlfriend. He suspected that nothing was really wrong, as Jillian engaged in this sort of behavior often. When he looked into the mirror, however, he was surprised.
Jillian’s face certainly looked a little different. Very slight bags appeared under her eyes when none had existed previously. Her cheeks were a little puffier than they were normally, and her chin was beginning to get the faintest beginnings of doubling. Faint laugh lines decorated her cheeks. Jillian was only 21, but now she looked like she was nearly 30.
“Why didn’t you tell me I had gained this much weight?” Jillian said, staring down at her body. “Come on, you must have noticed,” she said, pointing to her slightly puffier upper arms and the beginnings of love handles on her waist.
“No, I didn’t, really,” replied Anthony, shocked.
“Well, I should just learn my lesson,” Jillian replied. “No more pigging out on sweet rolls. Don’t buy any more of those, ok? They just tempt me.”
“I seriously doubt you could have put on a noticeable amount of weight with one little binge…” Anthony began, but was cut off.
“Well, how else can you explain it, Anthony? Please, no more of those, ok?” she said in a panicky voice.
“Ok, ok.” Anthony said quickly. He looked into the mirror again, taking in his girlfriend’s new look. The more he thought about it, the more he found he didn’t mind the changes. They gave her more mature, distinguished look. And the weight didn’t hurt, either. She looked much healthier, much more like a woman that wasn’t afraid to cut loose and enjoy herself once in a while.
“If this gets worse, how will I even be able to do my job? I can’t be an aerobics instructor and be out of shape. That’s like being a dentist with bad teeth,” Jillian said.
“Hey, it’s not all bad,” Anthony said. “Look, your breasts are starting to get bigger, too. They barely fit in your bra.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want them to get too big. They might get soft and saggy. I’m way too young for that to happen,” Jillian said.
~
“So, your girlfriend enjoyed the AP, I take it? I can tell by looking that you weren’t the one to drink it,” the mysterious man with the strange accent replied when Anthony arrived at his booth at the market.
“What does it do, exactly?” Anthony asked, still not putting it together.
“Come on, buddy. You can’t fool me. You’re the kind of guy who reads the stories online, who thinks about when your girlfriend is out of town, come on. AP.”
“Age Progression,” Anthony said, slightly blushing. “Alright, well, how much for more?”
“Two hundred buck a pop,” the man said, his face breaking into a big grin.
“That’s outrageous,” Anthony said. “They were free yesterday!”
“Would you have paid that much for something that you didn’t know would work? Something that you hadn’t had a chance to see in action with your own eyes? Come on, this is my business model. Are you in or not?” The man asked impatiently.
“All right, all right,” Anthony conceded. “I’ll take two more.”
The man opened up his trench coat and produced two more vials filled with purple, fizzy liquid. “Have a good time,” he said as soon as the money was in his hand.
~
“Ugh, today was the worst,” Jillian said as she entered the apartment. “I was so tired, and felt so out of shape. I hope you got some more of that AP Elixir stuff. I really need some right now.”
“Uh, well, actually…” Anthony said, feeling a little guilty. Maybe, he thought to himself, he ought to explain what exactly AP Elixir did before she had more of it. She had the right to know what exactly she was getting into.
“Oh here it is,” she said excitedly. “Bottoms up!”
“Wait!” Anthony shouted. But it was too late: Jillian had already finished guzzling it down.
“Well, that was great! Really hit the spot,” Jillian said. “What’s wrong, Anthony? Why do you look so shocked? You bought them for me, didn’t you?”
“Uh, yeah, I did…” Anthony said after a few moments of hesitation.
“Well, come on then, I feel great now. My body feels all tingly,” Jillian said with a smile. Anthony now knew that the tingling was likely being caused by her cells preparing to age rapidly. “Stop staring at me like that, Anthony, you’re scaring me.” She leaned into her boyfriend, pressing her fleshier, softer body up against his. Anthony felt exhilarated by the feeling. As he started to imagine was happening to her, and what was going to happen, he could feel himself become rock hard.
“Let’s make love all night,” Jillian whispered in his ear as Anthony smiled.
~
It was Saturday the next morning, and both Jillian and Anthony had overslept. Anthony awoke first, his head partially buried in Jillian’s blonde, messy main of hair. He was surprised for a moment to notice a few strands of grey amongst the yellow, and knew that Jillian was bound to notice herself.
For a moment, he entertained a frantic idea of breaking or covering up every mirror in the house, but knew that she’d find out eventually. He only hoped that she wouldn’t be too angry at him over what he’d done. He figured it would be best for him to just come clean.
“Jillian – I’ve got something to say, and you’re probably not going to like it,” Anthony began.
“What is it, lover boy?” Jillian said as she roused herself and gave Anthony a little kiss on his forehead. She kept her lips planted for a moment, then swirled her tongue seductively.
“I found out what the AP stands for in AP Elixir. It’s age progression,” Anthony said nervously.
“Age progression?” Jillian asked. “What a minute…is that what happened to me yesterday?”
“Yesterday…and…today. You had more of that drink last night, you remember?” Anthony said.
“More? I guess I better be brave and take a look at the damage,” she said, pulling herself out of bed and giving Anthony an eyeful of her new body. Her breasts were certainly larger, but looked a bit softer and sagged a little towards her tummy, which was now quite poofy. It also sported some generous love handles, and would have created quite the muffin top if packed into tight jeans. As Jillian raised her arms up to play with her new gray hairs, Anthony could see her upper arms slightly jiggle with that distinctive “old lady arms” effect.
“Well, I’ve got to say,” Jillian began, “knowing what’s going on does take a lot of the stress off it.” She turned around to face him, and Anthony noticed a few more lines etched into her face. She looked like a woman who was clearly in her mid 30s. “So this is what I’ll look like when I’m older. I think I look good for my age.”
“Yeah,” Anthony said excitedly. “You’ve aged really well.”
“Wait, you said you found out what AP stood for yesterday. When yesterday?” Jillian asked.
“When I bought more of it,” Anthony replied sheepishly.
“So the guy who sold it explained it to you, and you bought more of it. Why?” Jillian asked, puzzled.
“Well, to be honest, when I saw the changes yesterday, I kind of liked them,” Anthony began. “I’ve always kind of liked older women. I think the look really suits you.”
“You do?” Jillian asked, sounding surprised. “Well, what about this excess weight? I guess older gals’ metabolisms do tend to slow down some.”
“I don’t mind that at all. You wear the pounds splendidly,” Anthony said. “So…you aren’t mad at me?”
“Well, I wish you had told me what was going on earlier, but no, I’m not mad,” Jillian said, eying her new looks in the mirror. “I am a pretty sexy older lady, aren’t I?”
“Yes you are,” Anthony said.
“Well, in that case,” Jillian said. “I just have one question for you.” She walked back onto the bed and wrapped her new, fleshy thighs around Anthony’s torso. “I noticed two potions in the refrigerator last night. I’m guessing dating a woman in her 30s isn’t exactly the end of your fantasy, now, is it?”
Anthony didn’t reply, merely gulping and shaking his head.
“Thought so. Why else would you have got two?” Jillian started to grind her new, softer torso up against his. “Let’s see. From what we’ve observed so far, each drink seems to add nearly 10 years. Would you like to add another 10 years to my body?”
Anthony nodded again, too consumed with lust to speak.
“Would you like me to be ten years older? Ten years flabbier, ten years fatter? Ten more years of mature lines on my face? Ten more years of gray hairs to bury your face in when we make love?” Jillian whispered seductively, and Anthony groaned in approval.
“I’m going to go drink some right now!” Jillian said, and ran down stairs. Anthony followed her, and he could see her hands shaking with excitement as she downed the last AP Elixir. Jillian’s body tingled furiously and her rounder cheeks sported a wide grin.
They made love, right on the kitchen counter, and after a few hours of waiting, the potion took its toll.
~
Jillian was definitely a woman in her mid 40s now. Her face was lined with crow’s feet, deep laugh lines, and tiny forehead wrinkles. Some of the wrinkles on her face, though, were clearly being hidden behind the new roundness of her face. Jillian’s cheeks were round and chubby, and she sported a double chin.
Her shoulders were wider and rounder than they had been before, leading into some beefy, very soft upper arms and jiggled with the slightest provocation. Her overall skin was slightly softer and had a little more give under his probing fingers, with just a few hints of age spots. Jillian’s breasts, once small and pert, were now large and sagged low on her chest. Under them was a large, proud potbelly that would stick out of any clothing. Jillian noted that “women her age” often start gaining weight around the middle.
Her hips were wide and thick, giving her the appearance of a woman who had pushed out her share of kids. Her thighs were round and incredibly soft and creamy, just heaven to be squeezed behind. Her hair now had significant grey spots.
“Anyone who sees us together will think you’re some big cougar hunter, if they don’t think I’m old enough to be your mom,” Jillian said playfully.
“You technically are, now,” he reminded her.
“Oh, hush,” Jillian said, her voice now even sounding a bit more mature and husky.
“Are you worried about your aerobics classes?” Anthony asked.
“Screw them,” Jillian said. “I think I get enough of a workout right at home,” she said seductively. They leaned close and shared a passionate kiss.
~~~
Did you enjoy this story? Then consider reading Older and Wiser.
Sophia Rossi is a struggling college freshman with an unrequited crush on her older friend. While at a cosplay convention, she meets a woman who sells her a "magic potion" that will supposedly solve her academic and romantic troubles. Of course, there is a price...This is a tale of erotic age progression and weight gain.
