The Tyke & Mrs. Peters

by Chet

“…and when he got to the part about

Britney Spears and The Commodores

everyone laughed and laughed.”

CHAPTER ONE

Poor old Paula Peters put down her bottle of window cleaner and wiped her dusty eyeglasses on her shirtsleeve. The weary, rather homely old cleaning woman looked out at the sun as it began to rise over the rooftops just as she did most every morning around 5am when the twelfth floor of the Dynacorp office was finished being cleaned. Now the place was vacuumed, dusted and all the trash cans were emptied for another business day. It was almost time to clock out and she leaned against a bookshelf to take the weight off her bad knee. She could hear her boss Annie Abrams coming up the elevator to check on her and head home together.

Annie was getting old too, but at 55 she still seemed like a kid to 64 year old Paula. The two had been friends for a few years since being assigned to the Dynacorp Tower. They’d both worked for Tempo Cleaners Inc. for longer than they cared to remember. The two women were fast-approaching the end of their own usefulness to the working world and their pitifully small paychecks, lack of benefits and horrible hours were testament to that fact of life. Especially Paula. The old gal should have retired two years ago. But she kept right on working past retirement age. She needed the income and was slowly saving up for an operation on her knee but she never seemed able to get together enough dough. Her unemployed husband was a former car salesman who had “retired” years ago when he was fired for being drunk on the job. In the eleven-odd years since then his drinking had only grown worse. Even though six years his senior, Paula had supported them both ever since. At 58 Jimmy “Diamond Jim” Peters had managed to drink and gamble away all of the couple’s savings. Eventually they lost their house to the bank when they couldn’t pay the back taxes on it. Nowadays the couple rented a little one bedroom dump in the bad part of town. Paula worked nights cleaning offices while her worthless husband laid around and loafed in front of the television all day and all night.

The work was hard and the pay was horrible but she was actually glad to get away from that house.

As she heard the elevator doors close and Annie came down the hall, Paula grabbed her tattered coat and pulled it on. The plaid wool jacket was nearly worn out but she couldn’t justify spending her hard earned money on something as frivolous as a new coat these days. Money was always tight and lately it seemed tighter than ever.

Annie leaned into the corner office and rapped on the door frame.

“Well kiddo, that’s all she wrote. Let’s get out of here.”

Paula gathered their purses and handed Annie’s large bag to her.

“Don’t forget your purse, honey.” Paula said.

Annie grabbed her bag and patted Paula on the shoulder as she limped toward the elevator. The two women proceeded to the parking garage and then home. Paula always drove her husband’s shitty old Pontiac sedan, picking Annie up and dropping her off every morning at her house which was only a few blocks from Paula’s own house. She was happy to do the driving and besides, her car accommodated her weary 5’4” 160lb frame more comfortably than Annie’s little Neon could. It was a habit left over mainly from her fat days some years ago when she still weighed almost as much as her chubby hubby and a big car was mandatory for getting around in comfort. The onset of old age and over a decade of hard work for Tempo had caused Paula Peters to slowly lose most of that weight. Nowadays she felt like a dried out old bag of bones and right now she just wanted to hit the hay.

Another routine day was coming to an end as Paula’s car rolled up to the curb in front of Annie’s house.

“Here you go honey, home again.” Paula said.

“Okay then. Well, I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for the lift.” Annie said with a friendly smile as she hauled herself out of the car.

“Yep. See you tomorrow. Don’t forget your purse.” She handed Annie her bag.

“Thanks. See ya.”

Annie slammed the door and Paula headed home. She pulled the old Pontiac in her own garage just as the clock on the dash read 6am. She reached for her purse and noticed a piece of paper that was snagged on the ripped upholstery of the bench seat. It was a folded up letter that had fallen out of Annie’s purse when she got out of the car. She turned off the engine and read the letter. It was a love letter to Annie. Paula blushed at first and felt embarrassed at what she started reading.

“Dear Annie, I miss you so much. I hate it when you’re at work all night. I can’t wait until I can touch your body again… your beautiful body…”

Paula folded the letter up and covered her mouth in surprise. She waited a moment before she unfolded it again and kept reading. Annie’s admirer proceeded to describe in detail what he was going to do to Annie when he saw her again. The words were shocking to her. Paula had always been a bit of a prude, even in her younger days and certainly throughout middle age after her figure went to hell. Her and Jimmy hadn’t had sex in years. The love letter was a scandal. She read on.

“…my wife is nothing compared to you. Your sweet face… you breasts… everything about you…”

“My God, she’s seeing a married man.” Paula realized aloud.

“See you this afternoon, while Paula’s asleep. Yours, Jimmy.”

Paula’s poor sweat heart was shattered to pieces on the spot.

Jimmy Peters, her good-for-nothing husband who lay sleeping on the couch inside the house, was sleeping with her best friend and boss, Annie Abrams!

“Oh Jimmy. You awful awful man. How could you do this?” she asked herself.

She slumped over the steering wheel and began to sob, great heaving sobs that went on for five or ten minutes as she thought of her husband and her pretty young friend in love and sleeping together. She felt old and unwanted as she cried to herself.

Just then a white light flashed inside the car, like a flashbulb going off.

Beside her suddenly sat a little boy man who smiled, tipping his silver hat to her.

“Hello, ma’am. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” He said to a frightened Paula.

She stared at him dumbfounded as she fumbled for the door handle. His skin was light green in color and he was dressed in a white tuxedo, complete with silver walking stick and a pink corsage pinned to his lapel. He looked about the height of a five year old boy, with thin limbs, tiny feet and delicate hands. But he spoke with a man’s voice and had a rather impressive handlebar moustache which suggested he was older.

“I want you to know how sorry I am about this.” The strange being said with a smile as he sniffed the flower in his lapel.

“What… what are you talking about?”

“The letter there… this business with your husband and your best friend.”

“She’s my boss, too.” Paula sighed.

“And there’s that too. Yes. Such a shame. Well, I just want you to know how sorry I am.”

Paula looked at him slack jaw with a look dazed disbelief as he reached out and patted the back of her hand which still held the letter.

“Who are you??” She asked.

“WHO AM I?? Indeed. That is a good question and you are entitled to know. I am… well, you couldn’t pronounce my name… and I am only one of many such… um… that is, you shouldn’t worry who I am. The question is WHAT am I?” He said with an arched eyebrow.

Paula shook her head, “Okay—WHAT are you?”

“WHAT AM I! YES INDEED.” He said as he jabbed his slender index finger in the air in front of Paula.

“I, madam, am what you would refer to a ‘Tyke’. I am a being of no particular distinction among my class of… well, people. I come from the… how would you say it… the eighth, no… the ninth dimension? Something like that.” He said as he held out his hand for her to shake.

“Pleased to meet you.” Paula said as she shook this person’s tiny hand.

“Likewise, I’m sure.”

“Why are you here?” she asked.

“WHY AM I HERE. Very good. Very good. I am here on vacation actually. This trip to your world is costing me a pretty penny as you say. But at this very moment Mrs. Peters I am here to answer your questions. You have but to ask.”

“Any question?”

“Any question. Just try me, ma’am.”

“Is that ALL you do, Mr. Tyke? Answer questions?” the old woman asked.

“Is that all I do? No. It is not. Very good question. You’re good, Mrs. Peters.”

She laughed to herself for the first time. She tugged on her tattered coat for some warmth and asked her next question.

“Okay then. So, what else do you do?”

“Many things, Mrs. Peters.” He answered back as he folded his arms across his chest.

“What then, what can you do to help ME Mr. Tyke?” she answered with weary defeated old eyes full of tears. She was too exhausted for these word games.

“I can do anything you ask Mrs. Peters. Anything you ask.”

“Anything?” She asked in disbelief.

“That’s right Mrs. Peters.” The so-called Tyke said with a wink.

She thought for a moment and let out a heavy sigh of defeat.

“Can you make me younger?” She asked, staring at her withered and callused hands.

“I can make you younger Mrs. Peters.” The Tyke said matter of factly.

“Oh, CAN you now??” she asked in disbelief.

“No, not now I can’t.”

“What do you mean? Can you or can’t you?”

“One question at a time Mrs. Peters. I mean I can’t make you younger now, not until you do something for me.” He said.

“For you?” she asked.

“Well no, not for me. For you actually. I’d be happy to negotiate terms with you.”

“Terms?”

“Terms of the deal.”

“Can I ask YOU a question Mrs. Peters? A personal question?” he asked.

“I suppose.”

“Mrs. Peters, when was the last time you… slept with your husband?”

Paula Peters put her hand over her mouth and glared at the Tyke’s rudeness.

“It’s okay Mrs. Peters. You can tell me.” he said with a smile.

“A long time Mr. Tyke. A very long time. I’m an old woman.”

“Okay, let me ask you another question, even more personal if you don’t mind.”

Paula said nothing.

“Okay it’s like this Mrs. Peters; when was the last time you fellated your husband? I mean no disrespect ma’am, but when was the last time you… how do I say this… sucked his cock?”’

Paula Peters went to slap the little man across his face but her palm met with a soft force field that protected him.

“I’ll have you know I have never sucked anyone’s… cock, Mr. Tyke.”

“Alright then. That’s something I can work with.” He said as he made some calculations in his head. He bit his lip, doing some quick math.

“Okay, here’s the deal. You go in there right now and give him one ‘blow job’ and I’ll give you back one year of your life.”

“What!?!” Paula asked.

“Mrs. Peters, this is my final offer. Tit for tat. You want to be younger, you suck your husband’s cock and bring him to orgasm and you are magically one year younger.”

“Are you kidding me?” she asked.

“I am not kidding you. Trust me, Mrs. Peters. I would never lie.”

“How? How do I become younger? Where do the years go? I mean, where do they come from?”

“VERY GOOD question Mrs. Peters. They’ll come from Mr. Peters’ peter.”

“What do you mean?”

“The life force is siphoned from him directly. As you grow younger he will grow older in equal measure. If you are a year younger, he’ll be a year older. If you are two years younger, he’ll be two years older. And so forth. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

Paula Peters’ eyes went wide for a moment. There was a white flash of light that filled the garage then as mysteriously as he had appeared, the Tyke was gone. She rubbed her sleepy eyes and rolled the thought over in her mind. What if this was for real? But how could it be? Maybe she was just hallucinating from her fatigue. They say the mind is always the first to go. She looked at the horrible letter sitting on the car seat and wanted to believe it WAS for real. She thought of Annie and felt so old.. she wanted so much to believe that she actually COULD turn back the hands of time. She jammed the letter into her purse and headed into the house.

She entered through the kitchen, setting her purse and car keys down on the counter. As usual fifty eight year old Jimmy Peters was sprawled out asleep on their beer-stained broken down sofa—all six foot one, two hundred pounds of him. The television was playing with the sound off and his one hand was tucked inside his sweatpants. The aged Mrs. Peters was enthralled by the idea, by the mere prospect that maybe she COULD have her wish and turn back her biological clock a bit. All she had to do was suck her husband’s cock for the first time in forty six years of marriage. If she could bring herself to do it. And what might he think if he woke to find her handling his cock… after all those years?

She reached down and pulled her husband’s hand out of his sweatpants ever so gingerly, not wanting to wake him. Jimmy grumbled something and kept on snoozing. She pulled down the waistband of his sweats and pulled out his cock. Even though he’d let himself go otherwise, this one part of him still was in fine shape. She stroked it gently and it wasted no time reaching an 8” erection. Forty six years ago she’d been surprised by her husband’s impressive size but soon after the couple were married Paula discovered that Jimmy’s 8” cock hurt and that his constant craving and pestering for sex was mostly just tiresome. He was left to service himself and Paula pretended not to care or notice that he did so. And did so frequently.

In the years since she’d lost all interest in sex.

Some strange compulsion guided her hand as she squeezed Jimmy’s member tightly, watching it swell. She knelt down on a pillow next to the couch. The pain in her bad knee stabbed through her leg and made her wince. She took her glasses off and laid them on the coffee table then leaned in close to her husband’s slumbering cock, trying to ignore her bad knee and her aching back. His huge gut made getting all the way down to his cock a slight effort, but Paula pushed past it and put her lips to Jimmy’s organ for the first time in her life. Jimmy let out a sigh and Paula eased a few inches of his meat into her mouth and sucked on it. In his half-sleep Jimmy put his hand on Paula’s head and pumped his hips. Then he spoke softly.

“That’s so good baby. Yes…”

Paula worked hard as she sucked and stroked her husband’s dick, her heart pounding in her bony chest. She felt the hand grasp her head more firmly as his cock erupted into her mouth, shooting hot cum onto her tongue and down her throat. Jimmy groaned loudly as his salty semen filled up her senses and burned in her gut like the warmth of the sun. It felt incredible. She let Jimmy’s schlong slide back out of her mouth. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. She felt like she’d just awoke from a good night’s sleep. The pain in her knee faded away. She felt more refreshed than she’d felt in a long long time. Jimmy woke up to find his wife standing over him, his sweat pants pulled down around his knees and his cock standing erect. He felt weak and realized that he had just cum, but he grabbed a pillow and covered himself, thinking Paula had caught him masturbating again.

“Oh, what are you doing home?” he asked feebly.

“It’s morning. It’s the same time I always come home.” Paula answered peering over her bifocals at Jimmy, as she realized that what happened in the car had been no hallucination.

She felt fantastic. Suddenly the urge for another go ‘round seized her and she snatched Jimmy’s pillow from him, letting his cock flop over against his thigh. He reached for the throw pillow but Paula tossed it onto the floor and again she dropped to her knees.

“What are you DOING, Paula?” Jimmy asked with a smile on his startled look on his face.

“Something I should have done years ago Jimmy,” she said calmly as she removed her glasses and took his cock in her hands once again, thinking of the wonderful Mr. Tyke from the garage or the ninth dimension or wherever he came from.

She leaned down and licked Jimmy’s shaft like it was candy. The sight of his rather homely, shapeless sixty four year old wife going down on him was not the prettiest sight he could imagine, so Diamond Jim Peters closed his eyes and thought of that sexy young thing, fifty five year old Annie Abrams. But he was now fiftynine, soon to be sixty year old Jimmy Peters. And his wife was the sixty three, soon to be sixty two year old Mrs. Peters.

Paula thought she could taste the life energy as it churned inside Jimmy’s balls and she sucked and slurped on his shaft with gusto. It was somewhat disgusting to listen to but with Annie in mind, Jimmy laid back and drank in the sloppy head job his kooky old wife was giving him. Soon enough he came again. He looked down at Paula as she had her eyes closed, sucking on his cock in earnest, her mouth a stretched-out O drawing back slowly along the shaft, sucking the last of his cum dry. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Paula smiled back at him as she felt new life surge through her entire body. Jimmy looked out of it, confused.

“This is for all those years of neglect. I want to start making it all up to you dear.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“Jimmy honey, I know what you’ve been doing… and with my friend of all people. Tsk, tsk.”

Jimmy’s eyes flared and he drew back away from his wife, shocked that she’d found him out.

“Did you talk to her??” he asked guiltily.

“I didn’t have to talk to her. I just know. But I don’t care about that”, she said, thinking now only of showing up that two-faced Annie once and for all… and of course putting Jimmy in his place.

“You don’t CARE about that??”

“Jimmy, it’s my fault. I’ve not been a real wife to you. And I want to make up for all of it… while we have time.”

Jimmy didn’t know how excited he was about the idea of making up for lost time with his frumpy old wife. She didn’t hold a candle to Annie no matter how well she sucked his cock, but if it meant he wouldn’t have to spend time in the dog house over it, by all means he was going to let her make it up to him.

Paula didn’t have to wonder. She knew she was easily a couple years younger already. She could feel it. That only meant she was sixty two, still old, but she could certainly feel the improvement and appreciated the shot in the arm. She wanted to go a third time and proceeded to push the skin back and forth on Jimmy’s softened cock. Jimmy had just had two years of his life force sucked out through his pecker in under ten minutes. He felt exhausted, like he was going to pass out, but his possessed wife continued to work on his dong and before he knew it he was erect again and his wife was sucking him off like a woman with something to prove. Seeing this, seeing his wife so supplicating and worshipful of his cock, Jimmy grew further aroused. It took longer this time but soon he could feel himself about to come again. He watched his wife huff and puff on his pole as she stroked it with callused old hands, pumping him hard. The sight was amazing and not a little bizarre to him. When he bucked his hips and shot his load Paula grabbed tight around the base of his cock and sucked even harder as she looked at him. She was radiant now, her face and arms flushed red as she let his cock slither slowly from her mouth. She felt so alive. Again Jimmy collapsed back onto the couch, drained of another year’s worth of life. This time he dozed off. She lifted his meaty arm up and leapt up from the couch and stretched her limbs. She felt like she was bursting with energy. She looked at her reflection in the living room mirror and was pleased at what she saw. She looked exactly like she looked three years earlier, a bit younger, with a little more weight on her, but to Paula’s eyes she just looked YOUNG AGAIN. The dark bags under her eyes were almost gone. The surplus of energy and the excitement of what was happening seized Paula. She paced back and forth nervously, rubbing her palms together with excitement. She bound out into the kitchen for something to drink and dumped out her purse on the counter, looking for the letter again. She wanted to refresh her memory of the painful words her cheating husband had said to her friend and boss. She replaced the letter to the pocket inside her purse as she tossed the other items back in there too. Her driver’s license fell out and she picked it up. The photo was recent, but she looked good she thought. As good as she looked in the mirror. Then she noticed her date of birth; it was three years later than before. According to these numbers she was now only sixty one years old! She opened her husband’s wallet and pulled out his license. Sure enough, his date of birth had been magically rolled back three years. And his photo looked older. Unbelievable.

Paula Peters tapped her finger on the plastic counter, nervous, full of energy. She felt like going out and running around the block, or shouting. What she really wanted to do right now was phone up Annie and tell her all about it but Annie was the one person she WOULDN’T be calling. Not yet anyhow.

She looked at her worthless husband heaped onto the living room couch, his pants still down around his knees.

“You’re not entirely worthless, husband dear” she said softly under her breath.

She felt like she wanted to go back in there right now and suck him off a forth time.

“I gotta get outta here” she thought to herself.

Just then a garbage truck pulled up in front of the house and started emptying the Peters’ trash into the back. Paula darted out the back door with an extra bag of kitchen trash and pranced down the driveway towards the two garbage men with no trace of her former limp.

“Hold it you guys! I’ve got more for you” she said as she hurried down the length of the driveway.

“Good morning Mrs. Peters! Aren’t you looking good today!” the little one said in his usual polite way, but today he actually meant it. She did look good, better than usual anyway… for an old woman.

“Thank you boys. It’s a nice day isn’t it?”

The change was subtle but it was apparent that the usually reserved, quiet old Mrs. Peters with the bum leg was feeling great all of the sudden.

“Sure is Mrs. Peters. Sure is.” The little garbage man said as the big guy jumped back behind the wheel and the truck headed on down the street.

“It sure is.” She said as she watched the garbage truck drive away.

“A nice day for Mrs. Peters?” She heard the Tyke’s voice behind her.

She spun around to see the little guy standing there in broad daylight, leaning on his cane.

Paula Peters rushed over and instinctively gathered the little man up in her grandmotherly arms and hugged him tightly. She forgot about the protective force field this time but it didn’t matter. The Tyke giggled as he slipped free of her hug, disappearing and reappearing a few feet away.

“Please Mrs. Peters. Not here in broad daylight.” He said as he righted himself, dusting his rumpled lapels with his pink handkerchief and curling his moustache between his thumb and forefinger.

“Are we feeling any younger yet, Mrs. Peters?” the Tyke asked knowingly.

“Oh, I’m sorry I doubted you Mr. Tyke. Truly sorry.” She reached out and shook his hand.

“Quite alright Mrs. Peters. Quite alright.”

The two stood there and looked each other up and down momentarily.

Paula Peters scratched her gut and laughed chuckled to herself.

“Well tell me Paula, what is the old bum doing now?”

Paula turned over her shoulders and looked toward the house.

“He’s sleeping it off I guess.”

When she turned back toward the Tyke he was gone. She looked at the house and knew what she wanted to do. The only thing there WAS to do; go in there and go to work on her husband’s cock again.

She quietly padded across the kitchen floor so as not to wake her husband. Soon she had her mouth wrapped around his tool and was sucking him off while he slept. What followed was a couple of hours of feverish relentless sucking and squeezing and stroking on Jimmy’s 8” pole while Jimmy drifted in and out (mostly out) of consciousness. When he could feel himself about to cum and would realize that his wife was still sucking him off he only just managed to pry his eyelids open before another orgasm crashed and he was sent drifting even deeper off into his drunken slumber once again. Paula had his life tap opened up and was letting his life gush forth, into her. By noon Jimmy was unable to get it up and needed rest. But in that short time Paula Peters was able to get Jimmy off a total of seven more times. When she finally stood up to take a break she felt like a different woman.

She was keeping careful track in her head and surmised that she was now a woman of fifty four!

And her temporarily out-of-commission husband was… sixty eight ?!?!

As she ran her hand up and down her arms, feeling the lifeblood surging through her limbs she looked down at her unconscious husband. He looked drained, he looked disheveled and exhausted. His hair had only been gray around the temples but now it was completely gray. The sight was disturbing to Paula.

“Oh my god, what have I done?” she said aloud, with a voice that sounded clearer, stronger, younger. She thought she might throw up and ran into the hall bathroom. She leaned on the sink and looked at herself in the mirror while the nausea faded. She looked so young. Even though she still looked every bit of fifty four, and even though she would never perhaps be as pretty as Annie Abrams, now she was at least YOUNGER than her back-stabbing friend. She struggled with the strange fact of life in her mind but she could feel how real it was… in every sinew of her body she could FEEL it. She admired the smoother texture of the skin on her face and on her body. She had some of her color back, but she also was getting some of her old figure back as she’d begun to revert to her formerly rather plump self. Only six hours ago she’d felt wretched, like a sexless bag. But now as she looked at her old hips and thighs in the mirror she felt womanly again. She drew her arms together an found that her former sagging flat deflated breasts were fuller. Her face was definitely not what you’d call pretty but she thought she looked great. She reached up and took one of her wrinkled nipples in her hand and squeezed it. She was rewarded with a warm feeling that surged through her body, tingling all the way down to her long dormant pussy.

For the first time in a very long time she felt a moisture come on between her legs. All she could think about was Jimmy’s cock and the taste of more semen.

She went back out into the living room and dropped down heavily onto her knees again and went back to work slurping and squeezing on her sleeping husband’s penis. After awhile he got hard again and once again Paula lovingly and patiently sucked on her man’s large prick, pumping it until it sputtered his jism reflexively into her mouth. And with each orgasm another year was stolen from Jimmy Peters. By late afternoon Paula had relieved her cheating husband of two more precious years of life. She was now fifty two and he was all of seventy. And he looked it. And Paula felt no remorse this time. She was now approaching her former two hundred pound mark while her ‘old man’ wasted away beneath her. She’d always been older than Jimmy by six years. By sleeping with her only friend in the world he had let Paula know loud and clear that she was finally too old.

But now for the first time HE was older than HER; by a good eighteen years! Almost a generation separated the husband and wife now. She looked at him like she didn’t know him. The man lay sprawled in the blankets on her couch was an old man. His cock was soft now and laying limp between his thighs. Paula instinctively reached for it and again started to minister to it, coaxing it to another erection. Jimmy let out an unconscious sigh as once again Paula took his member into her mouth and started sucking. Paula felt so sexy as she pressed her flesh up against Jimmy’s sleeping body, especially when she brushed her nipples against his chest. She’d forgotten how sensitive her nipples once were. But it was coming back to her now—in spades! She pressed herself up against him and felt her breasts swell up between their bodies. She remembered her bra size back when she was at her largest; a 40”DD cup. Jimmy never pursued her like he did back in those days when she just so happened to feel the least appealing and the most ashamed of her body. By the time she was fifty two Paula Peters would want nothing to do with him. The way she felt this time though, she was only too eager to suck him all day and all night. What a difference. The feel of her tingling flesh was exciting to her and she was feeling eager to make up for all the love play SHE’D missed out on over the years.

She redoubled her efforts and sucked hungrily with longer more sensuous strokes of her fuller lips, trying to get her old man to cum again. For over an hour she tried until in frustration she asked under her breath. “Come on. Why won’t you cum?”

She saw a flash of light in the kitchen and then the Tyke walked into the room with a long face. “I’m afraid he’s not the man he used to be Mrs. Peters. Not the man he used to be. Perhaps you should let him get his rest.”

Determined to finish Jimmy off, obsessed frankly, Paula Peters shamelessly peeled off her uncomfortably tight pants and rubbed her voluminous ass. Her pussy was soaked she was ready to do anything to get him off. She threw one plump leg over Jimmy’s immobile body and slowly eased his cock into her moist slit. It slid in very easily and felt fantastic.

“I’ll leave you to your work. Sorry for the interruption Mrs. Peters” the Tyke said as he tipped his hat and disappeared.

Jimmy let out a sigh as Paula increased her gyrating movements on his engorged cock. He was waking up. When he looked up at the woman on top of him he was shocked. He recognized his wife—as he knew her 12 years prior—bouncing up and down on his cock, fucking him like a wild animal while her flesh jiggled like a mountain of Jell-O. Her expansive ass bounced softly against the tops of his thighs. Her chubby thighs jiggled as they slammed against hips. Her flabby arms wobbled. He was swallowed in warm rosy colored flesh and it felt fantastic.

“Oh baby. What’s happened to you?” he asked.

Paula looked down at the frail, ashen old man underneath her staring directly at her droopy DD cup tits as they swung free beneath her, brushing close by his face. She leaned down and let her soft boobs drag across his nose, bouncing them up and down as he desperately tried to get one of her plump nipples into his mouth.

“Do you like how I look, honey?” she asked.

Jimmy was right on the edge.

“You look great. But I don’t understand.”

Paula kept pumping her hips, on the verge of her own orgasm.

“Just let me know before you cum, dear. I like to take you in my mouth.” She said as she leaned down and kissed Jimmy on the lips, kissing him until he was gasping for air.

“I’ll let you know.” He gasped.

But he didn’t come and after another ten minutes Paula exploded with her first orgasm in years. She kept riding Jimmy’s cock throughout three orgasms before she collapsed down on top of Jimmy, pressing her floppy boobs against his cheeks.

“Do you think you’re going to come again?” she puffed as she jammed her tongue into the old man’s ear. Suddenly his hips bucked and he started pumping weakly.

“Oh yea… Yes. I think I’m coming.”

Paula practically jumped up and spun around to face Jimmy’s cock head on. She pumped it with both hands while Jimmy writhed beneath her. But nothing came out.

“Come on, Jimmy. Come on!” she demanded.

Jimmy grunted and puffed, trying to cum while his fat wife sat astride him, her dripping snatch hovering near his chin while her huge jiggling ass loomed overhead. Slowly Paula eased herself down onto Jimmy’s face, smothering him with her slippery pussy and her overlarge ass while she proceeded to suck on his cock with long strokes, taking him deep into her throat. He was lost in the delicious feelings. Finally something welled up from deep in his reserve tanks and Paula found herself sucking down his salty semen once again like a starved woman, a woman hungry for another year of life, another sweet taste of youth.

When she got up from the couch Jimmy was unconscious once again and it was after six in the evening. She was now fifty one years young! Her loving husband—now that he’d been serviced by her over dozen times in one day—was now seventy one years old and he looked every bit of it. All those years of drinking had certainly taken their toll on him, but now Paula had taken an even larger toll on him.

As she thought back to the letter in her purse she felt no remorse. She phoned Annie and told her she wouldn’t be in to work tomorrow night; she’d be staying home with HER husband. She left it at that and knew that Annie would realize that she knew her husband’s big secret.

Jimmy slept through the night and most of the next day before he awoke again and regained full consciousness. When he did he was confused to say the least. The first thing he saw when he woke up was Paula staring back at him, dressed in white bra and panties with a bath robe wrapped around her. She was an impressive figure of a woman at nearly 220 pounds, her bosom perfectly filling her old 40” DD bra which she’d dug out of her dresser, her fat ass escaping easily from her extra large panties.

Jimmy tried to speak but he felt so weak, even after a day and a half of sleep.

Paula stepped forward and teasingly disrobed, slowly losing the house coat as she came over next to where he lay, her large body moving sexily with every soft step she took. She bent at the knee and let her tits hang down between her arms and showed Jimmy some cleavage he’d not seen in a long time. His eyes went wide.

“What’s going on? What day is it?” he asked.

“It’s tomorrow, honey.” She answered as she pushed him aside to make room for herself next to him on the old couch. The springs groaned under her added weight.

“Yesterday was the day I vowed to make up with you, remember?” It came back to him now. Sort of. He felt like he hung over and disoriented.

Paula leaned forward and put her hand on Jimmy’s wrinkled forehead.

“You feel cold as a fish.”

She touched his glands and felt the pulse in his neck.

“And your pulse is slow. We need to get your blood flowing, honey.”

“What’s wrong with me?” Jimmy asked with a dry whistle in his voice.

“Never mind about that. I’ll take care of you” the pleasingly plump Paula said with sexy eyes as she put her lips to Jimmy’s erect cock and started sucking.

Jimmy couldn’t it. Was his life somehow flashing before his eyes? It seemed so as his voluptuous wife rubbed herself against him and sucked on his cock. Just like he’d always wanted her to back when he used to chase her. He gazed hungrily at Paula’s wobbling tits as they spilled out around the confines of her bra while she pumped her chubby arms, stroking Jimmy’s cock. His pulse was quickening now and he could feel himself about to cum. Paula’s weight pressed down on him, crushing him. He was wasted away to under one hundred seventy pounds by now while his wife felt like she weighed a ton. Soon he came. Paula sucked expertly on his cock, draining his balls with her strong suction until she was fifty and looking forward to living the first half of her life over again, in reverse. She was intoxicated by the surge of energy and youth she was feeling and she wanted more. A lot more.

“Wake up, Jimmy. Wake up.” She kicked her husband with her knee, trying to stir him.

Seventy two year old Jimmy fared less well. The strain was too much on his weakened heart and as a result he suffered a mild heart attack.

“Why do you have to fall asleep every time?!?” Paula demanded to know.

She was ready to go again, ready for forty nine.

Just then the Tyke appeared in the shabby old living room.

“Mrs. Peters, your husband has suffered a heart attack. I have taken the liberty of calling the hospital for you.”

With that he vanished once again just as the ambulance sirens announced themselves in front of Paula Peters’ house. The medics pounded on the front door. Paula threw her bathroom back on over her bra and panties, making herself decent.

CHAPTER TWO

* Thump! Thump! Thump! *

“Hello?!?! Miss Peters?!!”

Paula opened the door.

“Hi there… I’m Mrs. Peters.”

The medics trotted in to tend to Jimmy Peters while one young man of about 38 stopped to speak with Paula.

“Are you Mr. Peters’ daughter?”

“No I’m his wife. I mean… yeah, I’m his daughter.”

“And how old is your father here?” The serious medic asked as he jotted notes onto a clipboard.

“Seventy two. He’s seventy two today.”

“He’s getting up there, huh.”

“Yeah, he’s getting older every day.” Paula said as she made eye contact with the handsome young man. She pulled the neck open slightly on her bathrobe and pretended to itch a scratch on her collarbone, exposing her white bra strap and a generous portion of cleavage to the handsome stranger standing in her living room.

“Uh, right Mrs. Peters.” The well built man said as he turned his attention to his clipboard once again.

“But that doesn’t mean we ALL have to get older, does it.” She said as she brushed her dimpled knee against the young man’s leg and placed one plump hand on his shoulder, trying to get his gaze to meet hers again.

“Whatever you say Mrs. Peters.” The man said as the medics hauled Jimmy Peters out to the ambulance. He looked up to see Paula Peters licking her lips suggestively. Her hand slipped down from the man’s shoulder to his belt which she used to pull him close to her.

“Do you have to leave with them?” she asked with a coy wink and a smile.

The medic realized what this woman was proposing and backed away with an amused look on his face. He wanted no part of it.

“Uh, yeah lady. I have to leave with them.” He said as backed away across the front yard.

When he got back to the ambulance Paula overheard the medics joking. She heard one of them say, “Dude why didn’t you go for it? The ugly old cow wanted you!”

He answered, “I know. I know. It’s sad.”

“I think ’pathetic’ is more like it. I mean, put some clothes on already.”

As the ambulance drove off Paula stared at herself in the living room mirror. The young man’s words rang in her ear.

“The ugly old cow… sad… pathetic”

Suddenly Paula Peters didn’t feel so great. She still felt aroused by the thought of the young thirty eight year old medic, wondering what his cock would’ve been like and pouted at the thought that she couldn’t have it. Until now she’d felt so alive and young and bounding with energy. But the woman looking back at her from the mirror was fifty years OLD. A fat old dame in a dirty old house coat with graying hair who’d just humiliated herself in front of five strange men. She felt tired and lowdown for the first time in two days. Reverting to her old ways, she took a gallon of ice cream out of the fridge and padded out onto the sofa and plopped down. She fiddled with the yellow receipt the medic left for her father. She thought she should probably go down to the hospital sooner or later but she just flicked on the TV and started feeling sorry for herself like she never had before. As she watched the ads flickering in front of her eyes all the women looked so young, so thin, beautiful without exception. Two days ago she was a contented tired old woman, resigned to her lot in life, who hadn’t had a sexual urge or even given a second thought to her appearance in decades. After a lifetime of being denied and suppressed Paula Peters’ vanity was roiling up to the surface. Now as she sat feeding her face with chocolate ice cream she clutched at her fat and obsessed about her appearance, her face, her weight, her age. She lingered on the ads for exercise machines and felt her self-esteem plummet even further. Although she’d managed to push Annie’s and Jimmy’s tryst out of her mind, she was now more miserable than before. She wrapped and swaddled herself in self-pity. She thought about her forties, remembering herself before she’d gained all this weight. If she could only get ten years younger she’d be back to her original steady weight of 120. Maybe that would be young enough for her to attract another middle aged man and she could start over, find a new husband.

“ugly… old … pathetic…”

The words burned her as they reverberated in her head. She ate more ice cream and turned up the volume on the television.

A week after the heart attack, Jimmy Peters was back home, but the heart attack had left him paralyzed from the neck down. Doctors ordered him to get plenty of rest and specified that he not be moved or disturbed for another week. After that they would reassess his condition. But it meant from now on he’d be confined to a bed. The hospital left Paula some brochures from various nursing homes in the area, recommending that she consider putting “her father” in a place where he could receive the medical attention he would now require.

The first night he was home, Paula was at his bedside dressed in a T-shirt and stretch shorts, massaging his soft penis, trying to get a response from it. Jimmy was conscious laying in his metal bed but he was unable to move or speak. The sight of his younger wife’s bosom and ass straining against her tight clothing caused his pulse to quicken. His heartbeat felt like a hammer in his chest and was quite painful.

“I know the doctor said not to disturb you honey but I have to know if this thing still works.”

Slowly Jimmy’s withered member started to swell as the blood flowed into it. His heart pounded harder.

“Does that feel good honey?” she asked hopefully. The only part of Jimmy that she still related to was his erect cock. The rest of him only looked like a disabled old man to her. Jimmy whimpered softly as his cock deflated for the last time. He couldn’t keep it up anymore. He drifted off to sleep.

“Looks like it’s the nursing home for you.” Paula said as she pulled a thin blanket up over her useless husband.

Three weeks after Jimmy had been hauled off to the nursing home Paula still hadn’t heard back from the Tyke. She tried repeatedly to summon him but she’d been unsuccessful in every attempt. Meanwhile, posing as Mrs. Peters’ daughter in from out of town, she began to work on the garbage men, the mailman, whoever would come to the house and interrupt her routine of ice cream, daytime TV and chronic depression. It hurt when she realized they all were avoiding her. None of these men who had once been so friendly to old Mrs. Peters found her “daughter” the least bit attractive.

She’d by now told off her old friend Annie and quit her job with Tempo. She was living off the money she’d managed to save for her knee operation, which she no longer needed. The more she watched TV the more she was convinced that snagging a man was the answer to her problems. She didn’t know if the magic would work on a man other than Jimmy but she had to find out sooner or later. And if it wouldn’t work, she at least needed to find a man to love her and take care of her and support her. She’d been out of the dating game since age eighteen and it had been that long since she had to worry about her looks or her ability to attract a man. Last time she was fifty and fat as a pig she was already married to a man with a good income. This time she was left to her own devices and it wasn’t going very well.

“Why aren’t I prettier?” she wondered aloud.

With that the Tyke reappeared before Paula Peters in a flash of white light.

“Good afternoon Mrs. Peters. And that’s a VERY good question. Finally.” He said with a tip of his hat.

Paula rose to her feet with some difficulty.

“Where’ve you been?”

“Dumb question Mrs. Peters. But, since you ask… I was right here the whole time. Watching you. Waiting. We still have a deal you and I.”

“Jimmy’s gone. He can’t… you know…”

“I know about Mr. Peters. And I know about your unsuccessful attempts to find another man. And I take it you are quite, shall we say… unsatisfied?”

“Can I grow younger with… with another man, like I did with Jimmy?” she asked.

“It’s possible.”

“If I ask you?”

“Our deal stands.” He said with as he tugged on his coat sleeves.

“I want to be… I mean, will you make me younger? And PRETTIER this time too?”

“What’s this?” he asked with a note of mock surprise.

Paula nodded.

“Yes, I can. But you have to do something for me.”

“For you?” she asked.

“Well no, not for me. For you. Shall we renegotiate our terms, eh?”

“Sure!”

“Alright then, the terms of the deal it shall be. Let’s see, can I ask YOU a personal question Mrs. Peters?” he asked.

“Of course Mr. Tyke.”

“Mrs. Peters, did you ever have sex with anyone other than your husband?”

“But…” she started to say.

“It’s okay Mrs. Peters. You can tell me.” The Tyke said with a smile.

“No, I never did.” She said with a note of shame in her voice.

“So what you lack is EXPERIENCE. So then, Mrs. Peters, you shall be younger and prettier but here are the new terms; you’ll receive one year of life for every… let us say TEN blowjobs. And I’ll throw in the beautification for free. Every time you perform oral sex on a man, ANY MAN, you’ll grow slightly more ‘pretty’, pursuant to whatever visage you term to be… ideal.”

“But Mr. Tyke… why…??”

“WHY SO MANY? Good question Mrs. Peters. It’s a simple matter of energy and mass. The stronger and younger the body becomes, the more ‘nourishment’ it requires. Trust me on this Mrs. Peters.”

“What do I get for just one blow job?” she asked.

“Like I said, you’ll grow slightly more pretty. But the age regression is handled in yearly increments, like a ‘balloon payment’ Mrs. Peters. Nine blow jobs gets you nothing. And mind you, for every year you regress, your husband will still be aged in equal measure, according to our previous deal.”

The Tyke rocked on his heels, both hands in his front pockets jingling some loose change.

“Okay. I understand. But how… how will I meet a man?” she asked impatiently.

“Mrs. Peters, you have but to leave your house and go out into the world. There is a man out there for every woman. Many fish in the sea. You only need to look.”

“But look at me, I’m old and fat… and ugly.”

“Oh, Mrs. Peters. You disappoint me.” He said.

Suddenly Paula Peters found herself pushing Mr. Tyke in an empty shopping cart down the aisle of her neighborhood supermarket. She was wearing tight pink spandex Capri pants and a flowered blouse that was tied in a knot below her bust and unbuttoned enough to show her cleavage. Her blubbery mid-drift bulged out over her waistband. Her dark hair was piled up on her head tied back with a matching scarf. She’d never dressed like this in her life and she felt ridiculous.

The Tyke shot Paula a look, winked and tipped his hat, “Looking good Mrs. Peters!”

“Mr. Tyke, I feel ridiculous. Where are we??”

Just then her cart slammed into another cart. The Tyke vanished and Paula saw Karl McDonald, forty eight year old balding paunchy self-employed eligible bachelor plumber. His cart was empty too.

“Oh excuse me ma’am. I didn’t see you there.” He apologized for crashing into her and flashed his best smile.

Just as the Tyke had promised, there WAS a man out there for every woman. Or so she hoped. This man was NO woman’s ideal man, but he was already making the first move and she went along with it, willing to see where things might lead. Until she could roll back the clock a few more years this man might be the best she could do.

“That’s okay. I can’t even remember what I came in here for.” She said as she scratched her chest and pulled her shirt collar a bit open for this man to get a look at some cleavage.

“Me neither” Karl McDonald said as he looked right where she wanted him to look.

“My name’s Paula. Paula Peters.” She extended her hand in friendship.

“I’m Karl McDonald. Owner of McDonald’s Plumbing down the street here. I just closed up the shop and I came in here for something on my way home but I’ll be damned if I can remember what it was.” He squeezed her hand.

“Oh yeah, McDonald’s Plumbing. I think I’ve heard of them.” She lied, trying to inflate his ego a bit.

“A bottle of wine!” he exclaimed.

“I’m sorry?” she asked.

“I came in here for a bottle of wine. Could you help me choose one??”

Two hours later the odd couple had fumbled their way through dinner and drinks at the Red Lobster across the road from the supermarket. Paula was feeling a little tipsy for the first time in a long time and Karl McDonald was starting to look good to her. She sadly reminded herself that she was still no prize in the looks department. She found herself warming up to the forty eight year old plumber. She was especially impressed with his red convertible 1978 Corvette Stingray even though she could barely squeeze into the bucket seats. She let this relative stranger talk her into coming to his apartment for a glass of wine. She found herself thinking that with any luck she’d be in his pants before the night was through.

Once inside his apartment Karl McDonald poured Paula a glass of cheap white wine, which she didn’t drink much of. While he polished off the rest of the bottle Paula paced herself, waiting for him to make a move on her. She didn’t want to scare this one away like she had the garbage men and the mailman.

“Has anyone ever told… urp! …told you that you are an incredibly sexy woman Miss Peters?” the drunken Karl asked Paula.

She knew she had to be the first person to set foot inside this bachelor pad in a long time and she knew it had to be the booze talking, but when she saw the slight bulge in the front of his pants Paula didn’t care what sweet little lies he wanted to tell her. She took his hand and pulled him down to sit next to her on the couch.

“I think you’re exaggerating just a little bit Mr. McDonald. Not too much, but just a little bit.” She smiled.

With his beer goggles on Paula looked ravishing to him.

“I think you’re just… incredible.” He said as he collapsed onto the couch next to here.

He leaned forward and Paula gave the strange man an awkward kiss that lasted only a moment or two. She felt his hand slip around her chubby waist and under the hem of her blouse. She had to remind herself that less than a month ago she had been a sixty four year old crone. Karl McDonald might not be Burt Reynolds—or even Jimmy Peters for that matter—but for all intents and purposes he WAS sixteen years her junior. And at 5’10” and a hundred eighty pounds he wasn’t too shabby. She let his strong working man’s fingers roam under her blouse and up her back where he wasted no time in trying to unhook her 40”DD bra. He forcefully pressed against her, pushing her back against the sofa cushions as he loosened the straps on Paula’s brassiere. Finally his hand slipped underneath her cups and squeezed her right nipple. She let out a soft moan while the balding man kissed her neck.

“Mmmm, that feels good.” She said as she snaked one plump arm around his waist and pulled him on top of her.

She felt his erection through his slacks as it pressed up against her thighs. As the clumsy Karl kissed Paula and roughly felt up her titties she pulled on his belt, undoing the buckle and the buttons of his work pants. Soon she had his cock in her hand and was stroking it. Karl almost immediately started to twitch and moan like he was ready to cum. Paula pushed him back onto the sofa with a strong arm and bent down and kissed the head of his average sized cock. With no trouble at all the hungry woman was able to get the entire length of the man’s member in her mouth and in no time she had him on the brink of his first orgasm.

One of many yet to cum.

After bringing him off Paula licked her lips and snuggled up close to Karl. She unbuttoned her blouse and threw it on the floor and finished removing Karl’s pants. The aging bachelor couldn’t believe his good fortune. He stretched out like a great Casanova and let his lady peel off his clothes. Watching her as she peeled off her own pants Karl’s cock swelled again until he had another erection. Smiling down at him Paula threw a heavy leg across Karl’s waist and sat in his lap, maneuvering his erection into the slippery confines of her unweildy twat.

“Paula, you feel so good.” He said to the woman straddling his pole. She smiled at him lustily. She was looking better to him all the time.

“Will you promise me one thing, lover?” She leaned over and switched off the lights then whispered in his ear as she begun to rock her hips in rhythm.

“Anything.” He answered back.

“Tell me when you’re going to cum. I like to take you in my mouth.”

Karl was only too happy to oblige and in no time he was on the verge of his second premature ejaculation, which Paula slurped up hungrily in the dark. By midnight Paula had managed to milk her new lover well over ten times. In fact she’d lost count at around seventeen. As the moon shone in through the window she lay next to Karl, her breasts draped around his cock, her heart racing as she waited for it to stiffen for another go round. She could feel the life force again radiating throughout her body. Her sweaty body was felt hot pressed up against Karl. He felt a chill and clung to her for warmth. She licked her lips in the dark, her body pulsing with desire. She was no longer the old Mrs. Peters.

“I think we’re setting a record tonight, lover. I’ve lost track of how many times you’ve come.”

“Twenty nine.” Karl heaved a weak sigh of exhaustion.

He had no idea why or how he’d been able to keep going but he wasn’t complaining. His heart was racing. He felt utterly drained of energy. The number of orgasms was overwhelming enough but the fantastic intensity of each one was like nothing he’d ever experienced. The twenty ninth orgasm nearly caused him to pass out. He had grave doubts whether he could make it through even one more orgasm when Paula grew impatient and again started to slide his penis between her sweaty breasts. She raised a hand to her face and felt her nose, her cheeks, her lips. Her skin felt so smooth. She bent over and took Karl’s cock into her mouth one more time before letting him fall asleep for the night.

“I love you Paula…” the now fifty one year old, balder, paunchier bachelor whispered as he stroked forty eight year old Paula’s silky hair to reach another orgasm.

Paula smiled and almost said “I love you” back to him but instead quietly returned to his cock, sucking it to the back of her throat. She looked up at grateful lonely man gazing back at her. Karl saw her round face in the soft moonlight and she looked pretty to him, the loveliest sight he’d ever seen. Soon Karl reached orgasm number thirty, drifting off to sleep at the at the age of fifty two while another year of his life spurted into Paula’s mouth. The now forty seven year old Paula stood up in the darkened room and reached her hands toward the ceiling, stretching like a cat, channeling the wonderful energy that flowed through her system. In the moonlight she smoothed her hands down over her hips and ass. They felt smaller, tighter. She was still very plump, but not the two hundred twenty pound mass of blubber that had come to visit hours earlier. Suddenly she was more like one sixty. She ran into Karl’s bathroom. She groped around in the dark and found the light switch. The floor of the bathroom was littered with well-used copies of Playboy magazine and various bottles of lotion, but she ignored them. She looked into the mirror at her new face which was framed by thick silky brown hair. Her jaw dropped. Maybe she still didn’t look all that pretty by most guys’ standards, but in her own estimation Paula Peters was a completely new woman. She stroked her longer hair, inspecting every subtle line of her new face, noting each small improvement with a swell of pride and satisfaction. The bagginess under her eyes was nearly gone. Her cheeks were still plump but had a rosy glow and a hint of cheekbones was emerging in just the right place. Her old weak chin was beginning to show itself below fuller larger lips. Her nose and the crevices around it were straightening out, forming smoother more graceful lines. Paula bit her lip and giggled to herself, noticing her firmer breasts that weren’t sagging nearly as much as they were earlier, three years ago. They were a bit smaller and Paula herself was a bit smaller all over. She could hardly believe her eyes. Suddenly she had to pee. She sat on the toilet and leafed through Karl’s stash of Playboys. She’d only looked at one once before, back in the ‘70s when she found one Jimmy had left in the trunk of the old Pontiac.

As she thumbed through the magazines she found herself sizing up each and every girl. Their perfect faces and bodies leapt off the page and burned into her. She felt herself getting excited and reached down, inserting a finger into her moist pussy. She was masturbating for the first time ever, looking through Karl’s Playboys as if they were Christmas catalogs and she was picking out her present, picking out a nose here, eyes there, and the perfect pert C cup titties of her youth. She squeezed her own firm D cup breast in her hand as she brought herself to orgasm. Forty seven again and she felt so young. So beautiful. She vowed to from now on ACT young and beautiful, take better care of herself, and be a devoted lover to Karl day and night.

Karl didn’t wake up until almost noon the next day. By that time Paula was anxious to get started on him again. Anxious is putting it mildly. She was about to shake him awake when finally he woke up on his own. He felt like a stretch of bad road, still tired, the life sucked out of him.

“Uunnhgh… what time is it?” he asked groggily.

“Almost noon sleepy head.” Paula was dressed in nothing but one of Karl’s clean workshirts as her own clothes were bagging off her now, especially her bra which seemed a size or two too big.

“It’s about time you woke up… I’m ready to play again.”

Karl looked at Paula. She looked different. Usually on the morning after one of his drunken one night stands the woman staring at him from across the room was a dreadful, disappointing sight. But Paula looked even better to him than she had after four glasses of wine the night before. Gorgeous in fact, at least by HIS usual standards. Paula approached him seductively, the noon day sun streaming in through the living room window. The neighbors would not be able to see him laying on the couch, but they could surely see Paula. Some part of her knew this and didn’t care. She unbuttoned Karl’s shirt one button at a time, slowly exposing her breasts for him to see. Karl was confused. She looked better all over than the huge dame he remembered from yesterday. This Paula curved in as well as out. Her hips were wide but beautifully shaped, flaring from her still pudgy waist out to her perfectly round ass. Her breasts were smaller, but seemed to stand up slightly and had a nice consistent shape where the night before they had been real droopers. Paula slowly swiveled her hips letting Karl get a good long lingering look at her.

The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know; she had this man wrapped around her finger.

Karl was exhausted from the day before, but by mid-afternoon he managed to cum nearly ten times for his sperm-starved sex kitten. In the daylight he got off on watching Paula work on him, she looked so sexy now, almost like the girls from the magazines. As the afternoon passed she seemed to get prettier and sexier before his eyes, which of course she did. By 3pm she was forty six and Karl was fifty three. He felt tired but he was still raring to go. From four to six, while Karl grew exhausted, Paula seemed to have a surge of energy and mostly through her diligence and great effort she sucked Karl off another twenty five times!

At age forty three she paused for a breather, biting her full lower lip as she raked her fingernails through her mane of dark hair. Her face was aglow. At age fifty six Karl was ready to pass out again. It was dinner time and he suggested they stop and send out for a pizza or something. He needed some rest.

“Let me cook for you, lover. What do you have out there for me to work with?”

“Nothing. I don’t have anything in the house.”

She assumed as much. She’d been hanging around Karl’s drab apartment for twenty four hours and what she wanted was to get out while the sun was still in the sky. She thought it might be nice to get herself some new clothes that would fit her new body. The discount strip mall would be open all evening. She pulled on her baggy old Capri pants and put on Karl’s shirt again, tying it in a knot below her unsupported tits, baring her pudgy mid-drift.

“I’ll run to the store for us if you want.” She smiled at him warmly as he lay sprawled out on the couch half asleep. She felt something like love for this sweet man.

“That sounds great. I’ll pay for whatever you want to get. My wallet is there by the door next to my car keys.” He answered.

Karl fell asleep in the time it took Paula to empty his wallet of the entire $460 she found there. (McDonald Plumbing did alright for itself. Either that or Karl kept plenty of twenty dollar bills on hand for his occasional detours in and out of the city’s various strip clubs.) She fired up the engine of his beloved Corvette, backed out of the driveway and sped off down the street. Unfamiliar with the car’s big engine she squealed the tires, leaving skid marks on the pavement in front of his house.

As she made her way toward the mall the forty six year old Paula Peters felt young and free. The roar of the big block engine made the car vibrate and she could feel it right down to her bones. She never felt like this, not at forty six, not at twenty six! When she came to stop at a traffic light she reached over and turned on the radio. It was already set to the Oldies station that Karl always listened to. Petula Clark was playing. The classic ‘Downtown’. When she was a younger woman it had been her favorite song. Jimmy always hated it.

“Downtown… things will be great when you’re Downtown, no finer place for sure… Downtown, everything’s waiting for you…”

The song took her back to the summer of 1965, when Paula Peters was only twenty nine years old. When the light turned green she sped through the intersection, singing aloud. She felt twenty nine again. Thinking of the wad of cash in her shirt pocket and of Karl at home asleep on the couch, Paula turned around at the discount strip mall and decided instead to head downtown, to Edison’s, the big old department store. She could find something to wear there.

As she walked the wide aisles of Edison’s, Paula drank in the sights. It was the first time she’d been in the old department store in many years. The last time she was here it was to buy Jimmy’s mother a birthday gift, over eight years ago. But she hadn’t shopped for clothing here since back in the days when Jimmy was still selling cars and there was some money in the house.

She stood at the end of one of the large oak tables with her head cocked down. Her tangled, unstyled hair hung down in her face as she admired the stacks of different colored cashmere sweaters. She picked up and started petting a particularly beautiful white cashmere sweater when a small woman about her age or possibly older came up.

“Can I help you ma’am?” the short woman said abruptly as she took the sweater from Paula’s hands and refolded it, replacing it on the oak display table.

To the saleswoman, Paula looked like a sight in her bright pink baggy knee pants and dark green men’s work shirt tied in a knot beneath her unsupported boobs. Paula put a hand over her mid-drift and stepped back.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Are we not supposed to touch the clothes??” she asked politely.

“Is there something specific I can help you find honey?” she asked as she went about her business refolding and fluffing other sweaters.

“Um… well I guess there is.” She said as she looked down at herself. She knew she was dressed ridiculously. She pulled down on the workshirt, trying to diminish the sight of her breasts in front of the woman.

The woman disappeared behind a rack of pantyhose. Paula followed after her.

“I mean, I guess I need everything. A whole outfit at least.” She said to the woman’s back.

“I hope that’s not your only outfit hon.” The woman said coldly, convinced that Paula didn’t have a dollar on her.

Paula caught her full reflection in a large mirror and realized she what she looked like. She looked like krazy street woman who stumbled into the store to get warm. She was in her bare feet, which were dirty. Her shirt had grease stains on it and her hair was a ratty nest of tangles from the drive across town in Karl’s convertible.

“Yes. I mean, NO. I mean… the airport lost our luggage. I don’t have a thing to wear. Yeah… but I HAVE MONEY.” She said as the saleslady turned around and took a closer look at this poor woman.

“You really don’t have a thing to wear. Even lost your shoes!”

She handed Paula a paper towel and a bottle of window cleaner so she could clean off her black feet. “Here you go dear. Clean up those feet. We’ll start from the ground up.”

As Paula cleaned her feet off, the woman observed her. “Do you need a brassiere, dear?”

A custom fitting revealed that Paula needed a 38” D bra. And she spent a good half hour trying on the various bras that the saleslady patiently brought to her.

“Honey that’s some figure you’ve got there.” The woman said as she saw Paula’s long legs, wide flaring hips, round ass and perfect D cup breasts standing up on her chest. She was a bit overweight certainly but in a voluptuous kind of way.

Paula raked out her ratty hair with her fingers and looked at herself in a full length mirror, thanking the kind woman.

“Can I ask how tall you are?” the saleswoman asked as she brought out an assortment of hose and garters for Paula to try on.

“Five foot four!” she shouted through the fitting room curtain.

“Very funny ma’am. If you’re five four then I’m four foot five.” She quipped.

Paula emerged from the fitting room curtains in panties and a white push-up Wonderbra she’d asked to see. Her D cup breasts swelled out of the cups suggestively, forming a generous line of cleavage.

She looked down at the shorter saleswoman and politely asked “Why? How tall are YOU if I might ask?”

“An even five foot last time I checked. Not bad for an old woman.”

Paula just realized she was taller, much taller than she was before.

“What are you? Five nine? Five ten??” the woman asked as she pulled out a pair of silk stockings for Paula to try on.

“Ummm, yeah, about that I guess. You’re not an old woman.” She answered back.

“Well let’s measure you while we’ve got you in here. And thank you, that’s kind of you to say but I’m fifty one and not getting any younger. Just wait till you’re my age and we’ll see who’s old.”

Paula did some quick math while the woman reached up to measure her height.

“But I’m forty six…” she didn’t want to repeat the ‘not getting any younger’ bit.

The saleslady stepped two steps back and looked Paula up and down.

“Forty six? Go on. You don’t look a DAY over thirty five honey. You’re one of the lucky ones. You sure do look good for forty six.”

“So how tall am I then?” Paula asked as she looked at herself in the mirror. She felt like a voluptuous beauty from one of Karl’s Playboys.

“Five ELEVEN. Does that sound familiar?”

Paula’s jaw dropped. She was seven inches taller! Her heart swelled with pride. If Annie Abrams could only see her now!

“Yep. That’s right I guess. Five eleven… 38 D. I could stand to lose a few pounds though.” She said with false modesty as she pinched the roll of pudge around her waist, wishing it were gone already.

It was closing time before Paula Peters was done spending most of Karl’s $460. She bought the white cashmere sweater along with the push up bra, panties, stockings and garters that the little old saleswoman had helped her. Then she was handed off to the shoe department where she settled on a pair of sensible white leather open toe shoes with a low one inch heel that put her up to six feet tall. It was the first time she’d worn a pair of shoes with heels in over twenty years and it felt great. That left her just enough to get some makeup, a few bangles and a sexy white leather skirt with matching purse that was marked down to half price. She felt proud of herself for picking up such a bargain as she strutted back out to Karl’s Corvette with six dollars left to buy his dinner with.

She threw her old clothes into a nearby trash can then jumped in and fired up the Corvette again. The radio blasted back on at full volume. Roy Orbison’s classic “Pretty Woman” boomed out of the red sports car, drawing the stares of a small group of people that were still trickling out of the store. Paula turned the volume down a bit and sat in the car, applying her makeup in the rear view mirror. She remembered when she was still a high school girl, when she first put on makeup in her bedroom to the sound of the radio. She checked her lipstick then jammed the gold case back into her white leather purse and started up the engine. She wanted to see Karl again… wanted him to see the new her. She was still the same as when she left him two hours earlier, except now she was dressed to kill and ready for love.

She tried to think what dinner she could rustle up with six bucks but could think of nothing. She drove nearly home before she passed a Taco Bell with a sign hanging by the road that shouted “99 Cent Tacos!” She jerked the wheel and pulled the car into the drive through and ordered up six tacos for Karl’s dinner. She wasn’t particularly hungry but the food smelled good. By the time she got out of the parking lot she had one of the tacos out eating it. She stopped at three, wanting to save half for Karl who HAD sent her out to get him dinner after all. And what would he be getting for his $460? He’d be getting $2.97 worth of cold Taco Bell, if he was lucky. But he’d be getting so much more, Paula reasoned. He’d have her! She didn’t give another thought to the money she’d spent on clothes.

She pulled into the driveway with the radio still pumping out the classic rock. The sound of it woke Karl up. He looked over to the front door and saw Paula step inside, dressed to the nines, clutching a wrinkled little Taco Bell bag to her chest.

“I’m home! A have dinner for you!” she shook the bag and sat it down on the coffee table next to Karl. He’d been sleeping since she left and he didn’t look so good.

“I thought you were going to make supper.” He said as she leaned down and kissed the top of his bald head.

He looked her up and down and was stunned by the sight, her voluptuous hips and ass packed into the tight white leather skirt, wearing the white open necked cashmere sweater. The soft garment stretched to cover her well-supported D cuppers which swelled nicely up out of her new bra’s silk half cups, giving Karl a plain view of her cleavage. Her hair was brushed out now and her face was made up like one of the women in Playboy. She was a knockout. He took the bag of tacos. He was dying of hunger but all he could do was look at Paula.

“Go ahead and eat your dinner honey. I’m going to get a glass of water. You want one?” She leaned over and asked the top of his head as his eyes were glued to her cleavage.

“Sure. I’m thirsty.” Was his reply.

Karl found his supper to be nothing but a pile of crushed tortilla shells , warm lettuce and cold beans but he tried to eat it anyhow. He didn’t care about dinner anymore.

“I’m sorry about the tacos, it’s the only place I could find that was still open around here.” She said as she watched Karl eat the broken bits of taco with his fingers which looked like they were shaking.

“And I sat on the bag accidentally. A few of them got crushed I guess.”

She said as she handed him a large glass of water.

“Here. Drink this down. You look thirsty.”

Karl obediently drank all the water in the glass while Paula stroked his hair with shiny red fingernails. Her mind was on one thing and one thing only—getting busy.

Karl put down his glass as Paula leaned down and kissed him on the mouth. She felt and looked incredible. He reached up and cupped one of her firm breasts in his palm and Paula clenched her teeth and hissed, grinding her large hips against his crotch. Karl was hard already and looking forward to what might come next. Like Jimmy before him, Paula had managed to keep Karl on his back on his sofa for a good twenty four hours. He hadn’t gotten up once. Not even to go to the bathroom. He didn’t realize it but he was about to spend another twenty four hours in that same position.

In no time Paula had her lover’s clothes off and was sucking him off to a quick first orgasm of the evening, not stopping until she soon got him off a second time, and soon after that a third. By the time twenty minutes had passed Karl was breathing hard and was going soft.

“Okay, let’s take a little break.” Paula said as she stepped back and smoothed a hand over her cheek, feeling a slightly more prominent cheekbone.

She was still wearing her new outfit and Karl was still amazed at the sight of her. Every time she sucked his cock she looked better and better to him and he was falling hard for her. One orgasm was more devastating than the last. It was like a dream come true. He couldn’t believe his luck.

Paula tossed her bouncy hair over one shoulder and climbed onto the coffee table and proceeded to dance and gyrate for her lover, intent on doing whatever she could to get him aroused and keep him aroused. And it was working wonders. By the time she had her garters and stockings off she could see his cock come to life. By the time she was down to her bra and panties half a minute later Karl was ready to go again.

“Do you think we can break yesterday’s record, lover?” Paula asked in a soft voice as she straddled Karl and impaled herself on his erect shaft.

“I think we can.” She added.

Karl started pumping his hips in unison with her gyrations.

“It’ll be fun to try.”

When Karl passed out it wasn’t even midnight yet. He fainted just after blow job number thirty when he watched helplessly as another year of his life force flowed through Paula’s body, improving, beautifying and ‘youthifying’ her before his eyes. It was another year he’d not see again. A precious year of life that was now hers to live. The energizing sensation had been the best one yet for Paula, nearly causing her to pass out. A burning heat churned in her stomach and radiated out through every fiber of her body. She stood before an incapacitated Karl and writhed as the wonderful sensations warmed her from head to toe. It was during those moments that the clock was turned back before Karl’s very eyes and he could see Paula’s face shift and change subtly, her hair growing longer and thicker, darkening to a raven black. And all traces of extra body fat were seemingly melting away while he looked on slack-jawed. Afterwards Paula stood there moaning, masturbating herself to an earth-shaking climax of her own. Forty three was the year that a younger Paula Peters had started gaining all the weight. It was the year she packed on nearly forty pounds and it was the last time she ever felt physically attractive. Now she was passing back over that same threshold only this time she was six full feet of woman. And if what the doctors say is right, she was now entering into the peak years of her sexual powers.

By the time that orgasm subsided, Karl was either asleep or had fainted, she didn’t know for sure. But Paula wasted no time going back down on the now fifty six year old Karl’s manhood. She turned off the lights and settled in for a long night of slurping and sucking. She reasoned that it would be increasingly harder for her to get him off from here on out so she redoubled her efforts. Throughout the course of the night Karl would drift in and out of sleep. Paula found it easier to suck him off while he was awake and could see her, but he was steadily coming about ever ten minutes whether asleep or awake. By sunrise Paula had brought him off over seventy times, turning back the clock another seven years. The chore left her exhausted and in need of sleep so around 6am she fell asleep next to Karl on the sofa, wearing only her silk panties and her cashmere sweater for warmth.

When the morning sun shone in on the couple Paula Peters was, true to the Tyke’s original deal, thirty six years ‘old’. But she looked and felt even younger. Karl McDonald was now sixty two. In two days without leaving his couch he’d skipped forward past fourteen years of his life. He didn’t feel well as he woke up to find Paula Peters lying asleep next to him. He remembered his last image of her the night before, of her growing younger and prettier before his eyes, masturbating herself. He thought back, trying to remember the woman he’d bumped into in the supermarket two days ago. This wasn’t the same woman laying next to him but somehow his memory was fuzzy and he couldn’t remember exactly what she’d looked like or how old she was. He looked down at her now. She barely looked a day over thirty, with perfect skin and hardly any body fat. Her cute round face looked familiar but different. Her features were more prominent, more graceful. Prettier.

He stood up and steadied himself on the arm of the sofa. His legs felt like noodles. Paula kept on sleeping and he looked at her in amazement. Why was she here? What did she see in him??

He walked into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Looking at himself in the mirror he got a horrible shock. Staring back at him was a horribly out of shape shadow of his former self. He wasn’t much to look at in the first place, but now he looked even worse. His hair was almost gone, his cheeks had turned to loose jowls. He was about fifteen pounds thinner at least.

“Am I sick?” he wondered.

While brushing his teeth he knocked loose three teeth as he banged the brush head against the now brittle bone. When he reached in to remove one he felt a front tooth wiggle free and he pulled that one out with his fingers, for a total of four.

“What’s going on??” he asked his gap-toothed reflection.

Just then he felt two long arms reach around him from behind and give him a hug.

“Mmmmm, good morning lover.” Paula said as she kissed the back of Karl’s neck.

He felt her perfectly toned body press against his and rub itself up and down. He turned around to look her in the eye and found himself staring straight into her mouth. Karl was still just under his original five foot ten, although he’d lost a half inch or so as his body settled. But Paula was now six one two in her bare feet. She took the old man in her arms and hugged him like a daughter hugs a father. This man had given her the greatest gift she could ever ask for. She had her youth back. Not an ounce of body fat on her, muscles well-toned, beautiful hair and nails… and her lovely face was scarcely recognizable from what it had been three weeks ago. She looked at her reflection over Karl’s shoulder and admired her newfound beauty. She still recognized herself as herself, but already she was cuter than she ever had been her first time around. Her cheekbones were higher, more prominent and framed her face nicely. Her tired old eyes were now large and clear with long lashes. Her old crooked nose was now almost perfectly straight. Her thin old wrinkled lips replaced by luxurious full pouting lips. As she admired her new reflection she scrutinized it closely. She was already was finding room for improvement. But there was something she could do about that.

“Lover, do you want to take a shower with me?” she asked as she hugged the tired man with her strong arms, being sure to grind her pubic bone against his groin.

She stepped back and pushed the pile of Playboys aside with her foot. She stepped into the shower and bent over to adjust the water. Soon warm jets of water were dancing over her lithe body. Her head peered up over the top of the glass shower door and again she invited Karl to join her.

Karl felt wary for the first time of this beautiful creature who’d crashed his apartment and his life. He stood there staring at her long thin arms and legs as she washed herself. He noticed her breasts were somewhat smaller than last night before. They didn’t hang down as before but stood out proud and firm from her torso like two perfect grapefruits capped by two perfect little nipples. Paula continued to wash herself, shampooing her hair, delighting in the wonderful feel of the hot water splashing against her young skin. But Karl seemed reluctant now to join her. She started massaging her tits, marveling at how firm and perfectly-shaped they were now. She was disappointed that they were a bit smaller but they still were perfect and featured prominently on her thin well-toned body. As she squeezed her nipples she noticed Karl grabbing the towel rack for support. His first erection of the day was coming on.

“Are you getting in or what? The water’s fine, lover.”

Karl shook his head and clutched at the towel as Paula licked her lips seductively, spreading her legs and jamming her hand down to her crotch. She proceeded to finger herself. With her back against the wall she let the water splash across her tits while she spread her lips and fingered herself for Karl’s and her pleasure. She could feel a powerful climax coming on and she braced herself, rattling the shower doors as she held on to the slippery stall. As she closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure Karl escaped to the living room and tried to collect his senses. Something about sex with this woman was draining the life out of him. He knew that now. She was too gorgeous to resist though.

As Paula cried out in ecstasy a bright light flashed and the Tyke appeared in the bathroom. As the steam cleared away Paula saw him and was startled. He was sitting on the toilet. He had his white tuxedo trousers down around his knees, his silver hat in his lap. He was smoking a pipe, inspecting one of the Playboy magazines.

“Good morning Miss Peters. How are we today?”

The thirty six year old lovely grabbed a towel and wrapped it around herself. She stepped out of the shower, surprised how well one small towel covered her. The Tyke vanished then reappeared sitting atop the shower stall door. His pants were back on, hat and moustache and corsage and handkerchief all perfectly back in place. He had a rolled up issue of Playboy tucked under his arm.

“Can’t you give a girl some privacy, Mr. Tyke?” Paula said as she stood dripping water, clutching her towel in front of her.

“I’m sorry Miss Peters. Should I leave?”

“Oh no. Please stay.” She urged.

“Happy with our new improved self are we Miss Peters??” the Tyke asked knowingly.

“Very happy. Very VERY happy.” She answered enthusiastically.

“Have you any questions?”

Paula Peters was thrilled to see her old friend the Tyke but all she could think about right now was finding where Karl had gotten to.

“Where is Karl?” she asked him.

“Karl is sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. It’s taking him a long while to wake up this morning Miss Peters. And he’s beginning to suspect you are the reason he’s feeling and looking so… so much worse.”

Paula rung out her long hair in the bathroom sink and pouted her lips in the mirror, admiring her new face.

“As much as you are feeling and looking so much better Miss Peters, poor Mr. McDonald is feeling and looking every bit as much worse. I’m afraid he can’t keep up this pace much longer.”

“What are you saying?” Paula asked as she shamelessly removed her towel and wrapped her long hair in it. Twisting the towel into a turban and fastening it atop her head she stood before the little green man in nothing but her birthday suit.

“What I’m saying is that you are now at your sexual peak and Mr. McDonald is many many years past his. I can help you and your lover with the frequency of your love making sessions, as you must have noticed by now. But eventually there will be diminishing returns, especially in a situation like this where a life clock has been turned so far ahead in so short a time. In case you haven’t been keeping track, your boyfriend out there is now sixty two, just two years younger than you were when I met you three weeks ago. And now you are a very healthy thirty six years young Miss Peters. Very healthy indeed. Look at yourself. If you push your boyfriend out there much harder he’ll wind up like Mr. Peters, paralyzed and in a nursing home years before his time.”

As she chased away the bothersome thought of Jimmy stretched out on his death bed she pushed the bathroom door aside with her toe and looked at Karl sitting at the kitchen table drinking his coffee. This one looked old too. She rolled it over in her mind; could she get another year or two out of him before she’d have to move on to greener pastures?

As that thought crossed her mind a light flashed behind her and the Playboy magazine fell to the floor by her feet. The Tyke was gone once again. She stood in the doorway biting her thumb seductively, trying to get Karl’s attention. She had no trouble doing that. Standing there framed perfectly by the doorway, naked except for the towel wrapped around her head, Paula Peters looked like a work of art.

“Is there any coffee left for ME?” she asked, as if coffee was what was on her mind.

Without getting up Karl poured her a cup and pushed it across the kitchen table. Paula walked over and raised the cup to her lips and took a sip, all the while sizing up the old man sitting in front of her. Could he still give her what she wanted? What she needed? As she sipped her coffee she made sexy eyes at the sixty two year old man. She felt no attraction to him except for the salty life force she could practically taste on her tongue. He could only stare back, transfixed. Something weak inside him surrendered to Paula, felt like it wanted to reach out to her, to give her whatever he had left to give her. She’d never seen this look in a man’s eyes before, but she recognized it instantly. She lifted her bare foot to Karl’s knee and pushed it aside, spreading his legs. Then she gracefully dropped down to her knees in front of him and smoothed her hands up the insides of Karl’s inner thighs toward his crotch. She licked her lips and winked at him seductively as she unbuttoned his pants, freeing his erection from its confinement. She swooped down and started sucking on Karl’s member like a well-oiled pump, easing him through to five orgasms before he was finally unable to sit up in the chair. Around noon she helped him over to the sofa where she stretched him out and propped up his head. He was conscious but felt drained. But the sight of Paula kept him turned on throughout the afternoon. Paula straddled Karl, positioning her moist pussy directly in front of his face as she worked on his cock for the rest of the day. Karl fought to stay awake, afraid of what might happen to him if he dozed off. And every time his cock would start to go slack Paula would sit on his face, mashing her dripping pussy against his mouth, forcing him to tongue her until—soon enough—he’d be hard again. In this way she played him like a drum and by five o’clock he was hanging by a thread. Paula was stuck on orgasm number ten and it wasn’t cumming. She had been patiently sucking and stroking him for well over an hour and Karl’s cock was beginning to hurt him. She grew frustrated as finally climbed off him and pushed his legs to one side, plopping herself down next to him on the couch.

“What’s the matter with you?” she demanded to know.

“I think I’m tapped out for today honey, that’s all. You’re wearing me out.”

Paula could practically taste that tenth mouthful of cum, the delicious warm sensations that it would bring. She wanted that feeling now and didn’t want to wait another hour or two for it.

“You’re just not trying hard enough.” She snapped.

It was the first time Karl had seen Paula angry in any way. She still looked beautiful although her features seemed more sever now, her cheekbones more prominent again, her eyebrows fuller, mouth slightly larger. She let out a sigh of disgust, puffing out her cheeks. Karl reached out feebly for her arm but she just jerked away from him.

“We can try again after awhile. Okay? I’m sore.” He pleaded.

Paula thought it over. What if she WERE able to get him off one more time and reach thirty five? What then? Could she reasonably expect to get him off ten more times and get her down to age thirty four? “Thirty four”. The number sounded too old to her. She FELT like she was twenty four again. And that’s how old she wanted to be now, not some thirty four year old woman. She wanted to be a twenty two year old young thing again. Maybe she wanted to be nineteen again. Maybe even younger. She realized she’d never even reach thirty at the rate Karl would be performing at from here on out. And the decent part of her hated to see him waste away or lose any more of his life than he already had. If she left him now he could at least enjoy his retirement. She would need to go out and find someone else. Someone younger. Maybe more than one guy would be smart. Certainly a younger guy would be a good idea. She turned back to Karl who looked haggard and spent. He looked up at her with his front tooth missing, completely bald, limbs stringy and thin. Paula mustered a fake smile, as though this was all such a big inconvenience. She just wanted to get out, to leave.

“Tonight’s Friday night. Why don’t we get dinner and maybe stay home and watch a movie?” he asked her with a dry wheezing voice.

She considered this long enough to consider it a waste of precious time. She didn’t care about food or movies and she didn’t care much about ‘looking after’ Karl at this point either.

“Is that what you want? To go out for dinner?” she asked.

“Whatever you want. I just want you to be happy. I feel so tired though, honey. Maybe you could bring dinner home like you did last night.” Karl suggested as he gasped for breath.

He really felt like taking a nap now. If Paula left him alone for an hour he could fall asleep and not worry about anything. Paula just wanted to go. It was Friday night! She shook out her hair and considered her prospects for finding a man… in a bar perhaps, someone she could get that number ten over with in the shortest possible time. Then she’d consider her next move.

“What time is it?” she asked.

The clock on the wall said quarter till six. It was still happy hour in the bars around town. Maybe if she hurried she could find a man, seduce him, suck him off and be back home by early evening. She looked down at Karl who was fast asleep. She reached over and took his flaccid cock in her hand and squeezed it between her fingers. It was shriveled and limp and showed no signs of coming to life. There was no point in coming home later or ever again. It was time to move on. She jumped up and got dressed in her white outfit from Edison’s department store. The 38 D pushup bra that fit her so well the night before was useless now though. She figured she was more like a 36 C at this point, but her tits stood up on their own and she didn’t need a bra. Not tonight anyhow. She pulled the cashmere sweater over her head. It hung looser than before across her chest but felt a bit snug in the shoulders. She slipped on her panties and stockings and hooked her garters then stepped into the white leather skirt. This hung more loosely now around her hips but her ass was still perfectly round and jutted out nicely while her legs were slightly more toned and muscular so she was still able to wear it. As she bent over to put on her white leather heels she felt her nipples brush against the soft cashmere and she felt aroused. She was getting horny. After she brushed out her hair and reapplied her makeup and masturbated her self to a double orgasm, Paula gathered up Karl’s car keys and looked through his wallet for any more money. But of course it was empty. Karl McDonald didn’t have a penny to his name.

He mumbled something in his sleep when Paula started up his Corvette and started backing down the driveway. He figured she’d be back later with tacos for him. But he figured wrong. She was gone for good and was taking his beautiful muscle car with her.

CHAPTER THREE

The sun was setting as Paula pulled into the first bar she found, which was no more than half a mile from Karl’s place on a busy retail strip. It was a local crowd. Mostly office workers from the nearby corporate office parks. She pulled into the lot and parked the flashy red Corvette among all the sensible BMWs and Saabs and Mercedes sedans. When she walked in the door in her white leather skirt and fuzzy tight sweater with the neck gaping open every head seemed to turn in her direction. She looked across the bar and saw nothing but men and women in business suits. To them of course, she looked like a hooker. The women all sneered and said hateful things about her on sight. Paula felt strange, like she was in the wrong place. She walked back outside, suddenly intimidated by the strange surroundings. She retreated back across the parking lot, her pert tits bouncing with every step. What was she going to do. She tried to work up the nerve to turn around and walk back in but it was no use. Just as she approached her car and man came up beside her. He was one of the younger guys from the bar, a thirty year old salesman who came to the bar in hopes of getting laid. He introduced himself and asked Paula where she was ‘getting off to’ in such a hurry. He wanted to ‘talk’ to her.

Paula wasted no time with this stray.

“Where is your car?” she asked.

It’s right here. He beeped his car alarm and unlocked the doors to his black Audi. He and Paula got in and shut the doors. The tan leather bucket seats fit Paula’s plump ass like a glove.

“Mmmmm… this is a nice car you have.”

The stranger retracted the moon roof and smiled over at Paula. She smiled back at him with a wide gleaming toothy grin.

“So, do you want a blow job?” she asked point blank, twisting her hair nervously between her fingers.

Turns out this well-dressed gentleman wasn’t interested in a conversation after all. He unzipped his pants and took out his cock as if on cue. Before he could say another word Paula had her lips clamped around his young prick, sucking it in even expert strokes—like she was a pro. All she wanted was that one load of cum and that would roll her life clock over to thirty five.

The stranger paced himself and held back his orgasm for as long as he could. Paula sucked and slurped on his dick for over twenty minutes and he was still only teetering on the brink. Then he’d think about baseball or something and go soft and Paula would work harder until she had him hard again. She was amazed that he could hold off so long, longer even than Karl at his worst. But the man was only thirty. Young, handsome and respectable.

In his eyes though, Paula Peters was a sorta scary thirty six year old hooker. Some skanky older woman. He was half-scared of getting a disease from his first hooker and truthfully that’s why she had such a time getting him off. But after about a half hour finally this jerk came, shooting a blast of hot spunk into her mouth. Immediately Paula began to surge with new life. The energy bolted through her body as she sat in the front seat of her john’s $34,000 German sports car. The whole situation, the smells of the brand new car, the handsome young business man, all the money surrounding her, it all overwhelmed her senses at once. Her eyes appeared to glaze over. She started to shake and get light-headed. Her head was spinning.

Seeing this woman shaking and freaking out in the seat beside him, the john hurried to pay her and get rid of her.

“How much? How much do you want??”

His words reverberated in her ears with a distant muffled roar. Something strange and new was happening to Paula. She fought to hold herself together.

“I said, how much do you want??”

She heard those words again. She tried to focus her eyes. She thought she could see the Tyke, dressed in his finery and only about 12” tall. He was sitting smiling back at her from atop the car’s dashboard which appeared to be gold-plated. His silver hat was covering his lap and gleamed like chrome.

“Hey are you alright lady? How much is it? How much do you want?”

Paula mumbled something incoherent. The john shook the drooling old whore who didn’t seem able to answer him. Was she having a seizure?

“How much do I want?” Paula thought to herself.

“Good question Miss Peters. JOLLY GOOD question!” the Tyke’s voice answered in her head. She looked at him sitting there on the dash. His left hand disappeared under his hat which bopped up and down in his lap. He didn’t move his lips or even look at her. He just clamped his eyes shut and drew a deep breath while his voice answered hers from whatever dimension she was slipping in and out of at the moment. She looked at the stranger who was frozen like a still photograph, his body was surrounded by a white and golden light, his life energy. Paula looked down at his crotch. His pants were refastened but were covered in pulsating splashes of white light that grew most intense between his legs.

“How much can I get?” She asked silently rephrased the question.

“Even BETTER question my dear sweet Paula. You can get as much as you want. All you have to do is ASK for it.” the Tyke’s voice replied.

“One seventy.” She said aloud, breaking out of the strange trance that had seized her body and mind.

In her quiet reverie she was able to calculate that to reach eighteen years old again would mean another one hundred seventy blow jobs. That’s what she meant when she blurted out one seventy. The john quickly removed two crisp hundred dollar bills from his money clip and tossed it on the seat next to Paula, who was breathing rather heavily, her chest heaving. She was regaining her senses finally.

“Please keep the extra thirty. You earned it. Now please, I think you should leave.” The man said.

Paula took the money without question, sticking it in her white leather purse which she snapped shut with a loud click. She drew her hair back behind her ear and gather herself together. She felt fine again. Great in fact. She opened the door slightly, stepping one foot back out onto the pavement. She looked back over her shoulder at the young man who’d helped her attain another year of youth. He had a confused look on his face. Suddenly she looked good to him again, better than before in fact. This weird prostitute seemed suddenly prettier… and younger.

“What’s the matter?” she asked in a soft voice.

She leaned over and kissed the stranger on the mouth, stroking the gray hair around his temples as she thanked him sweetly. He reached up and cupped her breast in his hand and gave it a squeeze through the soft fabric of her cashmere sweater.

“I’m sorry I took so long.” He said. “Maybe we should go again.”

Paula remembered the long drawn out thirty minute blow job. Suddenly that was unacceptable to her. She wanted more and now she wanted it faster than a half hour at a crack. If she wanted more cum—and for it to cum faster—all she had to do was ask, right?

“Honey I’ve got places to go. I’d like to help you but I am outta here.” She said as she climbed up out of the car. The stranger admired her long legs and curvaceous hips as she turned away and walked back to her own car.

“Can I get your number?? Do you want to see a movie sometime?!?!?” she heard the man shouting as she fired up the engine and fiddled for a radio station.

She tuned out the oldies station and found a modern rock station that was playing Lenny Kravitz’ version of ‘American Woman’. She didn’t know the artist but the music exactly fit her mood and her state of mind; familiar but funkier than the original. She checked her makeup in the review mirror and smacked her lips. Finally she had it figured out. She didn’t need to go driving around town searching blindly for what she needed. All she had to do was ask the right question. She would be able to attain her goal in the time it took to perform one hundred and seventy blow jobs. She stared herself square in the eye and asked the question that was most on her mind, careful to phrase it exactly right so as to not waste any more time.

“Where can I blow a hundred and seventy guys in one night?”

A bright flash of light went of all around the car and suddenly she was cruising slowly down a tree-lined street. There were grand old homes to the left and to the right, all with parties going on. She was at the university campus, driving down fraternity row. It was Greek Week. She drove slowly down the dark street peering into the fraternity houses. In the rear view mirror she caught a glimpse of the Tyke who was sitting atop the back seat of the red convertible holding onto his silver hat so it wouldn’t blow off.

“Smart thinking back there Miss Peters. Bully for you.” He said, tipping his hat to her in the mirror.

She arched a quizzical eyebrow and shot him a knowing look.

“Where can I go right now that there are enough guys that I can suck off one hundred and seventy cocks in one night?” she asked decisively, feeling like she had Mr. Tyke’s game figured out now.

Suddenly the engine went quiet. The Corvette was parked half onto the curb in front of the smallest fraternity, Omega House. Paula was standing on the sidewalk next to the car, slightly disheveled but not a scratch on her. The front fender of the car was bent halfway around a big old tree she apparently had rammed into. Steam blasted and hissed from the busted radiator. She turned toward the frat house and looked through the front window. Inside the house were fifty of the dumbest horniest party animals on fraternity row and from the sounds of things the party was going full tilt. She walked up to the front door and gave a knock. A drunken reveler answered the door.

“I’m here.” Paula said, as though they should’ve been expecting her.

He threw the door wide open and ushered her into the house. A large group of young men could be heard hooting and hollering in the next room over. They were all huddled around towards the back of the room cheering and laughing about something.

“How would you like the best blow job of your life right now?” she asked the distracted young freshman. He looked like a boy still, no older than eighteen.

“Go for it!” he said as he stood there gulping down beer from a plastic cup.

Paula got down on her knees, laid her purse on the carpet next to her and pulled the boy to her. She struggled impatiently with the fly on his jeans.

“You’ve got to pull down these pants, honey. Come on now, I don’t want this to take all night.” She said, slapping the him on his thigh to get his attention.

He seemed distracted by what was going on in the other room but he undid the fly of his jeans and let his cock flop free. Paula stuffed it in her mouth and started sucking. She looked up at him. He was drinking beer and waving at his friends in the room next door. They all disappeared into the crowd when another loud cheer erupted from the back of the room. The boy pushed Paula away with his hand.

“Sorry. That wasn’t the best blow job of my life lady.” He said as he rezipped his fly and lurched off to the other room to rejoin his friends.

Paula couldn’t believe it! She climbed to her feet and snatched her purse back up off the floor. The thirty five year old beauty walked over toward the main room to see what all the excitement was about. Loud music blared from the stereo. She straightened her skirt and her sweater and pulled back her hair, trying to recover from the slight indignity of being shoved away by this post-pubescent kid. She was the oldest person in the room and she felt like telling all these kids to stop jumping around and shouting and be quiet for one minute so she could explain why she’d come. Feeling like a middle-aged chaperone Paula pried her way through the crowd, trying to get to the front of the room where something was going on by the fireplace. When the small mob of fifty young men parted she finally got a view of what was going on. A young blonde who couldn’t have been any more than eighteen herself was on her knees tit-fucking one of the older boys. Her boobs were huge and hung from her tiny little body like two oversized water balloons. Paula couldn’t guess how big she must be but the girl had no trouble wrapping the kid’s rather large cock in overflowing fistsful of soft pillowy flesh. When the kid started to climax she put her lips to his cock head and sucked him off, swallowing every drop of his cum. Christina Aguilera’s song “What A Girl Wants” was blasting at full volume and every guy in the room cheered her on like it was a contest of some kind. As soon as he was finished she motioned for another one to step up and she took his cock between her tits and performed the same operation on him.

“What a girl wants… what a girl needs… whatever makes me happy and sets you free… and I’m thankin’ you for knowin’ exactly what a girl wants…”

“What IS this??” Paula asked in desperation, shouting to be heard over the blaring bubblegum music.

The Tyke appeared in a flash of white light. No one heard or noticed him except for Paula. They were all focused on something much more interesting.

“What does it look like Miss Peters?”

“Who is that girl?” Paula stared transfixed by the sight of the young thing sitting there mashing her huge boobs together for another horny college boy.

“She’s a student from a prep school across town. I am granting her wish tonight too.” He answered proudly.

She started to feel a pang of jealousy towards the Tyke’s other client, who appeared to have an ecstatic, lust-filled expression permanently painted on her face as she swiveled her hips now to Maria Carey’s “Heartbreaker”.

“Miss Peters, that young girl weighed 240 pounds when I met her yesterday. Nice young lady, but ugly as a mud fence. No friends. Face riddled with acne. Moustache. Gigantic hips and ass covered in cellulite. And no tits whatsoever. Thin stringy hair about your color. She was a mess and came to me in a suicidal hour of despair. I took pity on her… like I did you.”

Paula petted her own mane of raven black hair and suddenly wondered if she should bleach it blonde. She watched the naked young thing suck off another contented frat boy, milking him of his load.

“Heartbreaker, you got the best of me. But you just keep on comin’ back incessantly…”

“What did she wish?!?!” Paula asked.

“Obviously what you see here. After a lifetime of rejection and humiliation and shame she simply wanted to be the ultimate object of desire—for one night—to this stupid pack of hormonally-overloaded young men, hence the tiny waist, the big boobs, the platinum blonde hair.”

She looked at the young girl’s face again, she was still smiling, swaying to the music.

The crowd cheered her on as another young stud sprayed her tits with his jiz. The girl smoothed his seed over her tits and licked her fingers clean. The crowd cheered again as she motioned for the next boy, continuing a performance that had been going on exactly like this since early evening.

“And what was the deal?!?” she asked.

“Good question. The deal was not a good one if you ask me. The deal was that I would transform her into what you see here—an insatiable cum-thirsty bimbette—in exchange for… well.. the balance of her entire life. This was a death wish you see. Tis a pity.”

A death wish? Paula looked at the young girl as she sucked another cock until it pumped its load into her mouth. The girl seemed posessed as she passionately slurped and sucked on the erect member. How long could she go on like this? It was her last night on earth and this was how she wanted to go out. Paula could begin to see now and understood this girl’s wish even as she was starting to resent that this young upstart was stealing Paula’s action.

She could smell the cum in the air. She could taste it in her gut. She was getting impatient and was tired of being ignored.

“Get out of the way, lady.” One of the frat boys said. Another one rudely pushed Paula Peters back into the crowd until she couldn’t see the tit-fucking spectacle going on by the fireplace.

“Hit me bay-bee, ONE MORE TIME!!”

The music blared. The crowd cheered. She found herself staring at the back of their heads as the synthesizer blast of Britney Spears’ “…Baby One More Time” rocked the room. She could hardly hear herself think.

“Why did you bring me here!?!?!” she asked the Tyke, who she could no longer see through the crowd. She knew he could hear her though.

“So you could meet your quota Miss Peters… to fulfil YOUR wish… to be YOUNG AGAIN Miss Peters.” The voice rang in her head.

“But these boys don’t want me. They want her.” Paula replied.

The Tyke said nothing back.

“Is it because I’m still too old?!?!” she shouted aloud.

“Thirty five years old. YES MISS PETERS. Too old for this crowd.”

She thought of the young girls’ massive boobs and tiny waist. That was what these boys wanted. That was why she was invisible to them.

“Okay then. Can you give me larger boobs Mr. Tyke?”

“OF COURSE, MISS PETERS.” The voice answered.

She felt a warmth in her C cup tits as they began to swell, growing slowly larger and heavier inside her fuzzy cashmere sweater. She dropped her purse onto the floor in front of her as her hands shot up to clutch her breasts as they grew into her palms, slowly swelling larger and larger. They were soon back to their former DD cup size but firm and with a perfect teardrop shape. They continued to swell larger and larger, stretching her sweater taut across her two erect nipples. The feeling was fantastic. She held her knees together and stared down at the fluffy white sweater as it stretched to contain her burgeoning bust. The sight thrilled her!

“Ohhh! Can you give me a… twenty six inch waist Mr. Tyke?”

“YES.” The voice answered.

She felt her waist suck in, growing tighter, narrower and more tapered until it was exactly twenty six inches. By contrast her hips now appeared to flare out in a wider even more inviting curve. Her breasts continued to swell until they were overflowing her palms and spilling out the bottom of the tiny sweater.

She thought for a moment back to the letter Annie Abrams had dropped in her car three weeks ago. The heartbreak and bitterness she’d felt when she first wished to be younger. Since then it’d had been a cycle of increasingly intense elation and frustration as she grew progressively younger and more beautiful. The young boys around her ignored her as she doubled over, cradling her swelling boobs in her arms. One of them accidentally stepped on her toe in his rush to get to the front of the line but she hardly felt it. She just wanted to be eighteen again—up on that stage sucking off this crowd of young studs. The pleasant feeling radiating from her nipples down to her toes was like nothing she’d ever felt. Her pussy was sopping wet. Her heart was beating like a drum. She could feel herself getting hotter. She grabbed her nipples and squeezed them between her fingers. A sudden orgasm shattered her senses and she moaned loudly but no one could hear her groans of ecstasy over the din.

“Aaaahhh… could this FEEL any BETTER!??” she asked aloud

“YES BUT OF COURSE MISS PETERS.” The voice answered with an electric crackle.

And with that she felt her tender nipples puff up and distend until they were almost two inches long. The mere touch of her hand to them made tiny sparks and sent shivers down her spine. Her pussy twitched with an orgasmic knee-buckling wave of pleasure the likes of which she’d never experienced or even imagined possible.

“Feel better, Miss Peters??” the voice asked from the darkness.

Paula Peters heard the Tyke let out a thin chuckle that sounded like radio static as she found herself heading toward the floor, rocked by a shuddering tit orgasm, weak in the knees and straining under the weight of her still swelling boobs.

“Please stop, Mr. Tyke. It’s enough. They’re large enough.” She said as she plopped down onto the floor, landing on her cushy tush and hugging her huge balloons close to her body.

She tried to resist the temptation to grab onto her nipples which pulsed with sensation. She could actually feel the vibrations of the loud music in the air, dancing on her hypersensitive nipples. The feeling was electric and delightful. Her tits continued their slow inflation, imperceptibly now but growing heavier and more difficult to manage, overflowing her hands and arms. She felt they were getting too big now.

“Why won’t you stop this Mr. Tyke?”

“You haven’t asked me to, Miss Peters.” The faint voice said.

“WILL YOU STOP MY BOOBS FROM GROWING?”

And with that it stopped. Paula regained her composure and slowly stood up. She was now an amazon vision; six foot two, 46” H knockers to die for, wasp thin waist. She pulled off her insufficient sweater and threw it into the crowd. Suddenly the music and cheering and hollering stopped. The crowd of boys parted and stared in amazement as the amazon goddess moved toward the fireplace, her long shapely legs and wide accommodating hips sashayed, causing her perfect ass and bare jugs to wobble sexily. The sated cum-streaked young girl she faded away in a small orange glow of light. She left this world with a lust-filled half smile permanently frozen on her face. The Tyke took his place on the mantle and removed his silver cap, resting it in his lap as he lit his pipe and began puffing. It was Paula’s turn in the spotlight. Her big night. And he had a fireside seat.

“Who’s first?” she asked as she unzipped her leather mini-skirt and threw it to the floor.

A hush fell over the crowd. They seemed intimidated by this middle-aged giantess, but her attraction was undeniable. She bent over to slip off her silk stockings and felt one of her large sensitive nipples accidentally brush against the top of her thigh. She staggered and nearly fell over backwards from the delightful feeling that shot through her chest and into her pussy. Her hand moved down to her crotch and her fingers instinctively probed her pussy, manipulating her clit. Her body shuddered with spasm. The crowd took two steps back.

“Come on. Don’t be shy.” She said as she got down on her knees in front of the fire and pleasured herself in front of the crowd.

“Who wants the best blow job they’ve ever had.” She promised as she fingered her twat.

Still no takers.

The entire crowd was staring at her, at her tits to be exact. They appeared hypnotized, paralyzed by them. Paula drew her arms together and made her boobs bulge out, forming a nice deep inviting cleavage for the first taker to dive into. But still no one stepped forward. What kind of boys were these who could resist this display? What were they afraid of?

She took her tits in hand and kneaded them like bread dough, careful to avoid her nipples. She was nearly cumming already from her auto-stimulation. How would she make it through one hundred and seventy blow jobs? She didn’t care. She was eager now to find out and could practically taste the cum. It was thrilling just to feel the roomful of eyes glued to her tits. She hefted them in her hands and bounced them up and down, rocked her shoulders and made them swing back and forth, testing their movements for her own pleasure but mostly for that of the crowd of boys who were growing more interested by the second.

Finally the Tyke’s hat started bouncing up and down in his lap. He rapped his can against the mantle over the fireplace signaling the first boy to come forward and approach Paula. He was followed by an onrushing mob of forty nine other eager candidates who all suddenly wanted a piece of Paula. Paula smiled and took the first kid’s dick in her hand and squeezed it. It was so young and smooth. She brushed its head against one of her puffy distended nipples. Small sparks crackled on contact. Paula drew a deep breath that made her chest swell out impressively. She stared at the boys tight stomach and chiseled muscles and licked her lips. She felt so sexy, so powerful.

The Tyke looked down from his perch, pleased with the sight before him and pleased with himself. But he was twirling his moustache, working something out in his fiendish little head.

“Are these young ones MAN enough for a woman of your… stature, Miss Peters?” his voice whispered in her ear, baiting her.

“Are you boys MAN ENOUGH to fuck these tits?” she asked the crowd, shocked somewhat but excited by her own air of sexual confidence.

The Tyke sniffed his carnation, drawing a long satisfying breath through his nose that caused every dick in the room to swell larger. Moments ago, when the crowd of boys might still have felt intimidated by Paula’s appearance, the Tyke asked each one of them what his one desire was (knowing what the answer would be.) True to form and without exception each boy asked for a huge cock and balls. Each wanted to fuck this towering big titted creature, but he wanted the equipment to give it to her good and hard. “I’ll see what I can do” was his cheerful reply to each boy’s request.

He’d managed with no difficulty to trick Miss Peters into asking the right question.

Paula felt the cock swell and lengthen in her hand, growing well beyond seven inches. She wanted to swallow it whole but instead she slipped it between her fleshy pillows and mashed her chest up against the lucky stud who started rocking his hips slowly against her. Every guy in the room tugged at his tightening jeans as the Tyke inhaled another long breath, sniffing his carnation once again. Once again every dick surged with blood, growing a few more inches larger and thicker. Paula felt the cock between her tits stiffen and grow longer until its head poked out of the confines of her cleavage. Her tender nipples brushed against the boy’s smooth stomach, sending waves of pleasure through her body. When he reached down to squeeze one of her nipples Paula shuddered. His man meat slid in and out of her cleavage as he grabbed the one nipple and touched it to the other, holding them together. Paula saw a white flash as the room disappeared for a brief instant. She looked up again at the boy’s bucking chiseled torso and saw a brilliant display of twinkling light in front of her eyes, dancing white and silver spangles and tiny little stars. Her body was electric with desire. The backwards aging process and the longing for more life was now fueled by the exuberance, zest and stamina of a younger woman. The desire that had driven her to this point shifted into high gear. Suddenly her pussy was aching to be fucked, demanded to be fucked! She unconsciously hiked her ass in the air and invited any boy to enter her twitching drooling pussy from behind. She dropped on all fours and took the other kid’s cock into her mouth and started sucking on it. Her creamy white tits hung down past her elbows, their protruding nipples nearly brushing the floor. Horny young studs gathered around, peeling off their pants and crowding closer. Paula looked around while she slurped expertly at the cock that was stuffing her face, her eyes widened with expectation at the sight of nearly fifty young guys crowding around her now, their swelling foot long cocks held tight in their busy hands and each with a huge ball sac hanging down between his legs. While she sucked and fucked the first two young men, bodies moved in close from all sides, grabbing at her nipples and jerking off all around her.

The Tyke turned the radio dial to Karl’s old classic hits station and cranked up the volume once again. The Commodores’ “Brick House” came booming into the room and the crowd cheered.

“Awww, she’s a BRICK… HOUSE… she’s mighty might-tay… just lettin’ it AWL hang out… yeah, she’s a BRICK… HOUSE… the lady’s stacked, and that’s a fact. Ain’t holdin’ nothin’ back…”

She grabbed a dick in each hand and started pumping them as the first kid shot his wad down her throat. As soon as she finished draining his huge balls of their copious life fluid the next kid was there with his cock pointing at her mouth, ready to release his own load. Sometimes two or three boys were cumming on her face at the same time. Paula worked hard to get every spurting cock into her mouth without spilling a drop of cum but soon it was more than she could manage. She was drenched in the stuff. The creamy white fluid poured from the corners of her mouth, covered her hands and trickled down her arms. Her pussy was in a near constant state of orgasm as she was ram-rodded from behind while hands from all sides continually kneaded and pulled on her hypersensitive tits. The years pealed away like gossamer now as she steadily regressed to thirty three, then thirty, then twenty nine. As she sucked and fucked and slurped her way through her twenties she lost count. Her body was a playground of pleasure. Paula was in heaven.

By 2am Paula Peters was just finishing off load number one seventy.

She was eighteen again.

Every boy in the room had been sucked off at least three times, some as many as four or five. The cheers were dying down slightly by now. Paula had lost track though somewhere halfway through and she was showing no signs of stopping. She seemed to be the last one in the room with bottomless reserves of energy and stamina. When she stuffed another cock into her mouth and started squeezing the kid’s two tennis ball sized nuts, the Tyke suddenly killed the music. Everything in the room stopped and went completely quiet except for Paula who slurped loudly on the cock she had her mouth stretched around. TheTyke knocked his pipe on the mantle and jumped down to the floor, pulling the insatiable young eighteen year old slut by the arm, trying to separate her from the kid’s dick. He could have let her continue on unaware, letting her regress into a little girl, but for some reason he had a soft spot for this one and wanted to save her now from herself.

“Miss Peters. It’s time for us to be leaving.” He said as he tugged on her strong arm.

She let the long cock slip from her mouth and held it in her hands. She looked at the Tyke with bedroom eyes. He held out her purse and car keys to her.

“Happy eighteenth birthday, Miss Peters.” He said with a friendly smile.

Paula Peters turned back to the cock in her hands and licked it along the entire length of its twelve inch shaft.

“Miss Peters. You can stop now.”

Paula wanted more. She mindlessly wrapped her lips over the head of the thick prick and sucked it back into her mouth, sucking on it in long smooth expert strokes. Just as the boy began to cum the Tyke pulled him away from her. Thick ropes of semen lept through the air and splashed onto Paula’s glistening melons. As she held out her tongue to catch the boy’s spurting life juice the Tyke rapped his cane on the floor whisking he and Paula away in a flash of light.

Paula found herself back in the well-lit dressing room at Edison’s department store. She sucked on her fingers which were still smeared with sperm as she was confronted with her naked reflection in the mirror. Her unbelievable body was covered it sweat and was streaked with cum. Her waist was tiny. Her boobs were huge and stuck out over a foot from her torso. Her long mane of thick hair was now platinum blonde and was thicker and longer and hung down nearly to her ass. She had the beautiful face of a supermodel. She was the ultimate sex object, at least according to the typical male college horn dog she was. To the average man or woman in the street Paula might be something to stop traffic. A freak of nature. But most importantly she was now eighteen year young. She finally had her life back to live over again from scratch! Her insane craving now subsided and she breathed a satisfied sigh of relief. Her mission was accomplished.

“A towel for you, Miss Peters?” the Tyke’s muffled voice said as a steaming hot towel appeared on the stool next to the mirror.

Paula picked up the warm towel, uncovering the little Tyke who was hiding out beneath it. This time he stood only eight inches high and she didn’t even notice him. She cleaned herself off from head to toe, all the while admiring her fantastic new body. When she dragged the coarse fabric across her nipples she was rewarded with jolt of electric pleasure. Her nipples were not to be mishandled or carelessly brushed up against, that is, not if she wanted to be able to stand up and function normally. She lightly traced her long red finger nail along the length of her protruding nipples which stood straight up, pointing slightly away from each other. She blew lightly on them and watched them stiffen in the gentle breeze. Even this slight stimulation sent a shudder down her spine. As she familiarized herself with these wonderful new sensations that were now a permanent part of her body Paula Peters realized she would need to be careful. The Tyke had turned her body into a walking amusement park and she’d have to struggle to contain herself. But the realization of what she’d become thrilled her nonetheless. With her back turned to him Paula gave silent thanks and praise to the Tyke as she bent her head forward and lifted one of her nipples up to her mouth and sucked on it. The tiny Tyke sat on the stool gazing lecherously up at her gigantic pussy when suddenly Paula staggered backward against the wall with a thud, letting her body slide down and onto the little stool where he sat. The Tyke had to leap through the air to avoid being crushed. Paula could hear people outside the fitting room gathering up hangers and rattling paper. But she was overwhelmed by the wonderful delicious feeling emanating from her nipples throughout her body as she sucked herself. Her hand reached for her pussy and she quickly masturbated herself to a pounding orgasm. The Tyke looked on without saying a word, his hat bopping up and down in front of his crotch.

“Hurry up Miss. We’ve got outfits here for you to try on. And life’s too short to dilly dally around.” It was the helpful little old sales lady’s voice.

Paula sat up and wiped her hands on the damp towel. The old woman reached in with a handful of plastic hangers with various 46” H brassieres hanging from them. Paula took the hangers from the woman.

“Thank you.” Her voice sounded soft and sweet as a little girl’s.

“I didn’t think we even CARRIED your size but I found those.”

Paula realized she wasn’t hear to get herself off. She was here to get some new clothes so she could start her new life in style! She looked through her white clutch purse which lay on the dressing stool. The two hundred dollars was still there from the guy in the Audi. She also found her driver’s license. The girl’s photo exactly matched the face that stared back at her from the mirror. Gorgeous. Young. Blonde. Dazzling eyes and a broad smile of straight white teeth. Full sensuous lips. High cheek bones and a tiny little button nose. The date of birth on her license now said she was born in 1982. She tried to remember what year she’d really been born but she couldn’t. She could remember Karl still, and she could remember another man before Karl but no longer recall his name. All she remembered about him was how he went behind her back and had slept with a forgotten girlfriend of hers. Her past life was of no use to her now, not even as a fond memory. A seething jealousy of other women was the only thing that remained of the old Mrs. Peters. She looked at the drop dead gorgeous girl gazing back at her from the mirror and vowed never to play second fiddle to another woman again.

She focussed her attention on the tags hanging from the bras. 46” H. She gasped and swelled her chest with pride. She checked the price on a beautiful black lace model. The cups were quite huge… and so was the price! All of the bras were over a hundred bucks each. As she slipped into the black brassiere she shouted to the sales lady over the wall.

“Ma’am?? Do you have anything cheaper than these?” Paula asked in a squeaky girl’s voice that sounded more like eight than eighteen.

“Honey those are all we have… IN YOUR SIZE… the rare sizes are always more expensive.” The saleslady replied in a condescending tone.

“Shit!” Paula blurted out.

“WELL!!” the saleslady said as she threw down some hangers outside the dressing room.

Paula checked out the fit of the 46” H bra and was pleasantly surprised. It was at least a size too small. Her creamy soft tits were bulging out over the black lace trim and around the shoulder straps.

“Fuck ME!” she said in disbelief “I this thing is too small!”

Paula’s hand shot over her mouth as she realized what she’d just said. She’d never said that word in her life. She was frustrated that she only had two hundred bucks in her purse. She wanted to buy a whole new wardrobe but that would have to wait until she found away to make some more money. But why did she blurt out such an obscenity in front of the helpful old woman? How could she be so disrespectful? She felt a tiny pang of guilt about offending the old woman but soon her mind was off that and back onto HER problems. She needed a bra and she needed a new outfit. And she had to find something for under two hundred bucks because that was all she had in her purse. The bra alone was going to cost her a hundred. She sat there trying to figure out how much a one hundred was from two hundred. Her brain wasn’t working properly. She checked her purse again and pulled out two one hundred dollar bills and counted them. One, two. Now that she could see the two separate bills in her hands she was able to do the math. If she spent one hundred that makes one hundred left over to spend on other stuff.

The old woman slammed a row of hangers onto the top of Paula’s fitting room door, an assortment of items that she figured this rude young hussy might like. She didn’t say anything but she let out a loud disapproving sigh hoping that Paula would get the message and hurry up and get out. She assumed that young Paula was a hooker and if so she had no business in HER store.

“Damned whore.” The saleslady mumbled under her breath.

“Bitch.” Paula said under her breath.

She realized she needed to get out of there fast. She pulled the other hangers down and quickly whipped through the blouses and sweaters the saleslady had selected for her. Luckily these items were cheaper, but the math this time would be far more difficult. She’d be able to afford a top but she was also going to get a new skirt… and shoes. And panties. She checked all the price tags and held the blouses up in front of herself in the mirror. Everything looked fantastic on her. She couldn’t decide what to do, she wanted to buy them all.

“Shit, what should I do?” She asked herself quietly.

“What should you do! Indeed, Miss Peters.” The Tyke spoke up from the floor next to her feet.

Paula jumped with surprise when she saw him so small standing there. She could barely see past her huge bust to even see him. She picked the little man up in her hands and held him in front of her face like a beloved pet.

“Can you give me some money Mr. Tyke?” Paula asked like a school girl trying to tease a big favor out of her father.

“Money? No. I can’t give you money Miss Peters.” He said as Paula furled her brow and pouted.

“Why not, Mr. Tyke?” she asked. She lifted him up close to her face and stroked him gently under his tiny chin with the tip of her pinky finger.

“Because, Miss Peters.” Despite his diminutive size he spoke to Paula like a little child.

“Because WHY Mr. Tyke?” she asked as she dragged her toe against the carpet and chewed her lower lip.

“Just because…” he said as he smiled at the wonderful sight of her vast bosom that surrounded him on all sides The view of her swelling creamy globes held aloft in the black silk bra was a sight to behold. Paula knew she could walk out of her with all the clothes she wanted if she could but think of the right thing to say.

“Can you give me a… credit card???” she asked.

Again the Tyke denied her.

“But don’t you want me to have these things? Look at these beautiful bras Mr. Tyke.” She picked up a white silk brassiere from the floor and dropped the Tyke into the large cup and swung the bra around her index finger by the strap.

She removed him from the bra cup. He looked at little dizzy and his silver hat was gone, but he was smiling a big smile.

“How can pay for all of these clothes?” she asked point blank.

There was a soft knock on the dressing room door. The Tyke vanished.

“Hello, miss?” the male supervisor’s voice spoke to her through the slats.

Paula covered herself, pulling a little pink cashmere sweater on over her head.

“Yes, someone’s in here.” She replied, listening for him to leave.

“I’m sorry miss but the management has asked me to ask you to leave.”

“Give me one minute. I’m trying to decide.” She tried to add up the numbers from the tags of the stuff she was wearing. 37245868302428… the numbers all ran together.

“Shit! Shit!” she said to herself.

“Is there something I can do to help you?” he said as he rapped his knuckles softly against the door causing it to swing open.

He got a look at Paula standing there and his jaw dropped. She held a blouse up in front of her. She was naked from the waist down, staring back at him with a grin on her face.

“I can’t decide what to get. I don’t have enough money.” She said.

“How much do you need?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Do you like this outfit?”

Paula removed the blouse that hid her curly blonde bush. She drew her shoulders back and swiveled at the hips, showing off how well she filled out the tight fuzzy sweater.

“I’m sure we can make some accommodation for you, miss.” The handsome young supervisor said. His mouth watered at the sight of her.

Paula turned and bent at the waist to pick up her clutch purse from the stool. She aimed her sexy round ass in his direction. The salesman could see her swollen pussy lips puffing out between her legs beneath her bush of downy fur. She turned around tugged on her sweater, pulling it down until a decent amount of cleavage swelled out around the neckline. The salesman’s attention was riveted to Paula’s bodacious body, his eyes glued to her tits. Seeing this Paula pulled the man closer to her and sat him down on the stool.

“Do you think I can afford this outfit?” she asked.

“What ever you want is fine.” He replied as Paula bent over and reached for his pants.

He stared down into her dark cavernous cleavage. Paula smiled at him as she unhooked his belt and unzipped his fly, letting his rigid cock leap out. She threw a leg over the man’s lap and eased herself onto his pole, impaling her pussy with one smooth motion. She sat on top of the lucky salesman and started a rocking her hips, sliding his prick in and out of her slippery hole. The man immediately started bucking to meet her rhythmic thrusts. Paula softly bounced her boobs against the strange man’s face. Her fuzzy sweater brushed against his cheeks as she repeatedly shoved herself into him. The friction of the silk brassiere fabric against Paula’s nipples felt great. She reached down and lifted the sweater up and pulled it up over her head. Then she undid the row of seven hooks holding her bra on. Soon the stranger was sucking hungrily at Paula’s teats, pumping his cock in and out of her snatch, sending both of them to a crashing climax that rocked the quiet fitting room booth. Paula wouldn’t have to worry about money today.

Somewhere in another dimension Mr. Tyke is sitting at a bar enjoying a glass of brandy, telling his people the tall tale of Paula Peters… one of thousands of tales… one of BILLIONS… just like it. The Tykes lived for these stories. The Tykes lived THROUGH these stories!

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©2000, Chet