"Oh, come on, I just needed to get some air. I've been cooped up too long."

"That's the point! You aren't supposed to go anywhere until we figure this out."

"Look, I really appreciate you being serious about this, but I'm fine. I can go out."

"How did you get out?"

"I borrowed your dad's car."

"You mean your SON'S car?!!? How? You are my feeble 100 year old grandmother. You were born in 1924. You cannot drive."

"Well I drove to Sam's house just fine."

"Oh god. Sam's house?!? Leave. Now."

"Oh come on. Sam's fine. He's our friend."

"You should be with Brandon right now. He's the one watching you."

"Watching me for what?"

"We've been over this. He's watching you for gestures. Movements. Strange behavior. Any signs that the worst case scenario is happening."

"I don't think we need to take so many precautions. I'm fine. My gestures are all the same. I'm a guy."

"And where did you go today?"

"I got a haircut. I went shopping."

". . . You what?"

"Jesus your grandmother's curly hair was bugging me so I got it done."

"You got it done???. . . Listen, Pete. You're going to BE done if you keep going down the rabbit hole. Any giving in to feminine whims is a slippery slope."

"We don't know that for sure."

"You sound different. Is there a mirror nearby."

"Yes."

"Look in it. Tell me the woman in the mirror is 100 years old."

"I. . . I look. . . I look 95."

"You don't sound 95. You sound younger. Just drive back to my house and sit in my grandmothers rocking chair like you are supposed to be doing. If you have any sexual stimulous, a spare thought, a touch, ANYTHING, my grandmother's body will use that as an opportunity to draw from your essence."

"How do you know?"

"Pete. Every time that happens, you're getting older. You say you look 95. That means the you we extract from her body when we find the reversal spell will be 26."

". . ."

"Leave Sam's house."

"Come on. I just want to hang out a second. Have a few beers with Sam. I deserve that. You're the one who used the spell"

"Yes, I know, and I'm also the one buried in 6th century texts trying to figure out how to reverse it while you drink beers with Sam. Please for your own good, LEAVE!"

"Okay. . . Okay, I will. I'm going right now."

"Thank you."

CLICK

God, what an asshole. It's not my fault he cast this spell. It's not my fault his grandmother's body is feeding off of me.

Have no sexual thoughts. PLEASE. Am I supposed to not sleep.

His grandmother's dreams are waiting the moment I shut my eyes. God, she must have been something.

Last night's really bothered me.

I can't get it out of my head. Like a transmission from some bygone era where a screen was something you saw once a week at the movies if you were lucky. One minute I was dreaming about my girlfriend Jo and I on a run. We stopped at that field along the old Smith Farm and kissed.

Then suddenly the dream changed.

The intimacy of it. The surrender. Who was he? Someone she was with. I saw her reflection in the mirror. She had to have been early 20s like me. Was it during World War 2? Or after?

I was pleasuring him. I wanted him letting go. I wanted him lost at what I was doing to him. I wanted him shaking.

The worst thing was, I realized, while I was taking him over the edge, that Jo has never touched me like that. She has that 1000 yard stare of someone constantly on their device, constantly thinking of the next swipe.

I was rivited watching him come. Even now I bite my lip. He kept coming and coming. It felt like a reward. For being a good woman to him. For getting him off.

Fuck, Andy is right. I need to get home.

But Sam's going to be annoyed with me.

Maybe I can talk to him a second. And then I'll go.

"Dude, I still can't believe you're in Andy's grandma. I thought she was about to kick off or something You look like a total MILF."

Sam is funny, I'll give him that. I knew this was the right place to stop after getting a makeover.

"I mean, dude, what's your secret? Did you moisturize."

"Ha, I guess I just wear Dorothy well."

"Dorothy? That's her name? Jesus, dude, that's some real Wizard of Oz shit right there. Dorothy. That's kinda sexy I guess."

God, Sam is dumb, but I have to say, it's cute.

"So I don't get it. What's the deal again? You can't touch a cock."

"I don't think that's it."

"Why not?"

"It's hard to explain. . . It's just, I can't go too far. Or I might not change back exactly."

"Are you sure Andy isn't just sad you get to be his grandma for awhile. I mean, damn Dorothy. You're hot."

Oh, Sam.

"I don't know. From the look of myself in the mirror, I might be 40 when Andy figures out the reversal spell."

"Damn, dude. That's old. Most guys are dead by the time they are 40. I see them following their wives around the mall with sad expressions on their face. But you, you're smoking hot. A total GILF."

"Yeah, but Andy's probably right. I should cool it."

"Or maybe we could test his hypothesis really quick. I'll watch you and see what happens."

Mmm.

Sam and I are on the college baseball team. I only saw him once in the shower. The girls would talk about him at sorority parties. I guess the rumors are true.

He's healthy.

"I dunno, Dorothy. You look the same age to me."

I hold on for dear life. Hold on, fathoming why it feels go good in my feminine hands. Hold on, glad I got my nails done today.

God I'm heating up. I want to spread my legs but I don't want him to think I'm liking this.

"Dude, where'd you get this outfit?"

"I bought it today at the mall. It took some work."

"How'd you pick it out? Are you into woman's clothes or something?"

Oh god. Now I am.

"Jesus, Pete. you even have stockings. Are you wearing a thong?"

"Yes."

Don't you feel weird in it?"

"Suprisingly. . . I don't. I picked these clothes because they felt good. They felt right."

"Even that thong between your tight ass cheeks?"

I squeezed my muscles at nothing. My pussy pulsed and my asshole puckered. I purred, unexpectedly, "Yes, Sam. Especially the thong between my tight ass cheeks."

"Fuck. Well. Good work. Anyway, looks like you aren't changing. You still look the same age. Maybe it's not about touching a cock. Maybe you get absorbed when you have a cock closer."

Oh, Sam. You big goof.

Take your time. Look like you don't care.

God, I can feel his heat on my face.

Here goes.

Mmm. Just look at him. Fuck.

God, the girls at Uni are right.

They'd all be so jealous right now.

Play it cool.

"Do you feel anything? Are you dying in there, Pete?"

"Dorothy. . ."

"Oh, that's right. Dorothy."

"No, I feel fine."

"And you look the same. I guess you have to put it in your mouth to really know."

"Uh."

"I know that's crazy, man. But the way you act. The way you move. It's really hard to see Pete. You've been a real woman since you rang my doorbell. I mean, admit it: you didn't just buy those clothes and come over out of the blue, did you? You wanted more than a chat, didn't you?"

Oh, Touche. Touche, Sam.

"So Dorothy. Wanna try it?"

Oh god.

Oh god he tastes good.

And it feels good, too. Feels good on my tongue.

Oh, fuck. I'm heating up. It's like after my dream. That uncanny feeling I had, my mind reeling, my pussy so swollen between my thighs.

"You're good at that, Dorothy. . . you just take your time. Find your way."

Oh, fuck. He's getting harder in my mouth.

"Did you say you had to go back to Andy's?"

I mumbled a no way on his cock. No fucking way. I'm staying here.

I'm staying right here.

"Let's make you a woman for real, Pete. You like the name Dorothy better anyway, don't you?"

Insatiable need.

A woman crossing in reverse through menopause midway through sex. A hot flash of rejuvination. An explosion into orgasm. Ovaries filling with eggs. Breasts perking up on my chest.

Fuck.

I can feel myself firming up around, Sam. Growing tighter.

My body recovering from the years. From the births. From Andy's dad, his uncles, and aunts.

Using my life force to do it. And me, unable to stop it.

Sam fucked some decades off of me.

Tonight I'm in my 40s.

Unable to stop. Dorothy has considerable savings. Millions. I bought a phone with cash. I downloaded an app.

I was surprised to find our baseball coach.

I liked his profile.

He looked like just the man to get me into my mid-30s.

If he only knew.

And who will finish me off?

Who will be the one to snatch the final grains of sand from the male essence being fed on within me at an alarming rate?

I can feel her. Feel her desire. Feel the intimacy and rawness of her origins, of a time and place I could never fathom.

Raw unhinged sexuality, unleashed.

He's a businessman.

I met him at a bar in Budapest.

The flight seemed like a good idea. To avoid Andy. To avoid the dramatic family madness of a 20-something version of his grandma showing up on Halloween. Though I was unrecognizable.

I satiated myself the first few nights. Knowing I wanted someone special.

And I met him.

He was rich. Like me.

I let him take me out.

And I could feel my legs fighting under the table. Fighting to not spread.

I knew.

I'm close now.

He's going to explode and I will be gone.

And I will be her.

"Oh fuck, Dorothy. You're so good at that."

I smile inside, knowing I'm a bit of a slut. Knowing the boys like it.

I whisper over his cock. "I just do everything my girlfriend Jo was too shy to do."

It comes out as gargles and mumbles.

And he explodes down my throat.

I remember him now.

He was an officer.

I was stationed in France as a spy.

What we had was electric.

Everything jumbles and twirls within me, swirling like taffy.

My nipples stiffen, thankful for the dream that started me on this path. Wondering if Dorothy had planted it in my psyche as I slept.

My pussy slowly grows wet with my feminine juices, getting me ready for him.

I think about Sam, playing video games somewhere far across the Atlantic.

Oh, Sam. I'm glad I decided to go to your place.

I just needed to get some air.

I had been cooped up too long.

And I knew you'd fuck some sense into me.

.

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