The Age Machine Ch. 02

Donna woke up, and heard the sound of shower water running in the hotel bathroom. It must have been a peaceful sleep; she didn't even remember hearing Rex get up.

She reoriented herself with the unfamiliar surroundings, and remembered why she was here. Today her husband would give her the gift of his youth -- an ultimate act of service.

The thought made her heart wake, and race with joyous excitement. She sat up quickly, her morning grogginess evaporating almost instantly. She wondered how long Rex had been in the shower: Was he just getting underway? Or was he almost done? She hoped he wasn't too close to finishing.

She cast off her nightshirt in an uncharacteristically hurried manner -- (when she was by herself, she typically undressed much less seductively than when she was under Rex's watchful gaze) -- and then she quietly opened the door of the hotel bathroom. Her feet pressed against the cold tile floor, but her face felt warmed by the steam -- which meant Rex had probably been showering for a while. This meant he might shut off the water at any second, which would have been a disappointment. Donna swiftly pulled aside the shower curtain, and lifted one foot over the tub.

Rex seemed momentarily surprised by the sudden noise, but said nothing as his wife stood behind him, wrapped her arms around his torso, and let her bare breasts push up against his warm, wet back. She almost purred in contentment, knowing what would happen next: she would have one or two delicious orgasms in the shower, while he would be left in throbbing want. Donna had accidentally stumbled onto the benefits of cockteasing, and male orgasm denial, sometime in her mid-to-late 20s -- almost two decades ago, but at an age not too far from where she would be later this afternoon. She hadn't set out to be a cocktease -- a manipulative tormentress -- at least, not initially. She was simply enrolled in graduate school at the time, often worn out from late nights of research. After a stressful week, sex sounded like a good way to relax. Yet, on more than one Friday night, after some fairly heavy petting, she would find herself drifting into a blissful sleep, right at the moment her man was becoming aroused to the point of "needing" relief.

Some of the men she had dated became bitter and boorish about it. They'd brashly complain, sometimes waking her up impatiently. If she failed to rouse herself, they would be moody in the morning. Those relationships never lasted very long. Yet other men seemed affected in an entirely different way: whenever she inadvertently drifted off to sleep, leaving them unsatisfied, she was treated much more gentlemanly the following day; each unintended early ending led to courtesy and wooing on the morrow. The stark contrast of those two reactions -- there was rarely anything in the middle -- made her curious. By the time she'd completed her degree and met Rex, she decided to put her research skills to work in some very erotic experimentation.

She discovered that leaving Rex with unfulfilled desire made him swoon for her. Rex was never put into chastity, or anything harsh like that. In fact, Rex usually had sex with his wife about two or three times a week -- probably about as much as many other married men. However, the in-between days rarely ended with a quick goodnight kiss before the lights went out. More often than not, he was deliberately aroused to the brink of orgasm (at least once, if not more than that), before being left wanting.

It was never too long before the laws of supply-and-demand kicked in. Faithful Rex could only get the relief he so desperately needed from one supplier, and she made sure demand was kept unusually high. The two of them fit together hand-in-glove: she enjoyed the play very much, at times becoming aroused when coaxed him, and even occasionally manipulating him in his ultra-aroused state. But, far from growing bitter, he seemed to thrive in his submission. Even when she was seemingly cruel, it was always with the end goal of making him more devoted, and helping them both feel more entwined.

Now, in the shower, she was plying her craft again. As her hands moved sensuously up and down his slippery chest and stomach, she'd occasionally let one hand grab his protruding cock, using the lather as lubricant for a few strokes. As soon as he started to moan a little, she'd move her hand away. Each time she gripped him, she noticed he felt a little harder than the time before, and his cock would droop a little less each time she let go. It wasn't long before his cock had transformed into a bulging erection.

She was intimately aware that another metamorphosis was occurring, also -- in his mind. Typically, his resolve would gradually soften as his flesh became increasingly hard. Rex was filling with want, but Rex always filled with a lust that was both courteous and deferential.

Donna gently spun him around, and they stood face-to-face. The endless supply of hot hotel water sprayed against his back, while they gazed deeply into each other's eyes. They said no words, but much was tacitly communicated. They positioned themselves so that the knob of his upright erection pressed against her pussy lips and clit. She rocked her hips almost imperceptibly; it was her turn to moan in the rhapsody of genital pleasure. It took a lot of willpower for Donna not to turn herself around, bend and lean against the shower wall, and let Rex thrust in and out of her. But too much was at stake today. Not that Rex would change his mind about the age donation -- they had talked about that when he was aroused, and when he wasn't, so she was confident he wouldn't back out of the deal, merely because he had a timely orgasm. However, she had given a lot of thought to this day, and she hungered for him to be in that submissive, overwhelmed, awed, and reverential frame of mind at the very moment the age transplant took place, which meant he'd need to keep that needy urge pent up inside of him for the time being.

She closed her eyes, and imagined her husband kneeling, with that delicious mix of dread and desperation, just before his youth was sucked out of him, and transplanted into the body of his living goddess. That vision made hips rock harder. He wasn't penetrating, but her parted lips straddled his stiff shaft, and her clit was moving against his bulging flesh. Three times, she thrust her hips forward, and glided them back. Then, her moaning started. A few more times, perhaps almost a dozen, each with increasing frenzy, and it finally happened: she convulsed in rapturous pleasure. She let out a cat-like moan, her breathing was momentarily belabored, her legs suddenly weak, and her brain temporarily transported to a blissful heaven. As her orgasm finally subsided, she inhaled deeply, then slowly opened her eyes. Rex was gazing at her, with a quizzical look, which was focused on one question: "Can I have one, too?"

She grabbed the back of his head, and thrust her cold tongue in his warm mouth. She didn't need to answer him; he knew he'd have to wait.

to be continued...