Antony had this awesome gift or curse, depending on the dream. When Antony dreamed, he dreamed big. He could recall sounds, smells, and tastes; everything would always feel so real on waking that he would have difficulty separating reality from make-believe.
The sun hung low, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, but Antonys' mind was elsewhere. He was 46 and felt an overwhelming weight on his shoulders, suffocated by work pressures. He yearned for freedom, adventure, and a chance to escape his responsibilities, if only briefly.
Antony spotted a solitary figure at the other end of the deck as he admired the view. An elderly man, perhaps in his seventies, was seated comfortably in a deck chair, the faint lines of time etched into his weathered face. He wore a bright Hawaiian shirt, exposing his tan belly and at least three thick gold chains, a pair of sunglasses perched on his nose, and a content smile that spoke of countless stories and experiences. In a heavy Italian accent, this guy was laughing and telling inappropriate jokes to the laughing crowd around him. Antony felt an inexplicable connection to this man. He thought how marvellous it must be to live with such ease, devoid of the anxieties that plagued his life.
“Excuse me,” Antony called out as he approached the man. “Have you been on many cruises?”
The old man looked up, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “More than I can count, my boy. Each has its charm, but the best treasures are not the places you see but the people you meet.”
Ethan nodded, intrigued. “What’s it like to be your age? Do you ever wish to be young again?”
The old man chuckled, like wind chimes dancing in the breeze. “Ah, youth is a gift, full of energy and dreams. But wisdom, my friend, comes with age. Sometimes, I wish to feel youthful excitement again, but only for a day.”
Their conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on dreams, regrets, and the weight of time. Antony felt a daring notion creep into his mind as the sun dipped beneath the horizon. What if he could swap places with this old man, even if just for a moment? Experience life without burdens, see the world through a seasoned traveller's eyes, and embrace the joy and freedom that wisdom can bring.
“Wouldn’t it be something,” Antony mused, leaning closer, “to trade places for just a day? A lesson in living, right?”
The old man’s grin widened, revealing a twinkle in his eye. “You know, I think there’s magic in that notion. But you may find the grass isn’t always greener on the other side.”
What got into you? Courtney asked if you would trade places with an old man and give him all your strength, youth, and power while you become old and weak. I mean, did you see his body and that pot belly of his? oh fuck, you would have a grey bush old man's cock with big saggy balls. What would you gain? And his old wife would now be your wife. Have you seen her? She was next to him. She looked every bit of 70 wearing those tight lycra pedal pushers exposing that huge camel toe, not to mention her huge hair and saggy breasts that would be yours. Don't expect me to swap places with her. You're on your own with that one. Both Antony and Courtney laughed at the absurdity of it all.
As Antony and Courtney drifted off to sleep in their cabin that night, he entertained the fantastical idea. What if he could truly experience life as this old man? He closed his eyes, envisioning the swap—a moment of magic that could transform everything.
When he awoke the next day, Antony felt a strange sensation, a mix of excitement and apprehension. He sat up, looked around his cabin, and noticed something was different. The room felt larger, the bed comfier. To his left lay an elderly woman, at least in her 70s and the air thick with nostalgia. He hurried to the mirror and gasped. Staring back at him was the face of the old man he had conversed with—wrinkles, grey hair, gold chains, tan belly and all.
He had indeed swapped bodies!
Antony couldn’t believe his luck. Cazzo Antony said in his new Italian accent, parlo Italiano adesso, that his natural thoughts and speech were now in Italian. Overwhelmed, he quickly entered the bathroom; taking in his appearance, the tanned grey-haired Italian man from last night stared back at Antony as he gazed in the mirror. Antony ran his hands over his firm, tanned belly. It was large but not large enough to obscure his new cock. Proudly sitting below his belly was what appeared to be two inches of fat uncut cock sitting in a grey bush. In Italian, Antony thinks to himself fuck, I hope this guy is a grower because this cock is way too small especially compared to the nine-inch uncut veiny monster he usually sported. Antony placed one of his new shorter thick legs on the spa bath and started stroking his new cock. Antony loved the sensation of having a foreskin. Feeling the skin slide along his soft smaller cock was a totally new sensation, and he loved it. Antony's new cock started slowly responding to the gentle stroking; however, it was taking a lot longer to get hard than he was used to. His old younger cock would get hard as steel in seconds. While attempting to bring his new 70-year-old man's cock to hardness, Antony spots a pair of yellow lycra carri pants inside out on the floor with a pair of rather sexy purple and black panties bundled up in them. Hey, that's what this guy's wife was wearing yesterday. Hang on now, she is my wife. Something about that thought turned Antony on. This woman, who is completely a stranger, is the wife of the body I inhabit. She has no idea I'm someone else. with that thought, Antony unravelled his now 70-year-old wife's panties from the capri pants on the floor. Wow, size 16, Antony thought as he untwisted the panties that were a lot bigger than the size 6 his wife wore.
Nonetheless, they were sexy: purple silk with black and red panels at the front. Antony brought the panties to his nose. He could smell a strong musk mixed with perfume. The mixture was intoxicating and sexy. The scent alone caused Antony's new 70-year-old man cock to rise to its full extent. Six inches, I can live with that a lot smaller, but a dam site better than the two inches it was when soft, and this cock was thick nice and fat.
Fuck I really should be quite scared. I've just woken up in the body of a 70-year-old Italian guy while he no doubt is in my body doing god knows what with my wife. But instead, I've turned on. I, for whatever reason, feel really free and sexy in this old body fuck this, I'm seeing where this goes today. I'm the old guy, and he must be doing well as this suit must have cost a fortune.
Fuck I know I'm Gino, but what is my wife's name? After a little ransacking, Antony found her cruise card; ah, it's Maria, nice. With that, Antony jumped back into bed with his now-old wife. still, hard as a rock and turned on from the whole pantie business, Antony thought fuck it let's see where this goes. As Antony spooned, pressing himself against Marias' soft flabby, satin pantie-covered ass, his old smaller hard cock rubbed against the smooth fabric, gently moving his new foreskin as he pushed against Maria's pantie-protected ass, The smell of Marias' perfume and the natural body odour was intoxicating, causing Antony to push harder and harder. In a sultry old Italian woman's voice, Maria exclaims Gino, what are you doing? We haven't done that in a while. You are really hungry for my ass hole your usually a pussy man.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author