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  1. MuscleAndBulge

    Changing Fortunes

    A trip to the fortune teller gives Mark the answer to his relationship problems, although not in the way he expected. I hope you all enjoy! ~~~~~ “Come inside Mark” I entered the small room, its walls covered with posters showing astrological signs, tarot cards, and other assorted mystical adornments. A friend of mine had suggested this particular woman, vouching for her and enthusiastically repeating that she was the real deal and could probably help me with whatever problem I was having. I took a seat across from her at a small table covered with an intricately patterned fabric. I half expected there to be a crystal ball in the middle for her to wave her hands over and peer into as she read my fortune. Normally I wouldn’t seek out the help of a fortune-teller, but my friend had been so insistent that I visited her if for no other reason than to get him to stop pressuring me. Besides, I could only stand to benefit. Even if I lost fifty bucks in the process. Although a small sign in the front window said “satisfaction guaranteed!” “Tell me, what can Madame Garmand help you with?” She asked as she adjusted a shawl draped over her shoulders that was also a very ornate and intricate fabric. “Well, I’ve been having some problems in my relationship with my boyfriend. I want to know if things will get better with him or if I should move on.” “You want to leave him?” “No… not really. We get along well, and we share a lot of interests. Things have just gotten… stale. Like there’s no spark anymore.” “And you want me to tell you if this spark will come back.” “I suppose so. All I know is that if things stay the same, I’m not sure I want to stay with him.” “I see. Would you happen to have something that he gave you? Something that was a romantic gift.” I wasn’t expecting this. I pulled my backpack onto my lap and started searching for something. Near the bottom of the bag was a warm hat Erik had given me last autumn when my ears were cold after not dressing warm enough. It was our fourth or fifth date and we had been going out for about a month and Erik offered it to keep me warm. The next day I tried to give it back, but Erik had insisted that it looked better on me. I handed this hat across the table and the fortune teller took it. She examined the plain hat and asked, “this is your romantic gift?” with only a hint of skepticism. I explained the story and she nodded slowly, satisfied that the item would suffice. She laid it in the center of the table and said, “give me your left hand.” I reached out and she grasped it. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. We sat there in silence for what felt like five minutes. Her eyes were moving under her eyelids as though reading something written on the other side. She opened her eyes and looked at me as her lips formed a crooked smile. “I have the solution to your problems.” “You do? That was… fast.” “It will cost you extra, but I guarantee it will work. Or I’ll refund you all the money you spent here today.” I was little surprised. I didn’t think there would be an upsell at a fortune teller. But considering her guarantee, I figured I had come this far so I may as well see it through. At least that way I gave it an honest try. “Alright, fine.” I pulled the cash from my wallet and handed it over to the fortune teller. She plucked it from my fingers with a bit of a flourish. “You won’t regret it dear.” Then she winked and walked out of the room. I heard some rummaging, and a few things crashed in the other room. She probably lived in the small boutique shop. She spoke loudly from the other room, “My services sometimes go beyond your usual tarot card reading or tea leaves. You’re lucky you came to me, you’re one of the lucky ones that will benefit from my… unique skills in fashion.” I wasn’t sure what she meant, I just hoped my money wasn’t wasted on a fortune teller that was out of her mind. She came back into the room with a small cardboard box. “Take this home with you and wait until you’re alone to put it on. Wear it as you go about your day and that spark between you and Erik will be back before you know it. If there are any problems, or you aren’t completely happy, you can find me here.” I was intrigued and started opening the box, but Madame Garmand stopped me “Wait until you’re home to open it! Now go, I have another client waiting.” And she shooed me out the door. Slightly confused, I got on the next bus and headed for home. ***** Once back at the apartment, I gave in to my curiosity. I pulled the small box out of his backpack and opened it. Some tissue paper was wrapped around whatever was inside. I had guessed it was something to wear, but what would fit inside such a small box? Pulling back the paper, what was inside was a jockstrap. It was a navy blue, very similar in color to the hat I had shown the fortune teller. I held it in my hands, a little shocked at what I had spent the extra money on. What had the fortune teller seen that made her think this would be the salvation of my relationship with Erik? I set aside the doubts in my head and followed the instructions. I undressed and put on the new garment. Stepping in front of the mirror to get a better look, I found there were two buckles, one on each hip. The pouch was a stretchy material that held my junk in place. Turning around in front of the mirror, I found a handwritten product tag hanging from the waistband. For those seeking more. Moisture wicking fabric. Buckles for easy undressing. Washing may cause shrinking. Interesting product information. Not like I could read the selling points before buying it. It was early in the afternoon, and I figured I should go to the gym before Erik got back from his 9 to 5 office job. With the summer nearly here, I didn’t bother changing at the nearby gym, instead just walking over in workout clothes. I did my usual exercise routine. I had made some small gains in the few months since I started working out. I listened to music and zoned out while I moved from one machine to the next. I was working up a sweat today, probably because of the warmer weather. As I continued working out, I found that I was pushing more weight than previous weeks, adding more and more weight as I went. I must be getting stronger than I thought! Maybe I wasn’t pushing myself hard enough before. I was now on the leg press machine when I started to notice something was off. I was pushing two more plates than I was last week! And I wasn’t struggling nearly as much! The last exercise on my list is preacher curls. I loaded up my usual weight, but it took hardly any effort! I added more weight, probably more than I should be attempting. I stepped into the machine and started pulling. It was a struggle, but I was able to do ten full reps of this weight that should not be possible for me to handle. While I was resting between sets, I made eye contact with a sweaty, muscular hunk. I gave him a node and he nodded back at me. I tried another set with this weight, and I somehow managed to get 15 reps! That was the last set of my workout, so I whipped the sweat off the machine and made my way to the doors. It wasn’t until I was walking past a wall of mirrors that I realized the sweaty hunk I had seen earlier was just my reflection! I had grown bigger muscles while I was working out! I was in shock as I inspected the changes in the mirror. I must have gained 30 lbs.! I turned and started flexing, aghast that it was my own reflection that showed such a physique. My mind was reeling. I made my way home. When my shirt and shorts felt tighter during my workout, I assumed my sweat was causing the fabric to stick to my skin. But as I walked home, I could feel the shorts tightening around my bigger thighs. The sleeves on my t-shirt were bunching around my upper arms. Was I still growing? Some drivers were turning their heads as they drove by. I picked up the pace so I wouldn’t cause an accident. By the time I got home, my clothes were skin-tight. You could see my substantially bigger muscles through the fabric. I peeled them off and looked in the mirror, where I had stood just a couple hours prior with far less muscle packed on my frame. I now looked like I had been a gym rat for years, almost ready to compete in a junior bodybuilding tournament. I had definitely grown since I left the gym. But after spending fifteen minutes looking over the changes in the mirror, I could say for sure that the growth has stopped. This must have something to do with the underwear Madame Garmand had sold me. I was thrilled with the changes and the hardon I sported under the stretchy material agreed. But I wondered how much bigger I would get. How much bigger I wanted to get… That’s when I heard the keys turn the lock at the front door. Erik was home, and it was time to show him how I had changed. “Hey, I’m home. How was your day?” Erik said as he set his things on the table by the door. “How do you think my day went?” I asked as I stepped out of the bathroom in just the new jockstrap. “I… you… what? How did this…” He could only stammer, his brain trying to process how his boyfriend’s head was now on the body of this Adonis. “So, you like it?” I said with my best sexy voice and grin. “Yeah I do! How did this happen?” “I talked to a friend who pointed me in the direction of someone who could help us get out of this rut our relationship has been in. I didn’t know it would be… this” I said as I flexed my biceps. “You’re sexy as hell now, that’s what happened! You’re like my fantasy guy come to life! You were always good-looking, but this is a whole other level!” I saw how much Erik liked this enhanced version of my body and I went with it. “Well come over and feel this whole other level.” That was the only prompt Erik needed. He was all over my new body. Feeling his way over every new inch of cobblestone that covered my torso. I flexed my arms and he would gasp, feeling the peak of my bicep and swooning. It wasn’t long before we were making out on the bed, with his body on top of mine. It felt like he was trying to feel every inch of me with as much of his body as possible. Things got steamier as time went on. With all the groping and flexing, I was starting to heat up and get sweaty. Erik pulled away from our make out session and looked at me with a puzzled look on his face. “flex you arms again.” “You want to see your big man’s muscles again” I said in my sexy voice and threw my arms up in a double bicep pose. Erik looked a little shocked “you’re getting bigger!” I jumped up and stood in the mirror next to the closet. He was right, I was now just as big as some of the biggest guys I had ever seen at the gym. “Tell me exactly what happened today” I retold the events of the day in detail. “So, this jockstrap is making your muscles grow?” “It must be, given all the things the fortune teller said. You did go wild when you saw my bigger size.” “And you do look sexy as hell in nothing but this jockstrap” Erik was now standing next to me, looking me over in the reflection with a sultry smile. His hand was rubbing my abs, which now formed deep lines showing an eight pack most seasoned gym-goers would die for. I looked down into Erik’s eyes, “do you want me to take this off and we can really get it on?” “Hell no! I want you bigger!” I was a little surprised at this, but the more I experienced these growth spurts, the more I liked them. “How big do you want me to get?” I said in my bedroom voice. I walked over and sat on the bed, sinking into the mattress more due to my increased weight. “I want to see how big you can get. But first I want to test something. I think I know how this growth thing works.” He walked out of the room and returned a minute later with a measuring tape. He wrapped it around my arm “20 inches! That already pretty huge!” “Alright. What do you need me to do now?” “Do some jumping jacks or run in place. I want you to get sweaty again.” I did what Erik told me. I started doing jumping jacks while he admired my rippling muscles as they flexed and moved through the motion. After a few minutes of this, sweat was beading on my skin, and after another few minutes Erik told me to stop. He wrapped the tape around my arm again “21 inches! I knew it!” Then he was looking at the tape more closely “you’re still growing! You’re up another quarter inch from just a minute ago. Take the jockstrap off!” I once again did as I was told and slid it down my legs with some difficulty getting over my blown-up butt and thighs. Another measurement revealed the growth had halted. “That must be it then. You grow when you’re wearing this and sweating.” “Eureka! What do we do with this new-found discovery?” I asked while bouncing my pecs and waggling my eyebrows. “Put this back on, then let’s get you sweaty again!” This new, commanding side of Erik was surprising, but I liked it. I slipped the undergarment back on and as soon as I was done Erik pushed me to try to get me on the bed. It didn’t work, as I now outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds, but I played along and fell backwards for him. He straddled my midriff and his hands wandered all over my body. We were making out again while Erik rubbed his hard cock over my abs, bumping his ass into my erection that was trapped inside the pouch of the magic jockstrap. With the making out and rubbing, combined with Erik laying on top of me, it didn’t take long for me heat up and start sweating again. Slowly my muscles crept up in size. I couldn’t see but I could feel larger muscles fighting for space on my frame. It took Erik longer and longer rub the entire surface of my swollen pecs. Erik stopped kissing me and pushed himself up to look at my face. “Let me fuck you. My fantasy has always been to fuck a huge muscle stud.” “Anything you want, big guy” This was my pet name for Erik in the bedroom. I was taller than him at an even 6 feet tall, where he was 5’8”. But the nickname was due to his dick that was a surprising 9 inches long. I wasn’t a size queen but judging by today’s event’s it seemed as though Erik was definitely some sort of size queen. Erik jumped off of me to get the lube. While he did that I looked into the mirror from my position on the bed, and I was now definitely the size of a heavyweight champion, just as big as the Mr. Olympia competitors. I used my finger to guide a drop of sweat down the deep channel between my pecs, down further between the trenches of my abs, and onto the waistband of the underwear. Looking into the mirror, there was a subtle but noticeable surge of growth. Now I would definitely win the title of Mr. Olympia if I wanted to. Erik had retrieved what he was looking for and I raised my legs so he could get to his goal. With me on my back and everything lubed up, Erik started to push big dick into my waiting hole. I shivered as the inches filled me. I was enjoying every moment of it. The growth only added to the experience, the feeling was intoxicating. I was surprised to find that I was turned on by the strength and size of my newly enhanced muscles. Erik was now balls deep inside me and started to slowly move in and out. As he did so I would flex different parts of my body. This drove us both wild. My chest was sticking out on top of my chest and each time I looked at Erik I could see less of him, with more of my field of vision being taken up by my growing pectorals. Erik leaned forward and started licking my nipples. This sent a shockwave of pleasure down my spine. They were never this sensitive before. My pecs being bigger than the size of my head must have changed that. I instinctively moved my head side to side, but my trap muscles had grown so big that it was limiting how far I could move. I closed my eyes to let the feelings wash over me. I could feel the growth surge a little bit. I opened my eyes and looked down as far as I could. Erik was using his hands to guide the sweat on my skin down to the waistband to accelerate the growth. These waves of growth came with waves of pleasure. I couldn’t hold back my orgasm any longer. “I’m… gonnaa… cummmm” I breathed out. A moment later, a dark spot was blossoming on the fabric of the pouch as my stiff 6-inch cock jerked and twitched under its fabric confines. Then a new wave of pleasure hit me like nothing before. My twitching rod started to lengthen and grow. Both our eyes widened in shock. Erik completely stopped moving. Another spurt of cum erupted from my dick, this one larger than the last, and again my cock grew longer and thicker, my balls swelling to the size of chicken eggs. I was lost in these new feelings of growth. Another, larger spurt of cum grew the dark spot on the underwear, and again my dick grew larger. It was now bigger than Erik’s once larger phallus and it wasn’t slowing down. It continued to creep up in size, “it has to be over 11 inches!” Erik yelled excitedly. He pulled out and grabbed the tape measure, lining it up with my dick. “12 inches!” He was so excited by this turn of events. “You’re now a member of the footlong dong club!” My dick let out one last huge eruption. I moaned as the pleasure of my dick swelling wracked my body. The underwear expanded to cover the growing member. My dick swelled and swelled. “Holy fuck. It’s now 18 inches long” Erik said in a raspy voice. He started rubbing his hard dick against my growing python. He finally lost control let loose his own torrent of jizz on the underside of my dick. Then the growth, and the pleasure, went into overdrive. My cumshots were getting bigger as my balls swelled bigger than grapefruits. My cock grew faster than ever, inching up between my massive pillowy pecs. It steadily marched on as I watched it grow past my face. I finally stopped cumming, but it wasn’t until the tip was a few inches above my head that the growth seemed to stop. But it hadn’t. My massive cock was losing its hardness, but the size stayed the same. It was still growing as fast as it was softening. As it softened, the stretch of the underwear pulled the shaft back down over my testicles that were now the size of beach balls. While our focus was on the huge cock that had sprung out of my groin, I was reminded that my muscles had still absorbed sweat during that time. The reminder came in the form of my decreased mobility. I tried to stand up, but my muscles were taking up so much space on my frame that it made movement difficult. My huge shoulders were now so wide that they were touching both sides of the king-sized bed. With some help from Erik, I was able to stand on my own two feet. But between my two feet, and resting solidly on the ground, was my cock wrapped in that navy blue jockstrap. The growth had finally come to a stop. The underwear managed to envelope my gargantuan dick and somehow held everything in place. “This… You… are incredible” Erik was looking over my now-enormous body. I could see a fire in his eyes and I knew this was the spark that had been missing. “Help me get out of this thing?” This shook Erik out of his trance. I now knew why the design of the underwear had included the buckles. I was hardly able to reach them as my muscles fought for space, but I managed to unclip the waistband. Erik helped me remove the musky cum-soaked fabric and allow my dick to sprawl out in front of me. With his measuring tape, Erik determined that my dick was now as long as I was tall. And my back was ever wider than either of the two measurements. “How am I going to get out of here? And what am I going to wear?” “Well, we know this fits you” he said as he twirled the somehow-not-destroyed underwear around his finger. “The rest we’ll figure out tomorrow. For now, let me sleep cuddled on top of my god of a boyfriend. I laid down on the bed and Erik nestled in on top of me. My dick crested over my huge balls that were bigger than I had been this morning and the tip laid on the floor. While I listened to Erik snore happily, I thought about my new changed body and how much I loved it. And how much bigger I might want to get.
  2. londonboy

    Gramps Powered - Parts 1 - Finale

    The thought of a seventy-year old massive muscle monster kept me up most nights. It also kept my cock so hard that I couldn’t roll over or it would have acted like a kickstand and stopped the motion of my body instantly – causing a lot of pain. I wanted a senior bulging daddy to take care of me. I wanted a huge master to keep me in line when I got out of place and the same elder beast to reward me when I did something nice. It was completely crazy, but I craved the disciplining just as much as I longed for the rewarding. I knew I needed the constant positive reinforcement that only a strong, silver-haired, weathered-faced, golden-ager could give. I was a twenty-six-year-old gay man that wanted one thing in life – a humongous senior citizen mentor who would treat me as his boy, his pup, his plaything - all rolled up into one. I became so obsessed with this desire that I became one of the world’s leading chemists, even at my young age – having graduated high school and college within five years and getting my doctorate so quickly that professors at world-renowned universities came to me to learn. I, however, had one goal and one goal only with my newfound knowledge – a gray haired super daddy. I said yes to a very lucrative job with a major pharmaceutical company in southern California under the guise that I was helping them create resources for dermatologists to assist people to stay young and healthy looking. The work they paid me handsomely for was actually child’s play since I already had lots of ideas that would help to accomplish their goals – but it was the work that I got to do in my private lab that fueled me on daily. I was working on what powered my every waking and sleeping moment – my thirst for an enormous senior daddy. As part of my research I frequented gay bars and gyms that catered to older men. I knew that part of my dream coming true depended on finding the perfect man. I wasn’t interested in continuing my work after I attained my goal. I wasn’t interested in creating an army of big older men; I just wanted one muscled daddy that would rock my world. I think half the fun of my research was ‘interviewing’ potential candidates, since it gave me a smorgasbord of hot elder men to dream about at night. Many guys didn’t cut the mustard because of their attitude. There were a lot of elder men out there that only wanted a younger man so they’d have a companion. That was all fine and good, and I respected those people, but I wanted more from my elder muscled god. Don’t get me wrong, I certainly wanted to please and service him, but I also wanted him to demand a lot from me. I wanted a teacher, a coach, a guide, a trainer – in short, I wanted a muscled gramps. It took me only a year and a half to land on the perfect formula for accomplishing my goal. It took me longer, however, to find the right man for the job. I knew the stuff I had created would only change a man physically and that meant the interior self of my daddy needed to be there already. Sure, the added size and strength would definitely impact the guy’s attitude, but I knew there had to be certain characteristics in place prior to the change. A certain desire needed to already course through the veins of my elder god. My search was getting a little frustrating and almost discouraging until I met Mr. Dennis – Mr. Randy Dennis. I met Mr. Dennis on his seventy-first birthday. He was celebrating with some friends at Wrinkles, a neighborhood bar that catered specifically to older men. In the beginning, I had been mistaken for a hustler in the bar, but since I had gone there so often by this point I was now considered a regular. Mr. Dennis was there for the first time; a small entourage of friends had forced him to go out for his special day. I started to ignore the group and the birthday boy after taking a long gander at them and deciding they were all too young to become my desired daddy. Mr. Dennis, himself, looked to be in his late fifties or early sixties – a great age, in and of itself, but not old enough for me. It was only after I heard one of his friends threatening to offer him the obligatory seventy-one spankings that I sat up and took notice. The birthday boy definitely had a lot going for him. He clearly had a well-made body that seemed to still be in pretty good shape; something that definitely caused him to look younger. I used the huge mirror on one of the walls of the bar to get a good look at his smiling face and that’s when my cock started to pulse as strong as my heartbeat. All of my life an elder man’s face had been one of my biggest turn-ons. Mr. Dennis had that endured look I loved so much – crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes, masculine wrinkled brow, sexy receding hairline, indented jowls that still looked firm, and the beginnings of age spots that only complimented his look. It was the perfect graying of his hair that really got me going, though. He had dark hair everywhere, except along the temples and running around the entire edge of his closely cropped cut. It was always the look that actually sent my cock into spewing mode when I was imagining older men while beating off. When the man smiled he had great un-perfectly-whitened teeth. There was nothing fake about the guy and it was clear he was proud to be the age he was – even though he really looked a lot younger than seventy-one. My toes literally curled up in my shoes when I heard him speak. It wasn’t this deep voice that I had always dreamed of, but it was powerful and almost bossy – much more to my liking than what I had fantasized about in the past. The guy was giving his friends grief over making him do a shot and it sounded like a teacher scolding the entire class. I was in heaven – the man was definitely confident and already sounded a little coach-like. I stared more closely at the guy as I focused on the group’s conversation more. He was in pretty good shape, it seemed – still sporting a tapered look that was usually reserved to guys a third of his age. The guy’s chest actually bumped his shirt out a little – pecs pushing against the material even though I could tell they weren’t as hard as they used to be. He probably had that slightly droopy beef look that older men got as their muscles aged. His arms definitely filled out the sleeves of his shirt, but I could tell the triceps weren’t as firm as they once were. After he and his pals downed the shots that had been placed in front of them, the elder man actually wiped his mouth with the back of his hand – in that rough way, which was usually reserved for cowboys, construction workers, or bare-knuckle fighters getting rid of blood. I felt myself swallow hard as I watched him make the masculine move. It was the next moment that confirmed this was the elder man I had been looking for all these months. The guy took his full beer, downed it in one long gulp, and then let out the loudest burp I had ever heard. It actually made the entire bar go silent and every head turned in his direction. The act in and of itself was kind of repulsive, but when the spotlight was put upon Mr. Dennis in this awkward way, he simply raised his hands in a ‘what’s a guy to do’ sort of way and then spoke to everyone loudly. “Sorry, gentlemen, but I think within me there’s an aggressive Neanderthal beast just dying to escape. I feel like an ape that wants to pound wildly on his chest. I apologize for my behavior.” That clinched the deal for me. It was those words that grabbed my heart in the kind of vice-grip that happens very few times in one’s life. I felt the rush of euphoria that Dr. Frankenstein must have felt when his monster came alive. I tried to envision Mr. Dennis with about a hundred pounds of more densely packed bulging muscles. I imagined him with the kind of body that couldn’t be contained in mere shirts of other mortals. He’d need sleeveless tops – allowing for his massive biceps and triceps ballooning out in ways that would give him that ‘move out of my way’ look of giant musclemen. For some reason, I also envisioned him in cut-off blue jean shorts usually reserved for southern women or skinny junior high boys. His, however, would be stretched-to-the-max above bulging thighs and loose around the skinny waist. My mind then went to the stubbly fur that would constantly cover the lower part of his face – being unable to shave enough times during the day to remove what his testosterone-laden body would churn out daily. Randy Dennis would definitely be one of those handsome elder grizzlies that was perfectly comfortable totally nude or covered in a tight tuxedo – realizing that even covered up his body still looked hot-as-hell. While I was imagining all of this, the man, himself, had walked up to the bar beside where I sat to order another beer. We caught eyes and he did that manly up-tick of his chin and smiled to say hello. The opportunity of the moment emboldened me. “Happy birthday. Might I give the birthday boy a kiss?” “Sweetheart, I could be your great grandfather!” “Ah, trying to turn me on, are you?” I quickly responded, catching him off guard. “Would this so-called mouth to mouth moment involve any tongue, young man?” “Only if you instigated it, sir.” Maybe it was the shot and the beers, maybe it was because it was his birthday, or maybe it was just because I am, what a lot of people would consider, most handsome – but the older guy leaned toward me and placed his perfect lips against mine. On some level, I registered the whoops and hollering that came from his comrades, but I kept my focus on the beautiful, manly, worn face as it moved in to mine. I was surprised to see that he kept his eyes open, as well. It was the kind of kiss that would have had sparks shooting out everywhere or lightning bolts flashing if this had been a cartoon. I instantly knew the connection was not one-sided, either. The widening of his eyes told me he felt the electrical-like jolt, too. He pulled back quickly. “Fuck, what was that?” Mr. Dennis asked with an astonished face. “Fate,” I replied. “Who knew fate could feel so good.” “May I buy your beer, birthday boy?” “With lips like those, dinner would be better, handsome?” His comment caught me off guard. I started to speak, but my mouth just dropped open wide and I stared at him. Damn, his face was gorgeous – even in the midst of being dumbfounded by him I could admire his looks. Jade colored eyes with flecks of gold in them were emphasized by the light green perfectly crisp linen shirt which complimented his still wiry elder body. His clothes were expensive – I could tell – and that excited me in a way I had not anticipated. Maybe I was turned on by the fact that my future super-powered gramps was secure and established. I forced myself to return to the present moment and tried my best to react to his roundabout invitation to dinner. “How ‘bout it, stud? Care to take an old man to dinner for his birthday?” “I would . . . I would . . . like it more than . . . than…” “Spit it out, son.” “More than anything, sir.” “Fuck, no need to be formal, son. Quit with the ‘sir’ stuff. It makes me feel old. Call me Randy.” “I’m Thomas. It’s great to meet you, Randy.” “Likewise. I have expensive taste, Thomas. Sure you want to take me to dinner?” “Only if drinks at my place can follow,” I replied, having regained some of my bravado from earlier. “Damn, you’re a slick one, Thomas. You don’t need glasses do you, pal. You do know that I’m seventy-one, today, and you’re – let me guess – twenty-four?” “Almost twenty-seven.” “Damn, a cute spring chicken. No telling what the boys, over there, are going to call me behind my back when I leave with you. Let me go tell them goodbye and you take out that phone of yours and make reservations at some very nice expensive French restaurant. This is already turning into a birthday I will never forget. He had no idea how right he was. I was going to make sure it was a night we’d both always remember.
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