"Did you get it?" asked Elizabeth Wilkes excitedly, when her husband Roger came through the front door at the end of the day.
"Yes, Ed's Juve connection came through and got us 13 tabs," he answered, retrieving a ziploc baggie with neon orange pills in it. Juve (joo-vee) was a new genetic drug that made the taker temporarily younger. It was sold in bulk in "tabs" which were 5 year doses and also highly illegal. Each tab was $100 and usually lasted for about a day.
"Should we do it tonight?"
"I don't see why not, it's Friday so we have all weekend. But first I wanna get out of this suit and have something to eat."
The two climbed the stairs of their comfortable middle-class home to the master bedroom. They had no children because Roger was adamantly against it. They used all the extra space in their four bedroom home for their hobbies. One bedroom had both of their computers and individual phone lines to access their separate Internet accounts. Another was full of nearly unused exercise equipment, the ab-master was still in the box. The last bedroom was used for storage, extra furniture and also served as the guest bedroom. It hadn't been used as a guest room in a long time and was still set up for when Elizabeth's sister had visited with her daughter.
Paul stripped off his pants and tossed them on the bed next to where Elizabeth sat and watched. She turned 33 a few months ago and was about 5' 8" with shoulder length, light brown hair held back by a headband. She was kind of self-conscious about her weight (she said her hips were too wide) and so she wore loose oversized T-shirts over stretch pants. Her figure was still pretty nice, in Roger's opinion. She was fairly chesty and gaining a little weight had only rounded her DD breasts out a little more.
Roger was 5' 10" and his dark hair was receding slightly at his forehead. He had gained weight too over the years, but just in a slight pot belly. What bothered him is that his legs were getting skinnier and less muscular (sort of bird-legged, he thought). He worked as a middle-manager in a large conglomerate and looked the part. He pulled on some jeans and a polo shirt with a collar.
"What's for dinner?" he asked.
"Fettucine Alfredo and Italian bread," she answered as they left the room.
Dinner was uneventful, although there were long silences while they ate a little quicker than usual. The tension was building and each stole furtive glances at the other, imagining what it would feel like to be young again. It was like waiting for Christmas and almost unbearable. Finally Roger couldn't take it any more.
"I'm done," he said, pushing back his chair. The uneaten portion on his plate was highly unusual, but Elizabeth could tell he was getting excited too. She had been picking at her dinner for about five minutes, waiting for him to get finished.
"Ed said the best way to do this is to drop it into a drink and then sip it down," said Roger, gathering up their wine glasses and carrying them into the kitchen. "I was thinking we'd use the last of the Chianti to wash down our little surprise."
Elizabeth handed him the packet with the Juve in it, and he opened it up and poured a number of them into his hand. "You better go close the front curtains," he said,"we don't want anyone reporting us for using this." She hurried through the dining room and he could hear her sliding the curtains shut. He filled the two glasses with Chianti and "plink" dropped a tab into one. It dissolved immediately. He counted out tabs and dropped them into the other glass. Elizabeth bustled back into the room.
"All ready?" she asked.
"All set," he said handing her a glass. "Here's to youth." And they clinked their glasses and began drinking. Very quickly the wine was drained from the glasses.
"Let's go in the living room," he said, and she follwed him out of the kitchen.
She noticed it first, a tingling warmth all over her skin. It passed all over, but was most intense in her nipples, which stiffened, and between her legs. "Oooh, did you feel that?" she said.
"No ..." he started to reply and then felt a similar warm feeling that also ended intensely at his crotch. He looked at his wife, she seemed more rested, just generally healthier. He guessed that it would take a while longer before she was obviously younger. He had met Elizabeth eight years ago, when she was 25 and he was 28 and was looking forward to seeing what she had looked like before then. They had speculated on what it would have been like if they had met in College or even High School. "I guess we'll find out, sort of, tonight" he thought.
"Your hair!" she gasped, and he raised his hand to his forehead. Way earlier than he was used to, his hand encountered hair! He saw it inch down until it was in front of his eyes. Yesss!
He glanced at Elizabeth to see how much she had changed. She stood up and tugged on her stretch pants. "These fit funny now," she said, "isn't it great?" She had lost the middle-aged Thirty-Something look and would have fit in better with the cast of Friends. The T-shirt looked slightly larger on her than before, although it had originally been so large it was hard to tell accurately. She stretched, arching her back and making her chest stand proudly out. He just stared, she looked like when they had met! Elizabeth noticed his stare and a twinkle shone in her eye as she sauntered over to him, swinging her hips a little more than usual. She bent over in front of his face and said, "I know we just met and all, and I'm not usually this kind of girl, but do you want to go upstairs?" She winked at him and grabbed his hand as he scrambled up off of the couch. When she got to the stairs, she let go of his hand and ran up them. He watched her go up, and then bounded behind her two steps at a time.
She was already in their room when he got to the top of the stairs. When he pushed the door open, the room was dark except for the light in their bathroom. He dragged off his shirt, sat on the end of the bed and pulled off his socks. He could see her shadow as she turned in front of the mirror. He stood up, unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down. The room lightened slightly as she pulled the door all the way open then darkened as she stood between the light and the room. She was still wearing the shirt, but the stretch pants were gone. He could see her bra lying on the bathroom floor behind her. Her sillouhette was lithe and slender.
She stepped toward him and said, "Come here young man!" He moved in her direction and her hands slid around his back. He put his hands on her hips (so smooth!) and ran them up her sides, lifting the shirt as he followed the curve of her waist. She lifted her hands above her head and he pulled the shirt off of her completely. She lowered her hands to his Jockey's, playfully running one hand slowly across the front. Then she grasped the waistband and slid his underwear down toward his ankles. He stepped out of them with one leg and kicked them away. She pressed herself against him. Every feeling from their usual physical contact was there - her breasts pressing against his chest, the hardness of his manhood against her belly. But it all had a greater intensity, like the early days of their relationship. Her stomach fluttered nervously, even though she had been intimate with this man hundreds of times.
He clasped her to him, savoring the sweet scent of her hair and the warmth of her body. Her skin was as impossibly soft as when he had first touched her. Suddenly she broke their clinch and hurried around to her side of the bed and jumped up on it.
"Come on big boy!" she said and he could hear the broad smile in her voice.
He climbed on the bed himself and shuffled towards her on his knees. His hands touched her warm flesh and rose to softly touch her breasts. He cupped them and his fingers brushed her nipples. She shivered and pulled him close.
It was an incredible experience, a flashback to the beginning days of their relationship, and he nearly drifted off the sleep after a climax that nearly made both of them pass out. They had laughed out loud from the pure, intense feeling of it.
After a while, she said, "Let's get back up, it's only 9:00." He agreed and watched her climb out of bed and walk into the bathroom, admiring her sleek figure in the light from the bathroom. Then he rolled out of bed, pulled on his underwear and walked into the bathroom too. Elizabeth had just flushed the toilet and come out into the main part of their bathroom. He hadn't seen her in full light since they had gone upstairs. She looked so young! Maybe 20 years old, maybe. Her face was soft and unlined and her hair had that tousled, just-made-love look. She was glowing. He looked down at her breasts - wow. They were higher and firmer than before, it made them look even larger. They didn't move as much when she moved around. Her waist was thinner than he had ever seen it and the soft curve of her hips was breathtaking, leading to slender legs that went on for miles. He had his own personal centerfold, who was physically 19 or so, and he was married to her! "Life IS good," he thought.
She was gazing intently at her reflection in the mirror, amazed that this young beauty was her. She stretched her arms over her head and watched her firm breasts rise. She looked like she had in College. She peeked at Roger and he didn't look all that different than he had downstairs, about 30. "The Juve must be working faster on me because I'm smaller and I drank my wine faster," she thought. She grabbed her robe and revelled in how tightly she had to cinch the cord to fit her small waist. She adjusted the top of the robe to show off her cleavage. Roger had on his usual flannel robe. "He looks better now than before, but nowhere near as good as me," she thought to herself.
They got a snack in the kitchen and curled up on the couch together. Elizabeth leaned against her husband's firm chest and snuggled in close. He circled his arm around her. After a few minutes of 20/20 though, Elizabeth was bored and restless. She wanted to DO something, not just sit around. She started fidgeting and Roger withdrew his arm to himself. He was still intently watching the report on shady appliance repairmen. "He's kind of boring tonight," she huffed and climbed off the couch. She walked into the kitchen and got the Coke container out of the fridge. Opening the cabinet where the glasses were kept, she had to stand on her toes and really stretch to reach her usual glass. "I guess it's from not wearing shoes," she thought, as she filled up the cup. When she put the Coke bottle back into the refrigerator, the air was cold on her breasts.
"Brrrrr," she said. Her robe must have slipped open when she stretched. She pulled it back closed where it gaped open and tightened up the loose belt for good measure. For some reason she felt naughty and daring for being naked underneath the robe. She had a sense that she had to worry about getting caught wearing only her bathrobe and would get in trouble if someone saw her. Almost shyly, she walked back into the living room and sat next to Roger.
He was engrossed in the show and barely noticed her return. Then he realized she had a drink and he turned and reached out his hand to get a sip of it for himself. When he saw her, he almost dropped the glass! Sitting next to him on the couch was a vision of teenage beauty. His wife now had the appearence of a high school senior. Her face was somewhere between the little girl of her past and the woman she had been only an hour ago. The robe was now several sizes too large and the sleeves sat just a little too far down her arms. She noticed his attention and blushed. He leaned closer to her and kissed her cheek. She put her hands on his cheeks and kissed him deeply. Her enthusiasm was even higher than before, but her technique was rougher, less sophisticated. Her tongue slipped into his mouth and she melted into him. He put his hands on her slim waist as they kissed, but when he moved them up along her sides she stopped him. He slid them back down and then began running them up and down her hips, gathering up the bottom of the robe and sliding it higher. When he got to her bare legs, her hands came down and stopped him again.
He broke their embrace. "I *am* your husband you know," he said.
"Oh, yeah," she replied, giggling "I guess we can do whatever we want!"
This time she was more willing, but still skittish. His hands circled behind her feeling her small, narrow rear. Roger was in ecstasy, she was so gorgeous. It was better than any magazine spread, any video, anything he had seen. Her hips were smooth as butter and she nipped playfully at his lip. Her eyes sparkled with youthful brightness and she radiated health. He pulled the sash of the robe loose and spread open the collar. Her breasts had diminished to C cups and the nipples had gotten smaller and pinker. They stood firmly from her chest. Roger guessed that right now she could passs the famous "pencil test". He licked at the sensitive tips and felt them tighten. He stood up and looked down at her. She put her knees together and coyly gathered her robe closed over her breasts. Her hair was tousled and fell below her shoulders. Then he reached under her knees and behind her back and hoisted her into his arms.
"Roger!" she exclaimed, surprised. He had only picked her up once - on their Honeymoon. His back had always bothered him sporadically, and he had felt twinges then and never done it again. But now she was twenty or thirty pounds lighter than then and it was easy. He carried her gently up the stairs and laid her on the bed. Then he yanked off his robe and rushed to her.
When he had set her on the bed, she had pulled off the robe, but felt self-conscious being naked with the light on and so had burrowed under the covers. She was holding the sheet up so it covered her breasts. She couldn't be more than 16 now. "I have to hurry," thought Roger, "or she'll be too young." He didn't bother to turn off the light, just wrapped her in his arms in a passionate kiss.
She moaned, and he realized it was the sound of a girl aroused, not low and rich enough to be a woman. He touched her between her legs and was sure she was ready. He lay her on her back and moved between her knees. Before he entered, he kissed her tenderly. When he backed away from the kiss, he looked closely at her face. Their earlier romp had worn all of her makeup off and she had the fresh-scrubbed beauty of a girl. Her nose was now smaller and more upturned and her eyes held a curiosity mixed with lust.
This time Roger did fall asleep afterwards. Beth lay on her back and listened to his soft snores. She turned on her side, propped up on one elbow, and touched his face. He still looked like a man of thirty.
"Damn him," she thought,"he must have only taken a little and gave me a lot so I'd be some teenager and he's still an adult." She wondered just how young she looked, it had been an hour since she had checked in a mirror. She retrieved her robe from the floor by the bed and put it on. It hung on her like a sack! The sleeves were down to her fingers and the shoulders were part way down her arms. The hem was at mid-calf instead of near her knees. The front of her robe didn't stick out like she was used to either. She rushed into the bathroom and turned on the light.
"Oh my God," she thought,"this is too much!" A fifteen year old stared back at her. She opened the robe and looked at her breasts. They were small and high. She could see her ribs. "I forgot how skinny I was," she thought. Then she felt the tingling wash over her again. The girl in the mirror diminished another two inches and her breasts got smaller. Her face became more childlike and innocent. More than ever, the girl in the reflection looked like she was wearing her mother's robe. She was about to go back into the bedroom and give Roger a piece of her mind when a wave of dizziness passed over her and the tingling returned again. She faced the mirror and the girl reflected got even younger. Her chin became pointed and her nose got tiny. The robe was a tent and the bottom almost touched the ground. She opened it and saw the tiny pointed breasts and little nipples of Junior High. "No!" she exclaimed and was shocked at the girlish pitch.
She gathered the giant robe around her and walked deliberately back into the room. Roger was still asleep, but that was going to change. She shook him and when it looked like he was starting to rouse, she slapped his face.
"Damn you Roger Wilkes," she shouted, "how could you do this to me!" It was all too much and she began to sob, the unrestrained cry of a child. He sat up and pulled her close to him. Stroking her hair and murmuring comforting sounds to her. After a moment, he lifted her over his legs and onto the bed. "God, she's so light!" he thought. She was comforted by his strong embrace and her sobs subsided. She was quiet for several minutes before he realized she was asleep. He tucked her into her side of the bed. She looked so delicate, her face like a china doll's. But it was the face of a sleeping child instead of the woman that he was used to. He climbed under the covers himself, turned out the light and curled up with her small form. In the darkness he could feel the rapid beating of her heart against his chest He stroked her small head and she snuggled closer and he drifted to sleep himself.
To Be Continued