"What do you mean you're still getting older!?"
Frank had collapsed onto a sofa in the living room, currently having an existential crisis, and dropped that bombshell on George. He snapped back at his friend "I meant exactly what I said! I was definitely younger than thirty before I phoned you up, and now I must be older than my parents! I'm... I'm putting on weight, getting gray hairs, and even my hair's falling out... Look!". Frank ruffled his head and a shower of short hairs rained down around him. "I'm still getting older and I don't know why or when it'll stop and it's scary...". Frank felt panicky, shortness of breath, and like everything was closing in on him. Although he couldn't tell if that was just because his clothes were squeezing his body in all directions. Either way, he was having a terrible experience.
George felt sympathy for his friend.He didn't think about it before but Frank did look different now compared to how he looked only 15 minutes ago. He really needed to get home before his mom did, but he couldn't just leave his friend in this state alone... George patted him on the shoulder and made shushing sounds in an effort to calm him down. "It'll be OK, we'll find a way to stop all this happening... But how in the heck am I supposed to help out? I don't know anything about science or magic, and don't forget that I'm still only a seven year old kid!"
It's true, Frank wasn't even sure if it was the pool water that made him older or if it was just a coincidence. He did put on some new sun cream beforehand, and he did eat some expired candy he found under his bed, plus he did own some lamewads in Fortnite who could have a reasonable grudge on him. Sure they all seem mundane but so did swimming in the pool... He felt a gurgle in his growing stomach and looked down. His shirt had slid up and exposed his hairy belly, no longer able to contain its size. He also realised he was dangerously close to outgrowing his jeans. Frank grabbed a pillow and pulled it into his lap, then said "Well for one thing, you could get me some clothes that fit... I don't exactly want to end up in rags in front of you..."
George gaped at his friend. "What? Where would I even get something like that? You already know you're fatter than your dad now, no offence"
Frank rolled his eyes. It was true, but he didn't have to say it... "Duh, your dad's pretty fat, I'm sure his clothes will fit me just fine. I'd come with you, but I'm 110% sure I'll rip these clothes if I move from this sofa...". Even now, he could feel the seams splitting around his shirt.
George's father wasn't a slim man by any means. He didn't want to steal from him though. Yet he couldn't expect Frank to go naked, especially if he looked anything like his dad in the nude... "Ugh, fine. But only because I'm worried about you. I'll be back before you know it!". He leapt off the sofa and ran for the front door.
Frank waved his friend goodbye, waited a few moments to make sure he really was gone, then grasped onto his shirt and yanked it off his body with a loud rip. He stared at the overstretched cheeseburger graphic on the fabric in his hands, to think it actually fit him only half an hour ago... He tossed it to one side, then tried to do the same with his jeans. His thighs were already busting through the seams on the side so it was surprisingly easy to tear them away, along with his boxers. He tossed all the rags into a corner and spread out on the sofa with a content sigh. After being confined to such tight clothes, it certainly felt freeing to be completely naked again. It almost made him feel less anxious, until he looked down at his furry, chubby torso. Frank noticed with some disappointment that his increased flabbiness had led to his cock looking significantly smaller in comparison. He grabbed at the chunky belly he'd developed and gave it a shake. It wobbled slightly, yet he could tell there was a decent amount of muscle still hidden under all that flab. He'd just have to go on a crash diet when he stopped aging, and he'd look as brawny as he did when he was in his twenties. If he stopped aging...
Frank pulled himself off the sofa with more effort than he would have needed when he was a boy. Man, getting older really did suck... Then he walked upstairs to grab a towel from the bathroom, ready to wrap himself in something before George got back with some proper clothes. But before he did that, he stopped and stared at himself in the mirror again. He had to be more than a decade older compared to when he got out of the pool, around 40 years of age if he had to take a guess. Why was he still getting older despite being as dry as a bone? His beard had grown another half-inch in all directions, looking like a wild animal stuck to his face. Especially with the streaks of white swirled throughout. It was more than obvious that he was balding now. A 2 inch-wide island of hair was all that was left of his previous hairline, as it had receded back on both sides to rest at the top of his scalp. He ran a hand over his thinning locks and could feel a substantially large bald patch at the very back of his scalp. And it looked like all that hair had evacuated his head so it could cover the rest of his body. He truly was super hairy now, with nary an inch of smooth, hairless skin visible below the cheeks. Frank turned to the side and placed a hand on his stomach. His torso looked wide all the way around. His pecs sagged downwards slightly, resting quite happily on his larger belly which stuck out a fair amount. Though staring at the size of his large, beefy ass, it seemed it wasn't just his waistline that destroyed his jeans. He really was just thick all around.
Yet despite all the significant changes, Frank couldn't help but crack a smile. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but he looked a whole lot like his uncle Barry at the moment. They were probably similar ages now too. Biker Barry is what his dad calls him, since he travels up and down the country on his motorbike. The thought comforted him in this turbulent moment. Knowing that he looked a lot like his uncle was something very meaningful to him. He loved his uncle. Frank scratched at his beard, picturing himself just like his uncle. It was something he'd fantasised about before, he wasn't going to lie. Riding down Route 66 on his trusty motor, the freedom of the country all at his fingertips. Hanging out in bars and drinking with the other bikers... Hold on! Frank's eyes snapped open at that thought. Back when he first dived into the pool, he accidentally swallowed some of the pool water! More importantly, it didn't taste like chlorine in the slightest but was rather metallic. He didn't think of it at the time, but what if the pool water really was contaminated? That must be why he was still growing older! Heck, that could be why it started in the first place! But there was no way of proving that without drinking more of it, plus he still wasn't sure how to make it stop. He certainly couldn't drink any more of it, but who could...
Frank tugged on his beard in thought a little more before coming up with an idea. He hurried down the stairs and into the kitchen, grabbing a clean glass and taking it outside to the pool. He stuck his arm in and scooped out a hefty amount of water, almost to the top of the glass. He gave it a big whiff and his eyes widened. It didn't even have that distinct smell of chlorinated water! Which would make it far easier to pass off as tap water. But did he really have the guts to give George a glass of pool water when he returned, just to test a theory?