Terrence "Terry" Lansing was as per the usual going about his daily life - the awful wedded life. His wife Clara was never around, preferring to be out and discussing with other rich, well to do men and women about the day to day occurrences of their little vista and surrounding enclave. He would've suspected an affair if only he could believe anyone was capable of stomaching Clara. She had not always been in such a state, and he'd in fact had two kids with her.
Shane, the elder of the kids at 22, was a handsome, well to do college jock, enjoying the fruits of his physical and mental labors. If he failed for some odd reason - the lad was enormous and a prime linebacker - he could always enter of course the back up career of anyone in his lot in life; the businessman. Shane was despite the stereotype an amazingly bright young man, shrewd and apt in mental disciplines. It just so happened he enjoyed the typical jock activities of rampant sex and misbehaving with his "bros".
Mary was the younger of the two, in her sophomore year in high school, something of a feminist firebrand who led any charge on social issues relevant to her. Terrence was proud of the little activist his daughter was becoming, even though he was more alike Shane when he was in college. Terrence did not like the reflection upon himself that Shane provided, wondering just how insufferable he himself had been in the course of his life.
He sighed, overhearing Shane and Mary arguing yet again over one issue or another. He did not have the time in his day for this. Well, he did, but he didn't want to deal with it. So he went out to try and check to see if the mail was there yet. He had ordered something on Amazon, such that even when every hour it hadn't gotten there, he still felt justified in leaving the trouble within the house to go check.
Terrence remembered when he was just Terry to his friends, and living life on a permanent high from coming from a rich family, being fit, tall, handsome and charming. Now? Now he was just dumpy and lacked initiative due to the million other things going on in his life.
So when he saw that odd package on the doorstep, laying there oh so innocuously, he picked it up and took it up to his room, past the living room and the continuing argument therein. He entered his room and cut the box open, seeing instead of anything he ordered, a pair of little, prone dice. "...What the fuck are these?" He asked aloud. He could feel something odd as he picked them up.
He sighed and threw them on his bed - the "result" coming up 5 and 5.
That was when he felt it start. He thought it was some sort of health crisis, and pinned himself up against one of his bedroom walls, grunting in pain and surprising pleasure as he felt his skin erupt into a crawling sensation that quickly covered his whole form. His hairline, receding due to stress, began a recovery, gray hairs turning back into healthy brown hairs. His blue eyes looked around and he swatted his glasses off his face.
His body was...burning! He choked down a scream, a shout, some sort of vocal reaction, not wanting people to see him right now. He felt a sudden outpouring of strength and tore his shirt asunder, seeing instead of his paltry "dadbod" a pair of sweltering pectorals only just slightly diminished from full size, a core tight and strong, numbering six abs total, obliques almost looking cut into his form. His shoulders pressed out like spherical boulders, leading into biceps complemented by the swoop of a tricep. His back grew out into a wide set of lats and a strong foundation of a lower back - his waist got smaller as the muscles around it grew larger and wider.
His legs felt hellishly confined in his jeans, and so he discarded them to, collapsing forward and kicking the jeans off haphazardly. His skin felt renewed somewhat, still weathered and such, but not quite so badly as before. He stumbled into his bedroom's attached bathroom, looking into the mirror and seeing a handsome, well muscled stud just into his 30s.
Terrence had been 41. He was now 31. He stood naked but for a pair of boxers that were now basically painted on to him, looking far more lewd than they ever had before. He cupped his pecs, felt his abs, flexed his arms...felt his cock harden. Felt the rush of sheer libido. The stud in the mirror moaned loud, and his hand rushed over and over on his cock.
"I'm...I'm hot again!" Terrence...no, Terry laughed to himself as he continued with his self pleasure and exploration of his glorious body. He looked back at the bed, where the lots were still laying. He licked his lips.