Bert realized the first order of business had to be acquiring a new wardrobe. Going through a few of his clothes, just to see how they sized up now felt like putting on the clothes of a child. He tried on a few shirts and they were comically small on his new frame. He had been so...short before. He realized that he was short, what with everyone towering above him most of his adult life. But now he felt like he had practically been a midget!
Hours later, he was carrying any number of bags from the shopping mall. The many girls he had approached for help with sizing were only too happy to attend to his needs. In fact, he had never had anyone in a store help him that quickly in his life. The girls were practically bouncing as they approached him. The dressing room had presented another problem. It wasn't such a little problem, either. A large bulge that was significantly more noticeable than anything he had dealt with in his old body. What should he do with it? Should he try to wear pants baggy enough so that it wasn't as visible or should he go with something tight to show it off? Did he want women everywhere to see what an enormous asset he had down there? It couldn't be too tight or it could get obscene. Just because he could fit into skinny jeans now didn't mean he should wear them!
Decisions, decisions...he settled on a few items that really showed off his cute body, but most of his new haul he chose for comfort. A few shirts would definitely show off his new tight body, his muscles, his abdominal muscles. A shirt that actually showed off his belly button. People would wretch in public looking at him before if he had thought of wearing something this ostentatious, he thought. But hey, if you got the goods, you should spread him around some, like they always say. He tried on a few items that would make a stripper blush. The fact that he was even trying on and then looking around in paranoia that someone might see his choice, silver-blue lycra short shorts that hugged his dick, made him turn beet red in embarrassment when he got to the counter. He fumbled to get out his credit card and hand it to the girl. She stared at him for longer than girls normally stared at him. He felt like a schoolboy again. He was at a loss for words. He tripped over his words.
"Obviously, it's for home. It's not really for stepping outside, you know. I don't need that much attention," he told her unnecessarily.
"That's a shame. I'd like to see you try them on," she said while seductively running his card through and handing it back to him as if to say "Please take me away to a deserted island and fuck me for eternity".
He had to remember to swallow. He was both elated and terribly out of his league, he thought, numbly walking outside.
He was fairly certain he was still attracted to women, but he had a sinking suspicion when he left the hospital that something was off somehow. It was confirmed in the mall. Bert walked in a daze. He had spent decades with a woman that didn't give him much attention. He had gotten used to looking away from young people he was attracted to but now he was downright staring. The lights along the mall seemed brighter than they had before. The colors were more intense. There were girls...such cute girls. And he noticed some of their boyfriends as well. He sat down and people watched for some time, before realizing that he had to prop a bag on top of his crotch and pretend to look inside until Mr. Happy could settle down some. Right now, it had a mind of it's own!
There was nothing in this kid's file about him being gay. In fact, they had specifically asked him and he had identified as straight. So why was he suddenly feeling like he wanted to dance and sing like a gay little hobbit in a field of flowers with some of these adorable boys? And why was that particular image going through his head? He shook his head in confusion.
When his dick deflated, he bolted for the parking lot. He came home and changed again. It was close to evening now. He popped open a bottle of wine and helped himself. He was only 81. He deserved to have a little fun now and then. He wore his new clothes and modeled for himself. He looked like an abnormally good looking teenager who had just stepped out of a magazine. He quickly shot a query to the body swap clinic about his sexuality and wondered if anything had gone wrong. At this point, he wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth. In fact the horse was fine. The horse had a dick that was living up to its reputation!
But he did want answers.
The next day, he was feeling like an impersonator. He was used to wearing suits like a grown adult and now he didn't have any that fit. It behooved him as a man who was looking to get things done to buy more formal attire. He really was having a blast modeling suits for himself. The attendants looked at him like he was the main course at a bachelorette party. Licking their lips. It was weird to see women licking their lips. He had never felt an energy or a sexual power like this before. Every little nuance in people's behavior had switched suddenly from "what a cute old man" to "here's a pile of sex ready to go". He was becoming less self conscious with every minute.
He felt more comfortable with a dress shirt and navy suit and no tie. And he didn't have to really wear it to feel like a million bucks. This body was probably worth a million. But...he had to take care of it. He felt each abdominal muscle individually underneath his shirt. He was walking next to a park watching teenagers playing frisbee when it occurred to him that he would have to keep up his appearance through fitness and he was really out of practice. But now, it could be a dream. He could finally be one of the hot men that strutted about like peacocks after a glass of bourbon. Man, he could really go for some bourbon, he thought. And sex. Fucking some bitch on my bed like a whore and making her scream my name...
He blinked. These thoughts had been going through his head. They started off tame and then all of a sudden his hormones were racing with fantasies, with increasing...libido. With both girls and boys. But with boys he had no idea what to do with them. He had no history with homosexuality so he just pictured himself playing with them in the park, eating ice cream together, dancing naked in the rain...or fucking some cute muscular jock right here on a public park bench.
He blinked and shook his head. No. Homeless people slept there. What was he thinking? His thoughts were all about sex, sex, sex! He was being besieged by a new obsession with sexual conquest. How was he ever going to get anything done? It wasn't a problem he'd had before, but it was a lot better to have this problem than arthritis, he thought, with a smile on his face...until he saw the meter maid giving his car a ticket.
"Oh come on! I was late by only two minutes! I was just about to put a quarter in!"
"Sorry. Rules are rules." She was a big light skinned black woman with slick curly hair. Pleasantly plump.
"Did anyone ever tell you that you look like a Rubens painting?"
"A what now?"
"Like a vision. Did you know in the Renaissance, women with big bazooms were not as in vogue? It was all about the *ample* look. The look of a maternal goddess."
"Well this is new. Keep goin'." The meter maid replied, crossing her arms.
"Fertility was celebrated. Plump women were very highly sought after. What are you doing later? Let me take you out to dinner."
"So I won't give you a ticket?" She looked at him disbelievingly.
"You're beautiful when you don't believe me. You just need to spend more time with me? Where is all this coming from? It's like I'm on a drug."
"Oh good, so you're on drugs."
"Oh no, I just got this body. I don't intend on doing drugs with it," he assured her.
"Ohhhhh, so you a body swap. Good bye!"
"Wait! What's your name?"
"Marlene," she said annoyed. "And I've dated body swap guys before. Hell to the no on doing that again. She looked like a man but she did not know what she was doing and she was a bitch. Didn't know how to control that testosterone."
"You know who you remind me of? This jazz singer I used to watch down in Boca Raton every summer."
"Oh okay, you old," she concluded.
"Not anymore!"
"Good luck, Grandpa!"
Dejected, he took his car down to the beach. The weather was perfect. He walked down the pier. He had walked down this pier so many times before and somehow the waves had never been so beautiful. Mainly because they were filled with athletic bodies he could observe from up high. They were a lot more erotic now. Were they more erotic now? Were they purposefully showing off their glorious bodies in the surf just for him? No, his body was just being pumped full of hormones and his dick and heart felt like a freight train going top speed every time someone beautiful really got his gears going.
There was a whole boardwalk along the beach. He walked appreciatively past various shops and performers trying to attract a dollar here or there. A gaggle of girls caught his attention. One had tanned skin and a huge mess of golden-brown hair with curls going all over. And black eyeliner. She was a vision. His heart nearly stopped.
"Claire, I swear. You need to listen to me. Dumping him was the best thing for you. You can concentrate on yourself now," the golden-hair said to her friend.
"Yeah, I know but I miss him."
"He was trash. Find a man whose worthy of you! Know your own worth!"
"You're right. Men are garbage." The petite one with black hair noticed the beautiful young man in a suit. "No offense," she added with a nod of her head.
"No, no offense taken. You deserve to have a gentleman in your life."
"That is true, handsome stranger. And who might you be?"
"Who me? Oh my name is Bert. Bert Thaler. How do you do?" He extended a hand to shake hers gently, warmly, then her golden-haired friend.
"Very charmed. So are you looking for a job? You're all dressed up."
"I...just like to dress up in a suit. It's what I'm used to," he admitted. "I might be a little overdressed. I do have lots of casual clothing just so you know."
"Very good to know," golden-hair added.
"Yeah, you know. It just felt like today was special and I wanted to celebrate. I think I want to celebrate for a solid week!" He couldn't contain his glee.
"What's the occasion?"
"As it turns out, I'm...just...I'm sorry, what's your name? You're a vision. Did anyone ever tell you that you're a vision?"
Claire laughed out loud. She was sitting down but her beautiful friend stood up.
"My name is Madeline."
"Madeline. That's a name for poets."
"He's a pick up artist. I can tell. He has it all down," Claire told her.
"What do I have down? I'm no artist. What you mean like this guy over here?" He pointed to a man on stilts. "On second thought, I guess he's the least likely to pick things up, never mind." Bert rolled his eyes. "Oh, you mean those guys that just go around harassing women by being seedy? No, I don't plan anything. I just say things. I'm like that. You can ignore me. Or not. I don't care. What do you do to get such lovely hair? My god, it's gorgeous. This is very unlike me. I'm sorry. I would normally never approach a beautiful woman. I'm having a very strange day."
"I use a regimen of natural organic soaps and conditioners and my interest is peaked."
"I love peaking interests. Just ask my clients."
"Oh your clients. What do you do again?" Claire was rolling her eyes at this point as Melody became seemingly fascinated by Bert. She was making any number of faces while this was going on.
"Accounting."
"Oh. You don't look that old. You look like you're in high school."
"Oh yeah. Well, good genetics."
"How old are you again?" She summed him up with her
"I'm old enough to make my own decisions in life and stick with them," he said proudly.
"So...18...17?"
"Technically, that's an interesting question."
"Oh God, he's a body swap," Claire moaned.
"How old are you really?" Madeline asked him. Bert looked at her as though hypnotized.
"Old enough to be someone's grandfather?"
"Are you someone's grandfather?"
"Who are you, colonel questions?"
"So yes."
"Okay, yes."
"How old?"
"I remember when TVs only had 3 channels and they got better reception if you kicked them."
"Well. This has been a very educational moment for me. I suppose I should give you my phone number now."
"Your what? Oh. I. Uh."
"What are you DOING?" Claire asked, with a very perplexed look on her face. "No offense, but you're like a hundred."
"I'm 81!"
"Aha!"
"No fair, she tricked me."
"Well that's because we are very tricky."
"That would...make sense." Madeline got her cel phone out and before he knew it they had each other's numbers.
"Bye, bye, Bert. I have to get home. It's a school night. For the record, I'm 20 and I'm a cosmetology student."
"You...you're...cosmic...cosmetic. I'm forgetting to talk."
"Call me tomorrow." She walked away.
***
The next day, he took Madeline out to dinner at a very fancy restaurant. He normally didn't eat out but he could afford to. He just didn't have anyone around anymore that he could really take to dinner. None of his grandkids lived nearby and he didn't talk to his own children. Madeline pressed him on that.
"I want to know all about your family. I've never dated a man with grandkids before."
"Emily is the brightest. Love her mind. She's gonna be a quantum...person. They study all those equations. She'll be making millions by the time she's old enough to drink, I'm sure. She'll invent an apple or something."
Madeline tried not to burst out laughing.
"You know, all those apples on your phone?"
"Yes, I know. App is actually short for application."
"See, I knew that. I'm very hip."
"Uh huh. So about your grandkids. How old are they?" The pasta arrived. Madeline started to eat. She looked very sexy eating pasta. Like an actress. He thought of her eating in slow motion. Her beautiful, gentle lips...
"Well Emily is 16 and she's a super whiz. There's Douglas. He's 18 and going to college next year. I'm very proud of him. He got an academic scholarship. He doesn't go out much. And he needs to cut his hair. It's like a big mat. I tell him whenever I see him. When are you gonna cut your hair? Then there's Jeffrey. He's 25 and he got real fat. It's such a shame. The young people these days getting so fat. What is the world coming to?"
"Oh, it's terrible," she agreed.
"Then there's Jessie. She's the oldest. She's 27 and she's still not married. I tell her darling, I don't have time for this. She's actually my grand niece. I have lots of those. I raised five siblings."
"Wait, what about your children. You skipped those."
"I...did."
"Uh oh!"
"It's not that bad."
"Try me."
"Okay, I have two kids. Boys. Ernest and Richard. Both of them tried to put me in a home. An old people's home! Me! Can you believe that?"
"I can but then I have low expectations for most of humanity."
"Good to know. How am I doing so far?"
"So far, so good. The pasta is excellent."
"Tell me about your family."
"My mother is a body swap."
"Really."
"Yes. You should know that now. My mother is...not really all that maternal. She never was. Anyway, she made a lot of money in real estate and permanently bought herself a man's body roughly the same age in decent shape. He wanted to be a woman. She...He..I should say, is very happy with it."
"And you?"
"I dunno. I don't have a mom anymore. I have two dads and they don't get along."
"That's a very modern problem."
"My dad...my biological dad is a gamer nerd. He loves RPGs and video games and D&D. He codes for a living. Mainly games. He doesn't get out much."
"He should meet my grandson. The one who doesn't go out much."
"I'm sure they would get along."
They ate. They talked more. They looked into each other's eyes.
"I can't honestly imagine a more perfect evening than this," Bert told her.
"I could go home and sleep with you. That would make it better," she said casually.
"I-I-I...hummina hummina. You'll have to uh.. excuse me. A woman as beautiful as you. This is. I'm not. Why...why yes. That would be uh...that is to say."
"Yes. Great. Take me home."
It was dark when they got back to his house. He gently took her coat. He lowered the lights. They sat down on the couch. He offered her a drink but she wasn't thirsty. He sat next to her, suddenly unable to make the first move. She slid her hand over his.
He kissed her gently at first. He awkwardly laid back as she climbed on top of him and took control. They kissed for some time. Bert felt his new friend very strongly protesting his pants.
"I think I'm getting pretty excited."
"I love excited."
In his bedroom he was suddenly spinning. She was undressing while walking around, casually leaving her clothes on the floor. He was numb. She undid his belt and he kicked off his pants. He almost tripped. She ripped his boxers down.
"Oh my. Well you hit the jackpot, didn't you?"
"In a number of ways." She pushed him onto the bed. Wide-eyed in surprise and overwhelmed by his senses, he allowed her to slide the boxers off his legs. She was wearing panties.
She tickled his dick with her tongue. He moaned. She went down on him like a Mexican whore, and he knew from experience they were phenomenal. Waves of euphoria crossed through his brain. He didn't know up from down. He was tripping for sure. It felt like a drug but it was just his newfound youth. This was ecstasy. This body. His muscles strained as her body writhed over his.
She didn't want to swallow, but she pulled out only for him to cream all over her face, bathing her in his cum. He just gave this vixen a creampie. And he couldn't stop!
"Oh god! Oh god! UNNNNNNNNNGH UNNNNNNNNNNH UNNNNNNH!" Rope after gooey rope fell on her breasts and she calmly held his dick until he had spasmed all over her. He had never cum so much in his life!
"I like this body. I want to keep this body," he mumbled.
"Well maybe I can help you with that. Somehow. How long is it yours?"
"Five years. Unless he dies."
She showered while he recovered and gave him a goodnight kiss. She thanked him. She was very matter-of-fact about it. Would he ever see her again?
***
The next day he got a phone call from the body swap clinic. There was a slight dilemma, they told him.
As it turned out, the newfound feelings he had when looking at pretty boys was due to a clerical error. Bert had received some body swap brain sexuality codes meant for another patient. Sometimes if a gay patient was swapping with a straight person and they wanted to retain their orientation the crew would ensure it by programming certain neural nets. It usually wound up making a patient bisexual and he had received the treatment by mistake. They told him they could undo it but it would have to wait several months.
"You know what? I might just keep it. We'll see." He hung up. Who was to say what was going to happen?