Paul moved his piece across the board and wiggled in his seat when he landed on another plus space. "Oooooh, this is exciting!"
Hank scratched his head with a frown. "You actually want to get even older? Ain't you old enough?"
Paul giggled as he leaned towards the game board. "It's a game, silly. It's not like I'm going to be old forever, right?" The black circle shimmered until the symbol "+8" floated on its surface.
His buff body was beginning to deteriorate. He was still a muscular man, but it was harder and harder to keep the body fat percentage down. His pecs grew plumper, his ass got wider, and a spare tire of softness rolled down over his stomach. His prickly beard gained more grey hairs until it had almost turned completely white. His hair shortened as it gradually started thinning up top, leaving him with a sizeable bald patch at the back of his head. Finally, another tattoo scarred his skin, a stylised anchor that lay in the centre of his left pec. He placed a hand on it and said "Well it's better than more piercings." As soon as he said that, he felt his cock stir as the ring inside it grew a bit larger. He was now a dishevelled 48 year old man, and still smiling about it.
Ellis reached passed him for the dice and gave his fist a little kiss. "I could do with a little bit of that luck, amigo. Come on, make me older!".
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While the game continued to proceed in the bedroom, Jack stood outside in the hallway, leaning against the wall and smoking his pipe in annoyance. Now that he'd managed to get that tobacco kick he was craving, he understood why everyone reacted the way they did. However, he still couldn't believe they kicked him out because he wanted to smoke. It was his house, it was his bedroom, so he should've been allowed to do what he wanted. He exhaled a plume of smoke out of his nostrils. He was surprised at how natural the process came to him. He knew how to pack the bowl correctly, how to light the tobacco just right, not to mention how to properly smoke a pipe in the first place. It wasn't like a cigarette, you had to slowly puff on it, careful not to breath it in too fast, before exhaling the smoke out. At least he was right about one thing, smoking his pipe was relaxing as hell. It even tasted better than he expected, a delightful blend of exotic spices. As the tobacco in the bowl eventually extinguished, Jack gathered his stuff and prepared to return to his room.
He pushed himself off the wall and reached for the door handle, wondering when it'd be his time to roll the dice, when a glimmer of light caught his attention further down the hall. Someone had left the light on in the bathroom. A smile spread across Jack's face. Because everyone was in the bedroom with him while he changed, he didn't get to have a proper look at himself. Now he had the time and the solitude. If they wanted him, he was sure someone would get him.
He entered the bathroom and shut the door behind him. It was a small room, with just enough space for the essentials. With Jack being so large, things were a little cramped inside. His dad did always complain about not having room to swing a cat, and Jack finally understood what he meant. Although he still wasn't sure why he'd want to swing a cat in a room in the first place. At least his dad had adapted to this lack of breathing room and installed a large mirror over the sink to create the "illusion of space" as he put it. That meant Jack could see every inch of his manly body at once. He'd seen himself before, of course, but now he had the pleasure of doing so alone.
Under the harsh, fluorescent lighting, Jack had a clearer look at himself. He could even see the faint shadow of shaven hair that surrounded the sides of his head like a halo. It was clear as day that he had less hair than Hank did. He still couldn't believe he was balder than his dad. He rubbed a palm over the stubble and wondered what age he would be when it all falls out. If Hank was losing his hair before he turned 30, there's a chance Jack could start balding earlier than that. He felt his stomach flip, what if he was completely bald by 30? How would he feel about that? Having faced the spectre of hair loss dead in the face, Jack felt acceptance. He didn't care when he would be bald because the rest of him was hairy enough.
Jack examined himself more thoroughly, leaning closer to see the rugged wrinkles that creased his skin. He spun around to see how the hair coating his back was just as thick as the fur covering his front. He flexed his biceps and bounced his pecs, his beard swaying as they danced underneath. He smirked at himself. He was the manliest man he'd ever known. All that fur and muscle made him ooze masculinity. So what if he was bald, it was only another symbol of his overflowing testosterone. He was proud to be bald. And it was all tied together beautifully with the wooden pipe clenched between his teeth.
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Ellis rolled the dice and counted his spaces ahead in advance. "Siete... Ocho... Nueve... YES!" he cried, punching a fist in the air and moving his counter straight onto a plus space. He was positively bubbling as he waited for his turn to appear, only to groan as a +5 floated in the circle. "Damn! I wanted more than that..." he moaned, the familiar feeling of growth happening.
His muscles quickly inflated in size as more dark hairs traversed over his brown body. His pecs puffed outwards into round pillows and black swirls of hair curled across their plump expanse, gathering in the middle to his appreciation. More hair grew down across his chunky abs and several stray hairs found themselves scattered across his shoulders and lower back. His stubble increased tenfold to give him a bristly lower face but didn't grow into a full beard. Instead, his moustache bloomed outwards, spreading across his upper lip to give him a real Selleck of a 'stache. Likewise, a small, triangular soul patch appeared underneath his mouth. He licked the bristles with the tip of his tongue and moaned in agreement. "Oh yeah, me gusta..." he mumbled, as he rubbed the back of his palm along his sandpaper-like cheekbones.
Now he was in his twenties, Ellis felt a bit humbled. At least he was a proper man now. He stroked his beautifully trimmed moustache before handing the dice over to Bob, who was shaking more than anyone had shaken the dice that day.
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Jack grinned like a jackal at the sight of his gorgeous pipe nestled within his large, golden beard. He thought it would have made him look old-fashioned, pipes were more of an old man thing, but it looked damn good on him. How did he look when he was actually smoking though? He pulled out a match and re-lit his tobacco, slowly sucking as the cinders reignited. He exhaled into the mirror, and sighed. It was undeniable, he looked so awesome. Smoking a pipe ruled!
As Jack watched himself smoke, that weird tingly feeling returned. This time, however, it was situated entirely in his crotch, where his pants felt tighter and his bulge seemed more pronounced. Jack recalled how Paul massaging his scalp felt and wondered if he could recreate the feeling. Keeping his pipe clenched between his teeth, Jack stretched up and rubbed his bald head all over. It felt so natural to him by now, like he'd been bald for years instead of merely minutes. He slowed the rubbing motion, then stuck to only using his fingers, and his heart leapt. There it was, that good-feeling tingle. He swirled his fingers over his head, paying special attention to the border where his hair still remained. He closed his eyes and moaned.
Leaving a hand on his head, Jack began to navigate the rest of his body. He brought his free hand down to his beard, scratching and stroking its wild mass. His fingers combed through the long whiskers as if he were stroking a loving dog. His hand dipped lower, eager to explore his mighty pecs. His chest hairs mingled with his beard, his fingers delicately danced over his perky nipples. He gave one a little squeeze and gasped from how sensitive it felt. "F-fuck..." he uttered under his breath. He'd never said the F word out loud before, but it felt incredible. He gave his nipples a few more tweaks, each time he felt that burst of pleasure that spread through his body. Next, he dragged his hand down over his stomach, relishing the feeling of his body hair trickling through his open fingers.
Finally, the main attraction. His fingers fumbled as he undid the buttons on his pants. He yanked them down, stepping out of their roomy interior. He slipped his boxer shorts down and looked at the smoking, hulking muscle bear before him. His cock was a sight to behold. Long and thick, throbbing and rock hard as it slapped against the cold sink. His balls hung low and heavy, and swung with every tiny movement. Jack wrapped a hand around his cock and shuddered heavily. It was like having his head massaged, only so much more intense. Slowly, he rolled his fist up and down his cock, pumping it to a rhythm. Up, down, up down. His motion quickened, growing more intense. He held his breath, and winced as he tried to keep his pipe from escaping his lips. UpDownUpDown. He tweaked one of his sensitive nipples with a free hand, gasping from the added pleasure he felt. He watched as his reflection copied his movements. The big, furry bear before him pumping his cock vigorously and teasing his nipples. He couldn't believe that was really him. He bit the side of his lip, his head heavy with lust. He could barely take much more of it...
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Bob finally dropped the dice on the board and cautiously moved his piece forward. He quivered as he neared the special space that had changed John's life, and almost collapsed in relief when he landed on the minus space before it. Maybe he'll return to being a kid again. He stared into the circle and sighed as -6 appeared. He was so close...
It wasn't the first time he'd gone backwards in puberty that day, and it still wasn't a pleasant feeling. What little body hair he still had around his belly button and underneath his armpits were sucked back into his skin. He felt an odd judder as he rapidly shrunk down to size, his athletic body deflating and returning to its original lankiness. Just as he reached 13, his face gained plenty of new acne. With a sigh, Bob reached for his abandoned shirt, embarrassed by his teen body. Then he passed the dice to the kid next to him. "Here you go, Jack. Your turn." he said in a crackling voice on the verge of breaking.
The kid next to him laughed. "I'm not Jack, I'm Hank."
Bob turned beet red and covered his flushing cheeks. "Oh, sorry Jack... I mean, sir... I mean, Hank!" He slid down his seat in sheer embarrassment as the big, Mexican man beside him cackled like a witch.
Hank laughed too. He knew he looked similar to his son, but they weren't exactly the same. There were some minor differences. His hair was darker, for one. And he had a scattering of freckles across his nose. Nevertheless, he stood up from his seat. "Now where has that boy got to..." he pondered aloud.
"You mean where has that man got to" Paul said with a grin. He cradled little John in his arms, who was dozing off in his secure grip.
Hank ignored him. "You guys wait here, I'll go get him."
Hank left the bedroom and immediately scrunched his nose. Jack sure did go all out with the pipe smoking. Hopefully it wouldn't linger in the house for too long. He didn't want his ex-wife to think he'd taken it up himself. It was hard enough to explain his weed habit. He crept along the hallway, and heard a muffled yell come from the bathroom. He smiled and shook his head. Of course, he was doing what any young boy who'd magically grown into a big buff man would do. Flaunting in the mirror at his reflection. He knocked on the door and asked "Hey bud, you decent?" He didn't hear a response, so he opened the door.
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Jack couldn't hold back any longer. With a mighty roar, he pushed himself to climax. Hot, juicy cum erupted from his cock and splattered against the mirror. His pipe slipped out from his lips and clattered into the sink, spilt tobacco mingling with his plentiful bounty. He thrust his groin into the sink as another geyser of cum sprayed upwards and splattered into his face, dripping into his beard and down his furry body. Upon his final thrust, ropes of cum sprayed up onto his hard belly. Jack let go of his cock, still twitching and spitting gobs of cum onto his abandoned pipe. He leaned on the sink and panted. That was the best feeling he'd ever felt. Was that how adults felt whenever they did what he did? Was this what sex was like? He looked at himself in the cum-stained mirror with a power-hungry look. He was coated in the stuff from his bald head to his furry belly. He wiped a gooey string off of his beard and curiously licked it. It was salty, but not terrible.
"Hey bud, you decent?"
Jack paused in shock. It was his dad... He couldn't see him like this! "No, wait..." he mumbled as he leant towards the unlocked door.
It was too late Hank stepped into the bathroom and paused as he took in the scene before him. His huge, hirsute adult son was completely naked and dripping in his own semen, not to mention it was dripping from the bathroom mirror, the sink, and somehow even the ceiling. He held his breath, shut his eyes tight, and exhaled slowly through his mouth. "Whatever happened in here, I don't wanna know!"
Jack slunk down in shame. "Sorry dad... I didn't know things would get so messy..."
Keeping his eyes shut, Hank shushed "Hey, it's natural for a man to want to explore his own body in the way you did. I fully support that. But I also don't want that image burned into my mind for any amount of time! Just... Just lock the door next time, will ya?" He spun on his heel and left the room. "Oh by the way," he called out from the hallway. "It's your turn! Clean up your business and join us when you're ready."