Chapter 3: The Invitation

Marty watched the gorgeous woman in the rocking chair.

She had started it again, and it took him a moment to realise that it was rocking itself. He watched as her lovely tits swayed gently with the motion. He’d met his share of lovely women, but this one really turned him on. Her relaxed yet sexy pose was just begging him to come over there to kiss and fondle her.

He thought of what he wanted to do with her. He wanted one of those tits in his mouth for starters. She had rested her foot as she had when he first arrived. The itch to run his hand up that thigh to investigate what was hidden by the sarong was strong. He felt his cock thicken as he wondered if the hair down there was shaded as dark as the auburn hair on her head.

He snapped out of his review when she laughed softly. His eyes went back to her face in question. “Boy, you keep staring at my cunnie like that and I just might let you have your wish,” she said with a throaty chuckle.

Marty found himself blushing furiously, something that he didn’t do very often these days. He took the last swallow of his beer. It was very unusual for him to get lost in a fantasy over a woman he had just met, certainly not as easy as he just had. Something about her was tickling his fancy and stirring up his desire-meter something fierce.

He returned his thoughts to what she had told him. “Let’s say that you are Mary May. How did you say you made yourself look old again?” he asked.

He looked at her and then blinked a couple of times. “What the fuck?” he expelled as his eyes widened more in shock.

Her hair was streaked with silver and age lines had appeared on her face and neck. She held up a hand, and the soft, supple hands now had a thin knurled look, wrinkles and age spots. Her lovely tits seemed to hang lower, and little wrinkles appeared on her upper chest. Then he blinked again, and she looked like she had moments before.

He shook his head. ‘Damn I must be more tired than I realised,’ he thought. “How did you do that?” he asked her.

She shrugged. “Sweetie, I can do a lot more than trick your brain into believing what you want to see. Oddly, young children are the hardest to fool,” she said reflectively.

“Did you do that changing thing with the ring?” he asked. He then thought it was a stupid question and could have kicked himself for being gullible enough to be dragged into her fantasy.

She shook her head as she looked at the ring. “No, it has a mind of its own. I don’t know why it wanted me to show you it’s true self. That was very odd. You are now one of a very small number of people that I’ve ever shown the ring too.”

“Why me? Why do you think you can trust me with the secret?” he asked.

He had felt a strange feeling creeping over him when she had shown him the ring. Yet he hadn’t put it down to anything that the ring could do. Then again, how can a ring do anything? He wondered if he was dehydrated or maybe he had a bit of sunstroke. He did know that this was the weirdest conversations that he had ever had.

Again, she shrugged before saying, “I don’t know the full why, but I do know that it does, and it has a reason for why it wants you to know about it. It must assume that it can trust you.”

Frowning, he then asked, “Something I don’t understand. If you have looked as good as you do now for the last sixty-plus years, why have you never married?”

Mary chuckled and replied, “I think you answered your own question.”

Marty was watching her lovely titties when she laughed. It wasn’t helping his cock stay flaccid. As far as he was concerned, her looking not much older than she did now by the time he got to eighty would be awesome. “So, you have never told any of your lovers that you don’t age the same as them?” he asked more than stated.

She shook her head. “Nope, I nearly married when I was about thirty, but things didn’t work out. So, I don’t tend to keep my lovers around for more than a few years at most. If they get clingy or bossy, I move them on.”

He frowned, “Didn’t you love any of them enough to keep them and tell them of your secret?”

She frowned in return, “Actually, no. I never found it hard to move them on. I guess I can’t love like other people either. I was fond of a few of them, but not enough to keep them. The fact that I’ve never had a child by any of them, probably helped most of them leave.”

“That’s sad,” he said. After a few moments, he said, “You could have adopted.”

Mary looked at him, surprised, “If your wife couldn’t have kids, you’d do that?”

It was his turn to shrug, “What goes around comes around. My parents adopted me and loved me very much. I lost them to a drunk driver when I was fifteen and had to live with my adopted mother’s mother. I’d like to think that my wife if I ever have one, would consider adoption as an option if she couldn’t have kids.”