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Writer's pictureTakeoverTales

Money Is Perfect for the Skin

The suitcase was placed perfectly in the middle of the pale park bench and Winston sat at the edge in his plaid overcoat and crisp tie. The wool bowler hat, like the suitcase, was perfect atop his head and kept the crown of his scalp warm. He wouldn’t have normally been seen out here, he even decided to dress down for the occasion, but even then he stuck out like a sore thumb with his padded shoulders and Louis Vuitton loafers. He particularly hated the groups of young people who cackle as they walked by, screens making the reflection in their eyes become worlds of their own.

“I figured you were old.” Another man in a khaki trench coat stuffed his hands in his pockets after blowing what Winston would have assumed was a gust of stench into his palms to keep them warm. He flopped himself down on the opposite end of the bench, leaning back and spreading his legs in a way that made Winston‘a face curl into an expression of disgust.


”I’m not here to make small talk. I just want the pill.” Winston grumbled without even turning his head. It would have been too much effort for someone like him. A scoundrel who deals drugs. Winston knew, however, that he was the individual seeking the drugs, but even then he refused to entertain the idea that they were the same.


”I’m assuming it’s all here. You’re the only person who has ever made this much of a spectacle.” The suitcase latches bounced open and the dealer peeked inside to see the green bills stacked neatly next to each other with such deliberate care. He immediately closed it to avoid any unwanted attention from those who might see the multiple piles of cash and think that he would be an easy target for theft. What would taking on stack do when there were so many?


”The pills?” Winston tilted his head slightly, a sign that he was starting to become impatient. While he was not going to die while barely exchanging words with this stranger on a park bench, he did have a clock that he was racing against. Every doctor he had been to told him that his situation was less than ideal and in fact gave him only about a year to live even with the best medical care. He scoffed at each one, unable to comprehend how his wealth couldn’t save him, until a doctor flipped a card in his direction. A phone number printed in blue ink and a signature on the back from an unknown individual. The doctor mumbled a few things they understood about the card and then promptly left him to gather his things and leave the premises. A few days later, he made a phone call that rang for much longer than he would have liked until a young man picked up on the other end. Winston assumed the man on the other end of this bench was the same man from the phone.


“Jesus, you should calm down. You’re gonna have all the time in the world with these.” The dealer raised a bottle from his pocket, a clear cylinder with a cork in the top which contained ten blue pills. Winston was now looking over at them with a hopeful glint in his eye that no one had seen in recent years. The dealer held the bottle out and shook the pills slightly so they would clink against the glass. In the light it almost looked as if they were glowing and rejuvenating blue light that made Winston’s skin tingle with excitement.


”Thank you.” Winston held them in his hand before quickly putting the bottle into the inside pocket of his jacket against his breast for safe keeping.


“Ten lifetimes, you lucky bastard.“ The dealer stood up as he shook his head, but Winston was no longer on the bench. With his head down, he had already begun walking away from the scandalous drug deal that would have made his mother turn in her grave.


At home, his maid met him at the entrance, but when she extended her hand to take his coat and hat he held up his hand to her, causing her to retreat with her arms behind her back. She knew it was odd, but she was also paid too well to ask questions she didn’t really care to know the answers to. Winston clutched his chest, feeling the glass bottle under the fabric and listening to the slight clinks from inside the pocket. He didn’t pull out the bottle until he was in his bedroom. He passed many rooms before that, each one with its own purpose and personal flare that made guests gawk when he threw parties. He stared at the pills in front of his vanity, occasionally looking up at the face that was dropping from old age and purple bags under his eyes the lack of sleep. Apparently knowing you’re going to die was like a caffeine rush that could only end with his final breaths.


“He’s ready for you.” Another maid this time had knocked and entered the room and Winston had been startled. He was so focused on the pills that he hadn’t heard the door.


“Thank you, I’ll be right there.” He didn’t look at her either for the same reason he didn’t like being out in the city. Others were beneath him.

With the bottle firmly inside his hand, he left the bedroom and left towards another room down the hall. A game room made for his ungrateful spawns left empty and desolate. The maids kept it tidy, but if he hadn‘t suddenly wanted to use it then he would never have known if there was a layer of dust over the toys. There were some fond memories of his eldest son, but even then he winced at the thought of them burning away his empire for their lazy selfishness.


Inside the game room was a man observing an image hanging on the wall. He was dressed in street clothes, a light shirt, heavy jacket and a pair of boots. He seemed to be mesmerized by the golden frame of the painting and hadn’t noticed that anyone entered the room until Winston coughed loudly.


”I don’t have all day.” Winston had uncorked the bottle and lightly tapped a pill into his palm. He looked up at the stranger and raised his eyebrows as though he was waiting for the man to do something. He finally nodded out of discomfort and removed his jacket, placing it on a small chair. Next, he removed his shirt, which made the room feel a little different. The ends of Winston’s mouth had curled ever so slightly as the man tossed his shirt to the clothing pile and then slipped his hands into his pockets while tensing his abs. Quickly, Winston tossed the pill to the back of his throat and swallowed without any water to help wash it down. The stranger, who was not a sex worker, had received a phone call from one of the maids the day before. An offer had been given for him to make an appearance at Winston’s home and he would just have to show off.


“Like get naked?” He asked plainly.


“Yes.” The maid whispered.


”For that much money? Heck yeah.” And the verbal phone agreement was in place.


”The pants too.” Winston said and the stranger obeyed, unbuttoning the straight legged Levi’s and pushing them down to his ankles. Winston was almost too excited and then started to feel woozy. This was the moment he had been waiting for. Vincent understood the instructions and had gone over them repeatedly until he no longer needed the small little note that came with the initial offer. The stranger smiled as Vincent approached him and then that smile faded as soon as his hand grazed his chest. The stranger's eyes glazed over and his jaw had loosened slightly. Vincent had now noticed that he was incredibly hard and looked down at his bulge, something that hadn't happened in quite some time due to him getting older, but with the help of the pill he was as hard as he had been when he was in college.


"What's happening?" The stranger said with a tone that was so gentle and confused. Winston turned to the maid and waved them away, their white sneakers lightly tapping against the floor until the door blocked the sound. Winston adjusted the stranger, pulling down his underwear to reveal the rest of him. Everything that was about to be his was no standing in front of him.


"Turn around." Winston whispered, removing his own clothes and discarding them a few feet away. The stranger lazily turned and bent over, reaching back to pull apart his cheeks so that Winston could have a better view. Winston was hungry and his older body slid into him with ease. At first the older man couldn't control himself, sliding his hard aging cock into the younger man and almost buckling over from the pleasure that swept through him but he noticed that his skin was sticking to him. Sweat was his initial thought, but then their skin didn't detach and a mischievous grin grew on his lips. Looking down at his hands, he plunged them into the strangers back, the muscle caving in and sucking him down towards him. Winston bucked, until he suddenly felt his cock slip into something else, his own member sheathed inside of the strangers and he found himself thrusting against the air. The bottom half of his body had disappeared inside of the man and just his arms were submerged in his broad back. He licked his lips and then pushed deeper inside, his hands sliding along the inside of his fleshy arms until the tips of his fingers were grasping at the chair. Winston was staring at the back of the strangers head and could smell the shampoo, some off brand nonsense that he would replace with his own bathing regimen. Technically, his pills could be considered his own anti-aging medicine added to a new lifetime routine. As he sniffed, he pressed his nose into his head and moved forward into the darkness until he suddenly gasped for hair and stood erect inside of his new body.


"Oh my god." He looked down at himself and immediately went for his throbbing cock. A long mirror with an ornate frame hung on a wall and he watching his body as its new youthfulness tensed all of its muscles until he was spewing all over the mirror, globs of cum dripping down his newly acquired reflection until he was done fucking his hand with a growl. Instead of going for the stranger's underwear, he grabbed the pair of white briefs his old body was wearing and slid them up over him. He grabbed a bottle he had previously place at the side of the room and poured the oil into his hand, lathering his hunky skin up in front of the mirror.

He laughed, flexing muscles he had only dreamed of having and now he was standing there in front of the cum covered mirror with a new body. He admired the physique of this man in the same sort of way that he was admiring the painting near the entrance of the room with such awe that he suddenly found himself getting hard. The light glistened off of him as he flexed, turning to see all the angles of his youthful form.

"Beautiful." Winston said, his hand sliding up his body and then to his throat where he repeated the word to feel the vibrations. A new youthful voice that was no longer coarse and decrepit.


"Beautiful." He said again, the bulge in his briefs growing as the blood coursed through him. This was something he was going to have to get used to again, but it did not bother him one bit. With a snap, the maids had unlocked the door and entered the room with a suit that had been tailored to his new body and they left it in a pile on a table near the mirror, only taking a moment to notice the cum globs before scurrying out of the room. They wouldn't say anything, he had made sure they were well paid for their silence which meant he had a whole new life with this delicious stud. Ten whole new lives in fact and now that he knew where to get the pills and the money to keep this youthful glow he had eternity to feel young and virile. His biceps popped as he posed in the mirror and he flexed his pecs underneath the firm grasp of his strong hands until his fingers delicately rose to trace his jawline.


"Beautiful." He repeated and a sly grin that no one had ever seen on this man's face grew until it turned into a maniacal laugh that echoed throughout the room.


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