Author: [lowerbase] The Unfair Game | #HG #FMG #Mature

[lowerbase]

The Unfair Game #HG #FMG #Mature
by lowerbase


...



Thanks to amnoartist for letting me explore his original concept of 'age == muscles' ("Muscle Comes with Age"), and circescup for his clever advices and additions.

Let's embark on another oppressive yet alluring adventure where women rule over everything. Older women this time.


...


Ten years ago a comet scorched the Earth creating a rain of crimson fireworks that lasted three days and three nights until the planet wholly changed.

The comet was called the Firebird.

In its trail, the balance of all planet's life shifted towards the female's side.

This event was known as "The Leap".

From the smallest insect to humans, females expanded in size and strength as they aged. The Perpetual Puberty created female Elephants greater than Mammoths, Whales larger than battleships, and Women stronger than Bears used to be.

In all life forms, Male's attraction deviated towards size and fitness, strangely making females more appealing as they aged and grew in strength and beauty.


...


1 - In the Age of Aquarius



Another dull day for Richard, after the most forgettable week of his life. The 24th floor was nearly silent as its employees waited until five to go home.

Richard was me. Richard Petsman.

The silence broke as the upper-level execs started to leave early for their happy hour, and to prey on horny college students. They didn't need to respect the clock. I felt my desk to shake with the high heels of the senior execs crossing the corridors, their eyes invading my cubicle's privacy from their towering height.

In my first days on that desk, I used to see them waiting there for the slower heavy-duty elevator to arrive. I would only see their unobstructed faces to hover over the six feet tall cubicle walls, and their diamond shaped calves below the wall division.  In that same spot, I witnessed each year their wide traps arising more visible over the partitions. Traps that could tell us how tense they were, and give us a hint of their devastating strength.

For some reason, female execs and most politicians had those intimidating muscles highly developed.

Another couple of years those same walls came up to their shoulders at the most, while those muscles around their necks surged with more mass. Their fluttery dresses left delts always exposed, as most of their shoulders and upper muscles. Soon it will be their breasts unbound by bras that would be visible above those walls. Just some years more and their breasts will grow even larger and perkier with age. They competed among themselves for our attention. Any male attention.

I could only catch glimpses of their faces as they stood before the elevators. Their exotic beauty  always looking healthier than before as every imperfection from youth vanished. Their silver hair was so radiant that seemed to glow. 

There will be a full moon tonight. It will rev their raving hormones. These ladies will be dangerously libidinous and will take multiple partners, fucking for hours until the sun shines again.

Older women were well beyond my league. They wouldn't be interested in being with a man from such a lower social status like me, even before the Leap. The dead-end job didn't help either. No woman would have a dead-end job nowadays. Not only this, I was 30 years old that Friday, which made me a second-class citizen to these big cats, who always craved younger blood.

I used to be quite successful with girls before the big Leap. I could score a seven by just cheating a little. A little white lie here and there. It was all game until women had it all. The Leap came. The game then was all theirs now. They made the rules, the calls, the penalties and the scores.

I had two hours before my leave, so after they've gone, I did some more of the work that Donna, I mean, Ms.Shields assigned me to do in my spare time: to shred old company photos from social happenings that used to populate the office's walls.

Those photo archives were eleven years old, a year before the Leap.

It was like looking into a lost civilization, or a parallel universe. A time when men made the majority of the execs, while women looked small, frail, vulnerable near them. I kept looking at those thin female limbs from these pictures, their wrinkles, skin folds, aging like us men do. An elderly lady that could hurt herself by just falling from her feet. So odd.

To think that women used to age like us men… such a distant past that no one remembers how yesterday's women used to be. In the old days, we could figure out a mature lady's age by her wrinkles, today, we know a woman's age by her vascularity. And the size of their breasts, the girth of their arms… inches added every year, just as their adamant bones gained more inches until the day they die.

At an advanced age, their swollen muscles would grow overwhelming fast, and so fast that their absurd strength and bulk would then become the principal cause of a woman's passing. Even a modern woman's heart and arteries have limits. Their unbeatable health could beat cancer, diseases, spinal injuries, but too much strength, size, and too much sex have its price. A rocket that goes only up and up until it explodes. The ultimate orgasm was the end of the journey for most women.

Does it refrain the ladies from building muscles faster? Of course not. The opposite. It upends not just relationships, but also notions of death itself. Death is no longer the unremarkable end of a long decay. It is the bang of a firework, the greatest moment of her life, the point at which life had nothing left to give her. While a man can rightfully fear death, for women, it is not something to be feared, but rather appreciate. To know that there is nothing to be feared at the end of her days, but rather, savored.

I had fears of my receding hair.

They had no fears at all. These older ladies now could bulldoze a house. Punch thru the concrete. My Mom did it once just to show me, and she wasn't that old. She is still in her 50s. Not nearly the size of my older aunties. Robbing their purse was a bet against certain death. I can't feel any safer than having them by my side.

Older ladies didn't need help anymore to cross the street. The drivers were the ones who that had to watch out for their own lives when a granny crosses the street.

People can adapt fast, I recollected. The Leap happened when I was twenty years old. Three days before I left home.

It was like that scene from Alien. When the comet first appeared on our skies were eating a nice civilized dinner at home --which never happens, by the way-- and suddenly my mother and aunts started growing out of the clothes on the First Surge of the Leap.  It was freaking scary for us all as they were mutating before my eyes. We heard screams of the growing women around the apartment buildings, down to the streets, and to the city, and the world. Some men still call it the Judgment Day. A lot of women prefer to call it Independence Day.

On the first Surge, my neighbor had to watch his disabled grandma's legs growing out of her wheelchair and walking again. Breasts swelled out of her blouse, shoulders, and arms ripping off the sleeves with new masses of muscles and longer bones burst thru their clothes. Their skin revitalized, their minds astute again as a twenty-years-old. Most guys who witnessed an old lady in the First Surge had several involuntary bodily and inappropriate responses, as the Leap was changing them as well. Confusing times.

The First Surge made any woman above thirty taller than the average men, and already stronger. But it wasn't done. The Firebird had just started.

On the second day, on TV we watched the scenes to unfold in the parts of the planet exposed to the Firebird, the Knightley-Phoenix Comet. We knew for some hours earlier that women nearby would grow larger with another spurt, and a larger one. We watched live English older ladies growing taller in the streets for some hours as the Firebird started to appear on the horizon with its dazzlingly fiery effects. The Second Surge was the strongest one as the comet was its nearest point from Earth's surface, and then no women over twenty-five would look up at a man again to open a jar. On the third day and Third Surge, well, women in their 50s would be well over six feet tall and musclebound.   

And inevitably, what happened next would be the most awkward month in history. Neither men or women knew how to react, or what to say. Women above their 20s didn't know if they covered their new mutated bodies in shame or showed them off as nature was calling them to do. In every home, the sexual tension was so dense that you could cut it with a knife.

It wasn't rare to find people suddenly fucking in the middle of the street. Or to find men fingering the new taller women in public as both were horny as hell. The horniest were the women beyond their forties and getting nuclear if beyond their sixties. Data showed that the Leap increased people's sex life tenfold on average.
 
It would be all fine for men to see women taking charge... if they didn't stop growing.

Since then, year by year they kept adding inches, pounds, and it would never stop. My Aunties' shoulders tower over a foot above my eyes. If my 95 years old grandma were alive, her shoulders would be, at the very least, three feet above mine and more than ten times my weight. The few and most legendary ladies are the ones who reached that age/size.   

Inside the old boxes around me, I found some old pre-Leap Cosmo magazines with tricks to 'engage him,' 'tips to give Mr.Right the right signals,' and of course, 'sex tips he will love.' The game changed so much that it was amusing to read. I showed to a co-worker, and we both laughed about the 'diet and nutrition tips.'

"Look at that," he read, "'If you want to lose weight, you shouldn't eat more than 36g of pasta per portion'. Thirty-six GRAMS! That's funny."

"Women wanting to lose weight. So bizarre. Look at this one," I showed him one old picture of an obese woman executive assistant, "I can't believe some Ms.Lindberg used to seem like this, she's now the hottest thing in the building. She can't pack any more muscle in her body. Her pecs are like blimps."

"My older sister used to be very fat before the Leap. Now she has more muscles than women a decade older than her. She eats 36 grams in a mouthful."

"Yeah, the fatty ones had a huge head start."
   
I kept feeding the shredder with the pictures of yesteryears. On one picture showed a decrepit lady in a dress handshaking a man. She was shorter than a ten years old kid. Her bones shrunken, her hair was too thin, her eyes sunken, her face full of small folds, a neck crumpled with loose skin and sagginess in her thin arms. Now she must be the complete opposite. I could only imagine how big she must be by now. Ladies grow faster and much taller after menopause, hotter by the day, with an appetite for sex that matched their constant need for food and protein, but at her age, she must look and act like a goddess.

There were many pictures of this small old lady. A tag behind the photo identified her as 'Ms.Kleinhardt.' I decided to keep one picture to google her later.

"Why don't you just dump these old pictures in a bin in the street?" He asked. "Ms.Shields is already gone,"

I nodded no. I couldn't explain. Donna, I mean, Ms.Shields would always find out a lie from me. Every time in my monthly review, she would cross her fantastic muscular legs in shiny nylons before him, and ask hard questions on top of that. Just a flex, I would lose track of thought, couldn't put two and two together. When it does, my mouth behaved like a traitor speaking everything she wanted me to tell. Every intimidating woman seemed to have a power that only mothers used to have over their toddlers.

That's maybe also why the most developed women treated most men like boys, rewarding and punishing likewise.

Donna was age and my Boss already. Before the Leap, she used to be an intern like me and had a screeching voice. The bigger chest did wonders to her voice. Making it huskier, giving her authority. She's going on a strict diet and gym schedule to brew larger muscles faster, making her more tense and uptight than usual. She was at that age that brawniness and muscles get possession of a woman's body. Ms.Shields slowly grew to my height until around her 26th anniversary, then her height shot up past mine, towering over me in her heels, her muscles became indeed her most striking feature. Each time I see her, her increasing definition highlighted a new muscle larger. A new muscle separation here and there. She had to show off these new gifts every monthly review. Her voice kept growing a little bit deeper at each meeting, just as her size and definition increased, making me shudder. I was a such a pussy near her.     

If I were able to articulate my thoughts, Ms.Shields would scratch her nose and make her bicep to bunch into a solid ball that would overflow my palm. Or would take off her glasses and 'correct her posture,' her larger chest and muscular frame made her breasts to stand proud like the bow of a ship. Or she'd adjust her nylons, or fix her hair, with any casual movement her muscles would constrict and bulge under her flexible yet formal working attire. That would be enough to scramble my mind and forget any line of thought. Never had a raise since she came to power. Her muscles on constant display made me wonder if she had any issues about being the youngest woman in the office, throwing her insecurities on thirsty employees like me. We, her subordinates, treated her as our queen, and she quite loved it. She was happier working there than most women. We knew her Favorite by whom she asks to serve coffee. Donna never asked to me. Maybe never will. She liked fresh guys. I never got to be the flavor of the month.

Still, I was so lonely that I counted the days for the performance review with Donna, just to be one to one with a woman again. Just to see her beautiful muscles working, bulging elegantly beneath her clothes, to see if she had grown some more, even if I only to catch a closer glimpse of her swollen biceps threatening her skin-tight sleeves. I'd worship her feet if she let me. She, of course, knew it. Never said anything about it, but an eye-roll here and there, pretending to be impatient.

Besides, there was a work policy prohibiting relationships within the company. I would need to leave my job before asking her for a date. If I knew she would say yes, I would drop it instantly. I was that desperate. I could tell that Donna, Ms.Shields, saw the mess I was. Time and age only made things worse for me, while for her, aging was making more men to fall into her lap.

For the women it was great... but what about us men?

...

[Jeremy Lightning]

I really like this story, all but the height growth, but I am okay with it, because it means that the oldest of ladies are now the biggest, strongest, sexiest beings on Earth, when I would venture to guess before the Leap, that was the farthest thing from the case, as a lover of older muscle, this story has my attention for sure! Hope to see more soon! k+!

[lowerbase]

yep, you're right, JL. I've always felt that was unfair that most men, whatever their age, are so into twenty-something younger girls. This story is a ladies revenge on that.

sorry that it doesn't fully meet your tastes, I'd guess that your preference bracket in this story will be ladies between 25-40 yo. here's a reference guide:

1-20 no change

20-25 mostly no change, women just start to get fit, and get to be stronger than the average joe by 22 (or to squat 1.5x her bodyweight). food intake elevates to 2000 calories daily

25-30 women start to bulk up, their average height the same as men. FFMI average of 22 (the same average among natural male athletes) able to squat 1.75x her body weight and starts to brag about it. 4000 cal daily meals. Female muscle response and reflex get faster in this age, with the average woman able to run faster than the average male athlete (10~15 mph sprint).

30-40 their height develops to around 5'9 feet to 6'3, and faster healing, with a mass between 170 to 220lbs, FFMI 25 (same as steroid-using male athlete) at this age women can deadlift 2.75x her body weight, 3x squats, stronger than 99.8% of the male lifters as female muscle is denser. Female sprint speed reaches 20 mph. consume 7000 cal daily

40-50 FFMI 32 (same as Arnold). average between 6'3 and 6'10. 220 to 350lbs average, bones become denser, strength borderlines superhuman. inhumane 4x bodyweight benchs, 5x deadlifts, 6x squats. Sprint speed 30mph (above Bolt's) metabolism consume 10k calories daily

50-60 Beautification starts. FFMI 35 (current mr olympia). 6'11 to 7'2. 350 to 450lbs. Stronger immunology and genetic regeneration. Strength level inflation. Women here are able to curl 5x bodyweight barbells, perform 10x bodyweight squats (she's able to squat cars). 40 mph sprint speed (max human theoretical human speed until then) Consume up to 14k calories daily, ultimate orgasm risk: low

60-70 7'2 to 7'10. FFMI 37 (dragon ball z) 450lbs to 600lbs Beautification accelerates. Healing becomes nearly instantaneous regeneration, weights are measured in tonnage. Advanced women can squat up to eight tons, deadlift 6 tons. 60 mph sprint speed. Eats the same as two families (comparing to the pre-leap years) ultimate orgasm risk: elevated

70-80 7'10 to 8'12. FFMI 40 (maximum body limit) 600lbs to 900lbs, fastest growth rate. They are able to squat a truck (30,000lbs). Food intake: five families. 90 mph sprint speed. ultimate orgasm risk: very high

80-90 9 feet tall. goddess status. ultimate orgasm imminent

90-?


 

[hehehehe123123]

Thank you so much for sharing your stories with us! i love evrything u have wrote from the days were u were crazyf never got a chance to thank you for all thoose stories back then so thanks again!

[nickolai]

Love the premise of this story and where it may take us.  Of course I had not doubt I would really enjoy a collaboration btw Lowerbase and CircesCup.  How could it not be awesome!

[nickolai]

yep, you're right, JL. I've always felt that was unfair that most men, whatever their age, are so into twenty-something younger girls. This story is a ladies revenge on that.

sorry that it doesn't fully meet your tastes, I'd guess that your preference bracket in this story will be ladies between 25-40 yo. here's a reference guide:

1-20 no change

20-25 mostly no change, women just start to get fit, and get to be stronger than the average joe,

25-30 women start to bulk up, their average height the same as men. FFMI average of 22 (the same average among natural male athletes)

30-40 their height develops to around 5'9 feet to 6'3, with a mass between 170 to 220lbs, FFMI 25 (same as steroid-using male athlete)

40-50 FFMI 32 (same as Arnold). average between 6'3 and 6'10. strength borderlines superhuman

50-60 Beautification starts. FFMI 35 (current mr olympia). 6'11 to 7'2. 350 to 450lbs

60-70 7'2 to 7'10. FFMI 37 (dragon ball z) 450lbs to 600lbs Beautification accelerates

70-80 7'10 to 8'12. FFMI 40 (maximum body limit) 600lbs to 900lbs, fastest growth rate

80-90 9 feet tall. goddess status

90-?

You only gave us an indication of strength levels in the 40-50 age bracket.  What are the strength levels in the other brackets?  And what about other physical attributes like speed and levels of invulnerability.

[ImperatrixRattus]

Neat!  Would not mind getting older in this world one bit. ^_^

As the song says: older women, are beautiful lover.  Especially when they can bench an elephant. 

[Jaguar]

A really good start.  I hope you write more on this.  Maybe a "day in the life".  Maybe celebrating his little sister's birthday.

Anyway, great start.

[lowerbase]

I updated the guideline above with more info, it helps me as well to keep it more grounded.

btw, I usually don't do this, to render scenes for my own stories, but this time maybe it is better to visualize how a 65-year-old lady looks like in this place (unrelated character):

bigger image: You are not allowed to view links. Register or Login

[lowerbase]

2: A Single Man




For the entire last year, I had only one date with a lady. And it ended so badly that scarred me. I used to have had seven profiles on each popular dating app, messaging at least twenty dames each night. One day, I was able to make one of them laugh with a pun. Jackpot. My heart was racing that she was replying back. Helen was her name. A 55 years old monster of a woman. I bet she used to be hideously obese in the pre-Leap years.

Like all older ladies in these apps, they lied in their profile. In her photos, she looked to be much taller than six feet and much heavier than 300lbs. Many women felt that posting their real stats would intimidate men, but sometimes it was just an old profile, a year or two in their continuous growth can make a lot of difference. Helen would have more troubles to bypass my apartment's front door than my fridge. Her deltoids alone was almost the size of her head. She was a dream come true. After three weeks chatting and careful insistence from me, she gave me her phone.

I couldn't quite believe my luck. I couldn't let this chance of a lifetime to bypass me. Age was getting me, my chances to score with a lady were diminishing every day.

I took every step possible to avoid disasters. I cleaned my entire apartment, took reservations in the most expensive restaurant in town, cut my hair, bought new clothes. And of course, went deep into her Face book to find out about her life.
   
Helen had three kids, divorced thrice, the first one just before the Leap, the other two after the leap. She was rebounding from the third failed marriage. She had custody of all of her children, all male teenagers, and received the pension from all three husbands after taking half of their life savings. She described herself and also her job as 'Mom.' I dug deeper into her life, her three sons seemed to be shy and never leave home. Her ex-husbands appeared to be broken financially and had lonely lives in tiny apartments. She still posted dismissing messages on their feed, scorching them like a harsh mother. Some comments were pretty cruel to their appearance and fitness as these are what a middle age man is supposed to be, and none of them answered back to her vicious provocations, comparing her constant evolution with their decline. Helen hadn't a single drop of sympathy for them, especially for her first husband, who was her age, living in a tiny apartment while her house had five bedrooms, two for herself, as most upper-middle class ladies have, one bed for husbands, another bed for lovers.

I should run. The number of red flags was staggering, everywhere, and yet I couldn't stop stupid monkey brain from glancing at Helen's arms flexing around her sons possessively, burying them in her massive chest. I wanted that. I wanted to be under her arms as well, to be hers. For days until the date, I devoted all my sexual energy to her. Her picture, profile, and even her arrogant online personality chased my dreams, waking me up in fever.

Tuesday, an odd day for a date. She was late. I waited an hour alone on the table for her. The restaurant was full, I couldn't lose the table. There were some advanced ladies with wealthy men exchanging fancy gifts for the opportunity to be with these dames. I had to hope Helen wouldn't expect a thousand dollar diamond earings from me. Reading the prices of the restaurant, I was going to max out my credit card anyway. If she didn't show in another half an hour, I'd say she flaked me.

I had an entire script inside of my head, what to talk about and what to not question. Helen had positions opposite of my political spectrum, especially on equality issues involving the dwindling men's rights under Clinton's long tenure. So I had to avoid that. Another day I overheard a heated conversation about this ridiculous notion that a woman can't rape a man. Great bar discussion. Why people had to talk about controversial issues in bars? That guy ended spanked by a tipsy 65-year-old lady after he flipped the finger at her. He got spanked until his bare buttocks got crimson like the Firebird. And it was in public, which was the most humiliating. Most ladies wisely delivered physical punishment in private. 

To keep me motivated in that restaurant table, waiting, I kept looking at the hundred photos I've saved of her, most of them were her fooling around other men in awe of her, so proud of her buffiness and sexiness that her resting face was provocative. The competition was young as me or younger, but they were mostly in their early thirties. My mother said that no men beyond their thirties would never marry a woman of his age. That modern woman had different priorities, and I had to cope with that. It wasn't easy to see my mother hooking up with my single friends under Dad's nose, but she's a woman and I have little say in her life. She also has two beds, yeah, even now that she is divorced she maintained both, to keep long term relationships and one night stands at the same time. If not the same night, after she dishes her official boyfriend for a ladies' night and never coming back alone. At times I had to wonder if she didn't know we all could hear both of her bedrooms from anywhere in the house. Good thing I had my place to live or I would never sleep. Soon she'll need three bedrooms.

It still impresses how cold Mom was with Dad. A year after the Leap both were convinced to have a 'polyamory relationship' and that they would have a second bedroom for casual partners, Over their last years together, she slept less and less in his bed, worse, he had to be in familiar terms with her affairs. She openly talked about the size that they packed, to kill any hope that Dad can be enough for her. Surely he had to listen to mom having the 'athletic sex' he wasn't capable of performing. With myself away from home, dad told me her lasting inhibitions towards casual sex were gone. Fucking a couple of young men in the couch became 'normal.' She told him to do the same, to bring his women to the party, sure, that's fair.

One day, looking at him sleeping across the corridor after an orgy with an entire fraternity in some mansion, Mom remembered that she was still married. Like that, she decided he should go, and crushed her wedding ring between her fingers until it split in two. Of course, she tried to hide that small act from me, not noticing that I was there. 

I guessed that many families changed as much as the matron's bodies. Helen wasn't different. Her favorite bodypart was her chest. Her pectorals eclipsed her breasts. Her cleavage was a muscle canyon that could trap my hand. What would feel like to touch them? I would wait another hour if I must.       

"Richard?" I heard a sultry female voice high above me, and I stood up. My eyes lined with her pectorals in full view, alive, breathing, larger than my imagination pictured them. I felt time slowing down as I tried to speak.

"Yes. Richard. My name," I thought I was prepared. I started to sweat cold. She was 6'8 in her high heeled sandals.

"Hmm, you look better than your profile," she said evaluating my features, and my cleanness, my hair, my clothes. My eyes couldn't leave her neck and shoulders, her black hair was in a bob, exposing traps that engulfed half of her neck, smoothly bridging with her delts, showing so much power that made me dizzy. Forearms that could crush the bones of my arms by closing her fist. Muscle of that size can't be taken lightly.

It was then I noticed her unimpressed face waiting for my mouth to move again. She wasn't the prettiest mom in town, but her muscles were more than large enough to compensate for it. She was hooked on constant growth, half of her pictures are from her insane weightlifting at the ladies' gym and pictures of mountains of high protein meals. Getting little bigger here and there, amassing more weight, more muscles. Her definition was crazy. I could see each of the muscles in her forearm moving as she took her bigger chair to seat.

Besides, she was about to enter an age that would beautify her. She'll be damn impressive in ten years, a huge monster of muscles in twenty years.

"I'm starving," my date said as I sat before her, and my chair was lower in height than hers. Helen loomed over me and the small table; her long arms embraced half of it. My god, she flexed both of her biceps, like two loaves of bread baking instantly in a hot oven. So impressive to see muscles of her size up close. She flexed again harder to break my reverie.

Helen was not amused, and pointed up her thumbs, making those muscles to jump once again, "my face is up here, Richard."

I was about to lose my edge. I excused myself to the bathroom before it was too late. I jerked off twice that day to cool off my uncontrollable libido. I'd needed to do it again. Damn ladies.

Five minutes later, I felt like myself again, "sorry about that."

Helen just raised her eyebrows acknowledging it, "You're excused. I'm very aware of the impression my physique have on men. Are you better now?" I think Helen could read me so easily that I felt naked. She obviously saw that I was desperate for sex and her big muscles were too much for my senses.

"I'll ask for the menus," I said forcing a smile towards a waiter.

"I already ordered for us. Do you like fish?" She turned her body to the side so she could cross her thick but long legs.

I hated fish. I couldn't blow that opportunity either. "I love fish," I said staring at her magnificent legs in rosy stockings, so thick that was a miracle how she flexed her calf without destroying her pantyhose, or either that she could cross one muscular leg over the other.

"Tell me about yourself," Helen said resting her head over hand, her elbow on the table, her bulging biceps squished by her bulging forearm, looking at me clinically. Then, what followed next seemed more a job interview than a date. She asked about everything: if I had kids. If I wanted kids. My college. My grades. My work. My salary. What I wanted from my career. How I handled pressure. How I was different from other guys. What motivated me. How many relationships, for how long they lasted. How many partners I had. Last time I laid. She didn't leave a rock unturned and grew unimpressed with each answer of mine.

When the food arrived, she asked for a second bottle of wine. These women could drink. Especially 100 dollars wine bottles.

Before I could take my turn to ask about her, she started to talk about 'some whiny loser' she just rejected earlier. "Men became such sore pussies," Helen said as her jaw crunched the spicy food, "we already fucked twice. He should be so thankful... if you are not my type, move on, right? Deal with it. Life is harsh. He should be happy with what I allowed him to have. Another 'half-empty glass' kind of man. I hate men like that," she said while eying three handsome men in tuxedos taking a table near ours, celebrating some event, one of them carried a trophy. They were in their twenties. I could read her mouth saying 'yummy.'

"I'm half full," I said, trying to fake any pleasure eating a paella.

"What?" She looked at me like I was crazy as my plate was untouched.

"I'm a half-full glass kind of guy."

She didn't reply or eased my awkwardness. She wasn't paying attention to me anymore, Helen was more intrigued about the three young fellas that just arrived. Gulping an entire glass of wine in her throat, she said out of the blue, "dating is hard for men. Isn't it?" Helen flexed one of her arms as she was clearing the hair from her eyes, and that flex wasn't for me. I couldn't see the three men from my point of view, but surely they could see her. Helen put her chair at a certain distance and angle from our table so she could show her fabulous legs, and hypnotic calves and quads and hamstrings for the whole restaurant to admire. Two waiters collided with each other the moment she crossed and recrossed them. She giggled at their messy expense.

Once she had a new audience, Helen spoke more lively, moving her arms more vocally to draw even more attention to herself. Her muscles flexed and unflexed as she talked about all these men she has been meeting. Of how they somehow frustrated her and couldn't learn what she wanted. Or that after having three children no cock was large enough to fill her like before, even before the Leap. That she needed it big and so few of the hundred men she recently met filled the criteria. I didn't ask about any of that. She was just spitting out and bragged how pitiful weak most of them are and how the majority had no control over themselves. And growing larger and stronger every year was only making them more pathetic in comparison.

She hardly met my eyes. Helen was still gazing at the three young men while finishing the second bottle of expensive wine. At least she let me appreciate her muscles.

Helen glanced at me only to attest that my eyes were eating her massive body, predictable as most men of my age, any age. Before the Leap, my sex life in college used to be so smooth and effortless. Suddenly, this, having to relearn to flirt again. I was losing Helen. Or already lost.
         
"Can I be honest with you, Tony?"

"It is Richard."

"You are the fifth guy I've met this week and..."

"It is still Tuesday," I said in surprise.

"It is not polite to interrupt a lady," she instructed me. "And I don't really want to spank that soft butt of yours to teach you some manners. Do you even go to the gym? Why are you so sloth? I bet you can't lift one of my arms without straining these sticks." She pointed to my arms and hers. "Anyway, you are in the lower bracket in here, Richard. Sorry to inform you that I see very little here. So don't hold any hopes for me. Or anyone like me."

I was speechless. I didn't know how to react to someone being so blunt on a first date. It was like Helen wanted to burn me, so I stop importunating ladies.

Helen crossed her arms beneath her impressive pectorals, which also seemed to be entities judging me as well, "I'm waiting for your defense, Richard. I know that you are dying to enter the temple of sex that is my body, are you worthy of it?" Only a woman with a body like hers could pull out such a phrase with a straight face. Who would be worthy? A billionaire celebrity? An Olympics golden medalist? A Nobel prize winner? I thought about it but didn't have the courage to say.

Then, the oddest thing, she brought her supremely jacked arms to the side and pushed her chest up front gloriously, and flexed her pecs hard, making them spill over from her cleavage of her dress like soccer balls. It took my whole attention, my whole shocked being.  Helen's definition so startling that could see each muscle moving like the keys of a piano as she bunched them all up and higher until it almost met her chin, and bounced again. 

I got instantaneously hard and drooled like a starving dog; I couldn't hold for long. I had the reflex to grip my cock as it would fly away from me. Her glassy eyes were finally connected with mine as she did it again. It felt like a ghost handjob, or a pec job, whatever it is, she pulled its strings with each flex of her enormous pectoral muscles, and it did it. A chain event that would make me ruin my pants in the middle of a crowded restaurant. Her pectorals flexing were completely pornographic to me. I could feel my hardened member between them, crushed by them, at each bounce, a new ghost stroke making me harder, and five more, I was holding myself against the table like I was having a stroke. My hips almost moved by themselves, splurging right there in the middle of the restaurant. No one cared, but I heard a few laughs from another lady.

Helen wasn't impressed at all. Much the opposite. It was too easy. So easy that she couldn't possibly see me as a desirable mate, or even as a man. "That's too bad, Richard. You are not suited for sex with me. I need someone that can handle this," and she expanded her lats, arousing me again. "I don't need another kid, one that wets himself with a sneeze of mine. I already have three children at home that can't handle their mother. I know you put some real effort to meet me, Richard, probably you jerked off the whole week while looking at my pictures. You had relieved yourself in the bathroom as soon as your eyes laid on me again. You have a very weak game here, Richard. I'm not interested in you and have neither the time or patience to deal with men like you. Better luck next time," Helen said while standing up to her towering height, adjusting her skintight dress and changing course to the table with three young men in tuxedos.

No, I said to myself. I couldn't let her leave so easily, so I put myself between the big amazon and her new targets.

For a moment it surprised her, but she frowned as my eyes again lingered towards her pectorals pushing 'v' of her cleavage to the ripping point. "I've already made my mind, Richard. Go home."

"Don't go, please, I'm…" and then Helen cut me out, not with her voice but by her iron clasp grip around my neck, lifting my weight with one arm. My feet started to leave the carpet as my cheeks probably grew purple and my eyes seemed to pop out of the sockets. Blood stop flowing into my brain.

Helen said very slowly, so she would only need to say once: "When a lady makes her mind, don't ever question her," and she shoved me to the center of the restaurant. My body rolled until I collided with the grand piano.

In the old pre-Leap days, someone would have called the police. Instead, I heard applauses from every woman in there, the old and new, the big and not so big, including the three young men in tuxedos. Helen waved to the crowd under the sounds of "go girl, show him" or "make'em lick the pumps" or "give him a good old time spanking."

After coughing my lungs out, two waiters aided me to put me back on my table, and a third one shoved the bill in front of me in a manner that said 'pay and leave.'

$449.88. Or a week of work.

And that's when I started to think twice about dating older women. They are ruthless, demanding, too sexy, too libidinous and too strong. That experience cemented that I had not the mental capacity to deal with an older woman yet. Months later, I still felt Helen's grip on my neck.   

What I had left were the harmless twenty-year-old college girls. Who would want to date young girls? Still, even girls above twenty-five were becoming too intimidating to me.


...

[Jeremy Lightning]

Great picture first of all, what a sexy lady, definitely a Goddess compared to even the most beautiful of ladies alive today. Second, I guess I can see that Helen's attitude is most likely deserved, she is too much for any man, and most likely hasn't found someone who can truly satisfy her, but never stops looking, unfortunately Richard was too old, not near muscular, strong, tough, and hung enough to even interest her a little, Richard...well, even before being dumped came off as a loser, the guys that Helen were looking at looked like winners, though I would very much venture to guess that even all 3 of them together couldn't fully satisfy Helen. k+!

[nickolai]

Great chapter.  Interesting world where not only to older women have the pick of younger men, but men no longer desire younger women.  They desire older and increasingly godlike women.  Wonder what the legendary women who reached their 90's did in or to the world.  Has the world around them - cars, airplanes, furniture, elevators/stairs - been able to accommodate their until now impossible size, strength and density.  The power their legs transmit into the ground just form walking probably cracks concrete and asphalt.  Shop windows crack and shatter from the rumbling ground as they pass.  And that is just unintentional, casual power.  What feats do these 90+ achieve when they are focused and approach with intent and purpose.

[Rs34]

First of all I will like to say that you are mine favorite Author and that I am really excited to see you write again. Not only that you write again but you also write about my favorite topic, about older muscular woman. I am hardly waiting to read again how you vividly explain the woman’s transformation, how she used to look and how she looks now. But most of all the changes in her attitude and how a male character coping with that changes. That's why I would like to see how he encounters some old acquaintance (older neighbor he used to help…). Basically the things that are happening in first years of the Leap when the things are still confused.

I would also like to add my opinion, I like when mature muscle women don't change so much in their faces, the contrast between their unbelievable sexy bodies and their older faces turns me on. But that is just my opinion, I fully accept and respect whatever you write!

[lowerbase]

Thanks guys, really appreciate the comments and they help me to shape the story. I always listen to the feedback while writing.

I like to write fantasies about women of all ages, they all fascinate me in their own way. Be a wise teenager or an immature lady. I also like to write about the best and the worst, so I decided to kick out the story with the worst. Helen here is a self-entitled bitch who likes to crush men to feel better about herself --after a life of self-loathing in pre-Leap years. Not all ladies are like her, there is the opposite of Helen somewhere in the story, an amorous lady who's lurking around.

I see your point, RS, nice to hear you follow my stuff. I hope I'm getting better with the grammar. I first thought about them showing skin signs of old age, but then that wouldn't mix with the ladies getting healthier and stronger with age. But I take into account that the mature facial bone structure looks different from youth, so it is not like they are regaining 'cuteness' (the large eyes, bulging craniums, or the retreating chin of youth) but becoming fabulous and glamorous instead.

Besides, I wanted the younger women to envy the ladies over everything: flawless soft skin, perfected facial features, a body that lords over gravity, a satisfying and rich sex life, orgasms that are stronger and longer than an heroin shot, had to be in the package.

This story will be a bunch of recollections of what these last ten years have been doing to Richard, so yes, he has a lot to tell about his family, his friends, his mom's friends, creepy neighbor family, co-workers, ex-girlfriend he dumped in high school, and how they changed. That is, if I'm able to write all that. 

[Rs34]

Lowerbase (crazyfck) I have complete trust in you and I know that this story will be fabulous like all of your stories. Keep up the good work! I forgot to add it would be nice to see some super abilities like smelling guys pheromones hearing their hart beat. I noticed that you mention your grammar couple of times in your post. I never had a problem with your grammar!