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“Valerie, darling: you are an older woman.”
“I’m, um, older?” You know that as you say such a thing that it’s not right. You’re 24, and that’s quite young. For crying out loud, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.
“Yes, dear. You’re older.”
“Older...?” You say as if it’s a question. Your age (as in, the number) suddenly slips your mind. Trying to recall it, you know you aren’t old at all, but also aren’t that young either. You’ve got a real career and you act like an adult for the most part, but you certainly aren’t settled down by any stretch. As you try and remember, your body begins to physically age, with your frame getting heavier, your skin growing more wrinkly, and your expression maturing. To anyone, really, you simply LOOKED older.
“You’re 36, Valerie.”
“I’m...I’m 36,” you say with a sigh, your body finishing it’s maturation into its 36-year-old form. You’ve still got a red dress on, though it’s bigger to match your expanded body. Your face is still very attractive (and boasting more makeup), though it certainly is a bit aged. Your hair is longer and done straight, as it could no longer get away with how you wore it in your 20s. You still have heels, but they aren’t as high as they were when you were younger. You couldn’t believe you forgot something as simple as your age, but it’s no matter.
“You’re mature.”
“I am...yes, I’m mature...” you affirm. You know you have to be, given how poised you are. After all, you have your life very well sorted out. You got into your dream field, business, at 26 and quickly rose up in your company. A junior executive, you have carved out quite the living and prestige, and you fully believe that your emphasis on your beauty, even as you aged, made you so successful. Your attractiveness made you attractive as a worker. You haven’t settled down, still latching on to the vestiges of your youth, and you live a life of luxury (judging by the jewelry that appears on your body as you repeat this fact to yourself) and success, and that’s because you approach everything like an adult.
“Oh my...she’s gorgeous still. She aged like fine wine...” whispers the man, stroking his member even harder.
“I’m, um, older?” You know that as you say such a thing that it’s not right. You’re 24, and that’s quite young. For crying out loud, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you.
“Yes, dear. You’re older.”
“Older...?” You say as if it’s a question. Your age (as in, the number) suddenly slips your mind. Trying to recall it, you know you aren’t old at all, but also aren’t that young either. You’ve got a real career and you act like an adult for the most part, but you certainly aren’t settled down by any stretch. As you try and remember, your body begins to physically age, with your frame getting heavier, your skin growing more wrinkly, and your expression maturing. To anyone, really, you simply LOOKED older.
“You’re 36, Valerie.”
“I’m...I’m 36,” you say with a sigh, your body finishing it’s maturation into its 36-year-old form. You’ve still got a red dress on, though it’s bigger to match your expanded body. Your face is still very attractive (and boasting more makeup), though it certainly is a bit aged. Your hair is longer and done straight, as it could no longer get away with how you wore it in your 20s. You still have heels, but they aren’t as high as they were when you were younger. You couldn’t believe you forgot something as simple as your age, but it’s no matter.
“You’re mature.”
“I am...yes, I’m mature...” you affirm. You know you have to be, given how poised you are. After all, you have your life very well sorted out. You got into your dream field, business, at 26 and quickly rose up in your company. A junior executive, you have carved out quite the living and prestige, and you fully believe that your emphasis on your beauty, even as you aged, made you so successful. Your attractiveness made you attractive as a worker. You haven’t settled down, still latching on to the vestiges of your youth, and you live a life of luxury (judging by the jewelry that appears on your body as you repeat this fact to yourself) and success, and that’s because you approach everything like an adult.
“Oh my...she’s gorgeous still. She aged like fine wine...” whispers the man, stroking his member even harder.
What next?