Himself

"I have to get ready," Chelsea said, bolting upright.

"You're just gonna love me and leave me? Pump me and dump me? Fuck me and fuck off?" Curtis asked, not meaning to make it a question.

She considered, then kissed him like a girlfriend. "No, but I have to get ready for Jimmy. You don't think I've gotten away with it this long without being careful, do you? I have to shower and get changed. You too, we stink like sex. You should come with me."

His eyes drifted over the form of his perfect lover, in her tiny tight skirt, and her crop top that revealed her mountainous breasts. The thing was soaked through, and pulled far to the side. He couldn't help but think about how they'd feel, or what it would be like to suck on them. "Fine, fine. I'll shower with you." He swung his legs over the bed and winced. All his aches and pains had gone away when he'd had his dick in her, but without that distraction they were back, and certainly agitated by the physical activity. He rose to his feet, feeling his knee crack, but motioned for her to move along.

His own body was something he can certainly fix, but did he want to? He didn't mind his age, really. It came with some level of respect, without being old enough to lose it again. People took him seriously in ways that they hadn't when he was young. He didn't really want to change the relationships he has in his life, either, or at least not generally. He liked where he was in relation to his siblings, for example, and wouldn't want to be their much younger brother. "Hey, let me ask you something, Chelse," he said, wording this next part carefully, "you're a young, sexy woman who surrounds herself with young, sexy people. How attractive am I? Be honest."

She glanced back to him, entering the bathroom. "Honestly?" she asks, putting weight on the word.

He winced, knowing what that question meant, but nodded. He started stripping his clothes, feeling more self-conscious than he'd have if he hadn't asked. He hadn't had body image issues before, and stayed fairly active at work, clocking more than 10,000 steps a day (he had a pedometer to check), but now he was working with a different standard.

"Not very. That's not to say I don't want to fuck you, if you want me to," and the longing in her expression confirmed the validity of that, "like, more than anyone else. But it isn't because you're the hottest guy I know. Don't get me wrong, I've seen you younger, and you were cute."

He sighed. Yeah, if he's going to keep going, he'll need some improvements. "I think that's maybe not quite right. I know how old I am, but does my body feel older than 25? And can you find a guy my age more attractive outside a modeling shoot? Am I not the kind of silver fox women even as young as 20 want to call "daddy" when they're getting reamed?" He felt himself change, his back straightening, his muscles tightening and growing. He wasn't obscenely muscular, but one look in the mirror and he knew he'd be looked at as much as the art at work. There were hints of his old face in there, but even his bone structure had changed. He was ruggedly handsome, with a light gray stubble and thick, dark hair only just starting to gray at the temples.

"No, you're right," she said and put a hand on his abs, her naked leg up against his like a bond girl on a movie poster. "You're a hell of a stud," she purred.

He gave her a wink and went to start the shower. "By the way, about this whole arrangement, I've got to say I get why you love fucking around behind Jimmy's back so much. Like, I've never fucked someone sexier than you, and I can't imagine I ever will, but knowing that you're Jimmy's is way hotter."

"I know what you mean. It's not like I want to hurt him..."

"You don't?"