Go along with it

It suddenly comes to him where he is - the sleeping porch in his fraternity house from college. He has not been here for fifty years, yet the memory comes rushing back. It must mean the time jump has gone terribly off course. He is fifty years in the past - fifty two or fifty three to be precise, since this must be his freshman or sophomore year as he had moved out to a private apartment during his junior year.

Physically, he is young - his hands run over his body once again to confirm it - but his memories are those of a 73-year-old man. How did this happen, how could it happen?

Joe realizes that he cannot go down the hall or the house mother will see him and ask him why he is still up. The woman who ran the house was an old woman as he remembered; she must be forty-five or so. He laughs to himself as he remembers a time when forty-five seemed old. Now she would seem young, like his daughter. He tries to remember her name for a while, then it comes to him: Stone, Mrs Stone. It was always 'Mrs Stone', never 'Robin', her first name.

Mrs Stone. She was a tyrant and always seemd to be up when someone tried to sneak in or out after hours. She had eyes in the back of her head, and the boys quickly learned not to cross her.

Joe tries to remember what she looked like, dark brown hair, brown eyes, big breasts and well-shaped ass. He had a little crush on her at one point, he remembers jacking off thinking about her big tits, and what her nipples must look like.

He remembers one night he had snuck down the hall after everyone else had settled in. He had peaked in her door, which was cracked open, and he had seen Mrs Stone sitting in her rocking chair, she had fallen asleep in her robe. She was probably waiting for some idiot to make a break for it. Her robe was partially open and he could see most of her ample tits, they were huge and sagged only a little bit on her chest. He wished she would slump a little more so her nipples would pop out, but he finally left to go back to bed so he would not be caught. He could only imagine what she would think if she woke up and caught him gawking at her.

Thinking about Mrs Stone's tits, Joe feels his once-again young cock stiffen as he starts having sexual thoughts, and he realizes that he is standing out in the open with a boner. That is something he has not had in a few years, an honest to god boner. He decides to head back towards his bed and settle down to wait for morning. He does not want to see Mrs Stone now, especially with a big boner as she would probably pull his privileges, or call the cops on him for sexually molesting her.

He stumbles back to his bed, his eyes adjusting to the darkness well enough to make out the forms sleeping near him. They are, of course, his friends and classmates that he will soon be getting to know again. He realizes that the guy in the bed nearest to him is James, his best friend who had died at fifty-four of a heart attack. Joe hasn't thought of him for years, and yet here he is whole and healthy, young again.

This is going to be strange, trying to figure out how to live in a young man's world with an old man's brain. He wonders if he will ever be able to get back. Then he wonders if he would ever want to go back. This is a dream in one sense, to have the vitality of youth combined with the experience and wisdom of old age. What an opportunity to do things again, to avoid mistakes, to take advantage of opportunities. This adventure is just beginning, there's no question about that.