Every July, the Palm Parkway Hotel underwent a transformation. Most of the time it served exclusively as a cheap option for poor tourists who couldn’t afford any of the other pricier hotels on San Gabriel’s famous Palm Parkway strip. However, July was the date of the nationally-renowned San Gabriel Music Festival, a gathering place for the biggest musical acts in the country. Thus, the Palm Parkway Hotel would see its clientele change from lower-class families to young, virile college kids, their heads full of music but their wallets not full of much at all. Naturally, the cheap Palm Parkway Hotel was the perfect option.
James Caruthers had been the owner/manager of the Palm Parkway for over thirty-five years, and the San Gabriel Music Festival always brought to him a mixed bag of emotions. On the bright side, July was by far their most profitable month, often ending evenings with little no vacancy and more than a little cash in the bank. However, as he watched the familiar procession of hot young bodies parade through his lobby, he was always reminded of how old he was getting. At sixty-five, most business owners were thinking of retiring about this time. Not James, however–he’d have no idea what to do with himself should he retire. He simply had to be content watching the Music Festival come and go, taking with it the fleeting vision of youth he needed to survive.
James was ashamed to admit that over the last few years he’d taken to decidedly more immoral practices to try and draw what little vitality he could from his young visitors. At first it began with him listening outside their doors as they spent the evenings making love. He tried to masturbate to such sounds before, but his advanced age made any sort of sexual stimulation impossible. When the high from these escapades wore off, James would occasionally break into their rooms while they were away and rub their clothes over his body, seeking any sort of physical stimulation from them. He found himself unusually drawn to the girls’ clothing: something about it just seem younger, sexier…more alive. The day always ended with him feeling more shame than excitement, and he went to bed the same old man he’d been in the morning.
One hot day in mid-July, James found himself inexplicably drawn to Room 302. The college kids had all since disappeared to attend the festival, and the hotel was virtually empty. He quietly unlocked the door and let it swing open, revealing a dingy room with a queen bed and a television set to some local access talk show. The room was littered with beer cans and clothing, telltale signs of a wild party the night before. James stepped inside and soaked in the atmosphere–this is what the young people did, a world he was completely set apart from. He heaved a heavy sigh. Such was the way of things.
James noticed a tiny pair of pink panties resting on the bed. He walked over and took the underwear in his hands, feeling it between his thumb and forefinger. Feeling no small amount of embarrassment, he removed his pants and underwear and began to rub the panties against his old, shriveled penis, hoping to produce some kind of sensation. As usual, nothing. He rubbed harder, gritting his teeth and panting in exhaustion, but his body refused to give him any pleasure. Frustrated, he slipped both his legs through the leg holes and pulled them all the way up his waist, pressing against his penis as hard as he could. Still nothing. He grunted and sat up, ashamed and angry.
His breath caught in his throat, however, when he turned his head to side and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. It should have made him feel pathetic, to see his old, saggy body fitting so poorly into the used panties of a college age girl. For whatever reason, however, he felt a tiny thrill race through him at the sight. For a brief second, he saw himself as younger.
Excited, James scanned the room, looking for other articles of clothing. He found a matching pink bra atop the TV, and he awkwardly pulled it on, his heart racing. He couldn’t clasp it in the back, but his fat held it snuggly in place, causing another rush of excitement to wash over him. This was fun! He threw open the absent girl’s garment bag and pulled out a pair of denim hotpants, and , by some miracle, he actually managed to squeeze into them, barely holding together across his fatty waist. To complete the ensemble, he pulled a small button-up tee from the girl’s luggage, cut off just beneath the breast. With no small amount of difficulty, he slowly buttoned the garment in the front and turned to look at himself in the mirror. Thrilling! He’d managed to actually fit into a college girl’s outfit!
However, just as quickly as the excitement came, it faded away as the reality of the situation struck James. An old man trying on girl’s clothes while she’s away at a concert–it was utterly pathetic, and he looked ridiculous. Lip quivering, he hung his head in shame. How could he bring himself to keep living if this was all that could give him excitement? If only he could be young again, and feel what it was like to have one’s whole life ahead of them.
Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of light and a sickening snap, and James yelped in pain as he involuntarily arched his back. A strange, stirring sensation was roiling just beneath his skin, spreading across his whole body in pulsing waves. He cringed as his bones cracked and slid around deep within his body, rearranging themselves into a much slighter shape. He felt his skin constrict and pull against his fat and muscles, slowly shrinking and spreading thin across his body. He let out a cry of panic, afraid he might burst at the seams. Just then, the fat that covered his body began to redistribute itself, flowing from the stomach and the back to the hips, legs, and chest. His hips groaned outward, making room for mass to spill into his rear, transforming it into a supple, decidedly feminine ass. With an astounding push, James’ chest began to expand, pushing outward and forming two ample, C-Cup breasts, the nipple hardening and tightening to a tender point. He felt his white, whispy hair begin to regrow, spilling down in back in brown locks, and a sudden snap painfully reshaped his waist, pulling it inward and creating a long, smooth curve. Finally, with an anguished cry, James felt his old, tiny penis squirm and twist, shrinking upward into his body and folding flesh behind it, creating a tight, moist vagina.
James let out a pained gasp as he finally regained control of his body, struggling to gain his balance after such an exhausting affair. He spent a few moments doubled over, panting heavily as air returned to his lungs. Moving his head upward, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The person he saw staring back at him wasn’t him–at least, it didn’t look like him. Saggy, pale flesh had been replaced by tight, tanned curves, and bloated belly fat had become a large pair of breasts and a wide, toned ass, both of which strained perfectly against the bra and panties. “Unbelievable,” James whispered in a newly high-pitched voice. He’d become a woman! And not just any woman–a drop-dead gorgeous one at that, filling out the clothes he’d chosen perfectly.
Staring in awe at his new, sexy form, James sensed a new sound entering the room. A steady “thump-thump-thump,” like the beating of a heart. He sauntered over to the window, body moving surprisingly smoothly, to ascertain the source of the sound. There, across the street, was the Music Festival, a crowd of college students jumping and dancing as some unknown rock band played their music with youthful abandon. Deep within himself, James felt a sudden urge grow within him–he had to get to that concert.
Leaving the hotel in a hurry, James crossed the street, his young body moving quickly and cleanly amidst the many pedestrians who walked Palm Parkway. He couldn’t help but grin…not only did he look young, he felt young. He hadn’t had this much pent-up energy inside him in years! Furthermore, as the music grew louder and louder as he got closer and closer, he, strangely enough, found himself enjoying it. Rock music had always just been noise to him before, but now he found himself rocking along to it inside his head. No wonder young folks liked this stuff so much.
Sneaking into the concert with surprising ease, James wormed his way through the crowd, trying to get closer to the music. Before long his progress was impeded by the sheer mass of celebrating college kids, but he had gotten close enough. The pounding drums, wailing guitars, and booming bass washed over him, causing a gleeful smile to sprout on his face. This was fun! He thought.
James found his foot tapping along to the music, something he hadn’t done in years. It felt right, almost as if he was participating with the band as they rocked out several feet away. Before long, toe-tapping wasn’t enough. The music was growing inside him; he needed to let it out some other way. James experimentally shifted from side to side, hips lightly swaying to beat. A shiver passed through him–that felt good. He allowed himself more liberty with his hips, moving them in smooth, wide circles with ease. To his delight, he found he also had a significant amount of control over his buttocks as well, and he wiggled his ass gleefully as the party raged around him. He began to move his torso and arms as well to accentuate his movements, and watched with delight as his ample breasts bounced up and down. I’m so sexy, he thought, and I feel so good!
As the music continued to play and James continued to dance, he felt a presence approach him. Looking up, he saw an attractive college-age guy eyeing him with lust, his own athletic body moving to the beat as well. Strangely, James wasn’t repulsed–if anything, he was drawn toward the young man. The man reached out and grabbed James’ hips, spinning him around and pulling his rear into his crotch. James felt a brief moment of panic, but the sensation was soon washed away as his body began to naturally respond to the gesture. He lustily ground his ass into his new partner’s pelvis, working it with sexual prowess and enthusiasm. He felt the young man’s crotch begin to bulge through his pants as an erection formed, filling James with an odd sort of pride. I did that, he thought with glee.
The young man leaned in and whispered in James’ ear. “What’s your name?” he asked.
“Jamie,” she responded, and she meant it.
When the concert finished, Jamie pulled her new friend back to the hotel and spent the next several hours having wild, passionate sex. At first she had worried that removing the clothes would cause her to revert to her masculine, elderly state, but such a fear proved to be unwarranted. She delighted in watching her naked body bounce and gyrate as her partner pounded his cock into her, running her hands up and down its many curves to maximize the pleasure. Having a penis inside her felt so good–maybe it was just the fact she hadn’t had sex in years, but she didn’t remember it feeling this good as a man at all. They continued until the early hours of the morning, Jamie experiencing orgasm after orgasm until she finally exhausted her youthful energy. When she awoke in the morning, the young man had left, but at least she was still a woman.
James’ disappearance was ruled a suicide, and the Palm Parkway Hotel was sold. Jamie didn’t mind–it was a relic of an old life, a sad life, that she had no interest in being a part of anymore. Jamie decided that she would spend the next several years following the music, joyfully moving her nubile body to make up for years of stiffness and depression. Hopefully she’d have a few boyfriends, too. Her body was useful for more than just dancing, after all.
