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GILF Club Sci-Fi

GILF night

GILF Club Sci-Fi

My friend and sometimes fuck buddy is into the older women. One night he invited me out to a new club. It was GILF Night. Grandmother’s of all ages were allowed to dance on stage and serving drinks. It doesn’t have much to do with actual age, just as long as you are a grandma.  Once we settled into our round, pink booth, a fifty-something woman in a black halter top and shorts strutted over to take our drink order.

 

“Tonight we have a special shooter. We only serve it on GILF Nights. It’s only $5 a pitcher until midnight. Guaranteed to change your mind about shots forever, it’s so good. I promise you will never drink this anywhere else. It’s the owner’s specialty.” She waved her hand around to all the people drinking glowing green shots. It looked so green, it looked toxic.

John ordered us a couple beers and a pitcher of shooters. The music of The Animals, Led Zeppelin, Santana and Aerosmith played as grandma after grandma took to the poles. Was it me, or were these women getting older and older as the night went on? Maybe they started dancing by age? The younger ones first? I shrugged. Whatever works, I thought.

John and I were enjoying the dancers., stuffing dollar bills where we could. I let the girls take the cash out of my cleavage. Sometimes I let them suck on my tits. John loves them old; the older the better. He does not age discriminate. He loves saggy tits. He says my tits will be nice and saggy when I get older. I say his dick is so small, it’s going to get lost in his wrinkles the older he gets. It’s all good. We like to watch together. It gets us off.

Soon enough we have three girls in the booth with us. Mirrors cover every wall, tinted pink and purple lights against the black. Little groups were starting to form in the booths surrounding the bar. The women were still dancing on the poles, older than ever, and no one was at the bar. Green liquid was glowing in the bottoms of shot glasses and in spills all over the empty bar. I looked down at my hand holding my own glass of glowing green goo and noticed my hand looked…well, older. I looked over at John, who looked older, too! There are two girls under the table sucking on John, and the one he is feeling up looks about 60 instead of 40. And either her daughter works here, or she looked a hell of a lot younger when we first walked in. I didn’t want to look at myself. I kept avoiding eye contact in the mirror.

I leaned into John’s ear, taking a peek at the two heads I saw moving on his lap. “Either this green shit is making me way too fucked up, or we are getting older. Everyone is getting older. I am too, aren’t I?”

I looked down at my tits. They had lost some bounce for sure. I pulled them out of my top. Fuck it if I was getting older for real, tripping my face off or in some sort of dream- I was horny. John leaned over and started sucking on my tit while still playing with the dancers on the other side of him. Another woman, about 60, climbs on top of the table and stands front and center in front of John. She separates her pussy to expose her wet hole. She then pushes her face right onto John’s face and he starts lapping her up. She scoots down on the table, pushing her ass to the corner. John takes his two fingers and thrusts them hard into her GILF pussy. In two minutes she starts shaking and a stream of clear liquid started to squirt out of her pussy, over Ronnie’s shoulder hitting the mirror behind him. With that, John came. He let out a big grunt and settled back in the booth.

I looked over at my friend, who seems to suddenly look as young as we were walking in the door. I looked over at the dancer who just came all over the table and she was barely 18. I looked back at myself in the mirror and gasped at a furture vision of myself.

“Make me cum, John,” I said. “I want to be young again.” I spread my legs and let John plow my pussy with his two fingers until I spurted my juice. The release was intense and I felt rejuvenated. I looked at my reflection with a sigh of relief. I was back to normal. With every moan and groan of each orgasm, each person seemed to go back to normal. In a few minutes, the music was cranked, the girls were climbing to the top of the poles and back to doing their fantastic dances. I looked at the table loaded with empty shot glasses, coated with green goo. No, I was not going to forget this drink…ever.

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