Following in the footsteps of 15th century explorers nearly 100 years his elder, he’d sailed along the coasts south of the new world looking for that long besot treasure, the fountain of youth.
He was still young and full of vigor when he started, but having seen the ravages of time upon his father, he knew he couldn’t begin the quest too early but he certainly could finish it too late. A full decade passed, and he felt no closer to his goal, though he felt the scruff on his face thicken, the wrinkles in his sun-worn skin growing more pronounced, and the ache in his bones more clear after a day of toiling with rope and sail.
But then, finally, he’d caught a lead of true value. Trading tales with the locals had never gone too well, but in desperation for food and unsalted water he’d given in to the necessity of it and found himself in a small village, unnamed as yet in his tongue. It was there that he witnessed a matron among them die of old age and be resurrected, restored to the youth of a twenty year old, with naught but a few drops of liquid upon her eyes. He would scarcely have believed it if he hadn’t witnessed it himself, and having paid the entirety of his remaining fortune for knowledge of the liquid’s origin, set sail in search of it.
When it lay at last before him, a rather simple looking cave tucked into the side of a mostly inactive volcano named Chaiten, a new youth filled his blood as he anchored, and a new boldness as he ordered his men to stay behind. The lonely row towards that damp cave at dawn would forever be burned into his memory by the pumping adrenaline of anticipation which underscored his every move.
And so that much strongerf was his dismay when upon cresting through the dreary opening into the dark, he lit his torch and was greeted with nothing. There was no grand golden chalice, no font of endless fresh water, no sign of humanity at all in fact. The fear that he’d been swindled clutched his heart and gut as he took a few trepidatious steps further into the mouth of rock, and fell.
He was sure that before him he’d seen solid stone, but his foot passed through it like air, and he found himself tumbling head over heels into the dark. One second, two seconds… three seconds passed, and he gathered his senses just enough to be overcome by fear. He’d never fallen this far in his life. Finally, the darkness was broken by a shaft of impossibly white light beneath him, though he had no time to study it as it rushed up towards him. He felt a painful crack and his mind sank away.
Slowly, he woke, shaken slightly by a gentle hand on his arm, the caress of soft fingers against his forehead mingled with a slow, thick trickle of liquid he could only assume was blood.
The air was chilled and dry, gone was the moisture from above. Though he knew himself to be underground, the place was lit up with the brightest, purest sunlight, cast through the room from slits in the walls. It was a circular room, about the length of his boat and equally wide. His eyes roamed about the chamber only for a moment before latching onto her form, the woman who knelt at first at his side but soon stood and addressed him.
Her voice was silk upon his ears, though he understood nothing. Her eyes, bright green and tilted slightly at the sides, framed with perfectly thick dark lashes, studied him, full of an innocent joy. Ebony hair crashed down her shoulders in waves, as if guiding his eyes south on the journey of their life. She stood fully nude, olive skin aglow in the bright light, completely blemishless and cleaner than any body he’d ever seen before. Teardrop tits adorned her chest, large but upright and perky, a picture of youth. His eyes delved yet lower, to the curve of her hips at either side of her navel, to the puffy lips of thick skin which met and hid her otherwise exposed pussy, as hairless as the rest of her body, a marvel in its on right. She was an image of perfection and symmetry he’d never dreamt could exist, and it immediately dawned on him that this was it: she was it. Before him stood that thing which men had rightly coveted for centuries, the fountain of youth.
He moved to sit upright, but reeled with a sharp pain and a throbbing headache and fell prone again. The throbbing in his lower regions did little to soothe the pain, though it did wonders to motivate him to maintain consciousness.
Though he could *hardly* take his eyes off of her form, directly behind her sat a great mechanism wrought of ivory, or some similarly white and pearlescent substance, wrapped like the bones of a ribcage around an interior membrane. Dark, onyx veins slivered across its surface on all sides, holding fast to some kind of chamber beneath them which was glowing and pulsing with a verdant energy like nothing he’d ever seen before.
She gestured at him, some simplistic hand waves that sent her chest jiggling, and he was once more entranced, curiosity fled along with all other thoughts not guided by his groin. The lust passed briefly as her motions slowed and then stopped, he could see a look of recognition on her face and he clung to a moment of sanity to plea with her. “Please…” He struggled to sit up again, this time gritting his teeth and righting himself. “I’ve come because I want to live, to be young again, for all my days.” The subtlest curl of a smile formed at the sides of her lips and she knelt beside him, cupping one of her tits in one hand and slowly pushing it into his mouth. She smelled of oil and flower and crisp winter air, and her skin wasn’t salty, though it had a certain musky flavor. Instinctively, he sucked at her teat, and was rewarded with one glorious droplet, sweet and minty, and felt a vigor roll through his body. His aches disappeared, his headache ceased, though the throbbing in his loins only quickened. As she pulled away from him he clutched her, hungry for more, but she was prepared for this and clasped his pinkies in her fists, using leverage to peel the rest of his hands off of her as she stood and withdrew.
His hands felt strong, and the wrinkles upon them were gone, though evidently she was somehow stronger. Still, he’d succeeded. But he wanted more, ever more, not just of her, but of the power she wielded. Visions raced through his mind of glory and power. He would sell this elixir for a kings ransom, he would live forever, eternal ruler of the earth. The innocent, kind eyes that had greeted him were gone from her face, her joyous demeanor replaced by a forlorn frown. She simply shook her head, and disappeared. Darkness surrounded him again.
He awoke once more on his row boat, slowly drifting out to sea, the crest of a sail and the hail of his men greeting him. The taste of youth was gone from him, if anything he felt older. None believed his tale, not even him.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ozk48b/the_fountain_of_youth