Living my Life

Ever since I kissed someone for the first time, I’ve known about my power. I can take anyone’s body I want. Total control. The only way to be free is when I decide to leave—and that usually happens after I’ve jerked off so many times I get bored.

I reach down and squeeze my aching bulge, trying to adjust it. The leather seat of my motorcycle is hot from the sun, keeping my cock painfully hard. I glance around the empty parking lot, then slide my hand into my shorts, gripping my leaking dick. Soon I’ll be doing the same thing inside his body. God, he’s a real man—hairy, thick, masculine. All of that is about to become mine.

Footsteps approach. I yank my hand out fast. A second later, he’s right beside me. Sergio. My target. He joined the gym recently, but I noticed him from day one. The moment I saw him shirtless in the locker room, I knew I had to have him.

“Hey, Sergio. How’s it going?” I’d spent weeks building rapport, hoping it would make this smoother. “What did you train today?”

“Hey man, thought you’d already left,” he says, bumping fists with me like we’re bros. “Chest day. It was brutal.”

“I bet. Every time I hit chest I feel like I can’t even breathe,” I reply, instinctively touching my own pecs while my eyes devour his massive frame under the dim parking lot lights.

“You coming tomorrow?” he asks, swinging a leg over his motorcycle.

I can’t wait anymore.

“Yeah, but there’s one last thing I need to tell you.” He turns to look at me. I swallow hard, grab his tank top with both hands, and yank him into a brutal kiss.

He tries to shove me off—those huge arms nearly succeed—but I force my tongue deeper. Our mouths fight, tongues sliding wet and aggressive. He’s experienced, and that only makes me hungrier.

The familiar rush hits me. My consciousness rips free and floods into him through the kiss. I force every inch of his body to obey me, claiming muscle, bone, and cock. A few seconds later, I open my new eyes and stare at my old, empty body standing there like a discarded puppet.

I shove it aside gently and grin.

“Let’s see what you’ve got for me, big boy.” My voice—his voice—is deep and rough. I run my hands over my new chest, feeling how pumped and solid it is from the workout.

My palms slide down to my abs, then lower. I freeze for a second when I grab the fat, heavy cock straining in his shorts. It’s thick, veiny, and surrounded by a dense, dark bush of pubic hair.

“Fuck yes,” I growl, massaging my new balls. A low, masculine moan escapes my lips.

“What the fuck is happening?!” Sergio’s voice screams beside me. His ghostly form is standing right there, staring in horror as I grope his stolen body.

I smirk. “Jesus, man. You’ve been hiding a fucking monster in here.” I squeeze the thick shaft harder, not caring that he’s yelling at me.

He keeps screaming, demanding his body back. I ignore him. All I want is to get home and break this hairy beast in.

“Give me my body back, you freak!” he shouts.

I climb onto his motorcycle. “Bro, I’m not talking to you out here. People are gonna think I’m crazy talking to myself. And in case you haven’t noticed, only I can see you.”

“You’re just gonna leave your old body there?” he sneers. “It looks like a damn statue. People will ask questions.”

I wave a hand, putting my old shell on autopilot. It climbs onto my old bike and follows. Years of practice make it easy.

It took a little effort to find Sergio’s apartment—his constant bitching made accessing his memories annoying. I drop the gym bag by the door and head straight for the full-length mirror.

I don’t waste time. My hands roam over my new torso, squeezing the swollen, sensitive pecs. The pump from chest day still burns deliciously. I rip the tank top off.

Thick, dark hair covers my chest and stomach. I run my fingers through it, tugging lightly, my mind flooding with filthy thoughts.

“Stop touching me!” the real Sergio yells, forced to watch.

“Why? It’s my body now.” I shove the shorts and underwear down. His—my—cock springs out, heavy and already drooling precum. I grip it with both hands and moan like a whore.

Sergio moans too, involuntarily. The pleasure hits him as hard as it hits me.

“You like that, huh?” I laugh. “Too bad we’re stuck together. Every time I feel good, you feel it too.”

Panic flashes across his face. He knows I’m into men. And that knowledge makes my new cock throb even harder.

I tear the underwear completely off and start stroking. The shaft is fat, veined, and covered in dark hair at the base. I spit on it and jerk faster, staring at the reflection of this hairy, muscular bear.

The smell hits me—raw, masculine sweat from the gym. I lift one thick arm and bury my face in my pit, inhaling deeply. The musky, pungent scent makes my eyes roll back.

“Fuck, I stink,” I groan. Sergio is panting beside me, clearly fighting the pleasure he’s receiving from his own body.

I close my eyes and picture all the guys from the gym—tight shorts, sweaty bodies, some shirtless. Then I open them again and stare at the hairy beast in the mirror.

“Don’t think about guys—” Sergio begs.

“I control this body. I’ll think about whatever the fuck I want.” I close my eyes again and imagine bending over half the gym. “I’m gonna cum!”

Thick ropes of cum splatter across the mirror and onto my hairy abs. I scoop some up and lick it slowly off my fingers, savoring the salty taste while staring right at Sergio’s horrified face.

He’s still moaning, legs shaky.

I smirk, then grab my phone. One of Sergio’s gym buddies, a tall, muscular guy named Marco, had been texting him earlier. I reply quickly: “Come over. Need help with something.”

Twenty minutes later Marco knocks. He barely gets inside before I shove him against the wall and kiss him hard, my hairy chest pressing into his.

“The fuck, Sergio?” he mutters, surprised—but his hands are already grabbing my ass.

“Shut up and suck my cock,” I growl, pushing him to his knees.

Marco doesn’t need much convincing. He swallows my thick, hairy dick down to the base, gagging eagerly while the real Sergio watches in humiliated shock. I fuck Marco’s throat deep and rough, one hand gripping his hair, the other tugging on my own nipples.

“Take it all, you fucking slut,” I groan in Sergio’s deep voice.

When I finally cum, I flood Marco’s mouth and make him swallow every drop. Then I bend him over the couch and breed his tight ass raw, pounding him until he’s whimpering and shooting hands-free all over the floor.

The whole time, the real Sergio is forced to feel every brutal thrust, every pulse of pleasure.

After Marco leaves, spent and satisfied, I stand in front of the mirror again, cum still dripping down my hairy thighs.

I grin at my reflection and at the broken-looking spirit beside me.

I was lying in bed scrolling through Grindr with one hand, the other resting on my stomach. The apartment was quiet except for the low hum of the fan. It was a Thursday night and I wasn’t expecting much — just killing time before I passed out.

I swiped past a few generic torso shots and blank profiles when a new face popped up. My thumb froze mid-air.

Ryan Callahan. Coach Ryan. My high school swimming coach. For four years I had shamelessly tried to get his attention. I used to “accidentally” flex every time I climbed out of the pool and knew he was watching. I’d linger in the locker room with my towel slung low, joking around with the other guys while making sure he got a good look. I was still deep in the closet back then, so I played it off as regular jock shit. But he never took the bait. Never even gave me a second glance that I could tell.

Now here he was. Less than three miles away. Active twenty minutes ago.

Now forty years old, he had a beard with streaks of gray, short hair going silver at the temples, and the same heavy, hairy chest I used to stare at every day in high school. He was shirtless in the bathroom mirror selfie. His shoulders and pecs still looked solid, the dark hair across his chest even thicker than I remembered. The profile listed him at 5'11", 205 lbs, and looking for “fun, no strings.”

My heart started beating harder. I let out a slow breath and tapped the message button.

Before I could even type anything, the typing bubble appeared.

“Fuck dude you’re super cute.”

Two pictures followed right after. The first was a close-up of his cock, thick and heavy, hanging soft but already filling out. The second showed the same dick gripped in his hand, now mostly hard, head flushed dark. A thick vein ran along the top. His hand looked big around it.

I was practically salivating.

“Damn, you don’t know how happy I am to hear you say that,” I replied.

He didn’t waste any time.

“Looking to get off tonight. You down?” He said.

“I have work in the morning but fuck it. Send me the address.” I responded.

Twenty minutes later I stood outside his apartment door on the third floor of a quiet building a couple towns over. My heart was pounding hard. I knocked twice.

The door opened.

Ryan stood there shirtless in nothing but a pair of gray sweatpants sitting low on his hips. His chest and stomach were covered in dark hair mixed with gray. His shoulders and arms still carried the muscle from years of coaching and lifting. He looked at me with heavy, hungry eyes and stepped aside.

“Holy fuck,” I said under my breath as I walked in.

He closed the door, turned to the kitchen counter, and poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed one to me. I took a sip. The burn went straight down.

Ryan didn’t speak. He stepped closer, set his glass down, and reached for my shirt. His thick fingers undid the top three buttons smoothly. Then he leaned in, pressed his mouth to the side of my neck, and started kissing me there. His beard scratched against my skin. One hand slid under the back of my shirt, rough and warm as it moved up my spine.

I took another sip of whiskey while his mouth worked lower, sucking lightly at the spot where my neck met my shoulder. His other hand stayed on my lower back, pulling me closer until my hips bumped against his.

We never finished the drinks. Ryan took the glass from my hand, set it aside, and nodded toward the hallway. I followed him into the bedroom. The only light came from a small lamp on the nightstand. The bed was already turned down.

He pushed the door shut and took full control. He stripped the rest of my clothes off slowly, then shoved me back onto the bed. He climbed on top of me, his heavy, hairy body pressing me into the mattress.

He took his time. He pushed my legs up and back, then buried his face between my cheeks. His beard rubbed rough against my skin while his tongue worked me open, slow and wet. I gripped the sheets and let out low groans every time he pushed deeper. He kept going until my hole was slick and relaxed.

When he finally pulled back, he grabbed a condom, rolled it on, and lubed up. He lined himself up and pushed inside me. The stretch burned at first, but once he was all the way in, pure bliss took over. Ryan fucked me deep and steady, his hips rolling in a strong, controlled rhythm. His hairy chest hovered over me as he held my legs open. Every thrust felt better than the last.

We fucked for at least half an hour. The room filled with the sound of skin slapping skin and my moans growing louder. Ryan stayed in charge, shifting angles until he hit the spot that made my back arch off the bed.

Finally I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Please take off the condom,” I said, voice rough.

Ryan paused mid-thrust, eyes dark. “Fuck kid, you don’t have to tell me twice.”

He pulled out, ripped the condom off, and tossed it aside. His bare cock looked even thicker now, slick and flushed. He pushed back inside me in one smooth motion.

He leaned down closer, still fucking me deep. One big hand wrapped around my lubed cock and started stroking me slowly, twisting at the head on every upstroke. His other hand found my left nipple, rolling and pinching it. Then he leaned in and kissed me, beard scratching my face, tongue sliding into my mouth.

That pushed me over the edge. My whole body tensed and I came hard, shooting across my stomach and chest while he kept stroking me through it. My hole clenched tight around him.

Ryan lasted another five minutes. His thrusts got shorter and harder. Then his breathing changed. He buried himself deep, let out a low guttural groan, and came. His face twisted in the hottest way — jaw tight, eyes half-shut, mouth open just enough to show his teeth. I felt every pulse as he filled me up.

He stayed inside me for a long moment afterward, both of us breathing hard. His sweaty, hairy chest pressed against mine while his cock slowly softened.

We lay there in the afterglow, bodies slick with sweat. Ryan’s heavy chest rose and fell against my side, his arm resting across my stomach.

After a few minutes he turned his head toward me.

“You clean?” he asked, voice low and rough.

I let out a small laugh. “Damn Coach, don’t you trust me?”

Ryan gave me a strange look and pushed himself up on one elbow.

“Wait, fuck… do you know me?”

What a weird way to phrase that question, I thought.

“Yeah Coach,” I said. “I was on your team for four years. You made me captain senior year. Don’t you remember?”

His face changed. “Fuck… shit shit.” He rubbed a hand across his face. “He told me not to do this. He’s gonna be pissed.”

He stared at the ceiling, then shrugged. “Oh well. Nothing I can do about it now. Guess it’s his problem.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

Ryan let out a long breath. “This isn’t my real body. I’m not actually Ryan. My name is Cruz. We swapped for a few days using this site called SwapService.”

I stared at him. “Swapped?”

“Yeah. Ryan and I swapped bodies.” He ran a hand through the short graying hair. “How it works is you enter your own body stats — height, weight, age, build, everything. Then you put in the type of guy you want to swap with. The site gives you compatibility percentages with people looking to swap. Ryan and I hit like 85%.”

I stayed quiet for a second, then asked, “Why would Ryan ever want to swap?”

Cruz scratched at the thick hair on his chest. “I don’t remember every detail, but he said he’s been reckoning with his sexuality. He wanted to experiment with being an openly gay man for a few days. Guess he’s been in the closet a long time.”

He shrugged Ryan’s broad shoulders.

“The only rules he gave me was to stay DL and safe. He’s not out to anyone, not even his doctor, so he’s not on PrEP. He didn’t want it getting back to anyone he knows. So fucking one of his old swimmers raw…” He let out a short laugh. “That was a double no in his book.”

I looked at him and gave a stunted, incredulous laugh. “So do you swap often then?”

Cruz laughed low in Ryan’s deep voice and scratched at the thick hair on his chest. “Oh, I do it all the time. I like being older muscle hunks. Lets me fuck guys like you.” He looked me up and down slowly, eyes still hungry. “Young, lean, blonde jocks with tight asses. Never gets old.” He reached over and gave my thigh a squeeze before continuing. “And you felt even better and tighter than most.”

I felt my face heat up. Cruz leaned back against the pillows, looking completely relaxed in Ryan’s body.

I couldn’t stop myself from asking more. I was dying to know what kind of guy Ryan would actually trade this body for.

“So… what kind of body did you leave behind?” I asked, trying to keep my voice casual. “You must have offered Ryan something he really wanted if he agreed to the swap.”

Cruz grinned, Ryan’s bearded face looking amused. He reached over to the nightstand, grabbed his phone, and scrolled for a second before turning the screen toward me. The photo showed a 23-year-old Latino guy with a muscular twink build — smooth tan skin, sharp jawline, dark hair, and a tight six-pack. He was shirtless in a gym mirror, flexing with a cocky smile.

“That’s me,” Cruz said. “My real body.”

He locked the phone and tossed it back onto the nightstand. “I don’t like being a twink. Never have. So I swap all the time. Usually, once I’m a few days into a swap and the guy is really enjoying himself, I ask if he wants to make it permanent. Still haven't gotten on to say yes though. It's a big commitment I guess and I only offer to swap with the hottest guys.”

Cruz shrugged Ryan’s broad shoulders, his thick fingers idly scratching through the graying hair on his chest.

“I haven’t asked Ryan yet, though. Wasn’t sure how he’d react.”

My mind started spinning with possibilities.

If Ryan was willing to swap with a guy like Cruz — a complete stranger — then maybe he’d be open to swapping with me too. And if he liked being in my younger, lean, blonde body… maybe he’d agree to make it permanent.

All of the sudden, I pictured myself waking up inside Ryan’s body for good. Looking down at this thick, hairy chest every morning. Feeling the weight of these heavy muscles. Walking around with this deep voice and this powerful build. My cock started getting hard again just thinking about it, twitching against my stomach as the fantasy took hold.

Cruz noticed immediately. His eyes dropped to my growing erection and a slow, knowing smirk spread across Ryan’s face.

“Looks like you’re ready for round two already.”

He rolled on top of me again and pushed my legs apart. “And for the rest of the night, you still call me Ryan. Got it?”

“Yes, Ryan,” I breathed, voice already thick with need.

He lined himself up and slid back inside me raw, slow and deep. I groaned loudly as he bottomed out.

Ryan started thrusting in a steady, powerful rhythm, his heavy, hairy body moving over mine.

With every thrust, I imagined running my hands over this thick chest, feeling the weight of Ryan’s muscles under my fingers.

“Ryan…” I moaned.

He picked up the pace, hips snapping harder as he drove deeper into me.

I pictured myself lifting his arm and burying my face in his hairy pit, inhaling his scent while I was in his body.

“Fuck… Ryan,” I gasped.

Cruz leaned down, beard scraping against my neck as he growled in my ear, “You like that, kid?”

Another deep thrust made my back arch.

I imagined wrapping my hand around Ryan’s thick cock — my new cock — and jerking off slowly in front of the mirror, watching his body respond.

“Ryan… fuck, Ryan!” I cried out, voice breaking.

His thrusts grew rougher, the sound of skin slapping skin filling the room.

The more he fucked me, the more certain I became.

I was going to become Ryan.

No matter what it took.

He pinned my wrist harder to the bed, pounding into me with deep, possessive strokes.

I saw myself bending Ryan over in my old body, sliding this fat cock inside him and fucking him deep after he finally agreed to make the swap permanent. I imagined finally cumming inside him.

“Ryan… don’t stop,” I moaned desperately, my hole clenching around him.

Cruz leaned closer, voice low and rough against my ear. “You’re so fucking tight.”

Every powerful thrust pushed me closer to the edge while the fantasy burned hotter in my mind.

This body was going to be mine.

I never thought the stupid body-swap ritual my best friend Ryan and I tried as a joke would actually work. Ryan and I have been best mates for years now since high school. After high school, Ryan grew stronger, hitting the gym, getting huge, but I stayed much the same… average, skinny, boring.

Now I’m the one sitting on the shoulder-press machine in Ryan’s ridiculously jacked body, staring at the stacked plates in disbelief.

I used to struggle just to push 60kg.

Today I loaded the machine with every single plate I could find, the big yellow 15s, blues, greens, the kind of weight that would’ve made me cry in my old body. I gripped the bar, took a breath… and pressed.

It flew up like it weighed nothing.

“Holy… fuck…” I groaned in Ryan’s deep voice, eyes wide as I pumped out rep after perfect rep. Each push made his thick chest and shoulders explode with power. Veins popped across my new biceps and forearms. The pump was insane… warm, tight, addictive.

I racked the weight and just sat there panting, running my hands over Ryan’s shredded abs and solid pecs, feeling how effortlessly strong this body was.

I laughed out loud, still in shock.

“Dude… I can’t believe how fucking easy this is,” I muttered, flexing one massive arm in the mirror. The bicep peaked hard, round and vascular. “These weights feel like toys in thus body.”

I loaded even more plates, then pressed them again, moaning softly at how good it felt, the burn, the power, the way every muscle responded perfectly to my command.

I took a quick mirror selfie, still breathing hard, sweat glistening on my new chest. I turned around to stare at the original Ryan, sat in my old scrawny body, watching me.

“Bro… I’m never swapping back. This body lifts like a fucking beast.”

I flexed again, admiring how Ryan’s muscles moved under my control, already getting hard in my shorts just from how strong I felt.

I’ve developed a crush on my roommate Aly. I’ve had these feelings for a while now and I just feel hopeless. I’ve tried making a few moves here and there but I don’t think I’m getting through to her. I’d typically lust after the frat boys that attend our school but it’s so different with her. We share so many interests, humor, media and all that, and I’ve never seen a girl as hot as her before. She’s so comfortable with me around that she doesn’t even mind walking around our place in her tight nighttime clothes, it’s so hard to sit still when I see her like that.

I don’t see her running around with guys all that often but when she does I get so jealous. Watching her lock lips with some jock or hearing her getting plowed by some meat-headed frat boy would bounce me off the walls. I’d give anything to be the one on top of her. I only bring this up because she’s been seeing this guy recently. A hunk, of course. She really had a type I guess. I’ve only seen him a few times. He’s big alright. A big, burly 230 pound slab of pure strength. His messy black hair and dark stubbled chin made him look insanely dashing despite his profession and god, his body. His pecs were nice and plump, I just wanted to grab a handful of them and his arms were so fucking huge. His biceps are big and beefy. They looked so big that I think I could hang off them if he flexed hard enough. Aly definitely had a type, but this guy in particular was stunning.

They’ve only had a few dates and me and Aly would talk after each one. I’d try and probe their relationship as much as possible, especially all the sexy details. Fortunately for me, she hasn’t gone all the way with him yet, but the two had really good chemistry together. It was inevitable that they’d fuck, and I’d have to be the one hearing her moans from a distance. I was bummed out. I’d panic whenever she went out to spend time with him. The idea of him smashing her curvy, petite body underneath those muscles drove me mad. I felt cornered, doomed. I couldn’t bear her being with anyone else but me. I’d have to use my powers or else I might just go crazy.

I faked being sick and asked Aly if she could go out and run a few errands for me. She’s so caring so she happy obliged and told me to get some rest while she went out to make a care package for me. A few minutes after she left I jumped up and decided to give her little “boy toy” Max a visit. I walked over to his frat house, a million thoughts ran through my head. “How am I gonna get him alone? What if his body is resistant to my powers? What if I can’t fill his role?” I almost thought about backing out but when my gut started telling me to stop, I found myself already knocking on the front door of his frat house. I almost ditched out, but a jock in a tight t-shirt answered the door. Not Max, but definitely one of his friends. Birds of a feather I guess. “Oh hey Liz, whatcha need?” he said with a smirk, I could see his eyes creeping up and down my body but I did my best to ignore his perverted gaze. “Uh..yeah is Max around?” I say awkwardly, trying to look around the doorway instead of focusing on him. His face seemed to droop in disappointment. He said before saying “Uh, yeah. Max is upstairs. He’s working out pretty hard, he has a match next weekend so he’s training extra hard today. Try not to bother him too much.” He steps aside and invites me in and I cautiously walk into the house. The floor is littered with gym equipment, beer cans, and burned down joints. Typical I guess. I begin walking up the stairs and I can hear a loud grunting coming from one of the rooms.

I walk closer and the grunts progressively get louder and louder, morphing into mighty roars of exhaustion echoed by the clanking of heavy metal. The door is cracked and I stop myself from barging in. I peek into the room slowly and there he was. Max is dressed in a small grey tank top and black gym shorts. His tank was covered in large dark spots of musky sweat and his gigantic arms and pits were bursting from the large arm holes on both of his sides. He was lying down on the bench, doing intense reps with a big iron bar that was covered in giant metal weights. Holy shit, It looked like he could’ve benched two of me. He roared in between reps as he benched the overwhelmingly heavy bar over and over. He was so hyped from the weight that I could even make out his dick bulging hard against his black shorts. Fuck, there’s no more wonder now. Of course Aly was into this guy, he was a total beast. His handsome, masculine face looked red and fatigued and he pumped the bar desperately to finish his last grueling set. I couldn’t sit still again. I began twisting in place as I watched his muscles bulge and thrust out as he bench pressed over and over again. He was really pushing himself hard. With one final shout, he lifted the massive bar high into the air before setting it down on its rest. For a minute he laid there, breathing deeply, trying his hardest to catch his breath. His chest swelled up and pushed the carbon out of his big athletic lungs. God he’s so hot, that tank wasn’t helping either. The way it clung to his chest and squeezed the muscle like skinny, groping fingers made my knees weak. He lied there for a minute. Then another. And another. His arms swung lazily on the sides of the bench and I became a bit worried. I flung open the door and asked “Hey max, you alright?”

No response. He laid there almost motionless but I could still see his chest sucking in and pushing out as he slept on the bench. He was out cold from the workout. His eyes were closed shut and his breaths became less desperate and more rhythmic as time went on. I shook him a bit, trying my best to wake him up, even lightly yelling his name. Nothing worked. This was actually perfect.

Here he was, the 6’2 giant of a man was mine to control, sprawled out and presented to me like a gift from god. I close the door behind me and lock it and begin stripping naked. It felt so strange to be in a strange place nude but I had to get over my insecurity. It almost felt scummy to do this with my crush’s date but it had to be done. I walk up to the bench and pull his shorts off completely. After they’re off, a huge bulging mound is revealed on his crotch. A nice compacted mound, filled with his thick cock. I almost felt the urge to try something but I had to focus on the task at hand. I turned my back to him and laid down on top of his massive, muscle brimmed figure. Admittedly I took so much pleasure from lying on top of his sexy body but I kept my focus. I balanced myself on his muscle covered body and pulling up his briefs. I slip my legs inside, making sure to leave enough space for me to fit in somewhat comfortably. So far so good, until I feel his cock pressed firmly against the back of my thighs as I slide inside. It felt almost wrong and I squirmed a bit in reaction. This was Aly’s date, what a shitty friend touches their friend’s date like this? It’s all for the greater good Liz, just calm down. I take a deep breath and sink lower into the breaths, letting out soft quiet moans as his hard cock slides against my body. His cock is pressing firmly against my ass but I ignore my lustful urges and peel back his tank.

While pulling back his tank I unveiled his shredded abs, They were compact and hard, harder than his dick even. They felt like chiseled stone as my fingers ran across them. God, what a body. I can’t wait til Aly sees me in this. I free enough space in his tank to tuck myself inside and then I feel a wave of vibrations pulsing between our two naked bodies. I begin sinking into him slowly while staying on top of him. I close my eyes shut tightly and push my ass into his crotch fast. It felt so good as his rock hard cock shoved inside of me. It felt like I was cheating on my friend, my crush, but I knew it would all be justified soon enough. I sink deep down into his wide, powerful hips until I can feel his cock twitching as it poked out hard from his body. I could feel his large trunk-like legs as if they were mine. No, they are mine. His cock too. It felt so strange but god, it really did feel good. All the hours of porn I’ve watched couldn’t prepare me for this. My new dick was thick and girthy, I could just tell by the the feeling of it shooting out of my giant waist. It was a nice length and the shaft was covered in pinkish veins. It was nice and girthy too. I never would have thought that having a cock would feel this good. The thoughts running through my mind of pounding Aly’s tight little body made my throbbing pole ache and quiver. “Mmmm Aly, I can’t wait for you to see me like this!” I exclaimed.

A realization came to me and I turn my head up towards Max’s face. I didn’t notice his moans as I merged with his body, no doubt he was feeling the merging pleasures too. His workout was still mega intense, he was still knocked out and winded. Thank god, I could continue without stress. I press my back into his torso. I sunk down into his muscled frame. His cut, rock hard abs pushed against my back. Feeling their tight mass sink into my body felt amazing. That chest of his absorbed me so easily. The merge was almost complete and his brawny chest had nearly swallowed my cute, slender frame. When I get low enough inside of his body, I lean back my head and push into his rough, masculine face. I close my eyes and let the big unconscious hunk absorb the my head and the rest of my torso.

My eyes are still closed but my chest tightens fiercely. It’s so hard to breath. I gasp for air and my chest feels way different than before. My chest feels musclebound and burly. I finally open my eyes and look down my bulging, hair chest. “Holy shit…” I whisper while taking in the view. I gasp in shock and covered my mouth with my new big meaty hands. My voice. It’s so deep now. It scared the shit out of me but in a way, I really liked the way I sounded. I bring down my gigantic mitts for hands so I can get another view at that big, husky chest. Small black hairs run down the length of my barrel-chested frame. I traced the rows of hair down my chest until they disappeared beneath my damp, smelly tank. “Fuck, I feel kind of gross.” I say before grabbing the neck hole of the tank with my right hand and lifting it up. The view was amazing. The dark hairs glistened with sweat as the light shined on them. I traced the glimmering stubble down between my sexy, bunching pecs. I was so excited that my pecs were squeezing together nice and tight, their muscle bunched together so roughly. “So….hot.” I let out a wide cocky smile as I stare at my own amazing figure. I never knew being a stud could feel so good.

I barely noticed before but my athletic musk escaped the tank top as I peeled it off my swollen torso. The smell no longer bothered me, it actually really turned me on, I could feel my monster of a cock struggle to break out of the tight briefs. I take a look at my big muscle covered arms. My guns were thick and powerful. I stared deeply into their overwhelming mass before instinct kicked in. I flexed them nice and hard, letting my veiny muscles become even more defined and prominent. My biceps bulged out and the taut skin that covered them turned a light shade of red as I pushed harder to flex them even more. My hairy armpits became deeper and deeper as I flexed. They were so nice to look at. I never even noticed how hot pits could be on a guy. The way my muscles surrounded my hair covered made them look nice and deep. Their masculine physique made my cock uncontrollable. “I should really get going before someone sees me. I should really….” My thoughts stop dead in their tracks. I can’t rip my gaze away from my muscular cannons. I became curious and grabbed the middle of the bar hovering over my chiseled face. I grab it hesitantly, feeling unsure of my ability, but the urge to lift was coursing through me. My herculean chest because heavy with anticipation and I finally lift the bar from the rack and start pumping the bar up and down.

Holy fuck, I’m doing it! I can’t mutter the words, the heavy bar is taking all my concentration. Max really fucking stacked this thing before training. The first person view of my iron pumping athletic body was to die for. My biceps bulged and poked out of my arms as I thrusted the heavy bar into the air with loud monstrous grunts. The bar was heavy, almost too heavy, but my reps became steady and rhythmic as I benched over and over. I got so used to the workout that I let out quiet “fuck yeahs” as I heaved the bar up and down. A surge of stress and power coursed through my new strapping bod. It made my skin tingle, and the muscle in my chest began to ripple as I pumped the heavy iron. It made my dick the hardest I’ve ever seen. I put the bar back on its rest before I completely exhaust myself like Max had done when I found him. I breath deeply, and slowly run my giant hands around my brawny chest, rubbing the beads of sweat into my soaked, coated pecs. I lift my tank again to look at their nice, oiled texture. Fuck yes! I look down, past my rippling chest and tight abs to take a gander at my bulge. It was nice and big, filled with my throbbing girthy member.

I slowly reach my hands down to touch the monster, but before I get the chance to finally stroke my new play toy, I hear a knock on the door. Fuck, just when I was getting to the good part. “Y-yeah just a sec!” I bellow nervously as I pull up my shorts, trying my best to hide my giant erection. I pull the front of my shirt over my crotch to try and hide it and I answer the door. Aly steps back with a shocked expression on her face. “O-oh.” She mutters as she looks up and down my shredded, sweat covered body. “Did you forget about our walk?” Shit, I knew I was missing something. I forgot that I told her that I’d be ready around this time for our date. “Damn, sorry about that. Here, I probably stink huh? I’ll take a shower real quick.” My words seem kind of stumbled but my deep voice saves the conversation from becoming awkward. I begin retreating back into the room, almost closing the door until I hear her say “Or, you could just change out of your workout clothes and come now.” The way she phrased it almost seemed as if she was asking me. I could see her legs shifting, she almost seemed shy about her statement. It was cute. I flash her a grin before saying “Alright, give me a bit, I’ll be out.”

I change into my casual attire. One of my school wrestling shirts with the school’s mascot on the front and a different change of shorts. We meet outside and start our date. We walk around campus continuing conversation from previous nights, joking around and making connecting through nonsensical banter. I’ve never seen this side of Aly, almost like a partner. God I’ve wanted this for so long, and having a body like this was definitely a plus. We continue our walk around, eventually leading to a local park. For a moment we become silent. I feel like something was wrong so I stop staring at my surrounds and return my attention towards Aly. I catch her staring at my enormous bouncing pecs as we walk forward. She was totally checking me out. It even seemed like she walked closer to get a better view at my muscled arms and bursting chest. Catching her off guard like that felt good in a way. Luckily for me, she didn’t notice me looking at her, so I go back and stare forward. I catch her by surprise again, and wrap my large muscled around around her cute, slender body, and pull her against me. “Having a good time babe?” I ask her as I pull her in tightly against my powerful chest. Her face turns red in reaction. So adorable, a girl as great as Aly getting hot and bothered by my amazing body. I can’t help but grin. She looks up towards my dashing face and nods before smiling back towards me.

During our walk we stopped for food, caught up with a few of Aly’s and Max’s, I mean, my friends, and went out to see a movie. The whole time, I felt a bit embarrassed about my post workout funk. Time and time again I found myself lifting my deep hairy pits to try and gauge the smell of my body. Everytime I checked it was no good, and I began to sweat more and more as our date went on. I shook it off, trying to convince myself that she probably didn’t even notice it all that much. After the movie, it was pretty late and it had gotten pretty dark out. The outside was pretty clear, hardly another person in sight. It made me a bit uneasy so I made sure to press Aly against my powerful body once again in case I needed to protect her. She seemed tired, and clung to my body tightly. Her eyes seemed closed, and I caught her taking in my strong athletic scent. No wonder she told me not to shower. “You doing alright babe?” I ask her as she lies her head on my bulky left pec. “I’m fine.” She answers. Her voice seemed drained and as cute as ever. “Do you mind walking me all the way home this time, daddy?” My heart almost dropped after hearing her say that. Daddy? I didn’t know what to think about the pet name, but my cock sure did. I could feel my shaft growing thicker as the word resonated throughout my muscled being. Daddy. Daddy. Daddy. The word replayed in my head in her soft, soothing voice. I really, really liked it when she called me that. That same cock grin spreads across my scruff, masculine face before I say “Sure babe, anything you want.”

After a few more minutes of walking, we find ourselves finally standing in front of her dorm. She lifts her head off my beefy chest and before I can let out my ‘goodbye’, she stares deeply into my eyes. Her eyes shine brightly and I look back into hers. I never noticed how pretty they were. I lean down and kiss her deeply. We lock lips, and I can feel my dark, scratchy stubble tickle her face, but she doesn’t seem to mind. She wraps her slender arounds around the top of my large, rounded shoulders and pulls me forward. I follow her lead, eventually pinning her to her front door. We kiss more and more before we both pull back to catch our breath. That was my first time kissing a woman. Before the merge, I was bisexual, but I never had the opportunity to experiment with another girl. Locking lips with Aly was hotter than anything I could ever imagined. My heart began to race and I let my urges take over. “I want you so bad.” I whisper close to her face. My gruff voice sounds deeper than ever, and I can see her biting her lower lip. Seeing her pose so cutely like that drove me crazy. And what she said next drove me even crazier. “You’ll have to wrestle me into submission then, daddy.”

The chains were off, I kiss her wildly, I couldn’t stop myself even if I wanted. She kissed back almost as urgently, like it was the last of her life. She fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door and let us inside. She pulls away and closes the door behind us before playfully pulling me towards the bedroom, guiding me by grabbing my giant hands, now slightly sweaty hands. We kissed periodically before finally reaching the foot of her bed. She begins to resist my pull, playfully teasing me, testing my raging lobido. We laugh together and I grab her by her waist and I fill my giant palms up with her amazing ass. I grope her butt a bit longer, savoring it’s soft, squishy feel. God, no wonder guys loved butts so much, this feels amazing. I slid my body against hers and I gently push her onto the bed and she falls with a slight giggle. She bites her finger, and looks straight at my face, wearing the hottest pair of “fuck me eyes” that I’ve ever seen on a person. “Mmmm is daddy all nice and hard for me?” she says biting the tip of her finger. Her pose gave off a sexy, cutesy aura that I found irresistible, the question almost didn’t even resonate with me at first. I would’ve completely forgotten about my dick if it weren’t so rock hard at this point. Even the daddy talk had me lost for a second.

I do my best to shrug off my confusion before snapping back to my hunky personality. I give her a nice toothy grin before pulling down the front of my shorts, revealing my throbbing bulge to her. “Of course I’m hard for you babe. You’re so fucking sexy.” I pull off my shirt, showing off my glimmering, statuesque chest. I remembered how much she loved my huge muscles, I bounced my pecs effortlessly to add a little flair, she really, really liked that. I was glowing with confidence, and this body was certainly backing me up. “Mmm Max” she moaned as she ran her hands down her curvy body. “I want your fat cock.” She pulled off her pants, showing me the cute underwear she was wearing underneath. She pulled them off slowly, she crossed her legs to cover her naked crotch. She smiled smugly, knowing that I was lusting for the goods that she was hiding between her curvy thighs. Once her underwear slide completely off her legs, Aly spread them wide, revealing her pussy towards me. I’ve been thinking of this for so long, seeing her like this in person seemed almost unreal. Her lips were pursed together and seemed moist to the touch, god she looked so fucking tight. Seeing her legs spread open just for me was such a sight to behold. I’m so glad that I have a cock right now, the scene wouldn’t have looked nearly as amazing if I was still in my old body. My eyes widen, and I pull down my briefs quickly and show her my heavy erection. I gripped my cock firmly in my meaty hands, stroking my thickening shaft as I stared into her eyes, giving the same “fuck me” expression that she gave me earlier. I grab each of her thighs and lift her legs in the air. A soft “Ooooh” resounds from her lips as I raise her legs. I pin her against the bed, being firm, while still remaining gentle with her. I press my chiseled body against her, pushing my burly, naked chest against hers while I slowly move the tip of my cock between her soft, wet lips. She bites her lower lip again, moaning softly as I teased her sensitive lips. “Does that feel nice babe?” I ask confidently, but on the inside, I’m still unsure about what I’m doing right and wrong. “Oh yes daddy! Your cock feels so good against me!” she exclaims before wrapping her hands around the size of my biceps. “Your arms too.”

I look towards my arms and begin flexing them, letting my biceps bulge against her sexy, petite body. She began to shudder underneath my slabs of raw muscle, I loved watching her shake in excitement. I flexed my arms against her, and puffed out my burly chest, pushing my bulking pecs against her body, while still edging my cock inside of her vagina slowly. She began moaning over and over, she couldn’t get enough of my athletic physique, but I’m just getting started. I push my hips into her and finally, my cockhead bobs into her pussy. Damn she was nice and tight. The hug of her pussy squeezed my tip incredibly well, the pleasure was indescribable. My breaths became unsteady and I push on. I slowly, gently, sink my cock deeper into her tight, wet, little hole, feeling her squeeze my massive, thickening shaft. My the time I was completely inside her, I was at full mast. I could even feel her walls tighten and rub against the veins that riddled my thick shaft. I moan deeply and exclaim “Fuck babe. You’re so fucking tight. Just for daddy.” I stir my hips, thrusting my cock in and out of her body, building up a rhythm as I hump her tight, naked body. “Mmm yes Max” she moans as she wraps her arms around my rippling, muscled back. “Just for daddy.”

I press more against her body, her petite frame begins to shake violently as I begin pounding her tight hole faster and faster. I grunted heavily as I fill up her amazing pussy. It’s hug felt perfect for a girthy cock like mine. Her moans fill the air. They’re so soft and cute, they only fuel me to pump her harder. “Fuck yeah babe. You love this don’t you? Being pumped by such a thickset stud. You’ve probably dreamed of this since the day you saw me huh?” I say firmly while pumping her full of my thick, aching shaft. She shakes as she slides up and down my shaft. She’s progressively pumping on it faster and faster. It’s become nice and slick from her juices as I pound the fuck out of her. “Y-yes daddy! I love you cock so much!” she screams as I ram her against the bed, still pinning her down with my overpowering muscles. I pull my chest up a bit and wrap my arms around her body with ease, and begin pulling her up towards me while still thrusting my cock into her over and over. I once again press her chest against mine, and begin licking and kissing up the length of her neck soft. I touch her delicately with my monstrous hands while fucking her nice and rough with my veiny, muscular rod.

I begin thrusting into her tight pussy faster and faster, slowly edging on her walls hugging my cock. I lean forward and whisper into Aly’s ear, “You’re mine now. No one’s taking you away from me.” She moaned loudly, progressively getting louder and louder as I used all of my athletic strength to pound and stretch her hole. Deep and deep I push into her vagina, stretching its walls while savoring the warm, massaging squeeze of her hole. “Deeper daddy! Deeper! I want to feel you bust inside of me!” she screamed desperately. My eyes shoot open. I’m almost ripped away from our coiling form as her pleas ring throughout my body. My first time blowing my load as a guy, and I get to let it all go inside of Aly’s tight hole. I’m overjoyed and eager to milk my load inside of her. Then, I suddenly notice. She’s cumming all over the length of my massive shaft. I can feel her hole coating my vibrating cock even more heavily now. Her body twitches and convulses wildly and I pump relentlessly. Her mounds become muted, and suddenly, a sharp moan resonates throughout my hunky figure. Her pleasure was so apparent and overwhelming that it gave me goosebumps even while I continued to pump her tight hole.

Her pussy starts to contract and clench down my shaft, milking my cock even harder. I use all my stamina and start pumping her deeper with every stroke. I’m ramming her so hard that the bed is bouncing up and down violently. I bunch my biceps and meat covered forearms around her body and I press my swollen chest and pecs against her breasts. I tighten my abs and press them against her stomach as I reach as deep as I can on my final stroke. I kiss her passionately, silencing both of our moans as my cock spews ropes of hot cum deep inside of her. I can feel my seed seeping out of my cock head and coating her walls all over. I stop kissing her to let out a loud moan that resonates throughout the entire bedroom. Once we both catch our breath, I pull out and watch a stream of my seed flow out between her lips. It was so hot and satisfying, like a mark, proving that she was mine, and mine alone. Afterwards, we lie down next to each other, exhausted from our hot session. She turns over, facing her back towards me, and I use my big strong arms to pull her closer again my chest. I kiss her on the cheek and say “Good night babe” before drifting off in the best night’s sleep that I’ve ever had in my life.

*First, I want to say I know I kinda copied the narrative voice of a few of my favorite blogs–some that are still here, some that are gone.  Just wanted to say ya’ll inspired me to write this on the side about a real life stud I know–And I’ll work on making my own voice and finding my own thing.  Til then, imitation is the best form of flattery, right?*

Will was alone for the week. No wife. No pets.  Just him and the house to himself.  

Oh I’ve got big plans for you Will—Big plans for that tight body of yours.  The handsome Manly stud was resting peacefully in bed, wearing just a white t-shirt and boxers.  

I don’t even want to wait—I just rush toward my new vessel.  

“Huh!” Will gasps out as my astral form begins pouring right into his chest.

His arms and legs flail and his toes clench tight.  He’s grunting and grabbing madly at the sheets, still so confused by the surge of energy flowing into him.  

He arches his back and yelps as I flood into every limb and corner of his body.  

“No…Please…” he says between pants and moans as my energy enters alignment, taking control of his body bit by bit.  

Will is practically in convulsions at this point as the last of my energy enters his chest and I surge up to fill his head.  The Manly stud gasps one last breath before collapsing onto the bed in a relaxed heap.

I open my eyes and look up at an unfamiliar ceiling.  I also feel my heartbeat slowing down and I feel a light glisten of sweat.  Then I look down and see the unraveled sheets of Will’s bed, along with his toned legs and a glimpse of those chiseled abs from his raised shirt.  

“Oh fuck yeah…” I say in a sexy voice, especially sexy since it’s his voice bending to my will.  

My new dick hops slightly, and I am surprised by how much blood I sense pumping and engorging my new member.  

“Wow, look at that thing!” I say in awe as I grab that cock through the silky fabric and feel a surprising amount of length and girth.  

Excited, I kick the boxers off and watch as Will’s dick grows to a thick 8 inches.  

“Holy Shit!” I say in wonder as I grab it and give it a pump of appreciation.  “And here I thought I would just be using your tight ass!  But this cock is definitely going to be doing some fucking!”

I rub my muscular legs together as I yank the shirt off, leaving me naked and able to admire this smooth, toned body.  

“Fuck, you take care of yourself,” I marvel as I rub my hands up and down this carved torso, running my hands along the defined lines of these chiseled pecs and abs.  

Will shaved recently so he is quite smooth, but I am still relieved to see a healthy amount of armpit hair, some nice leg hair, and nicely groomed pubes.  Huffing my new pits, I can’t help but go in for more as I basked in my new musk—it was so pleasant and almost neutral, as if this body’s natural odor was like a light cologne.  

“Oh this is gonna be fun…”

I was passing well enough for the most part.  Some of my jokes didn’t resonate with his friends, but I wasn’t too out of the ordinary…yet…

Nick, from United, was super drunk at the party we all went to, and I stepped in, assuring everyone I’d get him home safe.  They all agreed and thanked me—it was hard for me not to smirk though as I put one of Nick’s arms around my shoulder and helped the stumbling dude back to Will’s room…

“Dude… this isn’t my place…” Nick said, slurring the words, but not nearly as badly as at the party.

“Just relax,” I assured him as I gently pushed him onto the bed.  “You can stay in my bed tonight.  Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“Sounds a little gay,” Nick said with a laugh.  

“Only if I do this,” I say right as I reach my hand down to Nick’s crotch and begin gently rubbing him through his pants.  

“Wh-what are you? Dude—St-ahhhhhhhhhh-Stop!” Nick says as he tries to squirm away.  He’s still too drunk though.  

“Man, look at how hard you got.  So fast and even with all that liquor in your system.”

“The fuck’s the matter with you, Will.  This isn’t like you.”

“Sorry, Nick.  I guess there’s a new me that loves dick, and he’s here to stay,” I told him as I got his pants off and marveled at what must have been a 9 inch cock that was almost as thick as Will’s.  

“holy fuck that thing’s big! I don’t even know if I can fit it in this virgin hole!” I said with delight as I rushed to get my own pants off.

“What are you? Unggggg” Nick cooed in confusion as I got in the bed and began grinding my engorging rod against his throbbing meat.  The fabric of our boxers made us both gasp out from the friction, and I could tell he was shivering from my toned legs rubbing up against his.  I ran my hands under his shirt, taking in that toned and hairy torso. He grabbed my arms and tried to push me away, but once I reached his nipples and gave them a nice pinch, he twinged and put up noticeably less resistance.  

“You can’t do this…” Nick said as I ripped his shirt open, sending buttons flying.  

“I know you want this Nick. I know you want me,” I said with Will’s voice as I leaned down and sucked his left nipple, lapping it with my tongue and just barely biting it with my teeth.  Nick’s cock jumped—I could feel it as I kept grinding against him.  He was moaning now, gasping for air as his legs wriggled helplessly against mine.  

“Fuck I wanna get to the main act,” I said with impatience as I tore my own shirt off and tossed it on the floor.  I crawled off Nick and began pulling his underwear off.  He tried to sit up in protest, but I pushed him back onto his back, disorienting him for several seconds since his head was still spinning.  

As he looked up, groaning as the room was probably spinning, I kicked off my own boxers and grabbed the bottle of lube I had purchased earlier with Will’s money.  I wasted no time applying a healthy amount to my cleaned and prepped hole before grabbing Nick’s throbbing dick and getting him nice and slick.

I then straddled Nick, on my knees and looking down at him.  I grabbed his cock and lined it up with my ass cheeks.  

Nick’s eyes bugged wide open as I began my descent—I started just letting his cock glide between my crack, almost as if it were getting played like a harmonica.  

“Nooooo…nnnggggg…stop!” Nick begged as he gasped for breath and shivered from pleasure.  

“Nick, we’re just getting started,” I said with a voice full of lust as I lined his cock head with Will’s virgin hole.  

Nick looked up in horror as I began leaning back.  His jaw dropped and so did mine.  We both gasped for air as that cock head slowly stretched my unimaginably tight hole. I was grunting and groaning, slowly letting my hole stretch more and more until the head finally popped inside me. I clenched my toes and sighed as I smoothly dropped my weight, amazed at how easy it was to now take all nine inches. Fuck, Will was a natural.  

Nick shrieked as the last inch filled me up and I sat there, stuffed full of his rod.  I reared my head back and rubbed my hands over my abs and chest, entering a euphoria as Will’s body gave me so much pleasure.  My throbbing rod was leaking pre all over Nick’s lower abs just from the excitement of this no-longer-virgin hole being so full.  

But I wanted to feel that again.  

“Wh-what are you—Arrggghhhhhh fuck!” Nick yelled as I leaned up, slowly rising until just the head was left inside.  Then I sighed and shivered as I slowly sank back down, enjoying the feeling of getting filled up all over again.  

Nick kicked his legs out and curled his toes, undeniably turned on as Will’s tight hole massaged his throbbing rod.  

“Fuck yeah, Nick! You’re so big!” I said in a breathy voice as I began gently moving my hips around in circles.  

“You…nnnnnggggg…you have to stop…” Nick begged as his breathing picked up.  

I started grinding up and down off his rod, gently fucking myself on his meat over and over, gaining a little more length each time until I was practically pistoning myself up and down off his full length.  

Nick was gritting his teeth trying to hold back the yells of pleasure.  I didn’t hold anything back.  I yelled and hollered with delight as I rode my bull.  We were both drenched in sweat, and it must have been at least half an hour like this when I saw a new level of focus in Nick’s eyes.  

Fuck!  He must be sobering up.  He leaned up, no longer off balance like before and looked me right in the eye.  He was fully inside me, which made me feel helpless in case he was about to punch me. Instead, he grabbed my face and pulled me into the hottest make out I could ever imagine, now thrusting up into me as I sat on his gyrating cock.  

He growled as he hooked his arms underneath my armpits and began pistoning into me like I was a human fleshlight.  We both curled our toes and hollered loud enough for the floor to hear as we fuck in this entangled position.  

That was when he rolled us over so I was on my back.  

“You’re right.  I fucking want you so bad!” Nick growled as he leaned forward, stuffing me back full of his meat, making me yelp into his already waiting mouth.  

Our tongues explored each other’s and our hands explored each other’s chests and abs as I wrapped my legs around his thighs, pulling him toward me and adding power to each thrust.

My back arched as he struck my prostate, and I saw a sly smile as he realized what he had done. With animal-like desire, he struck that same spot again, and again, over and over again until I couldn’t stop clenching Will’s used hole.  

“Oh Will!  I’m gonna cum!  Gonna fucking—Agggghhhhhh GOD!!!!” Nick shouted as he pounded me full of his load—shot after shot of warm liquid flooded into me, making me feel euphoric inside as he released his manly essence in me.  With one last crashing shot, he slammed his dick back into me and passed out.  I was so turned on though—I wanted more.  I wanted to feel more dick up a virgin hole.  

In an instant, I let go of my hold over Will and let my astral essence flood into Nick’s slumbering form, right though his dick.  His passed out body just shook with no resistance as I took it over, but that shaking stimulated Will’s hole as I left.  I clenched my toes one last time before opening my eyes and looking at a stunned Will.  He gasped and arched his back before collapsing, passed out from shock and pleasure.

“Oh fuck yeah,” I said with Nick’s voice as I pulled my cock out of Will and watched the river of cum leak out.  I reached down and grabbed as much of it as possible—It was clean since I had prepped Will beforehand.  I smeared the cum along the entrance of this virgin hole and the rest all over Will’s wet with precum cock that never got a chance to blow.  I wouldn’t even need lube thanks to all this cum as I got on my knees and began lining Will’s cock with this virgin hole.  

Will just laid there, completely out as I pressed down and felt his cockhead widening Nick’s virgin entrance….

“Oh GOD!” I yelled as I took a deep breath and forced myself down, forcing that Will dick into me in one rushed motion.  Nick’s virgin hole had no prep and no opportunity to relax and widen, so he’d definitely be sore in the morning, but for now the thrill of the moment turned me on so much I didn’t even feel any pain.  I just felt full.  So full and so stretched as I took in the passed out stud’s meat.  I curled my toes and shook my head as I got used to the feeling of a virgin hole being stretched to its limits for the second time in one evening.  

Will’s cock was pulsating as I lifted up and sank back down, legs trembling as I built up my pace and fucked myself on his cock.  With him passed out, I’d have to do all the work, but it sure helped that I had worked Will up so much before moving into Nick.  

In just a few minutes I was screaming and bucking my hips like I was riding a wild stallion as I clenched Nick’s hole and committed myself to milking out that load. Finally, my efforts paid off as I saw Will’s breathing pick up in his sleep.  He was grunting and stirring and squirming as the pressure built up in his balls.  I could see the veins dilating on his lower abs as the blood flow rushed to his overwhelmed cock when finally, I sank back down and felt the torrential flow of his warm seed.  The thrill of Will’s unconscious load flooding into me made Nick’s cock launch a new load of cum all over our bodies and all over the bed as I rode Will wildly, sending Nick’s cock flopping around wildly.  I hadn’t even touched Nick’s dick, so I was in a great state of shock as I made it rain cum.  

Finally, I sank back down onto Will’s meat one last time and just sat there, stuffed full of his deflating meat.  The slumbering Will’s breathing was calming down and his tense muscles started to relax. I was in my own euphoria, but it was time to go “home.”  

Getting up, I sighed as I raised up off Will’s dick.  To my tremendous relief, Will’s dick was incredibly clean and there was no mess down there—a true credit to Nick’s commitment to a healthy diet and lifestyle. When you eat clean, back door fun is clean.  I laid down and lifted my ass in the air, making sure Will’s cum travelled so deep inside Nick’s system it wouldn’t leak out during the night.  Then I got in bed with Will and released my hold on Nick’s body.

I forced my astral essence into Will’s chest and met no resistance this time.  His body just tensed before his back arched and then I instantly woke up, staring at the ceiling and once again smelling the scent of intense fucking, only this time with Will’s nose.  

I looked over and saw Nick passed out.  I smiled and pulled the covers over our naked bodies.  

I woke up to Nick gently nudging my shoulder.  

“Dude.  Dude.  Will.”

“Huh?  Yeah?” I said groggily, at first forgetting who I was inhabiting.

“You can’t tell anyone about last night!” he said, half serious and half afraid.  

“You didn’t have a good time?” I asked with a light-hearted smirk.

“It…I was drunk.  And you were drunk, and one thing led to another…” he tried to rationalize.

“Look, Nick.  You don’t have to worry.  I won’t tell a soul as long as you answer my question honestly: Do you wanna do it again?”

Nick looked back and forth between me and the floor before gulping and saying, “Yes…”

“Me too, man.  Don’t worry—I won’t tell a soul—I just hope you got plenty more loads to pound inside me,” I said before licking my lips seductively.

I saw Nick’s cock stir, making him hastily get the rest of his clothes on before saying goodbye and heading out the door.  

I, on the other hand, smiled and groaned as I stretched Will’s lean and toned body and rolled around his filthy, cum-covered bed.  

“Hi Punchers!” I said with enthusiasm as I looked right into the camera.  

I was shirtless and I knew people would be drooling.  

“My name is Will, and I’m one of Chris’s friends.  I thought his channel was so cool, so I begged him for the chance to have my own little mini corner on his channel.”

I got to the reaction, making sure to keep it similar, yet different—one of the things I did was clench Will’s sculpted pecs instead of wave my hands like I usually would.  

The positive feedback was immediate with hundreds of comments immediately telling me how hot I was, how much people wanted to explore my body and have sex with me, along with torrents of subscribers asking if Will and I were a couple.  I commented that ‘Chris’ and I were just really good friends before adding a winking face.  My Will reaction quickly became my most viewed video, and I knew he would be my key to stardom.  

“Ohhhhh FUCK yeah! Right there!  Don’t fucking stop!  Pound me!  Pound that hole!” I commanded and begged as one of the sexy bartenders at a local bar fucked me in the men’s room.  

I had my hands planted against the wall as I felt his hairy chest rub against my back.  Our sweaty bodies were glistening from the friction as he bucked his hips to force his meat into me.  

“Duuuuude you’re so tight!” he said exasperated before growling and pulling my hair back and forcing me into a sloppy kiss.  

His rugged hands explored up and down my cut chest and abs before finding my throbbing and leaking meat and latching on.  I yelped as he began pumping me, timing his tugs on my dick with his thrusts into my hungry hole.  

“Gimme that load, man!” I begged as his breathing picked up.  His fingers dug into my hips as he pulled me harder and harder into his animalistic thrusts until he finally rammed our bodies together and howled into my ear as he unloaded inside me.  The feeling of him filling me up in that public restroom set me off and I howled as I succumbed to his stroking of my dick and began launching shot after shot of my seed over the bathroom wall.  We roared in unison as we unleashed our seed, but I felt lucky that I would get to leave with his inside me.  We finally settled down, his sweaty chest resting against my back as I held us both up.  

I turned around after he pulled out and he pushed me roughly against the wall, getting my cum all over my lower back as he forced me into a sloppy kiss.  

“I needed that,” he said with a grin before giving me his card.

I just gave him another kiss before grinning and pulling my pants and shirt back on, casually strolling out with a stranger’s load deep inside me.  

I got back to Will’s room and changed without showering before hopping onto the bed.  I had been having so much sex with so many different guys that I ended up using Will’s cash to buy 6 more sets of sheets—one for each day of the week.  

I drove Will’s car to a sex shop and bought several items of interest: a variety of dildos, a variety of lubes, and a tight ass fleshlight.  

The next day as I was getting ready for Will’s classes, I grinned at my reflection, so turned on by seeing that handsome Manly body under my control.  I admired Will’s naked body, something I was still not over—and something I don’t think I would ever be over.  That was when I grabbed the mid-size dildo I had gotten—a reasonably thick 7-inch model.  I slicked it up with some of the lube I had gotten and moaned in delight as I began sliding it inside me.  I raised up on my tippy toes and fell forward against the mirror as I slowly worked it in all the way to the hilt.  

“Oh fuck yeah…” I moaned as the last few millimeters settled inside me.  

“Fuck yeah, look at you, such a queer whore for cock,” I taunted Will’s reflection in the mirror.  

“You love being full don’t you.  Full of dick up your ass and full of me inside your body.”

“Yes!  I love being filled!” I imitated Will in an exaggerated slut voice.  

“Oh hell yeah today’s gonna be a fun day,” I said with a smirk as I held the dildo in place while maneuvering myself into the tightest compression shorts Will owned.  I wanted to spend the whole day feeling stuffed full and wide.  I put on some tighter fitting jeans that helped the dildo stay in place even more along with a polo that was probably half a size too small, but I loved the way it showed off this tight and toned body.  

It took all I had not to shiver and moan as I took my first steps. Walking made the dildo rub back and forth against my prostate in the perfect spot.  I’m glad I left early because it gave me a chance to take the scenic route as I walked to Will’s job.  

“shit yeah…” I said under my breath as each step just added more and more pleasure.  

That dildo was lodged firmly in place, ensuring it rubbed back and forth against Will’s incredibly sensitive prostate.  I was breathing deeply and practically laughing to mask the moans I wanted to make so so badly.  I got some strange looks, but I didn’t care.  I couldn’t help but rub my legs together from pure ecstasy as the pleasure jolted down my thighs all the way down to my toes like electric bursts.  

The best was yet to come though as I arrived at Will’s office and walked right past his usual clique of friends and opted for shutting away in his office.  They looked confused, but quickly redirected their attention to their work.  As soon as I sat down in my chair my eyes bugged wide open and I grabbed the armrests as my legs jolted.  

“nnnnnnggggg…” I said as lightly as possible.  No one heard me.  Good.

I knew some chairs creaked, but I gave my chair a test run.  I gently bounced in my chair, squeezing my face tight and gripping the armrest even tighter as the dildo grazed my prostate and gave my entire hole a bit of friction.  Not a sound came from the chair—nothing.  Plus, my door was closed and locked, so I had a little wiggle room…  

Oh fuck yeah…. I thought as I began to get quite restless in my chair, safely shrouded by being in an office with wall thick enough to mask my breathing.  

I began gasping as I started swinging my hips around in circles, breathing deeply as my cock strained against the jeans.  I didn’t free it, but I rearranged it, giving it just enough room to grow to full size under the denim as I began bouncing and twisting and doing anything that would make the dildo stimulate Will’s abused hole.  

I winced and squirmed as I practically gyrated in the seat, thrashing my hips around to feel that dildo pleasuring Will’s hole.  Oh fuck I was curling Will’s toes as my breathing picked up.

I’d been doing this all morning.  Over an hour of bliss passed until I seized and gasped for breath, grabbing the armrests harder than ever as I kicked my legs out and felt the cum launch right into the compression shorts.  I slammed my ass up and down off the seat as I braced myself and tossed my head back.

I had to bite my lip to keep the hollers of ecstasy inside, but finally, I slammed my ass down onto the chair one last time, shivering as the euphoria washed over me.  I collapsed in the chair, a dumbfounded smile over my face as I clenched Will’s hole, in some weird way showing my appreciation to the dildo that was still buried deep inside that magical hole.  

Still biting my lip, I realized I needed to get myself organized.  I rushed out the door in a hurry before anyone else could see me and went to the bathroom, quickly scooping up as much cum as possible and bringing it right to my mouth.  

“You love the taste of a man’s milk, don’t ya?  Especially your own?” I taunted Will’s reflection before zipping up and posing for the mirror.  I did some stereotypical cocky poses before fixing my hair and heading back to Will’s desk.

Apparently, Zach had asked Will to help him at the gym because the little bitch finally wanted to at least compensate his shorter status with some muscle tone.  I was all too happy to happy to agree, but not to actually help in any way.  Really, I realized I had been enjoying Will’s tight hole so much that I forgot about the nice rod he was hiding in his pants.  That rod needed a little bimbo to stuff and fill with its seed.  

It was 5 am, but it was so easy to get up in Will’s perfectly conditioned body.

“No more narcolepsy,” I said with a smile as I rolled off the bed, landing on my feet and already feeling an energetic spring in my step.  

I was just wearing boxers as I went up to the mirror, tracing the lines up my abs from Will’s defined V-lines.  

The control was so satisfying to me.  Looking over at the alarm clock, I figured I had a few spare minutes before I turned an unsuspecting Zach into my little whore.  With some concentration, I pulled my astral form out of Will.  His knees buckled as my essence unbounded from him and emerged from his skin, and the shock finally made him collapse to the ground.

He was unconscious for a few seconds before gently fluttering his eyes and raising his hands, looking at his own fingers as if being in control were an unfamiliar sensation.

“What the fuck?” he asked in confusion as he tried to get a grip on his surroundings.  

Forget the fact it was morning—I watched as Will picked up his phone and gasped as he saw that he had lost three full days.  

“How the—what the—what the fuck?!” he said in frustration as he began to walk in circles around the room, grabbing his hair and almost hyperventilating.  This was almost too much fun, but I was already feeling homesick.

“HUH?!” Will gasped as every muscle in his body seized up.  

I was pushing my essence into him from behind—since he was already standing up it was easy to align myself and basically push my astral essence into the toned and sexy Manly man I had come to adore.  He was so spacious for me.  

Will tossed his head back as the last of me was absorbed into him.  He convulsed briefly, helplessly moaning and groaning as he held himself up by placing both hands against the mirror.  He finally shivered before looking down at the ground and breathing like he had just sprinted a lap.  

Then my vision refocused and I was looking down at those sexy feet and a rapidly engorging cock I had come to love.  

“That just gets better every time,” I said with a sly smirk as I stood up and stretched Will’s body.

I was already thinking ahead to the fun I could have with this.  Maybe I could build up my skills to a level where I could enter and exit Will as fast as a thrusting dick.  Fuck yeah, I could turn possession into a new form of fucking and use him as the boycunt for my essence.  I had to take a deep breath to calm myself down as I put on some gym shorts and a tight-fitting T-shirt.  

My morning distraction had me out the door a little later than I had planned, but the plus side of inhabiting Will’s fit body was that I could just crank up the speed and jog there without feeling taxed in any way.  

We truly were there so early that no one was in the free-weight section.  I knew there was no guarantee that it would stay that way, but I had a good feeling that morning.  

I guided Zach to a benchpress bench that was out of sight and away from any cameras.  Luckily, the doors to the atrium were covered in leftover Halloween shit, so the glass was completely blocked.  

“Thank you so much for agreeing to help me out, Will,” Zach said with that stupid grin as he hopped around and did basic ass stationary stretches.  

“No problem, Zach. Anything for a friend,” I said with Will’s friendly chill tone.  

“I know this whole thing is weird, but over the last four years I’ve accepted the height thing, but I can still look great and be taken seriously with some help in the gym,” he said with a tone of optimism.  

“Well let’s get you on the path to being your best self,” I told him.

Zach sat down and started leaning back onto the bench, but I interjected.  

“Whoa whoa whoa, Rome wasn’t built in a day, buddy.”

Zach looked confused as I beckoned him up.  

“We’re gonna start you on your belly.  I’m gonna share the secret with you that made me my best self.”

“Okay…So like this?” he asked as he laid down.

“Perfect.  Just like that,” I said softly before licking my lips.

“I’m really curious to know what this is because I feel like I have zero range of motion right now,” he observed as fished around my gym bag.  

“Just gimme a sec, Zach. I’m pulling out something that’ll help you get on track to being your best self.”

I rummaged some more until I grabbed and pulled out some of the lube I had purchased with Will’s money.

“Perfect…” I said with a mischievous grin as I walked up behind Zach.

“So what muscles are we starting with?” Zach asked from below.  

“Today’s focus is gonna be that tight little ass.”

“What?” he asked in confusion.  He was turning to look at me, but I had already sprung into action.  

Zach gasped in shock as I pushed him down onto the bench, easily keeping the squirming little runt in place.  

“Will!  Argh!  What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled out as he struggled in vain to break free underneath me.  

I grinned as I lined my engorging cock up against his shorts and began gently grinding Will’s pole between the outline of his asscrack.  He grunted as I leaned my muscular torso down on his back, my full weight more than sufficient to keep him pinned down as I grabbed his arms and kept them pinned against his sides.  

“Urggghhh Will! Stop!  Get off me!” Zach commanded as I kept grinding away.  

I leaned down and huffed in the scent of his neck, licking his bare skin.  This made him particularly restless, but as expected, he was too much of a runt to escape.  

“Zach, this is going to teach you that you already are your best self.  You’re a perfect little runt—just the perfect size to get fucked up the ass and tossed around like a human fleshlight,” I told him as I grabbed the bottle of lube.  I was careful to get my shorts off without letting him get any leverage, but then I dragged him down the bench a few inches and sat on his lower back.  I managed to get his shorts and underwear down to his ankles before hooking the fabric underneath the bench and pulling him back up so his legs were essentially trapped.  

Zach begged me to let him go—he thrashed madly but I was able to keep his upper back down with just a single arm.  I used my other hand to slick up Will’s fuckstick.  

“I didn’t bother prepping you because even though you’re a little squirt, I know you can take it,” I told him as I got in position.  

I was standing up, leaning down on his upper back with one hand while I used my right hand to aim and align Will’s cockhead with Zach’s virgin hole.  I stared in awe at that tight little rosebud that had definitely never been penetrated.  I guess it was time for me to break him out of the closet.  

Zach reached back and grabbed helplessly at my left arm, begging me to stop as I got my legs between his and pushed his apart until the elastic around his ankles would stretch no further.  Then I went in—my cockhead made firm contact against his hole and he squealed loudly.

“Oh Zach, you’re going to loooooove this,” I assured him as I pushed my head against his clenched hole.

He was thrashing and clawing at the leather of the bench, but I kept pushing harder little by little.

“Zach, I could have already had all 8 inches in by now, but I’m giving you a chance to let me in,” I told him.  

“Fuck you!” he cursed me.

I smirked and pushed with more strength, stretching his hole open by force until his entrance swallowed my head and snapped tightly around my shaft.  Zach cried out, trembling as I pushed in one long, smooth motion, filling him up inch by inch.  I stretched him in depths he could not have conceived as his hole accepted more and more of Will’s rod.  Then, with just the last two of Will’s 8 inches left, I rammed them in to the hilt, lightly grunting as my hips slapped loudly against Zach’s ass cheeks.  

Zach shrieked as the last two inches stuffed him full.  He kicked his legs up, but the bench caught the shorts around his ankles and sent his feet back down to the ground.  The best he could do was scramble his feet against the ground.  

Zach was not even making intelligible noises as I pressed my chest down against his back and spoke in his ear, “how does it feel to be stuffed full of my manhood? You’ve got such a tight hole, Zach, and I like you this size.  I can do whatever I want to you,” I taunted him before licking the side of his face.  

“Please stop, Will. Please!” he begged me between uncomfortable grunts as he still adjusted to the 8 inches of dick I had left inside him. I knew that leaving Will’s meat inside him for a minute or two would help him loosen right up for me.  

As soon as the groans of obvious discomfort stopped I began pulling out of him, making him clench his eyes and wince slightly as my meat left him one inch at a time.  With just the head left inside him, I pushed back into him, faster than I had the first time.  

Zach’s wincing eyes shot wide open and he gripped the bench, gasping in shock as his legs twitched on their own.  

“See…you already love it…” I told him as I pulled out and thrust back into that hole, filling him up and making him release a legitimate moan of pleasure.  

“No Will.  You can’t—unnnngggggg You can’t do this—Oh God!” Zach gasped in a breathy voice between moans as I built up my rhythm until I was thrusting in and out of him at about 50% pace.

“Zach, I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t fill you with my load,” I told him before tossing my head around as I built up more speed.

“I don’t want it!  I don’t—HUH?!  Unnnnnngggggg Oh my God! FU-Aggggghhhhhh!” Zach yelled out as he struggled to catch his breath.  

“Looks like I found you’re a-spot,” I told him as I reared back and thrust into that same spot harder and faster.  

Zach’s entire body seized up as I pounded his prostate.  He winced his face tightly before gasping for breath and moaning out in a call of ecstasy.

“That’s right.  You fucking love this,” I said in a seductive tone as I picked up my pace, pistoning Will’s meat against Zach’s A-spot until all resistance in that little runt melted away.  I knew he was mine now, and that he would be mine forever.  

“You like this dick?” I asked him as I relentlessly pounded his boypussy.

“Unnnnngggg I LOVE it!” He called out from beneath me.  

“Then prove it,” I told him as I pulled completely out of him, making him yelp as my fat cock head stretched his entrance.  

I sat on the bench next to him and pulled off my shirt, revealing the glistening torso that was looking extra cut from the effort I had just put into pounding Zach.  I tossed the shirt on the ground and laid there in just my sneakers.  Zach knew exactly what he needed to do to satisfy his craving.  

Standing up, he hastily pulled his shorts down over his shoes and stood over my bench.  I grinned as he grabbed my slick rod and lined it up with his no longer virgin hole.   Then I sighed as he gently sat down, letting my meat slide into him until he was sitting all the way down, shivering as he reveled in the sensation of being stuffed full.

“That’s right, boy. Ride that cock.  Oh yeah this is just what you needed,” I told him gruffly as I gave him a playful smack on the ass and then gave both of those cheeks a nice grab.  

Zach squealed as I pulled his cheeks apart and yanked him down even further, sending Will’s dick even deeper into him.  

I could see it his eyes that he would never be the same.  He needed this feeling in his life, and he would always be thankful to me for giving him this gift.  The little runt gasped as I used my strength to add force to his descents, powerfully pulling him down onto my own upward thrusts.  Will’s powerful thighs and core served me well as I yanked him down so hard against me that it sounded like someone was getting bitch slapped.  

We were both dripping with sweat when I saw the look in his eyes that gave it all away.  Zach’s breathing was picking up, and his moans were building up to wails as I pounded him faster and faster.  He looked like he was going to collapse or pass out, but his craving kept him going as he slammed himself down onto my rod.  I felt his hole quivering and clenching, a signal of the geyser of pressure building in his crotch.  

His vocal tone was getting higher by the second until he finally tossed his head back and sank down onto my dick—this time the entrance triggered his untouched and throbbing cock to shoot out the first shot of his load.  It’s like he was some sort of cum pump as each new thrust into his spasming boycunt milked out another load onto my chest and abs.  I smirked as I pulled him down particularly hard, making him yelp as a shot of cum launched extra far, right into my open and waiting mouth.

I noticed though that even when his cum stopped dribbling out, my thrusts kept setting him off as if he were in the middle of an orgasm.  He looked confused but overwhelmed in ecstasy.  I was all too happy to oblige as I kept yanking him down onto my throbbing meat.  The best part is that his hole was still spasming as if it were post-orgasm—that sort of cock massage was too much for any man to handle for long, so I had no problem at all as I felt the blood rushing to my crotch and getting me ready to seed Zach’s used hole.  

“I’m gonna fill you up, Zach.  You’ll always have a bit of Will in you from now on,” I told him as I started getting more erratic and restless with my own movements as I slammed our bodies together. I was practically growling at that point as the pressure built in my balls to the absolute breaking point.  

“Ohhhhhhh FUCK YEAH!” I howled as I pistoned into him, sending ounce after ounce of my warm seed into his hungry hole.  

Zach was still riding the wave of his mysterious extended orgasm as he felt the undeniable comfort of a fresh load filling his insides.  I tossed my head around leaned up so he was sitting on me as I wrapped my arms around him and brought him close to me for a sloppy kiss.  We both moaned into each other’s mouths as I made my last thrusts into him before leaving him impaled on my meat as we embraced and tasted each other’s mouths.  

“I think that counts as a workout,” I told him, eliciting a chuckle of agreement.  

“Will, that was amazing. I-I never knew I could feel anything like that.  It was like heaven was inside me,” Zach told me in admiration and appreciation.  

I just gave Zach a playful kiss before helping him off of my cock.  We both got dressed and left the free weight room, leaving just my sweaty imprint on the bench where we screwed.  It was just in the nick of time too because some doctors walked in right as we finished rounding up our stuff.  We both chuckled quietly as we watched a more mature guy lay down right on the sweaty bench where we had just had our wild morning.

This had become one of my favorite pastimes.  I laid a towel over Will’s bed and laid down, lifting his legs up in the air and spreading them wide so I’d have access to his eternally tight hole.  It didn’t matter how much abuse it took, Will’s mancunt seemed to have a superhuman ability to retighten itself.  That’s part of what made this so enjoyable time and time again.  

“mmmmmmmm yeahhhhhhh,” I cooed as I worked a well lubed nine-inch dildo inside.  It took some effort to get it in past the head, but once Will’s tight hole snapped back around the shaft, it was so easy for me to just feed inch after inch inside me.  

My toes curled and I gasped for breath as I kept sliding it in me, slowly stretching me to my deepest depths until I pushed the last inch in and I was stuffed and stretched to the hilt. I lowered my legs and just laid in the bed, euphoria sweeping over me as I worshiped Will’s carved abs and sculpted chest.  The sensations were magnified because they always seemed to ignite the nerve endings in my host’s ass.  

The next part was my favorite because I released my hold on Will’s body with ever improving proficiency and instantly found myself floating above his shocked and floating body.  That was something I had learned to control—whether he would be passed out or instantly be awake and aware—I wanted him to be as aware as possible for this…

“HUH?! OHHHHHHHH!!!!!” Will yelled out as he felt the nine inch dildo wedged comfortably inside him.

He was afraid to move because even just squirming in surprise made his cock rush full of blood and sensation.  

“Wh-What the fuck?” Will said in horror and confusion as he wondered how he got in that position and why he seemed to be blacking out so much.  

I grinned in my astral form and fell down onto him, making him gasp as every muscle in his body seized from head to toe.  Will winced as he fought the invasion of my essence, but with one last groan he arched his back and I was back in control, looking up and squirming in delight from the sensation of his clenched hole gripping the dildo so tightly.  

“I just can’t imitate that,” I said with a grin as I let go and floated out of Will again, enjoying the instant shock on his face as he regained control.  

“Nnnnnnggggggggg Why the fuck is this happening?!” Will called out.

He had just a few seconds to revel before I freefell back into him all over again, filling him to capacity and making him wince as he fought to keep control of his body. Again, it was all in vain as his back arched and his clenched face relaxed into my sly smile.  I shivered some more as I felt the pleasure of his clenched hole around the dildo.  

I decided to finally test out my earlier theory about my abilities as I released my hold, only to force my way back inside right as Will was gasping in his usual shock.  He was squirming and writhing and arching his back as I took full control, only for me to release immediately after regaining his vision.  I built up my pace and proficiency until my form was literally swooping in and out of Will instantaneously, cycling in and out of his body at least one time per second, leaving him in an endless state of thrashing legs and cries of confusion and ecstasy.  His body was my plaything.  It’s like I was literally fucking him with my astral essence.  His whole body was just one mancunt for me to thrust in and out of. I released and gave him a break.

“Please!  No more!” he begged as he laid in the bed gasping for breath, covered in sweat and clenching every muscle in his body from head to toe. His engorged cock was leaking precum by the drop, but as I smirked and fell back into Will one last time for the day, his hole clenched around that dildo and triggered his long overdue orgasm, giving Will a blast of pleasure as he faded away.  

Chapter 1

The party was on the roof of the Apex, a building that looked like a jagged shard of glass, and I was standing near the edge because the air there felt slightly less like recycled breath. The wind was cold, sharp with the scent of the ocean and the metallic tang of the city, but it didn't matter. Nobody was looking at me. I was a smudge on a lens, a glitch in the social software of the evening.

I was holding a drink that had cost twenty-two dollars — a gin and something botanical that tasted like a lawnmower’s bag — and I was watching a woman named Beatrice. At least, I think it was Beatrice. She was the kind of woman whose name changed depending on who was paying for her dinner. She was tall, maybe 5'10" in those lethal heels, with pale skin and dark hair that fell in a single, heavy sheet down her back. Her eyes were a predatory shade of grey and they scanned the room constantly as she talked to me, or rather, as she talked in my general direction, using me as a placeholder while she sought someone with more gravitational pull.

I told her I worked in archival digitization, which was a lie. I mostly just moved boxes of paper from one dry room to another until my fingers felt like they were made of dust. I’m 5'8", by the way. Or 5'7" on a bad day when the weight of being ignored starts to compress my spine. My shoulders are soft, sloping things, like a hill that’s given up on being a mountain, and my face is the kind of face that people use to describe someone else. He looks like that guy, they say, and then they can’t remember who the guy is.

Beatrice was saying something about a gallery opening in Chelsea, her mouth moving in a way that suggested she was tasting the words and finding them slightly sour. She looked at me for a fraction of a second, her pupils dilating as she tried to remember why she was wasting oxygen on a man who wore off-the-rack polyester blends.

And then, it happened. It always happens.

A man walked past. He didn't even stop. He was just a smooth blur of linen and golden skin, a scent of sandalwood trailing behind him. He was beautiful in the way a wildfire is beautiful — destructive, effortless, and impossible to look away from. He had that specific kind of blond hair that looked like it had been bleached by the sun of a better Mediterranean than the one the rest of us get to visit.

Beatrice didn't even finish her sentence. She didn't even offer a polite 'excuse me.' She simply turned her entire body toward the wake of this stranger, her neck craning, her eyes locking onto him with a hunger that was almost obscene. She moved toward him like a compass needle swinging north, leaving me standing there with my lawnmower drink and a sentence about digital metadata dying in my throat. I wasn't even a ghost to her. I was just empty space she had to navigate around.

This happens constantly. I am a man who is never there, the background noise in other people’s movies. I stood there for another ten minutes, watching the way the light caught the cheekbones of the beautiful people, cataloging them with a frantic, desperate precision. There was a guy by the bar, maybe twenty-five, with a jawline so sharp it looked like it could draw blood. He was wearing a shirt unbuttoned to his navel, showing off a chest that was hairless and smooth with nipples I wanted to bite. I hated him. I wanted to reach out and smudge him, to rub a thumb across that perfect skin until he looked as blurry as I did.

I finished my drink and left. I didn't say goodbye to the host because I didn't know who the host was, and they certainly didn't know me. I walked down the twelve flights of stairs because the elevator was full of laughing, shimmering things that smelled like success, and I couldn't bear the thought of being trapped in a box with them, feeling my own invisibility reflected in the polished brass doors.

I ended up at the gym. Not my gym — I don't have a gym membership, I can only afford a library card and a sense of impending doom — but the Equinox on 63rd where I sometimes sneak in by tailgating a distracted member through the turnstiles. It’s the only place where I feel like I can study perfect specimens up close. The locker room was thick with the smell of eucalyptus and expensive soap. It was late, nearly midnight, and the place was mostly empty, but the ghosts of the beautiful were everywhere.

I was sitting on a bench in the back corner, near the saunas, pretending to tie my shoes. I was watching a man across the room. He was probably thirty, standing naked by his locker, drying himself with a towel. He was everything I wasn't: over 6', maybe 6'3", with long, lean muscles that rippled under his skin like snakes. His skin was a deep, even tan, and his hands were large, capable, the kind of hands that held things with authority. He didn't look in the mirror to check his reflection; he looked in the mirror to confirm that the world was still worthy of him.

I felt a surge of such intense, vibrating hatred that my hands actually shook. It wasn't just envy. Envy is a small, nibbling thing. This was a frantic, strained adrenaline, a scream in the back of my skull that said Why him and not me? What cosmic ledger decided he gets to live in the sunlight and I get relegated to the damp basement?

He finished dressing — expensive charcoal sweats and a white tee — and left. He forgot something, though. Or maybe he didn't. Maybe he just didn't care.

Perched on the top of the locker next to his, the one that had been left hanging open, was a duffel bag. It was a heavy, matte-black thing, unbranded but obviously high-end. The zipper was slightly ajar.

I looked around. The locker room was silent, save for the hum of the ventilation and the distant hiss of a shower. My heart was hammering against my ribs, a panicked bird in a cage. I shouldn't have done it. I’m not a thief. Or maybe I am, and I just hadn't found anything worth stealing yet. I stood up, my movements stiff and unnatural, and walked over to the locker.

I reached out and grabbed the bag. It was heavier than it looked, but not with the weight of gym clothes or sneakers. It felt dense, like it was filled with wet sand or meat. I didn't open it there. I couldn't. I just slung the strap over my shoulder and walked out, my head down, my breath coming in shallow, jagged hitches. The guy at the front desk didn't even look up from his phone as I passed. Of course he didn't. I was nobody.

I hailed a cab outside, which was a reckless waste of money, but I couldn't take the subway. I felt like the bag was pulsing, like it had a heartbeat that would sync up with mine and expose me to the world.

The cab smelled of stale cigarettes and cherry air freshener. The driver was an old man with a scraggly gray beard and a dog-end sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He didn't speak, and for once, I was grateful for the silence. I gave him my address, leaned back into the cracked vinyl seat, and stared out the window at the city.

We passed a billboard for a luxury watch — a man with golden skin and green eyes looking down at the traffic with a smile that was both inviting and dismissive. He looked like the guy from the party. He looked like the guy from the locker room. They all looked like variations of the same god, and I was watching them from among the marble shavings left after the statue was finished.

I began to catalog the men I saw on the street as we crawled through the late-night traffic. A guy in a leather jacket leaning against a lamppost, his hair a deliberate mess of curls. A businessman in a suit that fit him like a second skin, his posture so straight it looked painful. A runner in neon shorts, his calves bulging with every stride. I memorized the tilt of their heads, the way they held their phones, the exact curve of their smiles, building a library of things I would never have.

The cab pulled up in front of my apartment building, a squat, brick monstrosity that looked like it had been built out of spite. I paid the driver — more than I could afford — and climbed out, clutching the bag to my chest.

The hallway smelled like cabbage and moldy carpet. My neighbor, a man whose name I’d forgotten despite living next to him for three years, was fumbling with his keys. He looked at me, his eyes skating over my face without a hint of recognition. I could have been a delivery man or a burglar; to him, I was just a part of the architecture.

"Evening," he muttered, not looking at me.

"Yeah," I said, my voice sounding thin and tired in the narrow hall.

Chapter 2

The apartment felt smaller than usual, or maybe it was just that I felt larger, more cumbersome, carrying the weight of that stolen bag through the door. The air in my studio always has this stale, defeated quality to it, but as I dropped the black duffel onto the warped hardwood, the room seemed to shrink in judgment. I stood there for a long moment, my breath coming in those thin, whistling hitches that usually signal a panic attack, staring at the zipper. I was still vibrating from the adrenaline of the theft. I felt like a smudge of charcoal on a clean sheet of paper, ready to be blown away by the slightest breeze. Or maybe I felt like a bomb. It’s hard to tell the difference when your heart is trying to kick its way out of your ribs.

I knelt on the floor, the wood groaning under my knees. The IKEA coffee table was peeling at the corners—fake beech laminate flaking off like dead skin to reveal the compressed sawdust underneath. Everything in my life was like that: cheap, fragile, and falling apart. I reached for the zipper. It glided open with a silent, expensive smoothness.

The contents sprang forth. That’s the only way to describe the movement. It didn't fall out like clothes; it unfurled like a person who had been flattened and folded for storage. It sprawled across the floor, and for a terrifying second, I thought I’d brought home a corpse. It looked like a discarded lover, someone who had simply given up on the concept of bones. The skin was a radiant, sun-kissed gold, a color that didn't exist in my world of fluorescent lights and subway tunnels. It had weight — a dense, fleshy heft that made my stomach turn; 6'2" of perfect, unblemished potential. I reached out, my fingers hovering an inch above the chest. The hair on my arms stood up. There was a faint scent clinging to it, something better than perfume.

I started to strip. It was a frantic, ugly process. I kicked off my shoes, which were scuffed and salt-stained from a winter I couldn't forget. I pulled off my polyester shirt, the buttons snagging, and stepped out of my trousers. I stood naked in the center of the room, shivering in the draft from the window. In the reflection of the darkened TV screen, I saw myself: soft shoulders, slight protrusion of a belly fed on cheap carbohydrates, and pale, pasty skin that looked like it had been grown under a rock.

I turned the suit over. The back was a smooth expanse of muscle, but there, running from the base of the neck down to the coccyx, was a line. It wasn't a zipper, it was a hair-thin seam, almost invisible, that seemed to be held together by some kind of magnetic or biological tension. I hooked my fingernails into the top of it and pulled. There was a sound like a wet seal breaking, a soft, gelatinous schlick, and the suit opened up.

The interior was different. It wasn't fabric. It was a dark, iridescent crimson, textured like the underside of a tongue or the lining of a throat. It looked hungry. I felt a surge of pure, unadulterated terror. This wasn't a costume. This was a biological anomaly, a military prototype, or a fever dream. I should have shoved it back in the bag and thrown it into the East River, or maybe called the police. But the memory of the man in the locker room — the way he had dried himself with that effortless, kingly grace — was a knife in my gut. I didn't want to be me anymore. I was finished with being a man who wasn't there.

I sat on the floor and guided my right leg into the opening. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. The lining didn't just touch my skin; it gripped it. It was warm, uncomfortably so, and it felt like sticking my limb into a pressurized sleeve of heated silk. As my foot reached the bottom, the suit’s toes — perfect, straight, manicured toes — aligned with mine. There was a moment of resistance, and then a sudden, wet suction as the material vacuum-sealed itself against my calf. I gasped, my lungs seizing. It was tight. It was so tight I thought it would crush my bones, but then the pressure shifted from a squeeze to a support.

I stood up, stumbling, and worked my other leg in. The vertigo started then. My perspective was already shifting; I was getting taller, the floor moving further away. I pulled the suit up over my hips in an agonizing, clumsy struggle. I had to wriggle and shove, my real skin sticking and dragging against the crimson lining. I worked my arms into the sleeves, and the suit’s hands — large, powerful hands with elegant fingers — snapped onto mine.

Then came the torso. I had to hunch forward, my spine screaming as I forced my soft frame into the rigid architecture of the chest. The suit didn't just cover me; it reorganized me. I felt my shoulders being pulled back, my ribcage expanding, my posture being corrected by a force that didn't care about my comfort. I was gasping now, the air in the room feeling thin and insufficient.

Finally, I reached for the head. The face hung limp, the eyes closed. I pulled it up and over my skull like a balaclava. For a few seconds, there was total darkness. The smell of the interior was overwhelming now — a metallic, organic tang that tasted like copper on my tongue. The lining pressed against my eyelids, my lips, my nose. I felt a moment of true, suffocating panic. I couldn't breathe. I was going to die in a stolen skin in a shitty apartment, and nobody would even know which body was mine. I clawed at the air, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against the suit’s unyielding chest.

Then, the seal closed, zipping or clamping or whatever itself shut without my help. The heat intensified, a searing wave that rolled from my heels to my scalp, and then the suit contracted. It didn't just fit; it adhered. Every millimeter of the lining bonded with my skin. The vertigo hit me and I swayed, my hands reaching out to catch the dresser, but the dresser wasn't where it was supposed to be. Everything was lower. My center of gravity had migrated.

I opened my eyes. The light in the room was sharper, more vivid. I could see the individual fibers of the carpet, the microscopic cracks in the paint on the ceiling. I felt a surge of power, a chemical rush that felt like a hit of pure, uncut confidence being injected directly into my carotid artery. I wasn't tired anymore. I wasn't small. I walked to the bathroom. My gait was different. I wasn't shuffling; I was gliding. There was a spring in my step, a coiled energy in my thighs that made me feel like I could leap over the moon. I pushed open the bathroom door — the wood felt light as cardboard — and stood before the mirror.

I didn't scream. I couldn't. I just stared. The man in the mirror was a god. He was 6'2", with shoulders as wide as a door frame and a proud chest that tapered into a lean, hard waist. His skin was flawless, a deep, radiant bronzed tan that seemed to catch and hold the light from the flickering fluorescent bulb. His hair was a thick, golden-blond mane, perfectly messy, falling across a forehead that had never known a worry.

But it was the face that broke me. The jawline was a masterpiece of geometry, sharp and angled; the nose was straight and noble; and the eyes were a deep, piercing green. They weren't my eyes - my eyes were a muddy, nondescript brown, always watery and rimmed with red. These eyes were clear, predatory, and endlessly confident.

I reached up and touched my cheek. The sensation was intensely vivid. The suit didn't dampen my sense of touch; it amplified it. I felt the texture of the skin, the slight stubble along the jaw, the warmth of the blood beneath the surface. It felt more real than my own skin ever had.

"Holy fuck," I whispered.

The voice that came out of my throat wasn't mine. It was a rich, resonant baritone, smooth as bourbon and warm as a fireplace. It had a natural tilt of amusement to it, a built-in charm that made even those two words sound like a promise. I felt the vibration of the vocal cords in my chest and a shiver of pure, erotic pleasure raced down my spine.

I began to explore this new body, my movements slow and deliberate. I was an archivist, after all; I needed to catalog every inch of this miracle. I raised my new hands and watched the way the tendons moved under the golden skin. I turned them over, admiring the palms and the long, elegant fingers. I began to touch myself, not out of vanity, but out of a need to confirm the reality of the illusion.

I slid my right hand down over the expanse of the chest. The pectoral muscle was firm and arched, reacting to my touch with a slight, involuntary twitch. I traced the line of the sternum, my fingertips gliding over the smooth, hairless skin. The sensation was electric; it felt like a thousand tiny needles of pleasure were firing in my brain. The suit’s feedback loop was incredible. Every caress was doubled, tripled, sent back to my nervous system with a clarity that was almost painful.

I moved my hand lower, tracing the ridges of the abdominal muscles. They were hard as stone, a perfect six-pack that rippled as I breathed. I felt the heat of the suit increasing, a localized warmth following my hand as my fingers strayed toward my obliques, prominent ridges of masculine grace.

I was becoming aroused, and the suit reacted. It was as if the material was attuned to my pulse, my hormones. I felt a surge of blood, a heavy, throbbing weight that felt entirely too large for the space I usually occupied. I groaned, the sound vibrating in my new, beautiful throat. I leaned my forehead against the cool glass of the mirror, watching my astonishing new face as I continued the exploration.

I wrapped my hand around the base of my throat, feeling the pulse jumping there. I squeezed slightly, and the sensation of being choked was transformed into a thrill of dominance. I was the master of this body, but I was also its prisoner. I slid my hand back down, my palm flat against my stomach, and then lower still. I began to stroke myself with a rhythmic, demanding intensity.

The specific actions were a blur of heightened sensation. I gripped my newly heavy shaft, which seemed to have replaced my own unimpressive equipment, and felt the heft as if it were my own. I increased the pressure, my breath coming in ragged, baritone gasps. I watched the way my muscles tensed in the mirror, the way the golden skin flushed with a deeper red. I used my left hand to reach behind, my fingers digging into the firm, rounded muscle of my left glute, pulling myself forward into the touch. I was a participant in my own seduction. I flicked my thumb over the head of my cock, and the spark of pleasure was so intense I nearly lost my footing.

I was standing in a dingy bathroom in a failing apartment, but I felt like I was at the center of the universe. I continued the motion, my hand moving faster, the friction generating a heat that seemed to melt the boundary between the suit and my soul. When I finally came, it wasn't the pathetic, lonely release I was used to. It was a violent, full-body convulsion. My head snapped back, a moan ripped from my lungs, and I felt semen — real or simulated, I couldn't tell — erupt with a force that made my vision white out. The suit seemed to pulse in time with my contractions, amplifying the climax until I was sobbing with the sheer, overwhelming beauty of it.

I slumped against the sink, my chest heaving, sweat — real, salty sweat — beading on my forehead. I was hyper-aware, listening to the buzzing of the light and the distant sound of a siren on the street below, noting my heartbeat slowly coming back down in frequency. I felt empty, but it was a good emptiness. The hollow space where my self-loathing used to live had been burned clean by the fire of whatever, whoever I had just become.

I pushed myself away from the mirror and walked back into the main room. I felt heavy, but it was a heavy with purpose. I spotted the duffel bag again, discarded near the door, and saw the light glinting off something inside. I reached in and pulled out a Pro model iPhone, gray, sleek and expensive. I held it up to my new face and FaceID unlocked it instantly.

It took me a minute to orient myself to the apps on the home screen, but one thing that stood out immediately was the chaotic mess of notifications. Angry red bubbles on every app with notification numbers in the hundreds or thousands. Instagram, WhatsApp, Tinder, Bumble, Hinge. Unread messages, likes, emoji… a digital life that was as crowded and vibrant as mine was barren. I scrolled through the photo library. There were hundreds of them — this body at the beach, at a club, laughing with men who looked like movie stars, waking up in rumpled sheets with a smile that suggested he had just conquered the world.

There were videos, too. I tapped on one. It was a short clip of this body standing on a balcony overlooking the city at night. He was holding a glass of wine, looking into the camera with those emerald eyes. "Don't wait up," he said, his voice — my voice, now — dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "I’m going to be late. Very, very late." He winked, and the video ended.

I felt a cold shiver of dread compete with the heat of the suit. Who was this man? Where was he? And why had he left this bag in a gym locker for a nobody like me to find? I told myself it was performance art. Or a prank. Or a drug-induced hallucination. I looked down at my hands. They were still perfect, long-fingered, and golden tan. I flexed them, feeling the immense, borrowed power in the fingers.

I looked at the clock on the wall. It was nearly 1 a.m. The city was still awake, full of people who were looking for whomever I was now. And for the first time in my thirty-two years of miserable, invisible existence, I had the keys to the kingdom.

I knew, even then, I could never take it off. I walked to the closet and pulled out the best thing I owned — a black slim-fit suit that I’d bought for a funeral and never wore because I couldn't stand the way it made me look like a child playing dress-up. On my old body, it was baggy in the shoulders and tight in the waist, a pathetic admission of defeat.

I stepped into the trousers. They fit this new body perfectly, the fabric straining against the hard muscle of my thighs, the legs too short but in an artful modern way. I pulled on the jacket, and for the first time, my shoulders didn't slouch. They filled the space, the seams holding firm against the breadth of my new frame. I looked in the mirror one last time.

I picked up the phone and slipped it into my pocket. I didn't need my keys or my wallet - this new existence was everything I needed. I walked to the door, my hand on the knob, and paused. I looked back at the apartment. It looked like a tomb - the place where the old me had died - and I felt no grief for the departed. I felt only a frantic, strained adrenaline, a need to get out into the light and see what this new skin could do.

My boyfriend couldn’t imagine the idea of being in lockdown without us seeing each other. So without warning me, he swapped into my brother. At first I was totally creeped out. My brother and I didn’t really get along, but with Dan inside him, he was of course a totally different person - he was tidy for once, he cooked for me, made me tea…

Once I started to get used to the idea, I started allowing him to hug me and such. At first it felt creepy, but soon I was comfortable cuddling in his arms. Soon, we also started to get physical too. I mean, what else is there to do when you’re stuck at home? Dan is normally a total bottom, but I guess my bro isn’t and it was apparently really uncomfortable for him, so we decided to try the other way around. Dan quickly got the hang of things and was stretching my hole with his new fat dick. Seems he enjoyed it a little too much. I could hear his low grunts from behind and drops of sweat landing on my back until a stream was released inside me. Is it weird for me to say it was the best sex of my life?

I ended up sleeping more and more often in my bro’s bed. I wake up to the feeling of my brother’s boner rubbing against my ass in the morning. And Dan was exploring more and more his new possibilities. I saw him working out for the first time ever and the glisten of sweat on his skin turned me on so much. It’s funny to think that my sensitive boyf is inside that topless stud. 

As hot as all this sounds, I am also worried. I think I am falling in love with my brother. What happens if Dan goes back to his old self? I will still be lusting after my brother, wanting him to hold me tight. I don’t want to go back to having a slim twink for a boyfriend, I love my brother now.

To be honest with you my life wasn’t one worth complaining about, but it sure wasn’t one I was crazy with having. Growing up in a small town where hardly anything new happens. Same old shit, same old different day.

Oh? Me? I’m just another closted gay kid in the sticks. I was from the city but when my mom fell for this farmer guy, I was forced to move out here. Nowadays I just spend my days in the town because my new step-dad kicks me out of my room all the time. While I was walking down the very small networked streets, I couldn’t help but just go to the nearest alleyway to take my anger out on a few bags of trash. I was wearing steel toe boots so at least my feet were somewhat protected should there be glass or metal.

I wasn’t angry at my mom for wanting to live her life in happiness. I was angry that I was forced to be a part of a community that would immediately lynch me if word got out that I was gay.

As I took my anger out on the trash, one happened to split open. And there among the garbage was this crazy looking necklace that could’ve came out of a movie. Normally I don’t mess with stuff like that but I couldn’t help but take it and put it on. Next thing I realize is that my body becomes intangible and I was practically hovering slightly in the air. I was practically a spirit now!

Throughout the day I was partaking in mischief throughout the town. Making dishes float in the diner and coffee pouring itself in a cup, writing stupid shit on foggy mirrors in the barber ships, whispering during the church sermons, oh I was going the whole nine yards! But during my spree of causing fear, I saw the one man who was the target of my wet dreams and fantasies. His name is Ryan and he was walking around town waiting on his friends. No doubt he was completely unaware of the havoc I was causing.

For clarification, Ryan was as idiotic as he was muscular. Poor thing was too dumb to understand things like bigotry or racism or even to see when someone was making passes at him. He was just nice to everyone. It honestly blew my mind how someone that hot can be so idiotic and nice. As such I would touch myself many of nights to the thought of him being in a relationship with me. To be cuddled and held in those beefy arms and spoiled by a man with no mean bone in his body. But then the wet dreams of me getting railed by a certain bone in his body also intrigued me. However, I realized recently he’s planning on leaving to go to college in L.A. in a couple of days. How he managed to do something as go to college was beyond me. But I was both happy for him but envious that he was leaving this static shithole.

Using my newfound abilities, I made some trash fall in the alleyway so he could walk towards the source. And just like a moth to a flame, he did just that. I didn’t want to scare him but I wanted to use these new abilities to just be close to him. To take in his scent one last time and see him from a closer angle before he was gone forever. As he looked at the trash bag, I gave a deep inhale to take in his cologne while seeing those rippling muscles hidden behind his thin blue shirt. What I wasn’t expecting was to get so lost in his scent that I didn’t realize he got up and ran into me.

Everything was black for a bit until my eyes opened. I was looking the opposite direction but I didn’t feel light anymore. I felt incredibly heavy. That’s when I realized that I must’ve entered Ryan’s body when he walked into me. I was shocked but I couldn’t do anything to show it. I was just a passenger in Ryan’s body. At first I didn’t think much about it since I could just hitch a ride in Ryan to live life alongside of him, but soon my thoughts were replaced with a new idea.

Why hitch a ride as Ryan when I can BE Ryan??

These thoughts must’ve held more power than I thought because Ryan stopped in his tracks and noticed his cock beginning to tent in his shorts. He shrugged and was going to continue walking until I willed his feet to stop. No. The Ryan who walks out of that alleyway will be me!

My emotions caused his confusion to form a cocky grin as he peeled off his shirt. He began to feel his muscles and kiss his biceps as I continued to force my soul as the owner of his body. As he was busy worshipping himself, I started forcing myself into his brain by thrusting my essence inside. This caused Ryan to moan as he began to get more cocky over his appearance. With each thrust of my essence, my personality, my mannerisms, it would all send ineffable pleasure to his system.

His moans picked up as he massaged his massive pecs and played with those perky nipples of his as I gained full control of his brain.

“Fuck this towb. Glad I’m leaving all these stupid asses behind.” He laughed.

That made me hard. Not once have I ever heard Ryan swear. My personality and everything else was merging with his own. But it looks like I’m the dominant aspect in this fusion. With my newfound influence, I had his soul expose itself to me in which I devoured it and merged with it. This process caused Ryan to grip his head and keel over. I was overtaking everything that he was as my soul spread itself throughout his body. I would’ve expected Ryan to shout and plead but instead he was moaning and laughing. Looks like my influence really infected him.

With one final push, Ryan stood up and let out a mighty roar as his muscles contracted all at once and relaxed as his cock released ropes of cum in his underwear from all the pleasure. His face was one of apathy before he smirked.

“Hello world.” I say in my new deep voice.

I look down to see my heaving muscles and laugh.

“Fuck. I really did it.”

I started stroking my still hard cock through my shorts until I fired another massive load inside, and just to test my strength I ripped my underwear off from my mighty legs and started eating the massive load caught within.

“Fuck yes … so good . .” I groan out as I feast.

I tossed my shredded underwear into a trashcan once I was done and walked out to the main street. There my now flaccid monster was hitting my legs and my shorts with each step I took. I sat at a bench to test something out. As I tried my hardest to focus on separating from Ryan, I couldn’t. It seems I’m permanently fused to him.

Fuck, there’s the dude that stole my body! I used to be such a successful businessman, and then he stole my life and left me in this body of his, dude. God knows how he managed to keep successful, but I guess appearances go a long way…

Take me for example, I thought I could turn this shit around at first, a guy from the wrong side of town becomes an entrepreneur in no time. With all my knowledge and experience, it was a sure thing, right? But, I couldn’t afford a suit to pitch my ideas and no one took me seriously - what would I know about the inner workings of venture capital, they told me… Man, the only place people deemed me suitable to work was doing manual jobs, but I guess everyone’s gotta start (again) somewhere.

It started slowly with the guys at work laughing at me for the way I dress and talk and the music I listen to, and unconsciously at first, I started changing myself to fit in more. Nobody wanted to ask me about business models, just about last night’s game or how to put on some more muscle. Then eventually, after being knocked down so many times, I started accepting it - my dreams changed from returning to my former glory, to getting a pickup truck and just spending time with the guys. Oh, and working on my physique and getting some more tattoos. 

"Hi 'bro'... ready to get filled by my precious cum?" Will, my brother, says to me, in only his undershirt and underwear in my bedroom.

You might be thinking, "What's going on? Why's your brother coming onto you?" Well, here's the story...

Two days earlier...

(Illustration of me)

I had just arrived home from the gym when I saw a translucent figure appear from the corner of my eye. Ever since I did an ouija board session with some of my friends in my apartment, I've been experiencing strange phenomena, such as my things moving and a c old shiver down my spine, as if someone's touching me when no one's there.

When I turned around, I was finally able to see the ghost who had been haunting me since the ouija incident and I was shocked, falling to the ground on my ass.

Before I could scream, he said to me, "Please! Don't be afraid, I'm not gonna hurt you." I slowly stood up from the floor and asked, "Who are you? Are you the one me and my friends summoned during the ouija board session?"

"Yes... as you might remember, my name is Josh, and I've been - I guess haunting you - cause I found you cute and I am kinda mischievous so I couldn't hold in my crush on you and haunted you ever since."

Hearing that, I was kinda shocked to be honest but also flattered. I mean it's not everyday you have a ghost crushing on you.

We ended up chatting in my room when suddenly, my stepbrother, Will came to my room in his towel and said, "Hey Walt, I'm gonna head back out soon, ya want anything?"

"O-oh, nah I-I'm good. Thanks man," I replied trying to hide my growing erection. Seeing his abs and muscles was giving me a hard on and thankfully he didn't notice.

When he left the room, I found that Josh was staring at the door where Will was and asked, "Hey is that your bro?" I answered, "Yeah, he's gonna be staying with me for a few days while he looks for a new place."

"Ah I see..." Josh answered before we continued our conversation into the night, about his life and also our interests before I slept.

A few hours later....

In the middle of the night, I was awoken by Will screaming from his room and when I ran inside, I saw Will in his underwear and also Josh entering his body through Will's mouth. "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!"

Josh was fighting to fit inside Will's mouth, stretching his mouth wide like rubber and Will tried to pull him out, but it was no use, and he started convulsing on the floor.

I rushed to him and tried to help, but he kept convulsing for a few more seconds before going still.

"Uh, Will? You okay?" I asked confused on what just happened.

Suddenly, Will opened his eyes and the moment our eyes met, he kissed me hard on the lips.

"Walter, it's me, Josh!" Josh, now Will said.

"Wait what?! How?!"

"No idea! I was just roaming around the house and went to your brother's bedroom. I was just looking at him when I felt something pull me in, and next thing I know I'm getting sucked in through his mouth!"

Looking at Josh now in Will's body honestly gave me a hard on, especially his nipples and Josh seemed to notice too.

"Want a taste of him?" I was shocked but also getting hard at the question. Without a word, I pulled him in for a kiss and we ended up fucking all night long, with him giving me a blowjob and me licking his nipples and abs.

In the present...

Since that day, Josh has lived Will's life, taking over his job and also continuing to live with me as boyfriends while acting as borthers to our family.

I've asked him if Will is stuck in his mind since that day, but he said that he hasn't heard Will since the moment he took over, so either he's gone or he's just stuck.

As I come to the bed, Josh/Will asks, "Well, shall we baby?"

Iyzdham was just resting in his hospital room post-surgery for appendicitis at a local hospital when the ghost of a college student named Jake appeared.

The moment Jake laid eyes on him, he just knew that Iyzdham would be the perfect body for him to start a brand new life. From his hard abs and cute face, Jake just knew that Iyzdham's perfect for him.

Jake decided to wait for the perfect time for him to possess Iyzdham and when he went to the bathroom, Jake decided it's the perfect time for him to strike.

In the bathroom, Iyzdham was just brushing his teeth when he felt a sudden cold touch his back. "Damn what's with the cold..?" Before he could say anything, Jake put his hands into Iyzdham's back and entered him like he's a bodysuit.

"AARGH WHAT'S GOING ON?!" Iyzdham screamed as he felt himself being invaded in all parts of his body, causing him to convulse. Jake managed to take control of every part of Iyzdham, from his arms to his legs.

When it was just his mind left, Iyzdham whimpered, "Please.. let me go..." Jake then said with his new mouth as he took control of Iyzdham's mind "Sorry, man... I wanted a new life and your body is perfect for me hehehe..."

As Jake was exploring his new body, touching every part of his new body, the real Iyzdham continued to scream to be let go, but Jake silenced him completely.

Riffing on a great auto-milker video from TheMaleTestSub on Twitter.

The machine had been running for about two hours when he switched it off.

He knows because he watched the clock — or the body's original owner watched it, helpless and strapped and comprehensively outwitted, while the soft-pull suction worked at him with mechanical patience, drawing him out in slow, clinical cycles. The pulse cuff had charted everything. The heartrate that spiked at forty minutes, plateaued, spiked again at ninety when the setting changed to something less rhythmic, more insistent. The canister filling with translucent white in stages, each collection colder than the last as time passed and the room's air did its work.

He'd wanted a full picture. A complete accounting of what he was taking.

The jar sits on the side table now, sealed. Four ounces, give or take, which feels like both a lot and not enough.

Now he was wearing the meatsuit... it's the first thing he picks up.

The body's heart is still running fast — he can feel it in his throat, this gorgeous elevated thrum that has nothing to do with current exertion and everything to do with two hours of prolonged, edged, relentless harvest. The pulse of residual arousal sitting under the skin like a second circulatory system. He breathes through it. Sits in it. Lets the tachycardia tell him what this body went through before he arrived, and feels something that is maybe gratitude, maybe appetite — the two not being entirely separable right now.

He unscrews the lid.

The smell hits first.

He tips his head down and just breathes it — that specific, intimate, undeniable smell, sharper from the cold, a little more concentrated than fresh, and it's his now, that's the thing that makes his new lungs catch, that's the thing that lands with the particular weight of possession: this is what he smells like. What this body produces when worked over with two hours of patient mechanical intention. His.

He brings the jar to his lips.

Cold. That's the first thing — colder than he expected, a shock against his lower lip, and then the taste hits in layers. Salt, obviously, but under that something almost mineral, something that coats the tongue and lingers. He lets it pool. Doesn't swallow, just holds it there, tilts his head slightly and rolls it forward, lets it reach the tip of his tongue where the sensitivity is sharpest.

Mmhh.

Low. Private. The sound of genuine discovery.

He swills it — actually swills it, slow rotation, the way you'd evaluate something worth evaluating, and the taste shifts with the movement, opens up, the cold beginning to give as his mouth warms it. There's something almost sweet under the salt, something he doesn't have a reference for because it's new, it's his, it's a flavor that belongs specifically to this body and no other, and he has two hours' worth of it sitting on his tongue right now.

He swallows.

The warmth tracks all the way down and he sits with his eyes closed for a moment, hand loose around the jar, heartrate doing something complicated.

"Okay," he says, very quietly, in this voice that still surprises him with its grain. "Okay."

Then he tips the jar again.

Smaller this time — a considered sip, intentional, the way you'd return to something you're not done understanding yet. He holds it. Breathes through his nose. The cold is already less of a shock; he knows what's coming now, leans into the mineral-salt-sweet complexity of it, lets himself form an opinion. Lets himself like it, which feels important. Which feels like the kind of thing you should decide deliberately.

He likes it.

He swallows again, slower, and sets the jar down with maybe a third still remaining, and turns his attention to the rest of himself.

The weight of it lands afresh every time. He's been cataloguing this body for over two hours and it still does that — stops him, recalibrates him, demands he acknowledge what he's sitting inside. He spreads both hands over his thighs and presses in, feeling the dense muscle shift and settle, and the heartrate does another little stutter because the body remembers being touched here, remembers the strap across the thigh that held it steady, and something in the nervous system is apparently still processing that memory with a lot of interest.

"Hey," he murmurs, palms still moving, slow. "I know. I know."

His hands migrate up. Over the stomach, pressing in at the center where he can feel the ab definition even through the tenderness of two hours' held tension, up to the chest where he spreads his fingers wide and just holds. The pec fills his palm. Heavy and warm and real in the specific way that mass is real, the way gravity is real, something you don't argue with.

He squeezes once.

Then again.

Then his right hand drops and wraps around his cock with the easy familiarity of someone who's had hours to learn the grip, and the sound that comes out — hhff, unh — is involuntary and also slightly irritated because he's still this sensitive, still jumping at contact like something raw, and he grins at the ceiling.

Thumbs over the head on purpose.

His hips jerk and he makes a sound that is not dignified and he does it again, because apparently he's mean like that now, because apparently this body's oversensitivity is something he intends to know exhaustively. The ah-ah that comes out is staccato and genuine and the voice that produces it is low and wrecked in a way that feels like an achievement.

He brings his left hand up and drags two fingers over his lower lip, tasting the trace still there.

Salt. Mineral. His.

"Mine," he says, and the word comes out differently this time — quieter, more private, less performance — because it's not just about the body anymore, or not only about the body. It's about the taste that is his now. The heartrate that is his now. The two hours of patient harvest that he planned and executed and collected and is currently working through, methodically, with his hand moving in long slow strokes and his tongue still carrying the memory of cold and salt.

He reaches for the jar.

Doesn't stop what his right hand is doing.

Tips the last third in and holds it, swilling, lazy and deliberate, and his hips start moving on their own and the moan that builds is long and rough and tastes like himself, which is maybe the most obscene thing yet — that the sound and the taste are happening at the same time, that he is producing pleasure and consuming pleasure and they are the same source, the same body, the same his —

He swallows.

Groans at the ceiling, uunnhh, long and unraveling, the sound of a man who is very much not done with himself and has absolutely nowhere to be.

His free hand finds his chest again. Squeezes. Staying warm.

"You're gonna tell me everything," he says, low and almost fond, to the body that already has, that already gave him two hours and a full canister and is now giving him this, this slow cooperative climb back toward the edge with its elevated heart and its catalogue of sensitivities and its particular, specific, unrepeatable taste.

He strokes himself and watches his own hand move and smiles in a way that doesn't have a clean name.

I’d been living in the building for about four months when I first noticed the way my next-door neighbor Kevin looked at me.

Mid-to-late fifties, silver hair cropped short, always dressed in either crisp button-downs or very nice workout clothes. Even on the days he clearly wasn’t trying, he looked put together. Every time we passed each other in the narrow hallway, he’d stop, smile that slow, easy smile, and find some reason to chat. The weather. The new gym down the block. Whether I’d tried the Thai place on the corner. His eyes would linger just a second too long on my shoulders, my arms, the way my tank top clung after a boxing session. I wasn’t stupid. I knew exactly what those glances meant.

I wasn’t interested. Not really. Kevin was handsome for his age — tall, still broad in the chest, with a deep voice that carried easy confidence — but he was over thirty years older than me. I just wasn’t into that.

Still, the attention was flattering. A man like him could probably pull plenty of guys my age if he wanted. He didn’t push, didn’t make it weird, so I just smiled back, kept the conversations short, and went about my business.

Then one Thursday night, close to midnight, there was a knock on my door.

I was sprawled on the couch in gym shorts and a hoodie, half-watching Netflix and half-scrolling on my phone, when the sound startled me. I figured it was the delivery guy with the wrong apartment again. Instead, when I opened the door, Kevin was standing there in a dark sweater, looking unusually nervous.

“Hey, Gio,” he said, voice low. “Sorry to bother you this late. Mind if I come in for a minute?”

I hesitated, then stepped aside. “Yeah, sure. Everything okay?”

He walked in, hands in his pockets, and glanced around my living room.

He didn’t sit down.

“I’ve been thinking about how to say this,” he started, then gave a short laugh. “There’s no graceful way, so I’ll just be direct.”

I raised an eyebrow, folding my arms across my chest. Here it comes.

But instead of the expected confession, Kevin reached into his jacket and pulled out a small, sleek device — black, palm-sized, with a glowing blue ring around the edge. It looked like something out of a sci-fi movie.

“This is, uh… this is a Chronovac,” he said, holding it up. His fingers trembled slightly as he turned it in his hands. “It, um… it can change things about reality. Like… swap stuff.”

He swallowed hard, eyes flicking between the device and my face.

“I can swap people’s ages… temporarily. Or, or, or permanently if you want, I guess. It’s been a long time since I’ve used it, but since you moved in I just… I don’t know, you seemed like the right kind of guy who might… who might want to give it a try?”

I stared at him.

Kevin nodded quickly, eyes flicking between the device and my face.

“Yeah. It could make me be in my mid twenties again. And you’d… you’d become sixty-one,” he said.

Damn. He was even older than I’d realized—and he still kept himself in incredible shape.

“…Just for the weekend, if that’s all you’re comfortable with. I know it sounds completely insane. It’s just… it’s been so long, and I’ve really been craving it. With someone like you.” The pieces clicked together in my head, and I almost laughed. This had to be some elaborate joke. Or maybe the guy was having a midlife crisis and this was his weird way of flirting. Either way, it was ridiculous.

“You’re serious,” I said, half question, half statement.

“Dead serious.” He turned the device slowly in his hands, thumb brushing over the glowing ring. There was something hungry in his eyes now, something raw and long-denied. Something in his face confirmed to me he wasn’t kidding.

I thought about it—really thought about it. About what sixty-one would feel like sitting on my frame. About the weight of those extra decades suddenly pressing into my bones, my skin, my cock. My mouth went dry.

Finally, I let out a slow breath.

“Alright,” I said. “Let’s do it.”

Kevin’s face lit up with pure relief, edged with something darker and hotter. “You’re sure? No pressure if it’s too weird—”

“I’m sure. Just the weekend, right? We swap back Sunday night?”

“Right.”

He stepped closer, close enough that I could smell the faint, expensive scent of his cologne mixed with warm skin. He held the Chronovac between us, pressed his thumb to the glowing ring. A soft chime filled the room.

“Ready?” he asked, voice husky.

I nodded.

The device hummed to life. A warm, heavy pressure bloomed deep in my chest, then surged outward like liquid heat flooding every vein. My vision blurred for a heartbeat. When it cleared, the world felt… different. Heavier.

My shoulders were still broad, but the muscle sat differently now—denser, more substantial. My arms looked thicker, the veins less razor-sharp, the skin just a little looser over the bulk. And I was covered in a thick layer of hair.

I looked back over at him. Across from me stood a version of Kevin I’d never imagined.

Twenty-seven years old, and fucking stunning.

“Fuck…” he whispered, voice now younger, smoother, and full of energy. He ran both hands over his new chest, then down his flat stomach, clearly savoring every inch. His fingers lingered at the waistband of his shorts, tracing the sharp V-lines. A wide, almost boyish grin spread across his bearded face. “This feels even better than I remembered.”

I cleared my throat. My voice came out deeper, rougher, with a slight gravelly edge that hadn’t been there before. “Jesus, Kevin… you’re really sixty-one, I swear I never would’ve thought you were that old?” I said, feeling up my new body.

“Sixty-one last month,” he said, still staring at his new arms like he couldn’t believe they were his. He rolled his shoulders and laughed softly. “God, I missed this. The energy. The way everything just… moves.”

He stepped closer to the mirror hanging by the door and turned sideways, checking out his profile.

Meanwhile, I was still trying to get used to the new balance in my own body. I shifted my weight and felt the subtle difference in my posture. My back didn’t hurt exactly, but it felt… like it had carried a lot of years.

Kevin turned back to me, eyes bright with excitement. “How do you feel?”

“Weird,” I admitted, running a hand over my new jaw. The stubble was coarser, the skin a little rougher. “Heavier. But not bad. Just… different.”

He smiled. “Well you look good, Gio. Really good. That silver looks sharp on you.”

It was already one in the morning, so eventually he slipped back to his own apartment. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with a body that was and wasn’t mine.

I stood there for a long minute, then walked slowly to the full-length mirror in the bedroom. I turned sideways, ran a hand over the new softness of my stomach, tested the solid weight of my arms. I lifted my shirt and studied the thicker chest hair, the gentler swell of my midsection, the way my shoulders still carried a lifetime of muscle even if the sharp definition had mellowed into something heavier, more mature.

It was weird. Surreal, even.

But as I stood there flexing my hands and feeling the quiet, grounded strength still humming beneath the surface, a strange sense of relief settled deep in my chest. If this was a glimpse of my future… it didn’t feel bad at all.

—

Sunday evening, just after eight, there was a knock on my door. Kevin — well twenty-seven-year-old Kevin — stepped inside with a bright, almost boyish grin.

“Hey,” he said, voice smooth and energetic. “I just need to thank you again before we switch back. That was… incredible. Best weekend I’ve had in years.”

He looked flushed, like he’d just come from the gym or maybe from somewhere more exciting.

“I hope it wasn’t too much of a paid for you” he said.

“Not at all, it was actually… enlightening,” I replied. My voice came out deeper and steadier than it had been just a few days earlier. “I guess we have to swap back. I’ve got work in the morning, and I don’t know what they’d do if I showed up as a sixty-one-year-old version of myself.”

Kevin nodded, already pulling the Chronovac from his pocket. “You’re right. Real life calls.” As he toggled with the settings, I asked, “What else can that thing do, anyway?”

He took a shaky breath, still fiddling with the device, eyes fixed on the glowing ring instead of me. “A lot, actually. Age swaps are just the beginning. It can tweak personality traits — make someone more outgoing, more disciplined, more… submissive, whatever you want. It can shift sexualities, heighten or dull certain drives. Hell, it can even do full body swaps. I’ve only really played with the lighter stuff like the age swaps, but yeah… the potential is… it’s wild.” Just as he finished speaking, he paused, thumb hovering over the glowing ring like he was wrestling with something. The air between us thickened again. Before he could press it, I stopped him.

“Wait,” I said, my deeper voice cutting through the tension. My heart was pounding hard enough that I could feel it in my thicker chest. “What if we didn’t swap back right away?”Just as hew as finished toggling, he paused, thumb hovering over the glowing ring, as if he was thinking. Before he could say anything, I stopped him and asked

“Wait,” I said, my deeper voice cutting through the tension. “Instead of just swapping our ages back… what if you took my real body for the whole week? You could go out into the world and actually be me. Go to my job at the warehouse, hang with my friends, live a real twenty-seven-year-old’s life.”

Kevin blinked, his borrowed young face flashing surprise. “Gio… that’s a big step. I don’t want to take advantage—”

“You’re not,” I cut in, stepping closer. “I’m offering. You seemed really happy just now, and I didn’t exactly hate being older. We can’t stay age swapped forever since we both have real lives to get back to this week, but there’s nothing saying we can’t fill in for each other. Why not let the fun last a little longer?”

He hesitated, fully wanting to take me up on it, but his eyes searching my older face for any sign of doubt. They didn’t find any. Finally, he let out a slow breath. “Alright. If you’re really sure.”

He adjusted the settings on the Chronovac, the blue light pulsing brighter. “Full body swap it is.”

The hum was deeper this time, almost electric, vibrating through my bones. A rushing sensation pulled at every part of me—bones, skin, muscle, even the rhythm of my heartbeat and the flicker of memories at the edge of my mind. When it finally stopped, I was staring at myself from across the room.

Perfect copy. My face, my build, my tattoos, even the small scar above my left eyebrow from that bad sparring session two years ago. Kevin was now me, completely.

And I was him.

Every inch of Kevin’s sixty-one-year-old body—which I had to admit was far more impressive than the sixty-one-year-old version of me had been—was now mine.

He flexed my fingers, rolled my shoulders, and grinned with my mouth. “Holy shit. This feels… fantastic. Your body feels so much more sensitive than mine. I feel so fucking horny right now.”

My original frame was a bit shorter than the twenty-seven-year-old version he’d just had, but he seemed to love the difference in build. As I watched him move around my apartment, testing the lighter, more agile limbs, something hot and unnameable stirred deep in my gut. I couldn’t quite place it, but I liked that he was me now. It was distinctly different from the age swap. This… this was him pretending to be me. Knowing he would go see my friends later, talk like me, move like me, live my life—it made my thicker cock twitch with a rush I wasn’t ready to admit out loud.

We parted ways again, except this time I went back to Kevin’s apartment and he stayed in mine.

Even though it was only Sunday night at 9 pm by the time we’d finished the full body swap, Kevin had clearly wasted no time. I had barely settled onto his couch — still getting used to the weight of his broader frame and the way his legs stretched out longer than mine used to — when I heard the front door of my apartment open and close next door. Then voices. A girl’s light laugh, followed by Kevin’s — my — voice, smooth and confident, saying something low that made her giggle again.

I sat there in the dark, the only light coming from the faint glow of the city outside the window, and listened.

The sounds were unmistakable.

Low laughter turning into soft moans. The rustle of clothes hitting the floor. The rhythmic creak of my bed as they moved onto it. Her gasps growing sharper, breathier. And his deep voice — my voice — encouraging her, telling her how good she felt, how tight she was, how he wanted to hear her moan louder.

He fucked her hard and loud.

The headboard started banging steadily against the shared wall, each thrust punctuated by her cries and his low, satisfied grunts. I could picture it perfectly: my younger, athletic body moving with that cocky new energy he’d already picked up, hips snapping forward, sweat glistening on my old skin.

I sat on Kevin’s couch, heart pounding, something strange and warm stirring deep in my gut. He was fucking as me.

My hand moved almost on its own. I reached down, pushed aside the loose sweatpants I was wearing, and wrapped my fingers around Kevin’s cock — thicker, heavier than mine had been, already half-hard from listening. I started stroking slowly at first, matching the rhythm I could hear through the wall.

As Kevin picked up the pace next door, I picked up mine.

Every time the headboard slammed against the wall, I stroked in unison. His groans grew deeper, more urgent. The girl was practically whimpering now, begging him not to stop. My own breathing grew ragged, chest rising and falling heavily in this older body.

When Kevin finally came — letting out a loud, guttural groan that echoed through the thin walls, followed by the sound of him bracing himself against the wall with one hand to steady himself — I came too.

Hot spurts landed across my stomach and chest, thick and warm. I bit back a groan of my own, thighs tensing as the orgasm rolled through me, leaving me panting in the dark.

For a long minute afterward, I just sat there, cum cooling on my skin, listening to the muffled sounds of them catching their breath, soft laughter, the murmur of voices. Then the apartment next door went quiet.

I looked down at the mess on Kevin’s stomach — my stomach now — and let out a slow, shaky breath.

This was only the first night.

—

A week — and what sounded like numerous fuck sessions with different girls and guys — later, Kevin knocked on my door again — or rather, on his old door this time.

He looked a little sheepish but energized, shifting his weight from one foot to the other like he couldn’t quite decide whether to smile or look guilty. My face looked good on him — flushed from whatever workout or adventure he’d just come from, eyes bright.

“Time to swap back?” he asked, rubbing the back of my neck with a familiar gesture.

I shook my head, smiling with Kevin’s calm, older face. The expression felt natural now, steady and knowing. “Nah. You’re welcome to stay like that a bit longer if you want.”

He laughed softly, the sound warm and young coming from my throat. “I appreciate it, Gio, but I wouldn’t want to do that to you — steal your youth like that. It’s generous, but no. Let’s get you back in your body.”

We swapped back. I had to admit, being back in my twenty-seven-year-old frame felt good — though I’d miss something about being Kevin, thats for sure.

So before he left, I just had to ask, “Hey… can I hang on to the Chronovac for a little while? Just to understand it a bit more.”

Kevin hesitated only a second, then handed it over. “Sure. Just… be careful with it. And bring it back when you’re done.”

The next night, alone in my apartment, I powered the device on and scrolled through the advanced options until I found the personality settings. I selected Kevin’s profile and made careful adjustments: a strong, growing craving for youth. A quiet voice in his head that would make him regret turning down the offer. I hit confirm.

Less than twenty-four hours later, there was an urgent knock on my door.

Kevin stood there, eyes wide, breathing a little fast. My body looked tense on him, shoulders tight, like he’d been pacing before he worked up the nerve to come over.

“Gio… I changed my mind,” he said, voice low and urgent. “I want to swap again. Please. Just for a little while longer. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

I leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over my chest, and raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile. “Really? I thought you didn’t want to steal my youth.”

He flushed, shifting on his feet, my face turning a shade darker. “Oh please, I didn't really say that, did I? Come on, man. I was being polite before. I want this. I need it.”

I watched him for a moment, enjoying the hunger in his eyes — hunger I’d put there.

Then I picked up the Chronovac, adjusted the settings back to full body swap, and held it between us.

“Alright,” he said. “If you’re sure.”

The device hummed to life again.

—

A few days later, while he was out “being me” at the gym, I opened the Chronovac again. This time I went deeper into the personality settings. I dialed up the cockiness — just a notch at first. Made him a little more arrogant about how good he looked now, how much attention he got, how naturally the role of young, hot boxer fit him. I added a strong, swelling desire not just to be young, but to be me — to own my life completely.

I hit confirm and waited.

It didn’t take long to see the changes.

He started walking with more swagger when he passed my door. He’d knock, lean against the frame with my arms crossed, and smirk with my mouth like he owned the hallway. “Fuck, man, it is so easy to get laid as you,” he’d say, voice dripping with new confidence. “Girls at the gym are practically throwing themselves at me. Some of your boxing buddies keep checking me out on the DL too — I fucked that guy Connor actually. He's in the closet and apparently loves the taste of your cock.”

I’d just smile with Kevin’s calm, older face and nod. “Glad you’re enjoying it.”

One evening, we ran into each other in the building gym and I asked casually, “You ready to swap back soon?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “Nah, no way. Sorry, I’m having way too much fun. Can we stay like this just a bit longer?”

I played it up after that. Every few days I’d sigh and tell him I really wanted my body back, that I missed my own routine, my friends, my fights. He’d get this desperate look in my eyes and start begging.

“Come on, Gio, please,” he’d say, stepping closer, voice low and urgent. “Just a little more time. I need this. You don’t understand how good it feels. I’ll do anything — just don’t make me give it back yet.”

The more I pretended to hesitate, the more he begged. It was addictive watching him squirm inside my skin.

And every single night, without fail, he came home with another fuckable young guy or girl. Each time I lay there in Kevin’s bed in the dark, listening through the thin walls, a warm thrill would roll through my borrowed body. I’d hear my own voice commanding some girl to take it deeper, rough and confident, or sometimes a guy’s low groan calling him a good boy while he got fucked harder.

I’d lie there stroking Kevin’s thicker cock slowly, letting the sounds wash over me.

I liked watching “Gio” own my life. No — I loved it.

One quiet evening, after another marathon session next door, I decided it was time to push further.

I picked up the Chronovac and went all in on Kevin’s profile. I cranked the craving until it was overwhelming: an all-consuming need to be me forever.

Then I waited.

Two nights later, I woke up to a faint noise in the living room. I got up, moving with Kevin’s heavier steps, and found him — my body, my face — crouched by the coffee table where I’d left the device. He had it in his hands. Before I could say anything, he raised it high and smashed it hard against the edge of the table. Plastic cracked. The blue ring flickered once and died.

He looked up at me, eyes wild with triumph and lust.

For a second I just stood there, staring at him —chest heaving, sweat already glistening on my old skin from the adrenaline. He had made it permanent.

And it turned me on so fucking much I couldn’t think straight.

I crossed the room in two strides, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, and shoved him back against the wall. “You little shit,” I growled with Kevin’s deep, authoritative voice, pretending to be furious even as my cock thickened in my borrowed sweatpants. “You really think you can steal my life? What the fuck!?”

He grinned — my grin, sharp and defiant — and didn’t even try to push me away.

I spun him around, pressing his chest to the wall, yanking his shorts down with one rough hand. “You’re such a greedy, selfish piece of shit,” I snarled hotly against his ear, freeing my thicker, heavier cock. It was already leaking, the fat head slick as I rubbed it up and down his crack, teasing his hole. “Stealing my youth, my face, my tight fucking ass… acting like you own it now.”

He moaned loudly, pushing back against me with desperate hunger, his hole twitching against the head of my cock. “Do it,” he gasped, voice cracking with need.

I didn’t need more invitation.

I shoved inside him raw and deep, one hard thrust that made us both groan. He was tight, hot, and already rocking back to meet every stroke. I fucked him right there against the wall, one hand gripping his hip, the other braced beside his head.

“Fuck… you feel that?” I growled between savage thrusts, my voice thick and ragged with lust. “That’s what you get for thinking you could just take what’s mine. Stealing my cock, my life, my fucking future—now you’re getting fucked by the old man whose body you trapped me in.” He was whimpering, pushing back harder, his own cock—my cock—leaking steadily against the wall as I railed him. “Yes—fuck yes—keep going,” he begged, voice hoarse. “Harder. Ruin me. I don’t care—I made it permanent because I needed this. Needed to be you. Needed your life.”

The confession, the sheer filthy greed in his words, sent a white-hot spike of arousal through me. I fucked him even harder, deeper, grinding against his prostate with every brutal snap of my hips. The knowledge that there was no way back—that he had destroyed any chance of returning—made the pleasure darker, more intense. I was trapped in Kevin’s mature, powerful body, balls-deep in my own stolen young form, and it was the hottest thing I’d ever felt. I didn’t last long. The tight clench of his ass, the way my own body was milking me so perfectly, the raw, taboo thrill of it all pushed me over the edge fast.

With a deep, guttural roar I buried myself to the hilt and came hard inside him, pulsing again and again in thick, heavy ropes. I flooded my own stolen body with Kevin’s load, filling him until it started leaking out around my cock with every shallow thrust.

We stayed locked together, breathing heavy, bodies slick with sweat, my cock still twitching inside him as the last spurts drained out.

Then he turned his head just enough to smirk at me over his shoulder—my own face flushed, lips parted, eyes glazed with satisfaction and filthy victory.

“Worth it,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “So fucking worth it.”

The worst part about coming back to my apartment and seeing my roommate's detached head watching a movie on the couch? Knowing that it meant his body was making a mess somewhere else. My original plans to room with other guys in my major had fallen through, and I ended up stuck sharing a lease with Glenn, a warlock whose sole focus seemed to be working out and getting laid. There was always a thin layer of empty protein shake bottles and dirty dishes on the floor, all of his clothes were flung onto random surfaces in the living room, and the entire room smelled like a dank locker room.

"Dammit, Glenn!" I yelled, trying to be heard over the sound of Netflix. "Your body is making a mess in the kitchen again!"

He just rolled his eyes at me. "Whatever, you know that I like to have me time in the evenings. My body is just taking a break from doing pushups, or something. You're gay, you like the eye candy."

I tried not to let his cheap jab bother me. "More like it's taking a break from jacking off," I muttered. At least it was wearing pants this time. Half the time Glenn's body was wiping its bare ass all over our countertops, rather than just dripping sweat everywhere.

Today, I was not going to be bothered. Today, I had a plan.

"You know, I heard something interesting from our new neighbor Allan," I said, casually slipping off my backpack. "It turns out he's a warlock too. And he mentioned that you should have a lot more control over your detached body than you told me."

Glenn didn't even bother to look over in my direction. "We've been over this, dweeb. I can't stop my body from taking off its clothes if it gets uncomfortable. I bet he's using a different spell or something."

I slowly made my way over to the kitchen, where his body was just lounging around. "Good question. He's right here, so why don't you ask him yourself?" I pulled Allan's head out of my backpack, taking care not to pull his hair too hard. "Or maybe I'll just put his head on your body."

"Don't you fucking dare!" he yelled, trying to scramble his body to its feet. It was too late, though. I lunged forward, placing Allan's head onto Glenn's neck. There was a flash of magic, and now it was Allan in control of Glenn's massive muscles. "You fucking thief! Don't you dare just leave me as a detached head!"

Allan picked up Glenn's head and set him down on the end table. "Calm down. It's selfish jerks like you who give warlocks a bad name. We'll get bored of punishing you... eventually." He sprawled across the couch, and started rubbing his new hands across his bulging abs. "I have to admit, controlling a body like this, I do kind of understand the appeal. I thought we'd give him back his body after a few hours, but maybe I'll keep it for a day or two."

Allan looked over at me with a shit-eating grin. "What do you think, neighbor? Want to help me break in my new body?"

"You know it!" I said, kneeling down to suck on Allan's new, rock hard nipples. "But we're staying out here on the couch. Glenn has been an absolute ass these past several months, and I want him to see everything that we do to his body. I want him to know that it all could have been avoided if he hadn't been such an asshole to me." Allan's fingers ran through my hair as my mouth started to wander down south toward his crotch.

Glenn's head started to scream so loudly that he tipped over sideways. "No! No! Don't you dare! Stop it! No!" He kept yelling as my hand slipped into Allan's waistband and pulled out his stiffening cock.

"Damn, son," Allan said, letting out a low whistle. "That's gotta be... what, seven inches? That settles it, I'm keeping this body for the weekend. Here, let me grab my own body from down the hall." I paused our makeout session to let Allan concentrate, and pretty soon the headless body of a bear let itself into our apartment.

"Absolutely not!" Glenn yelled, as Allan's original body started to slowly unbutton its shirt. "I'd rather stay headless than be stuck piloting that hairy sack of fat!"

Allan just shrugged, his smug grin getting even wider. "Suit yourself," he said, rubbing his chest while I stripped off my clothes. "We'll just have a threesome with my bodies while you watch."

"Hold that thought," I said, grabbing one of Glenn's stray socks from off the floor. Placing one hand on his forehead, I shoved the sock deep into his mouth to gag him. He coughed and sputtered, but the cheap cotton was starting to cling to the inside of his mouth. "I want him to watch, but I'd rather not have to listen to him spew insults."

Allan laughed as he watched Glenn's head trying and failing to spit out the makeshift gag. "Sounds good to me. This is your fantasy, bud, I'm just here to enjoy the ride. How do you want me?"

I paused, weighing pleasure and humiliation as I decided how to fuck my roommate's hot body. It helped that Allan's head was easy on the eyes, of course. "Let's start with a double spoon. Your old body penetrates your new ass, and your new cock penetrates my ass."

"You don't want to dump a load in your roommate's bubble butt?" Allan said, slapping it for emphasis.

Charles had just finished his workout, which was his favorite time to take selfies. The gym always had great lighting, and the sweat accentuated his muscles in a way that gave each photo a raw, masculine vibe. He'd taken a few really good ones when a text message from Paxton popped up. "Hey, I've got that sponsorship deal in a few hours, but it'll take time to get ready. Are you done with the body yet?"

God, his life was weird. Paxton was his roommate, a complete stranger he'd met through a Facebook group. Meeting new people after college was hard, and they seemed compatible enough based on his profile. And they were, except it turned out that magic was real, and Paxton knew how to use it. Charles should have hated the guy-- three weeks after they moved in together, Paxton stole his life with a body swapping spell. But honestly, Paxton did a pretty good job trying to follow all of his fitness habits, and Charles welcomed the break from his strict training regimen. When the life of a professional bodybuilder became overwhelming, Paxton was willing to swap back instead of ruining his life. He accepted the olive branch at face value, rather than trying to seek revenge against the warlock-- Charles was just happy that everything was back to normal.

He treated his bodybuilding career as more of a hobby than anything else-- he loved spending time in the gym, but he knew that the prize money wasn't enough to live on. His remote white collar job supported paid just enough to support his hobbies and passions, and that's how he liked it. In a world where fitness coaches and influencers were everywhere, trying to turn his passion into a steady paycheck sounded like a nightmare. Paxton, however, was convinced that his roommate had what it took to make it big. So when the warlock proposed a body swapping deal, well... Charles knew that the man wasn't bluffing.

Charles would be guaranteed to keep his body during workouts and competitions, hangouts with his bros, and to sleep at night. Paxton would take his body for social networking events and as many healthy meals as their schedules permitted. In exchange, Paxton would get to take his body for nights out on the town as arranged in advance. It was a lot of swapping, but it really did seem like a fair arrangement. Charles figured it was worth it to be able to skip all of the calorie counting and protein math that was expected of a successful bodybuilder. If he ever had to eat another bland chicken and rice meal again, it would still be too soon. Eventually Paxton would get tired of their deal, and the two men's lives would go back to normal for a second time.

Although it turned out that he had severely underestimated Paxton's dedication. His roommate was constantly borrowing his body for videos, networking, and countless social media thirst trap posts. Charles now had an account on every major social media platform, and all he had to do was take the occasional workout pic so that Paxton could upload them when it was his time with the body. He wasn't sure how many followers were needed to be considered successful, but he couldn't deny that the numbers kept surpassing his expectations.

Once Paxton managed to secure a promo code with one of his favorite supplement brands, that was when he had to admit that his roommate might have been onto something. "The photos look excellent, you make me look really good," he said, complimenting Paxton once they had swapped back for the evening. "So... how much are they paying you... me... us for this deal-- a few thousand?"

Paxton chuckled. "Well, it's commission based, so we won't know for sure until we get the first paycheck. But I'm optimistic," he added, with a mischievous smirk on his face. Charles knew by now not to press for more information. Paxton would reveal the secret when he was ready, and not a moment earlier. Well, it didn't really affect him all that much. Charles was thankful for the remote nature of his job, since it meant he didn't lose any productivity whenever he suddenly found himself 100 pounds lighter. The deal must not have been a complete failure-- Paxton had made plans for a photoshoot to film a quick celebratory post on his accounts.

"So how much has the sponsorship paid so far?" Charles asked, after taking some nice candid photos of his body at Paxton's request. "You seem happy, so I gotta assume it was at least a few hundred." After recording several takes of a video thanking his followers for their support, the anticipation was killing him.

"A few hundred?" Paxton said, laughing as he gave his original body a few condescending pats on the head. "We've already made over fifteen thousand."

Charles shook his head in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I must have misheard you. The sponsorship has only been live for... what, four weeks? Surely you meant to say fifteen hundred."

Paxton placed his hand on Charles's shoulder. "I meant what I said. I told you this body has what it takes to make it big. Even splitting the earnings 50/50, I'm making enough money that it makes more sense for me to quit my job and focus all of my time on your career. All you have to do is keep this body in shape, and I'll be able to keep the money coming."