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Alexa had been hurrying me all afternoon to get ready for our date. She was radiant, dressed in this tight little denim top and a cream mini-skirt that hugged her curves. Her nails, both hands and toes, were polished to perfection, and those sky-blue heels lying nearby were the perfect finishing touch. Meanwhile, I was slouching around in an oversized hoodie and jeans, clearly not up to her standards. "You're not leaving this house looking like that, Jacob," she said, hands on her hips. "It's date night, not a trip to the hardware store." "I'll change!" | protested, but she rolled her eyes. "Nope. We don't have time." With a sly smile, she leaned closer, and before I could ask what she was up to, I felt a sudden, dizzying shift. My vision tilted, the room spun, and the next thing ! knew, I was staring at... myself. She grinned before speaking in my voice. "I'll fix this mess upstairs. You stay here, and don't mess around in my body." I blinked, trying to comprehend the situation, but the sensation of long, silky hair brushing against my bare shoulders brought it crashing down. I looked down— her chest filled my view, the denim top tight and snug against soft skin I wasn't used to. My hands moved instinctively, delicate and feminine, tracing the curves of a body that wasn't mine. The warmth of her smooth legs under my touch, the sensation of the chain strap from her purse against my shoulder-it was overwhelming. As I sat down carefully on the edge of the couch, a strange, intimate sensation caught my attention. Something barely there, snug and teasing, pressed against me. My eyes widened as I realized, I was wearing a thong. Every subtle shift in movement made it impossible to ignore, the delicate fabric brushing and grazing against an unfamiliar slit. It was maddeningly distracting, an arousing reminder of how different this body was, how feminine and sensual it felt. I tried to focus, but the scent of her perfume wafted up, light and floral, intoxicating in a way l'd never noticed before. My gaze drifted to her legs-my legs now— crossed daintily at the knee. They were so smooth, so toned, glowing under the soft light. I traced my manicured fingers down to my pedicured toes, now painted a playful neon pink. Even the slight weight of the anklet felt strangely sensual. "This is ridiculous," I muttered, but my voice came out in her soft, feminine tone. I clapped a hand over my mouth, startled, and the feel of her lips-my lips-beneath my fingertips only made things worse. I couldn't stop myself. My hands moved almost of their own accord, brushing over the curve of my temporary hips, up to the swell of my delicate breasts. The fabric of the top pressed snugly against my hands, and I marveled at how effortlessly sexy she always looked. It wasn't just the clothes or the makeup-it was her essence. And now, I was feeling it in a way I never could before. "Jacob!" her voice snapped from upstairs— except it wasn't her voice. It was mine. "What are you doing down there?" "Nothing!" | called back, too quickly. My cheeks burned as I scrambled to compose myself, smoothing the skirt and crossing my legs again like I hadn't just been exploring every inch of her form. "Don't you dare mess with my heels!" With this moistness building up between my legs and my childlike curiosity...her blue stilettos should be the last thing she should be worried...
Alexa had been hurrying me all afternoon to get ready for our date. She was radiant, dressed in this tight little denim top and a cream mini-skirt that hugged her curves. Her nails, both hands and toes, were polished to perfection, and those sky-blue heels lying nearby were the perfect finishing touch. Meanwhile, I was slouching around in an oversized hoodie and jeans, clearly not up to her standards. "You're not leaving this house looking like that, Jacob," she said, hands on her hips. "It's date night, not a trip to the hardware store." "I'll change!" | protested, but she rolled her eyes. "Nope. We don't have time." With a sly smile, she leaned closer, and before I could ask what she was up to, I felt a sudden, dizzying shift. My vision tilted, the room spun, and the next thing ! knew, I was staring at... myself.
ReplyDeleteShe grinned before speaking in my voice. "I'll fix this mess upstairs. You stay here, and don't mess around in my body." I blinked, trying to comprehend the situation, but the sensation of long, silky hair brushing against my bare shoulders brought it crashing down. I looked down— her chest filled my view, the denim top tight and snug against soft skin I wasn't used to. My hands moved instinctively, delicate and feminine, tracing the curves of a body that wasn't mine. The warmth of her smooth legs under my touch, the sensation of the chain strap from her purse against my shoulder-it was overwhelming. As I sat down carefully on the edge of the couch, a strange, intimate sensation caught my attention. Something barely there, snug and teasing, pressed against me. My eyes widened as I realized, I was wearing a thong. Every subtle shift in movement made it impossible to ignore, the delicate fabric brushing and grazing against an unfamiliar slit. It was maddeningly distracting, an arousing reminder of how different this body was, how feminine and sensual it felt. I tried to focus, but the scent of her perfume wafted up, light and floral, intoxicating in a way l'd never noticed before. My gaze drifted to her legs-my legs now— crossed daintily at the knee. They were so smooth, so toned, glowing under the soft light.
I traced my manicured fingers down to my pedicured toes, now painted a playful neon pink. Even the slight weight of the anklet felt strangely sensual. "This is ridiculous," I muttered, but my voice came out in her soft, feminine tone. I clapped a hand over my mouth, startled, and the feel of her lips-my lips-beneath my fingertips only made things worse. I couldn't stop myself. My hands moved almost of their own accord, brushing over the curve of my temporary hips, up to the swell of my delicate breasts. The fabric of the top pressed snugly against my hands, and I marveled at how effortlessly sexy she always looked. It wasn't just the clothes or the makeup-it was her essence. And now, I was feeling it in a way I never could before. "Jacob!" her voice snapped from upstairs— except it wasn't her voice. It was mine. "What are you doing down there?" "Nothing!" | called back, too quickly. My cheeks burned as I scrambled to compose myself, smoothing the skirt and crossing my legs again like I hadn't just been exploring every inch of her form. "Don't you dare mess with my heels!" With this moistness building up between my legs and my childlike curiosity...her blue stilettos should be the last thing she should be worried...