“Hey I know you'd kill this. I’d like a story where a woman gets back at her cheating ex by swapping his body with his latest fling. She always thought he was just a selfish player, but after the swap, she realizes nope it was his hormones all along. Now he's stuck as a milf, getting a taste of his own medicine, and she kinda wishes she'd done it way sooner.”
I loved my husband. He was everything a man should be—strong, charismatic, a provider, stoic, intelligent, and hardworking. But he had one flaw. From the moment we started dating, he was never just mine. He always had other women. Cheating wasn’t a mistake to him; it was a choice—one he never hid, never denied. I told myself I could handle it, that love was enough, that I was strong enough. But love can blind you, and I had spent too many years in the dark. It wasn’t fair. So I chose myself. I chose revenge. After our divorce, I set my plan in motion, planting hidden cameras throughout the house he once swore was ours. Not out of longing, not out of regret—out of purpose. I needed to see. I needed proof of what I already knew. And there it was. Him and his latest conquest, stumbling into the empty house, lips locked in reckless passion. The woman next door—a sexy full bodied cougar, a complete contrast to the young lovers he usually chased. The perfect imbalance. The perfect vessels. I whispered the incantation as I watched them. *FLASH* A surge of energy rippled through the screen. Their protoplasm’s flying into each other’s mouth. Their bodies stiffened. Their eyes widened in silent horror. Then I saw it. My husband—now in her body—froze, looking down at his unfamiliar hands, his breath shaky. Panic flickered in his eyes as he stumbled backward, suddenly restrained, uncomfortable. The way he backed away—it was almost… nervous. But her?That was another story. She let out a shuddering breath, her pupils dilating, body language shifting instantly. A hungry smirk curled her lips as she advanced on him, her hands exploring the sexy curves of her own body with an excitement that sent a shiver down my spine. She practically purred as she pressed against him, desperate, insatiable. And that’s when it hit me. I had spent years thinking he was a monster. That he chose to be this way. That he cheated because he lacked empathy, because he didn’t care. But watching him now, recoiling in disgust as her former body—cornered her like prey, I realized the truth. It was never just him. It was her testosterone. Her old biology. The very thing that once made her relentless, that made me suffer, was now turning against her. And now, she was going to feel it firsthand. I almost laughed. I should’ve done this sooner. If I had swapped with him when we were married, maybe—just maybe—I would have understood. Maybe we both would have. Oh well. Too late now. All I can do now is enjoy watching him get fucked.
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