Quick Swap

It was one of those days. I didn't sleep well and, I don't know really why, but when I don't, I find myself daydreaming. I imagine of swapping bodies with everyone I see in the streets. I watch a lot of porn, more than I have the force to admit. I complain, I blame it on whatever, but I know it's because of sleep deprivation. And still, I do not do anything to sleep more.

I can not focus on my studies so I leave the library and go to the gym. I push hard, but I really can not perform. I turn on the volume of my iphone, but despite how loud the music I cannot erase my crappy thoughts.

I waste three minutes undecided as to what song to play next, when across the gym I see this blond guy in a striped top.

Holy Fuck! I'm like star struck. I cannot take my eyes off him. I run on the treadmill, I row, but every other minute I find my eyes returning to him. The way he moves and lifts weights is amazing. I had never seen someone like him. He passes his hand through his hair and I almost come. I'd better go, I think.

I go to the changing room. I take off my shirt and, as usual, I take a picture. (I know I'm fucked up, leave me in peace). 

And it is at that moment that I see him coming to the changing room. I hide inside one of the toilets and spy him. The guy opens his locker and takes out a bottle of water. He returns to the gym leaving the locker open.

I come closer and open it. Inside there's his gym bag, his boots, his clothes. Hanging from the hook a 

beanie. I put that one when I see the guy is back. 'What the fuck!'

I don't know what to do and I punch him in the face. He falls to the ground. I drag his body into one of the toilets. Other people are coming. I hold my breath. I hear voices, the noise of objects getting dropped, of zips getting unzipped. And I'm here with this hot body in my arms. It is at that point that I kiss him. My body metamorphoses into his.

I quickly take his clothes off and put them on. His white underwear, his jersey trousers, in whose pockets I found his black iphone. I do not bother about his striped top but I keep the beanie on.

The voices grow quieter. I put my clothes on him and leave the toilet.

Wow. At the mirror, looking back at me there is this hot blond guy.

I get back to the locker and quickly gather my stuff, among which I find a wallet. 'Travis' That's my name now? After a few hours I am in an apartment I have never seen, playing with a wardrobe that is definitely not mine. I don't have baseball hats. I have never been in New York.

It's like playing with dolls. I put stuff on and off for hours and take pictures of me all the time. By looking here and there I start getting a sense of whom Travis may be, but I also think that I can now turn it the way I want. Is this another chance in life? I hope at least I can sleep better, finally.

Radiations

John and I were best buddies. We went to high school together, we go to gym together, we even go to the solarium together, which is where this story starts.

I'm the blond, he's the dark one. I know, I always liked John. There is something about him - his clean face, his careless hairstyles, his icy eyes, perhaps - that just takes me. But he's practically married with Simon now and I'm with Patrick anyways. We did make out once, but that was almost two years ago. A drunk night. I don't even think he remembers and I should forget as well, actually.
Anyways, we were both tanning when something went horribly wrong. There was an outage, we stayed in the dark for almost a minute. 'Don't touch yourself,' shouted John. Oh John's off-putting remarks. That's probably why I like him.

After a moment, the power returned, but I felt almost bombarded by rays, as if I were hit by high-intensity rays. I felt like I was Peter Parker before becoming Spiderman. I cannot tell for sure, but that's when I think everything started.
Dizzily, I left the bed and went to the changing room. 'Did you feel that weird sensation too?' asked John while we were waiting for our credit card to go through. We parted ways. We'd meet later at the club anyways.

I went to Topshop. I tried on a smart blue shirt and a blazer.

 I felt like dressing up as the venue we were going to was fancy. In my ripped jeans and tnned Oxford brogues, I felt sexy. The guy outside of the changing room must have felt my confidence because he gave me that look. 'What are you looking for?' I whispered, while handing him some of the items I was not going to buy. 'Flirty' he said, surprised. After he hanged a shirt on a hanger, he swiftly touched my crotch. I looked at him. I was horny. I could have fucked him right there, in front of every one. But I gave him half a smile and went, like the bitchy customer I was.

John arrived at the club late, as usual. The funny thing is that we were both wearing the same types of clothes. A dark blue jacket, a blue shirt. We looked like twins. 'We know each other too well,' he said while I was passing him a beer. We sat. 'I know, we're like a married couple,' I echoed. The occasion required a photograph.

We had a great time. I cannot even count how many beers we had. We talked about our respective partners, the problems at work, that stupid new policy at the gym. We caught up as we hadn't done in a long long time. But we also chatted with people and danced. 'Lady Gaga! C'mon John, let's party!' I hardly waited for his answer to be on the dance floor, swinging and jumping.

It is because of that euphoric state that I kissed John. My lips landed right there, on his open mouth while he was talking to me. And he kissed back as he grabbed my ass with one hand and the back of my neck with the other. It was long, too. Our tongues were playing and there was an unexpected synergy in our kiss, as if we had been practicing it for years. After I pulled my face away from his I started felling lightheaded.

I went to the bathroom to get some fresh water. While I was resting my arms on the sink, with my face still dripping, I noticed that the skin of my left hand was peeling off. Within 30 seconds the skin of my hand started looking like the skin of a chicken that has been roasted for two hours. I could break it like paper. Within two minutes the same happened to my arm. In five minutes my whole skin fell apart, as if it were a shell of some sort, revealing a whole new layer of fresh, tight skin together with a new body.

I was John. Oh my god. I had turned into mother fucking John. I could not believe it.

It is at that time that John entered. 'Are you OK? You've been here for an awful amount of time.'

I turned to him and that is when he realized that something went wrong. He looked at himself in the mirror over the sink. 'Oh my fucking shit. You're me. And I'm you. I'm YOU!' 

While I had turned into John, John had metamorphosed into me. He was shaking. 'Do not worry John, everything will be alright.' I made him sit and hugged him for a long time. He started sobbing. It took over two hours to relax him. I told him that we would switch back anytime tomorrow and that to find out how I had to look for a spell. The task was daunting, but by no means impossible.

The thing I did not tell him is that I had no intention to search for that crazy formula. Indeed I never did.  Not for a second. To be in John's body was just amazing, why would I give that up? Already on the very first few hours, while I was still shocked by the whole thing, I received more horny looks that I never received before and I'm not a bad-looking guy! Or perhaps I did not really receive them, but it was John's body that made me believe that. Being confident, even supremely so, can transform the way one  looks at the world and at myself.

We agreed to continue each others' lives and after I kissed him goodbye. I went home. I literally counted the seconds before reaching for John's door keys. Once in, I realised that Simon had left the tv on and he was sleeping on the sofa. Poor Simon, whom would he believe tomorrow? I looked up and took a picture of me at the mirror right after the entrance. 

Cool, I felt I had become an unbeatable catch. I could not resist it, I went to the bedroom and stripped myself. I looked at my abs and my bulging chest. I kept on observing every inch of my new body. I took some photographs and sent them to some random guys. To one I even wrote: 'Check this out, from Mr. Shredded.'

And it's then that I felt this urge to call my old me. 'Yeah? Steven here.' 'It's me - well, you - Steve. You know what? I've realized that I would like to fuck you tonight.'

Steven did not seemed shaken in the slightest. 'Come over, he said' in the traditional John's voice he was good to imitate. I went to his place and he opened the door, shirtless.

I really wasn't half bad. Why was I complaining so often about my old body when I inhabited it? I was fit! Or was it John speaking in my head? Did John have a crush on me? Oh well. It didn't matter anymore. Or perhaps it did because when he opened the door shirtless, I almost assaulted him, covering him in kisses and quickly removing his pants. Did John like me? It was so intense and urgent. We didn't even go to the bedroom, we made out right there, by the main door, surrounded by shoes and wet coats and umbrellas. Before that, I took his penis in my mouth and, after licking it and smelling the crisp odour of (unwashed) pubic hair - I sucked it as if I were slurping a piece of ice. 'Good boy,' he said. I grinned I returned to sucking. He moaned. I took his penis in my right hand and started masturbating him, faster and faster, while with the other hand I was caressing his inner thighs. He came on my face, his sperm forming a white spiderweb between my nose and my eyebrows.

A few moments later, while I was coming back from the bathroom, he said. 'You do realise that you'll dump Patrick, I'll dump Simon and we'll finally become a couple. You could move here.'

The sentence excited me beyond belief (a couple? the two of us?) even if I took it as mere flattery at that time.

'And you know,' I continued, 'that we won't.' He stopped smiling. 'I'll remain with Simon, who is a fucking hot model, and make out with him in every single room of the house until I tear him into pieces?' 'What the fuck are you talking about?' now he was getting angry. Without even turning my face, I finished him: 'I'm telling you: I'm never going to give you this body back.'

Happy Birthday

The night was a blast. Everyone was having a good time and I was in a great mood, half drunk and full of energy.

Marco, on my left, patted me on the back: 'Again, happy birthday bro, get another shot.' We turned towards the bar and swallowed another drink. 'Gosh, Marco, it hurts.' I know!'
For a second I was so dazed I could not even see the letters on his Abercrombie sweatshirt.
'Sean, c'mon it's your birthday. Tell me what your real wish. I wanna really make this day special.'
I could hardly stand. 'What are you talking about? You already gave me an awesome gift. That's enough.' 'No, no. I mean, I really want to give you something special. Just name it. Please, just tell me. No matter how crazy it is. I wanna know.'
I paused for a second. Fuelled by the alcohol, I confessed. 'You know what, Marco? I'd really like to be you for one day. I'd like to wear that sweater, your black converse and that Louis Vuitton belt that makes you look like a douchebag.' Marco laughed. 'I'd like to drive you bike and even make out with your girl.' I realized what I said. 'oh! I'm sorry.' He took it with a pinch of salt: 'Do not worry. I take it as a compliment.' 'No, but really, I should not have said that. I never meant to...' 'Sean, it's OK. Do not worry. Come with me instead.'

I followed him to the backyard. The music made the whole bar vibrate as if the walls were made of paper. Marco lit a cigarette. He took a drag. Then he gave me the cigarette. 'C'mon smoke.' 'But I don't smoke, Marco.' 'Try.' And while I was coughing he took off his sweatshirt. 'What the hell are you doing? It's freezing here!' 'Don't ask questions. Put this on and give me yours. Give me also your glasses and keep on smoking.' I started laughing. What was he doing? It didn't matter. I duly followed his orders. I removed my shoes, I took off my pants and threw them on the ground. I started putting Marco's clothes on, starting from his underwear, which nicely wrapped my ass. Then the socks, then I buckled the LV belt. I put on his tee, his sweatshirt. I kept on smoking, or pretending to. I was excited. The whole thing was kind of crazy, typical of Marco. God knows what everyone would think once we re-entered the room with each other's clothes. I started imitating his swagger and his voice. 'Hey Sean. I'm Marco, nice to meet you,' I said.

We started laughing and returned inside for another celebratory drink. While inside, no one said anything about the clothes. Felicia patted on my shoulder 'Marco, how long do we need to stay? I have exams tomorrow.' I turned to her pretending that I was actually her boyfriend. 'We can go whenever you go baby.' 'OK, let's go then.' She took my hand and dragged me towards the exit. 'And you're drunk. I told you hundreds of times not to call me baby.'
I turned towards the exit. No one was noticing that the birthday boy was leaving? Weird. But it was wonderful to be touched by Felicia. Why was Marco not saying anything?

Just outside, while Felicia was unlocking our bikes, someone took a snapshot of me and her. Only the day after did I realise that I had turned into Marco.

I realised it while looking at my shoes. I was wearing Marco's chucks.

I always liked them. Many times I wished to secretly sneaked into his bedroom while he was in the bathroom and put them on, just to feel what it was like to be in his shoes. But wait! I was in his shoes. I had slept in his shoes. What happened?
I started touching my body. It felt so different. It felt trimmed, shredded. It felt as if I had slimmed down of three sizes overnight. I felt light. I touched my flat stomach, the LV buckles. I touched my penis and I gasped. This was not my penis. I was not circumcised. I brought a hand to my mouth only to realise that it was not my hand. I stood up. With my eyes still sticky with dreams I went to the bathroom and discovered that I was in Marco's body. I could not believe it. I had a little golden chain around my neck and those irresistible dark eyes. I had a defined chest and a killer smile.
It was the best feeling in the world. I felt I could do anything.

I went to the kitchen, where Felicia has left a cute message: 'had to sit the exam, see you later love.'
Another bit that felt good. I went back to the room and put my earplugs on. Music roared in my head. I got dressed. I left for school.

Everything seemed new. People looked at me in a different way. That very feeling - that I was miles away from my previous life, that I could do things in a wholly different way, that I was no longer bound to myself, to my history, to my DNA - was the feeling that turned me on, more on than any ripped body ever could. I had to unload. I went to the bathroom of the library and, after locking myself in, masturbated in front of the mirror. In front of my gorgeous face it took me a nanosecond to cum. Gosh. That was good.
Outside the bathroom door, in front of shelves of folders, was Sean.

Well... I mean Marco in my old body. 'Hey. How's it going? Liking the new body.' 'It's OK,' I said. I had no intention of revealing how excited I was. 'Just OK?' 'Yeah. Your body does not deal well with maxi hangovers right?' He laughed. 'Well... don't worry. It will take a second to switch back. We can actually do it here in the bathroom.'
'Ah, it's funny you mention this bathroom, because just now on the paper roll I found a super-cool thing in it that describes exactly how I feel now.' 'What do you mean?' and he opened the door.
He opened the door and did not get it straight away. He turned to me. 'You see, Sean: I'm keeping this body. Thanks for an awesome birthday.'

The Steamy Room

We were training in the gym as usual, me and Greg. It was another usual Monday.

'We're doing arms today', said Greg, patronising. 

He very often had that tone, of a father teaching his little son, but I didn't mind it. He was still very nice of him to go at my own pace. It took me twice the time he took Greg to lift those featherlight dumbbells. Gosh, they seemed so heavy.

Every time after doing his set, he stood next to me, in his black tank top and black beanie, encouraging me to lift weights one more time. 'C'mon Alex, you can do it,' he encouraged me. 

It was patronising, of course. But it was also very nice.

The best part of every workout was however the sauna afterwards. We went there fully dressed, careless of the rules of the gym. In the afternoon it was only the two of us anyways. We usually stayed there for 10 or 15 minutes, until the heat started really hurting.

We usually sat next to each other. His bare shoulder touching mine. We kept our eyes closed and enjoyed lengthy flights of imagination. Sometimes we did not even exchange one word.
On that Monday, I do not know why, I thought it would be nice to wake up in Greg's body. It's not something I put much thinking into. If I were really to choose a body to swap, I'd have picked a taller, more handsome one. Yet, on that day I had a strange fascination for my buddy. I felt my penis getting harder. I was indulging a little too long in this thought when Greg patted me. 'C'mon Alex, let's go. I'm hot.'

We left the steamy room and it's then, when I was standing up, that the unbelievable happened. Out of the mist, I reliazed that I had turned into Greg. I had his cap and tank top on. We looked at each other, but we didn't scream as characters do in the movies. Rather, we were silently stunned. Greg, in my body, was looking intently at me. 'Gosh, it looks so different from the pictures I usually take of me. I'm not that pretty after all.' I was speechless. We turned to the mirror.
'Gosh I have to take a picture,' he said. I did that too. Someone entered in the bathroom.

'Oh Fuck. What can we do now?'
'What kind of stupid question is this, Greg' I said. 'How the fuck can I possibly know what to do after swapping bodies?' I didn't know know where the tone came from, but I was only half displeased of having shushed Greg.
'Well, my mum is coming to pick me up in 10 minutes,' I said trying to convince me that everything was still normal. It was at that moment that Greg gave me his hoodie. 'Oh well, I suppose this one now belongs to you.' He instead picked my backpack. We had exchanged everything now.
It was awkward. And yet, I felt weirdly turned on.
We agreed to call each other later on. We knew our respective parents well enough to play along for one night. We had the same homework to do. It would not have been difficult to fake it for as long as we stayed in each other's feet.

But, man, what I did not realize was how much I loved being in Greg's body.
Once home, the first thing I did was posing in front of the mirror. I stood there for at least ten minutes.

My room was a mess, but who fucking cared with those arms and that flat stomach? I must have taken fifty pictures, excited as I was by my new frame. I then ran to the bathroom, took off my tank top and gasped at my own sight. I was shredded!

I leaned out, shouted that I had to take a shower and shut the door. I removed my pants and weighted my new round long penis. I then turned on the shower and starting masturbating over the tub. I moved my hand over my ripped body, enjoying it as if it were the body of a person I was making out with. I was making out with myself. And I often took pictures as a way to show that there was something outside of myself. I still could not believe I was there, in that body!

I was still in this euphoric state when Alex called me on the mobile. We chat for a long time, finally agreeing to see each other the morning after, at a café nearby. I nodded to everything, but I couldn't care less. The morning after I put on a pair of red jeans and a hoodie and went straight to school. Alex found me around lunchtime while I was talking to a girl.
'What the hell is wrong with you?' he said. 'Nothing Alex. I'm sorry I was late this morning.'

'You call me Alex?'

'And what else should I call you? Dumbass?' I grinned and shrugged away. 'See you later.'

I disappeared in the crowd of high school kids.

My Shorter Boss

I was a bit late for the meeting. Actually it was not that important. I could have arrived late. It was just drinks after all. But my hands were sweaty and I had to keep focusing on the road.

I was still a bit incredulous that Jamie agreed to grab a drink with me. I know that he wanted to ask me about a project. Yet, I still do not understand why, amongst all the people of our team, he picked me. Everyone would have liked to help Jamie, the new manager. He had arrived just a week ago and he already made a great impression on everyone. He threw a great party at his house. And we were all jealous by the way he dressed, which is way swankier than the clothes we wear here.

And this time was no less different. Besides a white tee, he put on some designer jeans, a Louis Vuitton belt and some D&G sneakers that must have costed him a fortune. He was standing there, outside the bar, smoking, a drink in his hands. After I parked, we started chatting.

Then he came to the point. Jamie wanted to know about the gay bars in the area. He wanted to get laid. That came as a bit of a surprise, but I should have guessed it. Actually the way he dressed explained it all. Sometimes we're just blind to the obvious. The revelation aroused me. I felt my cock getting harder and curving inwards. I lingered over his neck and his bulging, waxed chest. I even found his large watch incredibly sexy. It showed how successful he was. Was I getting a crush on my new boss? No. I didn't want him. I wanted to be him. I was getting a boner because an idea came to my head.

When he went to the bathroom I followed him. 'You need to pee too, Ralph?' he asked. 'No, not really.' I got closer to him. 'I came here because I'm going to be you.' And it did happen. No magic words, no stupid talismans. My sheer will was enough to make my brain enter his head and take possession of that body. It was smaller. His fingers, for instance, were tighter. And I could see everything at a lower lever. I glimpsed at myself in the mirror and was amazed by the transformation. Jamie, in my old body, was a bit dazed. 'What the hell did happen?' I was already out of the bathroom. I put on Jamie's leather jacket and left. 'Barman, my friend Ralph is paying. I gotta go.'
Twentyfive minutes later I was in his house, contemplating my crotch.

I unzipped my jeans and came on the floor. I undressed and went to the bathroom. I started flexing. I took a picture and I sent it to Ralph.

He didn't like it.

 Crazy Ralph. When he arrived the police was there, waiting for him. The day after I had to sack him. Apparently he made a mess at the bar too, he punched two people, and I had to go to apologize. It didn't matter. I was ecstatic and I adored my new position as a manager. I was very good at it actually and everyone seemed pleased with my decisions. It's just incredible that I never knew that before as I never had that opportunity.

Yet what I really adored was going to the gym. I liked the gym before too, but now it was a different thing. People were looking at me in a sexual way. I felt I could control everyone's mind. And I couldn't stop taking pictures of myself.

I did that at home, too, spending way too much time finding the right position and changing tank tops.
I started uploading them on Instagram. Vanity, of course, but isn't it totally justified in my case?

The Photographer

 Hi! I'm Juan and I'm a photographer. You probably cannot tell my profession by looking at this horrible, hastily made self-portrait. but there's only little you can do with your iphone.

My shoots are actually quite elaborate. It takes me weeks to organize them. I bring props, I set the light. It's a lengthy process. But I'm not here to talk about my work (which is no longer my work by the way. Now I spend more time in front of the camera). I'm here to talk about my life-changing transformation.

It all happened when I asked a model agency to send someone for a few pictures for a little gay magazine. I was left free to do whatever I wanted. I have no idea why, but I decided to set up a little altar with flowers and give to the whole thing a sort of blasphemous feel. A bit cliché perhaps, but it turned out to be the perfect setting.

The door rang and this semi-god walks in. 'I'm Felipe,' and he stretched his hand. A beginner, I thought, with none of the exaggerated swagger of models. Good.

Within five minutes we were shooting. Felipe was on his knees in front of this makeshift altar. I asked to take off his shirt.

  That body was divine. I couldn't stop taking my eyes off of it. I was using the camera to indulge in my observations, as a tool to possess it. I moved the light. 'Felipe, lower your head.' He duly obeyed.

I kept on shooting, from every corner I could. I asked him to remove his pants, to lay on the bed, to show me his genitals, to touch himself, to feign orgasm. His body - between that of a boy and of a runner - was a never-ending source of visual  pleasure. I put a flower on his mouth and kept on giving him orders. He did everything I said.

Then we returned to the little altar. He didn't know what to do.

And it is at the moment that I ordered him. 'Lick the crucifix.'

'What?'
'It's just a piece of plastic. C'mon. Don't pretend you believe in these things.'

Felipe hesitated. 'C'mon', I insisted, 'I don't have much time.'

Felipe took the crucifix in his hand and looked at the diminutive Christ.

'Are you afraid of curses? Of hell?' Felipe got tense. I drew nearer to him, menacingly. 

He parted his pulpy lips. I could see his piercing on his tongue, but his hands were shaking a little. He brought the crucifix closer to his chin. And then he started licking it. At the beginning slowly, but soon he increased the pace. After a few seconds he was passing his tongue over the arms of the cross, as if it were a lollipop. I moved right in front of him, unzipped my jeans: his lips were on my dick. He kissed it, licked it and sucked it, making my penis larger and larger.

After a minute he raised his head. I did not look happy.

'It was not good?' he asked.

'You know you've done something very bad? Something sacrilegious, I'd say.'

'What have I done?'

'You licked the body of God. You fucking atheist.'

'No! I'm not. I believe in God.'

'This is even worse! You made angels weep. You're surely going to hell, you fucking idiot.'

'What? Why are you saying that? You told me to lick the crucifix!

'And you do everything I say! Whom am I? What's in your brain, you petty bastard? You violated the body of Christ. Do you know what that means? What were you thinking?'

Felipe started spitting and coughing.

'Oh fuck me. I did. Yet, I did.'

He was shaking. And sobbing. 'Oh stupid me. Ungrateful me. God, will you forgive me?'

'You're doomed, Felipe.' I squatted. My face was three inches from his. I could see his tears as large as pearls. 'God will get his revenge.'

I whispered those words very slowly to make the menace more palpable.

And it is at that point, when he was most vulnerable, that I turned into him and he into me. His chin was quickly covered in hair and his lips grew thinner. I felt my shoulder blades expanding, as if I were about to grow wings, and my tongue got pierced as if hit by an invisible nail.

It was painful, but the pain was mixed at an incredible pleasure, as if I were remade out of clay.

Felipe looked horrified. He looked at his larger hands, at his flabbier stomach.

'It's God's revenge,' I said. He almost fainted. Within five minutes he was gone.

Some people are just stupid. They don't deserve what they have.

Gym Buddies

I had been hitting the gym for three months and I could start seeing the results.

My biceps were growing, my shoulder were getting wider, my shirts started feeling tight. I liked that.
Oh, by the way, this is me, Simon. Or, rather, this was me before I quit this body.

I know I'm not badly looking. I'm young, I've never had any problem at getting girls. I was chubby when little but I by then had shed all the fat away. As an accountant, I was making good money. I'm sure some people would have loved to step in my shoes.
It's just that I grew this obsession for my trainer Ryan.
This is me and Ryan.

I bumped into him by pure chance in the bar round the corner from our gym. This is also round the corner from my house, so it's a pretty handy spot and I spend quite a bit of time there.
Anyways, I don't know where my obsession for Ryan comes from. He's definitely better built than I am, but I wouldn't say that he's much better looking than I am. Rather, I think I'm jealous of his attitude. Ryan is one of those people who take hundreds of pictures of themselves in the gym, who flex when someone else is taking a picture of them. He's a douche. I know that. He's also not that intelligent, but it does not matter. I loved his bravery for getting all those tattoos, his attempts to sounding ghetto, his reversed cap, in other words, his carelessness. My wardrobe was filled with preppy clothes. With loafers. I could never have pulled those basketball shorts off.
And, OK, I loved his body. Every inch of it.
So on the very night I bumped into him in the bathroom, we started talking. He told me about the supplements he was taking, his favorite sports, but I couldn't concentrate. I kept on looking at bits of his body, here and there, as if I were hypnotised. He noticed. 'So, you're into me, uh?'
We went to the bathroom. We locked ourselves in one of those cubicles and I started sucking his dick furiously. He put his hand over my head 'Go on, good boy.' Flashes of memories of the gym started hitting me. The one time I saw him naked in the changing rooms, all the times he took off his t-shirt and revealed that muscular chest covered in tattoos. I was sucking harder and harder. Ryan was moaning louder and louder. 'Continue'. I did. Faster, to the point that I felt his penis shrunk in my mouth. The energy was there. I felt I was making his body electric and we were reaching a blackout.
'Yes, yes, yes'. Electroshock. Ryan fell seated on the loo. I had come too, in my pants. The pleasure was unbelievable and I felt that my body was still hit by shockwaves. I lifted my eyes and to my dismay I discovered that Ryan was no longer Ryan. He had turned into me. I stood up and saw my bulging, tatted biceps. My heart was bouncing with happiness. I opened the door of the cubicle and started admiring my new body in the mirror. Wow.
Ryan opened his eyes and stood up. 'What the hell happened bro?' He didn't seem particularly upset. He started looking at himself at the mirror, too. 'Cool, I'm you. And I can now start getting a whole new set of tattoos.' This is certainly the reaction I was not expecting, but who cares? We talked a bit, but I was in a hurry. I wanted to get out of the situation and go home to enjoy my life as Ryan. We exchanged clothes, keys, tips.
When I arrived in Ryan's home, I took a shower and changed.

In my newly fitted gray tee, I went to one of the gay bars of the city and made out with a gorgeous Italian before ending up with one of the bartenders. Oh my. What a night.
The morning after I went to the gym an hour before Ryan's first client and started working out. As he did, I took countless pictures of me.

I now understand why he took so many. It's hard to resist narcissism with a body like this one. I stuffed my phone with pictures of myself. I didn't care. I could do whatever I wanted. I saw Simon later that day. He came to see me. He had enough of being me and wanted to switch back. But I told him that I did not know how. We went to my old house and I made him notice that he now had a better apartment and a better car. He seemed only half pleased. He sucked my cock tenderly while weeping and despite the pleasure I had in receiving a blowjob from my old body, it didn't work. It didn't because I didn't want to happen. With him I pretended I was surprised each time we saw each other. But in reality I didn't care. There was a point where he started training wildly at the gym. He got a cool tattoo on his neck. Weirdly, the discovery did not affect me. It left me totally cold, as if that body had no links whatsoever with me. One days things got nasty as I could hear him speaking badly behind me. I thought of changing gym. But after that episode he stopped coming altogether. I've no idea where he is now. I hope for him that he has accepted the change and is going on with his life as I'm doing with mine, which is fucking awesome.

At the Conference

I saw Jürgen at the conference. He was standing with the other journalists at the back, watching the politicians vomiting their promises. I couldn't really follow the debate. I was struck by his manly beauty, by his body and movements.

I kept looking at him. But I resisted for only a few minutes. After that I had to run to the public toilets and masturbate. His face filled up my imagination so perfectly that it took me only a few seconds to come. I was not even disturbed by the noise around me. I cleaned myself and left.
I thought not to think too much about him even if it was not possible. At dinner, I couldn't focus on the conversation with Gina, a colleague from Boston that I sometimes see at these gatherings, because a couple of German journalists who were sitting behind me were talking about him. Unwillingly I ended up discovering more than I wanted. Besides his name, I discovered he was not a journalist but an assistant producer. Single, gay. It was like hearing people ticking boxes. Damn. He was perfect.
That night it took me forever to fall asleep. I had to jerk off a couple of times to the point that just a few drops of sperm were coming out of my penis. I saw more porn that I had done in a long time and, as it usually happens, I went to bed grumpy and dissatisfied with my life. Porn often makes me feel this way.
The morning after I see him in the park of the hotel of the conference. He was speaking on the phone, while the rest of the press was having breakfast inside. He was so sexy in his tight white shirt and jeans. I gained some confidence and went to him.

He was just finishing his phone call when he noticed me. 'Hey.' I greeted him and made up a story that I was from the New York Times and needed a German producer for a series of videos for our online journal. He was very interested. Apparently this is exactly what he needed as he wanted a change of scenario. 'Good,' I said. We walked across the park, kept talking about ambitious, unreal projects, moving away from the hotel. He kept following me, believing everything I said and nodding, like a puppy. I was acting as I usually do during interviews, simulating a confidence that I obviously don't have. When we were out of sight from everyone, hid by a thick walls of trunks, I put both of my hands on his chest.
'What the fuck, man.' He pushed me away angrily but it was too late. His fingers shortened, his frame shrunk. 'What the hell is happening?' He lifted his eyes and saw himself in front of him. I had metamorphosed in Jürgen and felt a rush of energy going through my brain and veins. It was like being drugged. 'What did you do?' 'Isn't it obvious?' I replied 'I took your body.' 'But this is not possible!'
How to explain the impossible to someone who is unfamiliar to body swapping? One can refer to the usual stock answers. It's a dream. We'll switch back in a moment. But I was bored with these things and I walked away. He ran after me and that's where he made his mistake. In front of dozens of international journalists, a middle-aged and anonymous American journalist from Baltimore was running after a young, stunning German producer. No one realised that the clothes had remained the same, but his tight fitting shirt made him look even more pathetic and gay. When we were close enough to the public I turned to him 'Enough Andy, stop following me. I said no.' People stopped eating. There was awkwardness in the air. Gina stood up and went to him. 'Andy, what's going on?' I instead went to the reception, pretended that I had lost my key and easily got into Jürgen's room. I had to pack quickly and leave to my new life, but not after having contemplated my new body. God. I felt good.

Blind Date

This is me. This is not really the picture I have uploaded on the gay dating website. I uploaded that of a striking dark-haired man dressed in preppy clothes. So It's normal that Justin fell for it. We chatted for a couple of days and we agreed to grab a drink on Thursday. When I showed up - I was deliberately late - he was obviously disappointed but nevertheless agreed to finish his pint. We chatted a bit and took a photograph.

He's pretty hot, isn't he? Great build, great lips, great face.And he had interesting things to say. We talked for a while about skying and the problems of gay dating. I was making stuff up all the time just to keep him entertained. In reality I would have liked to know about his sexual fantasies. But I pretended to be interested in his gym regime and in Arsenal. Yet, I must have behaved just fine as at some point he said 'You know what? You're a nice guy. Why don't we get another pint.' 'Sure', I replied, pretending that it was just a normal thing for me to have a night out with a stud like him. We got another round and then another one.

And a forth, which is when he started making less and less sense (and it made sense that he didn't as every time he went to the bathroom or for a cigarette I kept on pouring my beer in his glass, so he really drank 5 or 6). Half an hour later I was in his house. We didn't have sex as he was so drunk that he passed out on his bed in no time, but it does not matter, I was in.
So I did what I usually do in these situations. I entered his body by kissing him. I could feel his lifeless limbs and opaque thoughts. I took control over his brain even if his body was obviously made numb by alcohol. His mind, in my previous body, was still dazed. We both fell asleep.
The next morning I could finally enjoy my prize. Thank God I woke up before him.

I inspected the place, scrutinized his wardrobe, went to his kitchen and got a snack. What a fabulous pair of pecs he grew. What a stud I was. I returned to his bed and tried some clothes. I decided for a tight gray cableknit sweater that enhanced my new frame.

I felt SO good I could not resist and jerked off right there. People who says that body swaps have always complications never tried them. They're the best thing ever. I could retain some of his thoughts, which are obviously bodily things, but these adapted to my new thoughts to the point that I was probably no longer Justin, but a new human being with stunning looks.

What happened afterwards is routine. The guy woke up and was horrified. He sobbed, he fought but I didn't care. I called the police and they took him away. He's going to go through lot of problems. His bad. I feel no remorse. People are born with stunning faces, other people are born with the powers to steal them. It's all natural, isn't it? I didn't put much thinking into his miseries. Rather, I spent the day studying my whole new life. It went so quickly and after a few hours I hit the gym and was ready to go out with my new self.