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What a curious evening it had been. With such emotional vicissitude, a rollercoaster steered by the ups and downs of switching back and again once more, I figured things couldn’t get much worse. That’s when the reality of my own life, persistently trudging on without me, and the pressure of all my schoolwork building up, incomplete and forgotten until that moment, burst in on me. Having just realized I had one of my most important Calculus assignments of the quarter due tomorrow, I frantically rang up Jake and planned to meet with him.
After panicking on the phone, I quickly convinced his parents to let me go retrieve a notebook “Devlin” had accidentally grabbed from my bookbag. I rushed over to my house. Upon discovering I’d completed even less of the assignment than I previously thought I had, I swiftly slid further on down the precipitous slope of stress. I tumbled helplessly. What an unseemly situation — to my careful mind an avalanche, really.
Jake pulled me back from the brink of despair and distress.
“Dev, listen, you need to calm your shit,” he said. I was a bit surprised when he comforted me with a hand on my shoulder.
He carried on, again projecting the weight of our circumstance, cautious and awkward, his brain now whirring with the possibilities of forcing a return to our more usual corporeal positions. I instantly detected the intent of his insinuation, so I helped him along with his suggestions. Sex, yes, all evidence pointed in that direction: we’d have to attempt fornication in order to instantiate a more permanent switch back to our own bodies. And how imperative was the rectification of our unfortunate predicament? Critically. But where, when? I divined the specifics and further solidified our plan. We’d leave our houses tomorrow morning, feign attending school, and meet up at my house after my parents left for work.
As far as I could imagine, our machinations were reasonably secure, so I could maybe calm down. I felt my heart rate slow infinitesimally. That’s when I locked eyes with Jake again. My own green eyes pierced me so forcibly. My heart picked up its pace once more. I was overcome so much that I grabbed him and squeezed him with all the force my borrowed body could exert. Then I pulled away, again met his sparkling, verdant gaze and kissed him as quickly as possible.
I made a swift escape.
That night I spent a good hour agonizing over the impossible misfortune of my life, lying on my back, just staring blankly at the looming, inky blackness of Jake’s bedroom. My vision blurred as my eyes lost focus and began to register that black nebula of static and fuzziness I’d seen a few times before. It was a haze of sorts, the kind induced by my persistent resistance to the blinking impetus. I ignored some stinging and continued to stare hard into the darkness. I marveled in realizing the experiential commonality of human existence: bodily reactions to the vast range of stimuli seem to be, based on my literal out of body evidence, rather standard.
I finally blinked. Then I closed my eyes and held them tightly shut. I gave way to the release. Stress seeped from the hulking, foreign mass of muscles my mind recognized as its own.
Again, as I’d experienced in my own body, my field of vision exploded with tiny bits of lights and swirling images akin to a photographic negative. This piqued my interest; so I repeatedly opened my eyes, stared into the abyss, then, after my vision crowded with that hazy blackness and I bent to the pressing urge to blink, I closed them once more. And I’d squeeze my eyes tightly shut to marvel at the images conjured on the back of my eyelids. Delusory delight: I pushed myself to both extremes.
Somewhere between my rapture and repeated experimentation, I drifted off to sleep.
Spiraling clouds dance across the sky then yield to the full moon, which pours its light upon the world. A bedroom blackened by the unsettled evening, and a set of curtains not quite closed: moonbeams invade and set a single sliver of the wall scintillating with the purity of their cherished white light.
He’s on top of him.
He’s lithe and moving so fluidly, the one on top.
The connection, the hitched breath, the freedom in the other’s moans and whimpers.
“Yes, more, Dev…” and it’s his voice, not mine…
“Fuck me harder, Dev! Harder!”
The cutting call to consciousness shredded my dream. I sat upright in Jake’s bed with a raging hard-on and a pounding pulse. At that moment I vocalized my surprise. “How strange…” I said to myself, floored by the kind of forward dominance I enacted in the sex dream. Let’s just say it was an entirely unprecedented phenomenon.
I turned and checked the clock. Wow, 4:00 AM already. That was all I needed: back casino siteleri to bed for a few measly hours. I tossed my body onto its side, grabbed my blankets, curled up in them to defend myself from the accosting neon greenness of the alarm clock and the chill creeping in from under my-ahem Jake’s bedroom door. In such desperate need of the extra shut-eye, I must’ve hoped myself to sleep.
I awoke at 6:37 AM with just enough time to shower and prepare for the day. I heated up the shower water while I brushed my teeth and mussed with Jake’s hair. As steam encroached at the edges of my reflection in the jock’s speckled bathroom mirror (I’d really rather not like to imagine what substance, or more likely substances, stained this poor looking-glass), I realized time pressed urgently.
I hopped into the shower and met a wall of warmth. I stopped to luxuriate in the sweet heat. The showerhead pounded a curative rain down on my stiff back while the steam the stream created lapped at my skin. I looked down to admire for the hundredth time Jake’s Adonis-abs and ample male endowment. Man, that cock was pretty much a phenomenon in and of itself. I trailed an eager hand down defined lines of abdominal musculature, over punctuating hipbones, and finally through a small, manicured bush of pubic hair before I reached his cock and palmed it with his strong hand. Like yeah, I was obviously already rock-hard.
Ugh, I forced myself to respect the time limit. Servicing his demanding dick would have to wait till later. Later…
A chill ran through me as I thought of my previous tamer, sexual encounters with Jake as he was trapped in my rightful body. My mind swirling with ideas, I gasped remembering the dream shards from last night’s fantasy still floating and flashing through my tattered psyche…
Then, in the dream, I reveled in the powerful, borrowed body that pinned the lithe frame with crushing confidence and obtrusive excitement. Disconcerted inhabitant of a vessel never requested, the forcible actions and fluid movements I executed in sexually objectifying the body I once occupied left me baffled and behind, caught off guard and cast aside by the incontestable force of attraction drawing me to my rightful habitation.
The intangible heat of the encounter had me sweating lightly as I flexed and gripped his sinuous body, hefted him from the bed, carried him towards the door, and threw him against the wall. He sat his weight on my hips, wrapped his naked legs around my back, grinded his cock against my lower stomach, and I slid my hands up the smooth skin of his back to press him and lock him in the tight embrace.
We were kissing; he stopped to catch breath. He stared me in the eyes, and I saw my own helpless eagerness reflected back in the green pool of the eyes through which I once beheld the world. The tenuous moment broke around me as he looked down at his cock then reached behind himself to grab mine. He squeezed mine and looked back up at me with mischief in his gaze.
I felt him as he lifted his ass and slid his thighs down my body. I shifted to help. His hand still on my cock, he guided himself down. Precum oozed from the head of my dick a second before it met flesh. The sensation of contact surely blinded us both; his chest heaved and my arms tensed, yet he pressed on, seeking alignment. We slipped as he gyrated against me.
I felt it: a change in texture there at the center, a softening of flesh replacing supple and sheer with tenderness. He tightened himself and his hole became clenched and flexed as the head of my cock — which he led to his own hole, the hole I once guarded and worked — threatened untimely entrance. He let go of my cock only then and shifted his weight to allow gravity’s increasingly heavy hand in our coupling.
Pasting a vulgar collection of saliva to the glove of precum he wore, he reached back down to slick my dick.
Still a mere centimeter past the extremity of his hole, resting reverent and breathless with only the smallest space between me and highest ecstasy, I sipped the heavy air that hung around us. With a swift little swoop I caught his lips and stole his control.
He sank down fast.
Tightness I’d never felt, the only kind of intimate heat that really mattered barreled me down. It blew me away.
I started shaking, my muscles straining, my whole being vibrating at a higher frequency…
I even heard a clear buzzing sound in my ear, this bverrrrt sound…once…now twice…oh shit, that detail was decidedly absent from my midnight fantasy.
My eyes flashed open. Jake’s iPhone, waddling itself to the edge of the sink, vibrated to announce an incoming call. Startled, I nearly dismantled the curtain as I stumbled out of the shower. I toweled off with haste, caught Jake’s phone before it dove from the sink to canlı casino the floor, and fumbled to answer it, barely managing the steamed up touch-screen with still damp digits and flicking the green accept button as the phone danced what had to be one of its last rings.
It had my little face there staring at me. “Devlin Currant Calling,” I noticed on the screen.
I answered, a bit breathless having been ripped so discourteously from my reverie, “Hello?”
“Where the fuck are you, Devlin,” my own voice spat at me. Jake, exasperated at my unpunctuality and ensuing deviation from our plans, no doubt, proceeded to berate me, so I assured him I’d join him quite soon.
I clicked off the phone.
Damn, I was in a rather flustering situation. That dream and reliving it by means of my mimetic imaginational faculties were distracting and enticing experiences. The uncomfortable stiffness I awoke with and the still raging hard-on I flaunted there in that steam-crowded bathroom terrified me.
The intensity mounted there in that hotbox. My empty stomach and personal heat, sexual or otherwise, conspired to snatch my breath and leave me lightheaded.
I opened the door and spilled into the bedroom with the steam.
I had zero time, a negative unit of time, really.
I rushed into Jake’s closet, which I’d reorganized. But I couldn’t really find anything and needed to cut the bullshit and collect myself. So I haphazardly dressed myself in Jake’s standard and undemanding wardrobe. A pair of sweats and a t-shirt sound good, Jake’s body? What was that? No complaint? I thought as much.
And I hadn’t the time to worry.
So I woke up at the end of a wet dream about Devlin.
Yeah, I came in Dev’s tiny briefs while I dreamt of returning to my own body (fucking finally) and fucking the shit out of Devlin’s light and tiny, so sexy body.
What the fuck is wrong with this kid’s hormones? I couldn’t believe this shit. I leapt down from his bed and waddled to the bedroom door; then I hopped out into the hallway and rushed to the bathroom.
Flick. The light on. Click. The door locked. Strip. My briefs down around my ankles, I quickly cleaned myself up as Devlin’s still stiff dick stared up at me, angry for disturbing it.
Don’t look at me like that, Dev’s dick! Blame your body! I was beside myself! Last time I had a wet dream in my own body had to have been three or four years ago. The fuck is wrong with this sorry fuck’s hormones? I stopped for a second to wonder if this was a regular occurrence for Devlin. Poor helpless, lil, horndog. I looked up to inspect the cutie’s reflection in the mirror. I could get used to the view, I thought, before quickly realizing that enjoying the boy’s gangly and gorgeous body meant I was still without a shimmer of hope for returning to my own powerful bod. God, I miss my muscles. Yeah, I know, the jock digs himself and his prized appearance. Pretty typical and unimaginative revelation there — who’s writing this shit anyway — but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t true. I missed my body for physical reasons, but I also enjoyed this new body for physical reasons. Let’s just say I wasn’t miserable here in Devlin’s body, in Devlin’s home, in Devlin’s life. It was kind of like a vacation from my uniquely experienced pressures and obligations. Not having any investment in Devlin’s life, I was at ease to be myself. There was no pretense. I wasn’t about to crack open a dictionary to try and fool his oblivious friends and his indifferent family.
That said, I wasn’t about to stop checking myself out in the mirror either. The kid’s gorgeous, plain and simple.
“Wow,” I said out loud as Devlin’s eyes flashed, emerald and bright as the gem.
A bang on the door followed quickly by a screeching, “Deeeeev! I gotta pee! Hurry up!”
Ugh, his brat sister. “Fucking A, fine!” I sighed, swiped a towel from the rack on the back of the door, wrapped the unbelievably fluffy thing around my waist, and opened the bathroom door. “All yours, sis.”
She swept past me, busting me just below the ribs with her shoulder. Lil midget bitch! I thought.
Before I could retaliate she shrieked (big surprise, right?) and pointed at the tiled floor. “EWWWWWWWW! DEV!”
What the fuck…? OH SHIT! I’d left Dev’s cum-filled panties there next to the sink!
“Bahahaha!” I bent over in laughter.
“EW EW EW EW! SO GROSS, DEV!”
“Jesus, calm your tits!” I pulled it together: a few more chuckles for good measure, an accomplished strut into the bathroom. Dev’s sister (yeah, I didn’t really know her name at this point) backed away from me like I had the plague or something. I really should invest more time in fucking with his sister. She’s such a sucker! Her overreaction was priceless.
I picked up the panties, kaçak casino readjusted my towel, and strode out of the bathroom.
“Gross boy!” the tween shouted at me as she hung out into the hall from the doorframe. She swung back into the bathroom and slammed the door. I couldn’t help but laugh again.
I made my way back down the hall to Dev’s room. I locked the door behind me, dropped my towel, and launched myself, naked, onto Devlin’s bed.
Staring at the ceiling, I sighed. Yup, good stuff. Man, I love messing with people. Such a harmless thought, right? Wrong. A wave of guilt overcame me. Fuck, I used to seriously fuck with Dev, didn’t I? I remembered my friends tossing around his tiny body, the one I now called temporary home as I stretched my arms, placed my hands behind me head, and flexed my smooth, flat stomach. I really should’ve stood up for the guy, I thought to myself, but I realized I mostly kept hands off because I was so attracted to the twink. He was exactly my type! The floppy hair, the overwhelmingly beautiful eyes, the light complexion and smooth skin, the thin and lanky body, the…everything. The everything. I was obsessed with his everything. That’s why this body switch was so strange to me! Anyway, I also really liked the kid for more than his looks. He was so defensive when cornered, so witty in a pinch! I’d received quite the tongue-lashing from him in the past (no, not the good sexual kind of tongue-lashing) and was powerless to rebut him! He was quick and, ugh, so brilliant. I had a serious case of admiration for this guy.
I turned and looked at the alarm clock. Having awoken early from such a crazy dream with such sticky side effects in my waking reality, I turned off the thing before it had a chance to buzz that morning. Anyway, it was like quarter till 7. Devlin told me both him parents would have left for work before 6:30 and that they wouldn’t know if I skipped school. Excellent hands-off parenting. Definitely my style.
So, lying there, I got to thinking about Devlin in my body. What was that weird magnetic pull that seemed to draw us together every time we were within a 20-foot radius of each other? I wondered if it was potentially the experience of erotic self-love that I was drawn to my own body now that I inhabited a different one. Am I really that narcissistic??? Yeah probably.
In any event, I couldn’t even think about Devlin in my body and me in his making out like we did yesterday. The switch back was too good to be true, but it made me realize how much I wanted to dominate him back in our rightful positions and roles. That was something I couldn’t cope with, my sexual confusion, my uncertainty. Watching porn and jerking it, or even being with girls the few times that happened really had both me convinced I was a born top. I was good at fucking girls when I could muster the mental energy to actively imagine a guy riding my cock. Lucky my girlfriend, or I guess ex-girlfriend, had smallish boobs. When big ones bounce around in your face, it’s kind of hard to imagine them away. And watching porn I just always pictured myself as the dominant and hunky (did I mention how attractive and masculine I was) top.
Anyway, so I got to imagining, and images from my dream flashed into my mind’s eye: Devlin bobbing up and down on my cock, me standing and railing him from behind as he pushed back on my dick, his cock raging hard as I delivered a good pounding to his prostate.
My cock moved on its own (you know, when your cock just kind of jumps in excitement?). I heard the front door slam downstairs and hopped up to look out the window and catch a glimpse of Devlin’s sister running to catch the bus. She made it, unfortunately. Would’ve loved to see the brat pitch another fit, hehe, I thought.
Some time must’ve passed, because when I came back to Dev’s bed and glanced at the clock it read 7:05. The fucker’s late.
I kicked around some of the clothes I’d scattered around the kid’s room and never bothered to pick up. Which fucking skinny jeans did I squeeze myself into yesterday? I found the ones and fished through the pockets for Devlin’s phone. Gotta call the lil bastard.
I looked around the room to see the iPhone sitting on the edge of his dresser. I snatched that shit.
I dialed my own number without bothering to search his contacts, because fuck that.
“Hello?” I heard me say on the other line. Still fucking annoying, ugh.
“Where the fuck are you, Devlin?” I asked.
“Oh, sorry! I suppose I neglected to monitor the time as I showered. I’ll be on my—”
“Ugh, Devlin, just get your shit together and get over here! This is some important bullshit going down today and we need to get the ball rolling. Who knows how much time we’ll have before your parents come home!”
“Um, I do? They return home sharply at 5 PM each day, and they travel to the city together, so we can be fairly certain of our time limit for today’s acti—”
I just had to cut him off again. “Just hurry up, dipshit!”
I hung up on the fucker.
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