A&F - Part 1

I'm proud of Adam. He worked out for six months, he didn't touch a drop of beer and got in. It's not the easiest thing in the world to become a model at Abercrombie&Fitch, but he did it and that was why went out to celebrate.

I got him a bottle of Moet. 'Finally, you can drink alcohol again.' We toasted.
'C'mon bro, there's no reason to unbutton your shirt' I mocked him 'you'll now have to show your chest all the time.' He laughed while finishing his glass. 'It's funny you say that, but you know what? I can't button this shirt anymore.' 'What?' Yeah. I grew so much in the last few months that my shirts do not fit me anymore. I suppose it's good I'm in retailing now.' I smiled, but while I was swallowing the last drop of champagne I peered at this chest through the stem and foot of the glass. It was big. It was enormous. He did work hard, I could see that. And I was not the only one noticing. The girls in the room were turning their heads and, in my grey sweater, I started feeling like a grandpa. 'Do you want another one?' I asked him. 'No, thanks. I should really get going. Tomorrow's my first day and I shouldn't compromise my work with more wine.' We left. More heads turned.

That night, while I was masturbating in the bathroom in my pj, I thought of Adam. I thought how it would be to turn into him. I often think of body swaps when I'm jerking off or when I'm having sex. There's nothing else that is more successful at turning me on. Perhaps it's just insecurity. I don't put too much thinking in it, but it just works like magic. Over the years I have even trained my head so that my fantasies have become more and more convincing. I can add quite a bit of detail and I have perfected my favorite scenarios. That one was a simple one. I was just imagining of being where I was, in the bathroom, and slowly turning into him. I pictured my chest growing, my viewpoint raising, my hair getting shorter. I imagined my voice growing deeper, full of testosterone. I fancied getting rid of all my boring clothes and wear a pair of A&F slippers and one of those checkered shirts. They're quite tacky actually, but as Adam I would not mind tackiness. I would be so thankful for the transformation that I would embrace the whole aesthetics in full. I swore that I would have been as dull as required. I just wanted his body.

I came. A streamer of sperm popped through my penis and fluttered in the air. For a moment I was in ecstasy. All my muscles were contracted. I still felt like Adam and my right hand left my penis to touch my chest, which I still thought bulging. I love that weird sensation after you come when you're suspended between fantasy and reality. The thing is that my pecs were bulging. I opened my eyes and I was Adam. Holy crap! It did happen! Holy fucking crap! I could not believe it. I had a six pack, I had those juicy arms and those round, ripped shoulders. I truly could not believe it.

I took my phone. I was about to call him. But then I thought why should I? Instead, I took a photo. Actually, I took hundreds of photos. I went to bed at 5 that morning after jerking off five, six times and posting countless pictures of me on the internet in new profiles that I set up every ten minutes.

The morning, after merely three hours of sleep, I felt like shit. I woke up with those huge puffy eyes and put on the first t-shirt I could find and which nicely squeezed my muscular body. Even if tired, I was still pretty pleased with my new body.

But I had to go. I ran to the store on Madison Avenue and got a full training and my uniform. 'We'll deduct it from your salary,' told me this handsome guy with a half smile. A red checkered shirt, a pair of denim and those slippers that I found so tacky. Exactly what I wanted. I slipped into those and felt invincible, like a member of a party of untouchables. After a couple of hours I was at the entrance, taking pictures with little girls. They were all so excited to touch one of the untouchables and I loved their flattery. I even squeezed them next to me, squeezing my chest to make them feel what a real man feels like.

I blinked, I grinned. I was flirtatious. I flirted with everyone, mothers and daughters, boys and girls, and I was good at it. I got winked back. I got smiled back. A gorgeous black man turned his head to check me out. Good. It felt good. I chatted with another guy so sexy that  I would have licked his dick right there in front of everyone. The thought of it was so overwhelming that when I went to the bathroom I jerked off in seconds. I had to release all the horniness I was accumulating on that dreamy day by seeing those fit bodies, those dazzling white smiles, those checkered shirts, all identical. I cum a second time and for the first time I was thinking about the body I was in. I was thinking to be Adam. Were my fantasies finally matching the reality? Did I overcome my own insecurity?
I started wondering, but what I should have really wondered about was the power of my imagination, because the real Adam was waiting for me in front of the bathroom. [to be continued...]