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.