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...]

Buff

The awesome thing about being buff is the boost you give to your self-confidence. With those pecs and biceps and abs you don't care about anything anymore. It feels normal to go outside shirtless, it's OK to flirt with the bartender. You feel invincible, that you can do anything and you no longer care about other people's judgment. That's at least what I felt since I got this body.

I got three days ago and there's no way I'm going to give it back. I'm sorry for my bro Ryan, but he has to deal with it. Shit just happens sometimes. He didn't end up in a terrible body after all. I was fine with my body. I got quite a few guys and, to say the truth, my boyfriends were better looking than Ryan's. But that's probably because Ryan never needed boyfriend and I'm certainly not going to stop sleeping around.

Anyways, it all started three days ago, I was saying. Ryan and I went out with our friend Stacy, who had just been fired. It sucks, I know. We were having drinks and we were fooling around. W

We commented on a couple of funny youtube videos in the darkness of the bar and did all we could to cheer her up. We danced a little. We made fool of ourselves. Ryan got a superlong straw just to make her laugh. We asked her countless questions. It only half worked. 'I'm going home, guys. Thanks for the drinks and for your awesome support.' We begged to stay a little longer. It was only 9pm after all. There was nothing to do. And that's at that point that Ryan said. Wait: we need you to take a picture of us. It's for this face-swap app which I've just downloaded and it's totally cool. She nodded and took a snapshop of us.

Ryan then opened the app and showed how he could flip our faces and move his on my body and viceversa. The result was more pathetic than funny.

'Thanks for trying Ryan, but I'm OK. Rally.' She kissed him on the cheek and left the bar. He was stirring nervously his drink with the straw. I looked at him.
'What's this button?' I asked while pointing to this flashy red on the display of his phone. It said 'transform'. 'I've no idea,' he said intrigued and he clicked. Soon I felt an unbearable pressure on my face, as if I were parachuting or diving, which lasted just a moment. I turned around, no one seemed to have noticed a thing. We life in the bar went smoothly, as just a minute before. I turned my face and I got slapped.
'What the hell!'
While opening my eyes I got confused. In front of me there was my body, in my blue V-neck, with my drink. I looked at my hands. I was holding this drink with this ridiculously long straw. And I had these bulging pecs. I raised my head. We had switched bodies. Oh geez.
We went to the bathroom and talked animately for a while. I couldn't stop looking at myself in the mirror. Holy shit. I had the best body I had ever seen. 'Ryan, can you stop flexing? It's really not cool. I'm talking.' 'I'm sorry bro,' I said 'but it feels good. It feels SO good.' I was smiling in a way that must have looked rude. 'It's not funny. We need to find a way out of this.'
We used the app again, but searched for solutions online. Nothing.
While he was looking at websites, I lifted my eyes and met those of this handsome guy who started at me intently. I rubbed my hand over my chest and he did the same over his crotch. Gosh, it was sexy.
'Can you stop doing that? We need to find a solution.' 'Oh sure. Sorry.'
After two hours we still had not found anything. We went home together. As I was going to uni, it was not that I had to wake up early or anything and I could have spent the night at Ryan's. Oh well, that was now my place actually.

After half an hour, he knocked at the bathroom door. 'Ryan, what the hell are you doing?'
What do you think I was doing? I was doing what every other guy would have done in my shoes: I kept contemplating myself at the mirror and jerking off. 'One moment. I said.'

'What are you doing?' 'Nothing' I said. 'Where you masturbating.' 'No!' 'Oh my god. Yes, you did!' 'No. I didn't' What the hell! He became hysterical. He wanted to see my penis as he was sure that I had jerked off. He went on for 10 minutes, after which I agreed to take off my pants.
'I knew that!' he cried with a victorious smile. 'I knew that!' he repeated to my face, which I took and lowered. 'It's OK, babe, I said. You won.' and, while keeping lowering his head: 'Now, suck.'
at first he hesitated but then he did. He started sucking and sucking.
Oh my. It felt good. I kept pushing his head against my crotch. I wanted to reach the back of his mouth with my cock. I wanted to hit the back wall of his larying with my penis, I wanted to wreck his vocal chords. I wanted him to stop talking. I started pushing his head harder and faster.
'Wait Ryan! Not so fast. I'm suffocating.' I didn't care. Lord, it felt good. 'Wai--- Ry---wha----ck'
I came in his throat, splashing his mouth and teeth. Wow. It felt good.
I released my grip. He stood up. 'What the hell Ryan, did you want to kill me?' He started yelling and went on for a good ten minutes, after which someone knocked at the door.
'Fuck'. It was the neighbour. 'I'm sorry. I'm trying to sleep, Ryan. Could you please stop doing whatever you're doing?' 'Oh. I'm terribly sorry. I didn't noticed the time, but do not worry my friend is leaving.' 'What?' I grabbed his stuff and put him at the door. After three minutes I locked the door behind me. He kept on knocking, complaining. I just put my headphones on and started listening to music. After fifteen minutes he was gone. I sat at my computer and started looking if there was someone only ready for a hookup.

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.'