Shake Up - Part 2

Several months had passed since the initial event, but it hadn't left my mind for a second. How was that possible? Why her? I couldn't understand it. And, strangely enough, the more I thought about what it was like to inhabit her body, the more it turned me on. I had jacked off many times in secret since then, fantasizing about having my way with Abigail. Not like Miranda would ever find out.

On this day, I was home sick. Miranda was at work. I looked out at the apartment across the way and saw Abigail. What was she doing at home today? I watched her carefully as she sat by herself at the kitchen table. Her stone-faced expression twisted into a mischievous smirk, as she closed her eyes and slowly lifted her head to face me. When she opened her eyes, I felt a familiar jolt and a bang. Then I was sitting at her table. The man in the window –me– closed his eyes and grinned, getting up slowly and making sure to avoid making eye contact. He walked off into my and Miranda's bedroom. Then I was alone. I was Abigail again. Holy shit.

I staggered to my feet, feeling the limbs of my new body moving in an alien fashion. Every part of me was a different length and weight. I was ecstatic and nervous. My heart was pounding through my chest. I felt sick to my stomach. I held back Abigail's long locks of hair and emptied her stomach contents into the kitchen sink. I stared at her lunch swirling down the drain, contemplating how strange it was that I was throwing up someone else's lunch.

I stumbled out of the galley kitchen and tried the first couple doors. One led to the couple's bathroom. I guided my attention to the mirror above the sink and froze when I saw myself. "Abigail," I croaked under my breath. My voice was much higher than I was used to.

I looked down at my body. I glanced out the bathroom door as a precaution but was met with her silent apartment. I was dressed in clothes I had certainly not adorned myself. Her ...boobs were there, sitting on my chest. Sure, I had fantasized about this moment many times, but experiencing this for real was completely baffling. I don't know why, but I thought being a woman would feel different somehow. But I felt normal. Now that I stood there with a wonderful set of tits and curves for days, I couldn't help but feel like my new reality was somehow completely mundane. Like, I was a woman now. So fucking what?

I grabbed my tits. They felt good. They made me feel sexy. Heck, I was fucking hot. I pried her top carefully down her chest, exploring her glorious cleavage. Her boyfriend or husband or whatever was a lucky man. Miranda would kill me if she ever found out about this! My hands hugged my new padded waist and contoured Abigail's perfect ass. As if.

I made my way into the couple's bedroom. They've probably fucked a lot of times on that bed. I pictured what Abigail would look like naked, getting pounded by her man. I rubbed her mound, picturing my body eagerly welcoming a dick. This new face of mine smiling, because it feels so good. There I was, in the body of this straight woman, in her own bedroom. I felt myself breaking into a smile.

I spent the next couple hours masturbating in her bed and trying on half her closet. I check the time. It was getting late, and Miranda would be back from work soon. Not to mention Abigail's mystery man. I rushed to the kitchen window and looked for my body. Abigail must've had the same thought, since she was sitting ready, looking in my direction. Before I knew it, I was back home.