These guys weren’t looking for love when they took over the bodies of two beautiful women, but something happened while they were enjoying themselves…
In ‘Coming Together’, a company is hiring, and the boss hops into the body of one of the female candidates to try her out. She’s athletic, sexy, and she feels so good from the inside. As he enjoys her body he begins to realize that they can help each other out. She can get a job, and he can get access to her striking body whenever he wants.
In ‘Hop Skip Jump’, a young man takes over the body of a woman who looks identical to his ex. He feels for her and wants to help her out, and in return all he wants is to pleasure himself in her body. But the longer he lives her life the more he finds himself falling for her.
Coming Together
I’d been staring at my phone for the past half hour, swiping constantly through the endless stream of images of her. I had an entire folder dedicated to her smile, another dedicated to the look she got when I took a surprise pic. One just for videos, one for the sexier shots, and a final one for pictures of us together. Those ones used to bring me to tears, but the tears were exhausted months ago. Now there was just gentle, gnawing sadness.
Glancing up from my phone, I surveyed the bar. It was happy hour on a warm Friday afternoon. The place had a nice vibe: good drafts, artisan cocktails, sunny courtyard. I sighed—the place was probably poised to be overrun by hipsters any day now—but for now there was still room to breathe. It was still a bar where I could get a table, sit and think… and try not to dwell on her.
“Another?” The barman nodded at my empty glass.
I nodded back. Taking a sip, I ran an eye over the crowd. It was still early, the bar wasn’t really buzzing yet, but that was fine with me; it meant I could sit and people-watch without being crushed by drunken strangers.
Unfortunately, there was little of interest to observe. Everyone here was a cliché I’d seen a million times before. The loud pack of guys with their eyes glued to the football. The group of hipsters locked in an endless conversation about the correct technique for muddling mint. The pair of girls drinking cocktails that were essentially fruit juice. The old man drinking alone at the back table. The couple ignoring each other and downing their buffalo wings. Then I heard the creak of the door and turned to the sound of heels clicking on the hardwood floor.
Inexplicably, she was standing there, the light at her back, illuminating her body and casting her face into shadows. It took me a moment to realize that it was a stranger and not actually Rachel. I gaped; the resemblance was almost eerie. As she walked into the light, my eyes flickered over her all-too-familiar features – her blonde hair scooped into a bun, her radiant skin, and her long shapely legs. She was wearing a demure dress—tailored with a circular print pattern that was almost prim—but the dress hugged her figure, highlighting the gentle curves of her breasts and the swell of her hips. And the color perfectly matched the deep blue of her eyes. She was a swan, a sliver of classical beauty in a sea of mundanity. As she arrived at the bar, I could feel my body beg for her. God, she even had Rachel’s upturned nose.
