Chapter 2: Chapter 2

That should have been the end of it. They should have explored other options, or turned on the television. But they both stood rooted to the spot, and continued to stare across the lawn. Peter watched intently as Sara hurried to get another load from her car. Her breasts bounced rhythmically as she hurried her steps. It was a warm summer afternoon, and she paused briefly before lifting anything to wipe her brow with her short sleeve. 

Mark did something similar on one of his trips, but Christine watched, entranced, as the young man lifted the whole front of his shirt to wipe the sweat. She saw the outline of abs. Young, eighteen year old abs. She unconsciously licked her lips. 

After what could have been a few minutes or a few hours of spying on their new neighbors, Peter suggested, “Maybe…maybe we try it anyway.”

Christine tried to swat him, but couldn’t quite reach without looking away, which she didn’t want to do. “No! We’re not going to go there.”

“In all our years, we have done a lot of kinky stuff. But we’ve sure never done that before. And you’re the one who suggested we try something new.”

Christine shook her head, not that her husband noticed, as his eyes were devouring Sara’s legs at the time. “I didn’t mean that.”

They kept watching, then Peter put out another proposition. “What if we take turns hopping them?”

“Right now? While they’re all hot and sweaty?” Christine said this like it was a bad thing. But she wouldn’t at all mind running her hands all over the front of Mark’s perspiring body. And she wouldn’t stop with her hands. 

“No, of course not. We’d pick another time when they don’t have so much going on.”

Christine honestly thought about it, but then shook her head. “No. It’s more fun to bodyhop as a couple. And no one feels left out that way.” 

“Well then let’s just hop them both and we can…we can just look at them while we make them masturbate.”

Christine didn’t like that Peter’s propositions kept turning her on. Regardless, she stuck to her guns. “I said no, Peter. We’ll find someone else. Someone that isn’t related.”

“I could go hop Mark tonight and-”

“You’re not listening, Peter. Maybe that’s part of our problem.”

“I thought our problem was we stopped having sex.”

“And that’s all my fault, is it? What about you? You’re always too tired after coming home. You don’t want to go anywhere or do anything. It’s pretty difficult to try something new if you won’t put forth some effort!”

Peter pointed across the street and his voice grew louder. “I’m not too tired for this right here! It’s something we’ve never done, and I’m more than willing to try it!”

“Because it’s something only the most degenerate bodyhoppers do! Remember? We always thought it was disgusting.”

“I mean, almost all bodyhoppers would qualify as degenerate then. All of them we’ve run into seem to have a incest story or two. Maybe we shouldn’t knock it before we try it.”

Christine gasped. “The last time a bodyhopper brought it up, you said the very idea was appalling.”

“I was just saying what I thought you wanted to hear.” He regretted the words as soon as they tumbled out of his mouth.

Christine shot him a withering look. “Well, I guess I thought you were better than that. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll retire early tonight.” She swept from the room, taking the rest of the bottle of wine with her.

“So does this mean we’re not having…” He left the rest of the question hang in the air.

It didn’t hang there long. “Not tonight!” she yelled. “I’m no longer in the mood.”

He almost yelled after her that this wouldn’t be any different than any other night. Almost. 

Both tossed and turned restlessly in bed. Both found their thoughts returning to the new neighbors and the tempting possibilities there. One kept trying to put it out of her mind. When Christine bodyhopped, she loved to become the other person as much as possible. To talk like they talked, to act like they acted, and fuck like they fucked. To take on that role of a mother and then…it was out of the question. Even if the son was the sexiest thing she’d seen in some time.  

Mark, on the other hand, wasn’t trying to convince himself not to. He was thinking of a way to push them both into uncharted waters without ending their marriage. And he had an idea.

The next morning, Christine woke up first. She looked over at her snoring husband for half a minute, decided she still loved him, and lightly kissed his cheek. That was as far as she’d go in way of an apology right that second. He stirred and reached for her, but she backed away and got out of bed. As she put on her light pink robe, she decided she’d also go as far as to make sure Peter’s eggs weren’t burnt this morning. 

The second Peter heard his wife’s footsteps on the stairs, his eyes popped open. He looked at his alarm clock. He had time. He quietly got out of bed and cracked open a bedroom window. He closed his eyes and concentrated. It had been awhile since he took on an incorporeal form. It took him longer than usual, but that was like everything else he did at his age. Finally, after several seconds, his body seemed to evaporate and become a transparent mist. He floated out the window, and swirled across the street towards their new neighbors’ house. He shot through the front door keyhole and began gliding room to room. In an upstairs bedroom, he came upon Mark, still asleep in bed with his mouth slightly open. The mist rushed towards Mark’s mouth, and a second later, Mark’s body twitched. He coughed once, then his eyes flew open and he sat up. 

It felt so good to be in a young body again. Peter studied the room through Mark’s eyes. He saw a box marked clothes. He rushed to open it. He found a new shirt, but no pants. He saw yesterday’s on the floor, and quickly put them on. He raced downstairs and was headed towards the door, when a familiar voice called, “Mark?”

Peter halted in his tracks, and turned Mark’s head towards the sound. It was the very cute neighbor, Sara. Or more appropriately at the moment, Mom. “Yeah, Mom?”

She looked at him with cheerful curiosity. “I thought you’d probably sleep til noon. What got you up so early?”

Peter tried to keep from staring directly at Sara’s chest, but it was difficult. Her hair still looked bedraggled, but it didn’t take away from her sex appeal at all. He realized too late that he was getting an erection and turned away from her.  “I don’t know. Just felt like an early breakfast.”

“So grab some cereal and pull up a chair next to your mom.”

“I, uh, felt like eggs this morning,” Mark said with a hand on the door.

“We don’t have any eggs yet. I haven’t gotten a chance to go to the store.”

Mark smiled. “I know. I was going to go borrow some from our new neighbors.”

Sara frowned. “Okay, tell them I said hello.”

“Most definitely,” Mark agreed as he slid out the door.

Christine had just dropped the second egg in the sizzling pan when the doorbell rang. She was in a robe, but was in no state to be opening the front door. She thought about yelling for her husband, but by the time he put clothes on and stumbled downstairs, whoever it was would be long gone. She sighed and headed towards the door. She wondered who it could be? Were they expecting a package? It still seemed too early for that. 

She made sure the robe was tight around her, and opened the door. There stood the new neighbor boy, wearing yesterday’s jeans and a green shirt with a band’s name she’d never heard of. He was smiling politely at her, but didn’t say anything, so she took the initiative. “Yes, Mark was it?” As if she didn’t know and hadn’t thought about running her tongue up and down his body. Can I help you?”

“Oh, uh. Sorry for coming over so early, ma’am. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, no. I was making breakfast. Oh shoot, I’ve got to get back to my eggs. Come in, come in.”

“Thanks,” he said as he followed her inside and shut the door. “That’s actually why I’m here. To see if I could borrow some eggs.”

Christine was glad it was something simple. “Of course. Yes, yes. Help yourself to as many as you need in the fridge,” she said as she pointed to the refrigerator on her right.

The kitchen had an island in the middle for prepping food, storage, and trash. Mark could have gone around the island on the right, directly to the fridge. But instead, he went to the left, which put him in very close proximity to Christine. 

She didn’t notice this until he was brushing past her. He was so close she could smell his musk. He obviously hadn’t showered since yesterday’s move, but it wasn’t altogether unpleasant. 

“Excuse me,” he said as he passed. He put his hand briefly on her lower back. The area where he touched radiated warmth. 

As he opened the refrigerator door, she let out the breath that had gotten lodged in her throat and asked shakily, “So, all moved in?”

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“Yup,” he said as he began looking through the contents of the fridge.

Christine watched him closely. She couldn’t see his face, but could make out his backside. She’d bet anything that he had a very tight, good looking butt. “So what brought you and your mom to our town?”

“Well, I got accepted to the local college here, which I’ll be starting in the fall. And my mom got a transfer from her bank management job to a branch here, so I’ll still be able to live at home and help her however she needs.” He took out the egg carton and shut the door.

She looked away from his direction quickly. Had he seen her perving on him? Was he going to take the rest of the eggs? “Well, it sounds like you’re a very good son. I hope that, oh shoot!” she yelped. “Not again!”

“What’s wrong?” Mark asked concernedly.

Christine gave a sad chuckle as she looked at her pan. “Oh nothing. Just ruined my husband’s eggs for the second day in a row.”

And then she felt strong arms wrap around her waist. She felt something hard poke against her behind. Mark’s hot breath tickled her ear, as he said, “I know of a way you could make it up to him.”

For a moment she was too stunned to speak. Her body was responding, as it felt his strong arms around her, and a hardness that made her wet. But she knew the truth, and with a sharp intake of breath, she exclaimed, “Peter! What are you doing in the neighbor boy?”

“Why don’t you turn around and find out.” He loosened his grip as she spun about.

As she did, she concentrated and so she could see the face of her bodyhopping husband. It made it easier for her to yell at him that way. “Peter, what have you done? I thought we agreed that the new neighbors were off limits!”

“I just wanted to show you what you’re missing darling,” her husband’s voice said. And then he looked down.

Christine followed his gaze, and saw that her husband had seen fit to take Mark’s dick out of his pants. It was thick and long. She hadn’t seen one that nice for a long time. She didn’t realize it, but her breath had quickened, and one hand was reaching out to touch it. At the last second, she stopped. “We…we can’t.”

“Sure you can. You clearly like this body. It’s right here in front of you. You can touch it all you want. Here.”

A strong hand grabbed Christine’s and wrapped her palm around Mark’s cock. She gave it an instinctive squeeze, and got to hear Mark’s voice moan appreciatively. She stroked it once, then twice. She felt him tug at the knot in her robe. It parted for him, and she felt a strong hand paw at her sagging breasts. He leaned in close, his lips almost to hers.

Then all at once he pulled back. His rigid penis withdrew from her hand. As it went, she reached out for it, but her husband was already tucking it back into Mark’s jeans.

“Thanks for the eggs,” Marks’ voice said as he retrieved them from the counter. 

“Peter! Are you going to leave me in this state?” she asked angrily.

“I’m not really in the mood,” Peter with a wink and his voice. Then he shut the door. 

Right when Mark stepped back inside his own house, mist leaked out of him. A few seconds later, he wondered why he was standing in their entryway, sporting an erection and holding a carton of eggs. He had a vague recollection of getting them from the neighbors, but everything else was like a dream that he could not recall. 

A few minutes later, Peter came downstairs from their bedroom, fully dressed and ready to go to work.

“Here’s your eggs!” Christine snapped as she pointed to a plate’s white and yellow rubbery contents. 

Peter ignored the eggs. He pulled his wife into an embrace, and kissed her passionately. She was still angry at him, and definitely sexually frustrated, but she kissed him back anyway. 

“C’mon. That was kind of fun, right?” Peter teased. “And no one got hurt, did they?”

“Oh, someone will get hurt if you do that again.”

“So you don’t want to see Mark’s cock again? Don’t want to hold it in your hand? Don’t want it inside of you?”

Christine narrowed her eyes and huffed. The problem was, that’s exactly what she wanted, but she didn’t want her husband to think that he’d gotten to her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Now eat your eggs.”

Peter did eat the overdone eggs. And that night, they made love in their own bodies for the first time in many weeks.

“Peter, Peter,” Christine said insistently the next morning to her slumbering husband. 

“Yes. What?”

“I’m determined to fix your eggs right this morning, but someone took them all yesterday. Can you go get some?”

Peter stretched and yawned, then said, “I suppose I can make a run to the store before work.”

“No, just go across the street and ask for some of ours back. You took the whole carton, remember? There were still seven in there. I just need two.”

“Okay, okay. Let me get dressed.” 

“Thank you. And be quick so we’re not late for work.”

Had his brain fully cleared, he might have asked why his wife didn’t go ask. He also might have wondered why his wife wasn’t in the kitchen when he came downstairs. The fact was, she wasn’t in the house at all anymore. As soon as she left their bedroom, she hung up her bathrobe in the bathroom, and dissolved into a transparent mist. She zoomed out of the house, to the neighbor’s front door, through the keyhole, and began looking for her quarry. Christine found her coming out of the shower. Perfect. 

As the doorbell rang, Christine looked at her newly acquired naked and dripping wet body in the foggy mirror. “I can’t answer the door like this, or I’ll give him a heart attack.” She wrapped a large towel around herself, and headed towards the door. She opened it and put on one of Sara’s huge smiles and said to the man gaping at her, “Howdy neighbor.”

Peter’s eyes were all over her. He couldn’t stop himself. She was covered, yes, but there was still so much flesh. Water still dripped from her hair, her legs. His mouth remembered that there was a job to do. “Eggs,” he rasped.

“You need some eggs. Well come on in,” she said, and gestured for him to come inside. “I wouldn’t want to give any more neighbors a free show. Just imagine what would happen if this towel suddenly decided to fall off.”

And then Peter watched as it did just that. The towel hit the tile floor, and there stood Sara with a very embarrassed look on her face. 

“Oh my! I’m so sorry!”

She bent quickly to get it, and Peter did the same. His hand was a little quicker, and it grasped the damp fabric. But he couldn’t lift it, because her foot was firmly on it. A warm, slightly wet foot. A foot connected to a very attractive, very naked woman. And she was looking at him with a seductive smile.

“Maybe I don’t need a towel just yet,” she purred. Then she took his hand and pressed it firmly against her supple breasts. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Peter nodded dumbly. Then his mind registered the obvious. He concentrated, and saw his wife’s face inhabiting the young mother. He smiled. “I see you’ve had a change of heart.”

Written for an original commission, posted on Outfox Stories by Kripto, reposted with permission.

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