There comes a time in every marriage where the spark dims, or goes out entirely. For some, it can happen very quickly, over the course of a few months or years. For other couples, it can take much longer, but at some point, it is inevitable. It doesn’t mean the love isn’t there. It just means that the romantic fire is smoldering, or about to go out altogether. 

Peter and Christine were in that season of marriage. They never thought they would get there, and perhaps for good reason. They had said their vows in their early  twenties, and were still very much in love after 42 years. They weren’t in the best of shape, the wrinkles were plentiful, and everything seemed harder to do. But they’d say they were happy, and if asked, would say they wanted for nothing. But that wasn’t entirely true. Because they both felt their marriage was in a slump. 

The love was still there, but the sex life had wained. This is something that for so many years they would have thought impossible. They felt their sex life was richer than most, especially since they were both bodyhoppers. 

Their first date had been while inside other people’s bodies, as had their second. For the third they met up in real life, and had been together ever since. They hopped many people all throughout their relationship, and lived out each other's fantasies in any body that caught their eye.

There were certainly lots of people to choose from. They could be anyone, their neighbors, the clerk at the grocery store, the waiter at a local restaurant, a random passerby, or a person at their place of employment. Peter had fucked so many of his secretaries that he’d lost count. 

And there was the problem. It all felt the same now. Even their ability to be anyone new had become a rut, because after a couple of decades living in the same town, they had been there, done that. Was this how they were to spend their golden years? Just come home, drink wine, watch television, and sleep. And the problem would just get worse when they retired in a few years. What they needed was to renew the spark. Could they? Is that what they wanted at this stage? Or would it just be better to coexist in a loving but sexless marriage?

Peter especially had felt this for a few months. As he poured his wife a cup of coffee that particular morning, he decided they should finally talk about it.

“You know,” he started carefully. “It’s been awhile.”

Christine half heard him as she cracked his eggs. Her husband liked his eggs cooked in a very specific way. It was both endearing, and a little annoying, because if they weren’t perfect, he wouldn’t eat them. He really should have learned to cook his own eggs by now. But no. Like so many other things, she was always the one to do it because he proved too incompetent. She was sure he could have mastered them by now, especially folding laundry, if he just put in the same effort he did with his hobbies. But he hadn’t when they were young, and so why would anything ever change. She was stuck making his eggs until one of them died.

As the eggs sizzled and marital complaints ran through her mind, her only response was a mumbled, “Put it on the calendar.”

“You want me to put our sex life on the calendar?”

“I…what? No! What are you on about?”

“It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?”

“Since what?”

“Since we’ve had sex.”

“With each other?”

“Yes. But also, as other people.”

That answer gave Christine pause. They hadn’t hopped someone to have sex in long while. They used to do it all the time in their first couple decades of marriage, multiple times a day, whenever they got half a chance. It had lessened after that, both getting swept up in the busy of life and preferring to relax at the end of the day. When was the last time they had bodyhopped someone for sex? 

“Didn’t we hop the Johnson’s?”

“Yes, what for my birthday last year, right?”

“The Smith’s?”

“For your birthday two years ago, I believe.”

“Oh, what about the Parker’s?”

“Is your memory alright? That was ages ago!”

Christine sighed. “I know. But we had really great sex in them, didn’t we?”

“I suppose,” Peter agreed. “Maybe if we hadn’t hopped them after work for a month straight they wouldn’t have lost their appeal.”

“Or maybe if they hadn’t gotten old like we did.”

“So that brings me back to my question. When was the last time we had sex?”

“I…I don’t know. Oh damn it! I’ve ruined your eggs.”

“That’s okay, I don’t have to-”

Her glare made him change course.

“But I will, I will eat them, because I love you so much,” Peter finished. 

“Smart man,” she smiled as she scraped them onto a plate. As she started making her own, she asked, “So what are you proposing?”

“Well, I mean, I think we should have sex.”

“I gathered that much. You want to do it now, or after breakfast.” It was as romantic as scheduling a trip to the store.

“Are you in the mood right now?” Peter asked curiously.

Christine pursed her lips. “Not particularly. You?”

“Me neither.”

“Part of getting older I guess.”

“But when did that happen?”

“For me it was probably after the millionth load of laundry, or maybe thinking about all the repairs that need done to this house. Or one of the other hundreds of things that I’m thinking about all the time.”

Peter nodded. “For me it's just, well, I come home, and I don’t even think about sex.”

Christine furrowed her brow. She felt the same way. “And no one does it for you out there anymore?” Christine gestured to the outside world. “No people you want to hop, or make me hop?”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’ll think about it every once in a while. But not as much as I used to. And when I do, it’s fleeting. By the time I get home from work, it feels like another thing that I, we, keep putting off to do other things.” 

“Oh, speaking of work. I’d better get going. I’ve got a meeting.”

Peter checked his watch and made a face. “Me too. I guess we can pick this up later.”

“Don’t forget your eggs.”

“I’ll be late.”

“But you’ll be alive.”

Peter paused, then quickly ate his eggs under the watchful eye of his wife. 

As the hours passed that day, both husband and wife would ponder this conversation. It was one of those brief interactions that gnawed at both of them. They both wondered, was the other person getting bored of them? Why had they stopped pursuing each other as they had in the past? Both took note of the people around them throughout the day, and briefly fantasized about their significant other hopping them for a sexual liaison. Every person they saw, no matter how attractive, barely moved the needle.

Peter arrived home from work first and poured two glasses of wine. He looked at the dark red liquid in the glass. As he did, he wondered if he should pick up that morning’s conversation, or let it lapse. 

Two minutes later, Christine practically burst through the door. She moved quickly to where she knew her husband would be and picked up her glass of wine. She downed it in two gulps, and then said, “I’ve been thinking about it, and I think we should hop the next couple we see, and fuck.”

Peter took a sip of wine and shook his head. “Look, I wasn’t trying to upset you this morning. We don’t have to rush into anything. It’s been a long day and-”

“No, no, you were right earlier,” Chrstine said firmly. We are in a rut. We’ve become boring.”

“There’s nothing wrong with boring,” Peter argued.

“Boring is fine sometimes. But is that’s what our marriage has become all the time. We used to take chances, and hop someone at the slightest hint of arousal. Let’s step outside of our comfort zone and try something new.”

Peter sighed. At their age, when they assumed an incorporeal form, their range was limited. “So you want to go out? Cause new is several miles in any direction.” 

“We could pick one of the neighbors.”

“I thought you said new.”

Christine crossed her arms as she thought about potential candidates. The well really had run dry all around them. Even if there was someone that piqued their interest, it would still be the same. Their sexual proclivites over the years had been very vanilla by other bodyhopper standards. But still, it should be this hard to convince her husband to go out with her to bodyhop and fuck someone. The situation was really more dire than she thought.

“Well, we need to get out there and start looking?”

“That’s the problem isn’t it. I haven’t seen anyone that gets me going anywhere recently. Maybe we find someone if we go into the city. And you know how that story goes. I have to fight city traffic. We take forever to find someone we like. And if and when we find a pair we can agree on, we have the logistics of getting somewhere private to have sex, and that’s a whole thing. And then it’s late, and I have to fight traffic on the way back. And then we’re both tired the next morning-”

“I get it, Peter. But we can’t just shove this under the rug. It might take some effort on our part. It’s not like the perfect solution is just going to show up right outside our door.”

Peter was about to respond, when a series of loud beeps echoed up and down their street. It was the familiar cry of a large truck signaling its intentions to back up. Peter and Christine went to investigate, and saw a large truck pull into the driveway across from their house. Two men wearing a moving company logo exited and opened the back of the truck to unload it.

Two car doors slammed, and Peter and Christine noticed two other people. A man and a woman had parked their car along the curb, and were heading towards the house. The woman put her arm around the man’s shoulder. The man reciprocated, and they gave each other a side squeeze. They began talking. Peter and Christine couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they appeared very excited.

The man went back to the car and began to retrieve a couple of bags from what Peter now saw was a very full car. The man was young, probably in his early twenties. He had fair skin and short brown hair. He wasn’t muscular per se, but the way he lifted the bags, Peter knew he was fit. He probably had abs. Christine loved men with abs. 

The woman came to the trunk and took out a small cardboard box. Christine noticed two things about her right away. The first was that she was very pretty, in a girl next door kind of way. She had a very cute face, and long hair a shade darker than the man’s. The second thing she noticed was that she was for sure older than the man. If she had to guess, at least 9 or 10 years older. That wasn’t a big deal when you got to be Christine’s age, but she’d bet that woman had been accused of robbing the cradle when they got married. 

“What are you thinking?” she asked her husband. She saw that his eyes had fixated on the woman.

Peter looked at his wife and winked at her. “I think the woman’s my type.”

Christine smiled. “I know she is.”

“And what are you thinking?” Peter asked.

“I haven’t had that young in years,” Christine mused. She arched an eyebrow. “I bet he’s got a lot of stamina.”

“So, shall we go introduce ourselves to the new neighbors?”

By the time the older couple crossed the street, they were already fantasizing about the many different sexual positions they would put the other couple in. Peter had to stop himself and think about work so he didn’t appear too aroused. A pitched tent did not make for a good first impression. 

They were on the front lawn when the couple reappeared from the house, on their way to grab another load. They saw Peter and Christine, and the woman beamed at them.

“Are you the welcoming party?” she asked. 

“Only the first wave, I’m sure,” Peter said. Now that he was closer, he tried not to stare at her ample chest which strained under a lavender shirt. He looked forward to seeing this woman naked.

Christine was having the same thoughts about the man, but saw that she was perhaps mistaken about his age. He was even more attractive up close, but now she thought he might be 20, or…even 19. Was that too young? And how old was the woman then? Because she appeared a few years older than she previously thought, like 33 or 34. That was a large gap at that age.

She extended her hand to the woman. “I’m Christine, and this is my husband Paul. We live right across from you. Happy to see someone finally moved into this house.”

“Oh we are happy to be here,” she said, taking Christine and Peter’s hands in turn. “My name’s Sara, and this is Mark.”

Mark took the cue, and also shook their hands. “Pleased to meet you,” he said, then began rifling through the contents of the car. He carefully extracted a fragile wooden clock. “Where do you want this, Mom?” he asked.

Peter and Christine stiffened at this question. For them, the idea of incest had always been off the table. 

“Um, so, uh,” Peter sputtered, wanting to make absolutely sure he had heard correctly. He pointed towards Mark who was already heading back to the house with the clock. “So he’s…not your husband?”

Sara laughed. “Oh heavens no. He’s way too young for me. And also he’s my son. That’s why he calls me mom.”

Christine nodded her head like this made perfect sense. Without thinking, she said, “He seems younger up close.”

Sara thought that was an odd thing to say. She must have communicated that with her face, because Christine quickly added, “You both look young. Everyone looks young at our age.”

“Sweet of you to say,” Sara said graciously. “I’ll be 35 this year, so compliments like that keep me going.”

“So, will your husband be along shortly?” Peter asked insistently, and with less tact that Christine would have liked.

Sara’s face tightened a little. “My husband died a long time ago, unfortunately.”

“Well, we’re sorry to hear that, dear,” Christine said sympathetically. 

Peter’s face looked like he was trying to solve a challenging riddle. “But…you look too young to have a son that old.”

“You two are just full of compliments!” Sara said, beaming again. “His father and I were high school sweethearts, and I had Mark when I was still a teenager. I was younger than he is now when I had him.”

Despite new reservations, Chrstine was still trying to do the math. “So, Mark is how old exactly?”

 “He’s 18,” Sarah replied. She was beginning to feel like she was in an interview. “He seems older because he’s been the man of the house for so long. It’s been just the two of us for almost his whole life.”

“I see,” Peter and Christine said in unison. 

The couple did not want to dally now, and looked for a way to excuse themselves without appearing rude. As Mark reappeared to collect more items from the car, Peter piped in, “Well, we don’t want to interrupt you while you’re moving. Lots to do I suppose.”

Before she could stop herself, Christine offered, “Unless you would like any help?”

Peter silently cursed his wife. She knew about his bad back. And he knew about her bad knees. What did she expect them to do that would actually be helpful?

During this meeting, Sara had also been giving her neighbors a bit of an appraisal. They seemed nice enough. But as far as helpful moving candidates, they might be a little past their prime. The husband looked like he might have a heart attack if she asked him to do any manual labor. Probably best not to chance it. Plus, there was something a little creepy about the way they had looked at her and her son. She had caught Peter staring at her chest repeatedly. She didn’t like it, but given her figure, she had lived with it for most of her life. What she hadn’t appreciated was how Christine had looked at Mark like he was a piece of meat, right up until she told them they were mother and son.

She began filling her arms with more odds and ends from the car. “You know, I think we’ve got it. But thank you!”

“Oh, okay, we’ll let you get to it,” Peter said quickly. And the couple turned and walked back to their house. 

Sara cocked her head as she watched them go. Maybe her intuition was off. They clearly meant well, coming over to meet them and offering to help. Maybe she was just tired from the trip. She shouldn’t make such rash judgments against her neighbors. She pushed the thoughts aside and focused on the task of moving into their new home.

Back across the street, Peter and Christine were discreetly watching from each end of the living room curtains.

After a minute, Chrstine gave a heavy sigh. “Well, I guess it was too good to be true.”

“So we’re for sure ruling them out?” Peter asked regretfully. “I mean, you did say the next guy and gal-”

“They’re related,” Christine said sharply. “And not distantly. They’re mother and son. About as close as it gets.”

“I know, but-”

“How is there a but? We’ve always had that rule, Peter. No incest.”

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?”

“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.”

She pressed against him, feeling his hardness on her skin. “What can I say? I felt like being a couple decades younger this morning.” And then she kissed him. She felt his hands grip her, then begin to travel over her body. Before they could get very far, she broke off the kiss and pushed him back. ‘Nuh uh, mister. Now it’s your turn to feel frustrated.” She retrieved the egg carton from the refrigerator, being sure to put a little extra sway in her hips as she went. She gave them to Peter and said with a smile, “Why don’t you take those back to the Missus.”

“But, we could just…”

Sara gave him the look, and even without seeing her actual face, he knew his wife wouldn’t allow him to push. He dutifully took the carton. He was backing towards the door, slowly, so as to drink in as much of Sara’s body as possible, when he heard Mark yell from the adjoining hallway.

“Mom! What’s going on?”

Sara quickly reached for the towel and covered herself. She turned sheepishly to Mark and said, “Oops, sorry. I dropped my towel. Very clumsy of me. I’m so sorry for flashing you both. You’re welcome for the eggs Peter.”

Mark turned away from the sight of his barely covered Mom. Peter retreated quickly, but held the door open for his wife to follow. Mark didn’t see the mist that escaped from his mother and flew back across the street.

When Peter came back into his house, he found his wife naked, sitting on the table with her legs spread wide. Nobody got eggs that morning, and they were both late to work.

When they got home later that day, they were both very quiet for the first hour. They drank wine and gave each other nervous fleeting glances. Neither wanted to voice what they really wanted. Peter didn’t because he thought his wife would still turn the idea down. And Christine didn’t because she didn’t want to admit how much she had come around to the idea. 

Finally, Peter asked. “So, it’s Friday. Shall we go out to eat?”

In way of reply, Christine opened the curtains that faced the street. They both looked towards the neighbors house. A shirtless Mark was outside mowing the lawn. “How about we order in?”

Peter nodded. “If that’s what you want.”

“I’m beginning to think it is.”

“What should we get?”

Christine gave her husband a winning smile. “I think I’d like to try something we’ve never done before.”

“Oh really.”

“Yeah. Who knows. Maybe we’ll discover something that will become our new favorite.”

“I’m glad you’re open to trying new things.”

“As long as I get to try it with you.”

“So should we, uh, do it right now?”

“Probably. Every place takes about an hour to get here.”

Peter’s shoulders sagged. “Oh. Right. Of course. For a second there I thought maybe we were talking about something else.”

Christine tore her eyes away from the neighbor boy and walked towards her husband. She put a hand on his cheek, and gave him a passionate kiss. Then she said, “I can talk about two things at the same time, dear.”

For the second time that day they made love in their own bodies while waiting for food to be delivered. That hadn’t happened in quite some time.

Afterwards they poured more wine. By the time the food arrived, they had a nice buzz going. After eating, they talked about next steps, as they climbed the stairs to their bed. They fell asleep in each other’s arms earlier than they’d anticipated. It had been a long week, but they were looking forward to tomorrow. 

When Peter awoke that Saturday morning, a thrill went through him. He rolled over to see if his wife was awake, and saw that she was. She had been waiting for him. The expression on her face told him that she was just as excited.

“Shall we?” Peter asked.

Christine winked. “Let’s shall.”

Peter got up and opened the window a crack. After a few moments, their bodies dissolved into mist, and zoomed across the street and through the neighbor’s keyhole. They drifted room to room, and grew more impatient as they came up empty. It was taxing to be in this form at their age, and they both wanted to find their desired hosts soon.

After coming to the conclusion that no one was home, they went back outside. They verified that the car was in the driveway. They drifted higher over the house, looking to and fro, and finally spotted their neighbors. They were jogging, about half a block away. 

Peter and Christine’s ethereal forms raced towards their marks. Peter outpaced his wife and got there first. He took a moment to watch mother and son as they ran together. He admired the way Sara’s ponytail swung back and forth. He admired even more how her ass looked in the light blue lycra running shorts. They were tight and rode up the crack between her cheeks. He turned his attention toward Mark and shot forward. He hung in the air a few paces ahead, and allowed Mark to run into him.

Mark was briefly aware of running into a patch of fog as mist hit his face. But the condensation quickly started flowing into his mouth and nose. Something wasn’t right. He felt his mind clouding, as if something were trying to make him go to sleep. But it also felt like he wasn’t alone. Like someone else was there with him in his mind. Fear gripped him, but only for a moment, then everything went dark. 

Peter instantly felt the power of strong legs and a youthful physique. He hated running, or jogging, or even a slow walk in his older body. But this body seemed like it could run for miles with no complaints. But he wasn’t here to win any races.

The first thing Peter did was slacken Mark’s pace. This allowed him to have an excellent view of Sara’s tight butt. He could watch those cheeks move up and down all day. He wanted to spread them, to stick Mark’s dick between them.  The more he looked, the harder it became to run, because of the monster growing in his running shorts.

He looked up and saw his wife’s mist keeping pace over Sara’s head. What was she waiting for? Then he realized that she was probably enjoying his new problem, as his boner was easily viewable as it tented his shorts.

Peter stopped running and began a leisurely walk. “C’mon,” he said Mark’s voice. “Just do it already.”

Sara was twenty paces ahead, and didn’t quite hear what her son said. She turned around. “What did you say? And what are you stopping for?”

“I said I’m tired already. I feel like something’s slowing me down.”

Concerned, she walked back towards her son. “Are you feeling okay?”

He smiled at her. “It’s just hard to run when I’ve got this problem down here.” He gestured towards the tent in his shorts.

Sara looked down and gasped, then began to sputter, “Um, okay. That, uh, that doesn’t usually happen when we run.”

“I know. But this time I couldn’t keep myself from looking at your butt, so now I’ve got this massive boner.”

She was about to admonish him, when a mist flew into her face. She flailed as a presence hit her consciousness like a wrecking ball. Her eyes rolled back in her head, but a moment later, they reappeared with a lustful gleam. She smiled and said, “Do you like looking at mommy’s butt?”

Peter found that Mark was so hard it was almost painful. “I sure do.”

“Well maybe I’ll walk ahead of you on the way back home. Would you like that? Would you like to see my sexy ass sway back and forth?”

“I sure would?”

“And maybe when we get home, you can take those constricting shorts off and let that massive pecker free.”

Mark looked at his mother and asked, “Is that something you’d like to see?”

“I just might.”

Peter and Christine walked briskly in the direction of their neighbor’s house. It took a supreme effort by Peter not to reach out and slap or grab Sara’s ass. It took plenty of willpower for Christine not to turn around and reach down the front of Mark’s shorts to touch his throbbing member.

“They expecting anyone?” Peter asked in his voice. “The boy’s pretty clueless about what’s happening.other than helping Sara”

Christine easily rifled through Sara’s thoughts and memories. “Nope,” Chrstine replied in her voice. “They were going to focus on setting up the house this weekend. Then Sara reports to her new job on Monday.”

“So we’ve got the weekend then.”

Christine quickened Sara’s pace. “So it would seem.” 

Christine began perusing Sara’s mind for other details. All of Sara’s life was an open book for Christine. It was the thing she loved most about bodyhopping, to have complete and utter access to another person’s deepest wants and desires, and be able to act them out in the way the real Sara never would. 

Christine thought about the last time Sara had had sex. The hardworking mom hadn’t dated in two years, and that relationship hadn’t lasted more than a few weeks. She rarely pleasured herself, opting to put her time into work and raising her son. But now, faced with sudden and intense arousal, it was apparent that the woman was a little more than pent up. By the time they got to the front door, there was a growing damp spot on the front of Sara’s shorts. The woman desperately needed to get laid. Thankfully she had a stud in close proximity.

As soon as the door was closed, Peter grabbed Sara. The sweat of their bodies intertwined as mother and son’s mouths met. Mark’s hands began to grope and squeeze. He was so horny. Peter knew the kid had only ever had sex once, and he didn’t think he had been any good at it. But his body was now touching a beautiful, experienced woman, who just happened to be his mom, and it was sending his hormones into overdrive.

He stopped kissing after a few seconds, but spun Sara around. He shoved her up against the wall and cupped her butt. As he let a hand slide along the fabric buried between her cheeks, he let her in on Mark’s recent thoughts. “He hasn’t been able to get the picture of you naked out of his head. It really did a number on him, seeing his hot mom without a stitch on her in the kitchen. He feels ashamed, because he can’t stop thinking about it, and was turned on by it.”

Christine moaned in her voice, then turned back around to kiss Mark’s lips again. They stayed connected that way for a minute. Christine was content to let her husband paw greedily at the tight fitting sports bra. She also busied herself by letting a hand snake down Mark’s front and feel the length of him. Chrstine had seen bigger, but Sara hadn’t. Right before being hopped, Sara’s thoughts had been surprised by the size of her son’s penis. And unbidden, the thought of what it would feel like to be stretched out by a dick that big had flitted through her head. It was quickly replaced with fury over her son exposing himself to her, and in public. But there was no fury now. Only need. The need to know what a dick like that could do to Sara’s very neglected pussy. 

As Peter tried and failed to remove Sara’s sports bra, Christine gently pushed his hands down. In her own voice, she said, “Peter, they’re both hot and sweaty. Why don’t we go make use of the showers in this house before we have our fun?”

“We could shower together,” Peter said hopefully.

“No. It’ll build up the anticipation, and give us a chance to learn about our hosts more. You know I like it when we play out a couple’s fantasies.”

“But they’re not a couple?” Peter pointed out before he could stop himself.

“That didn’t stop Mom here from fantasizing about her son’s big dick.”

Mark’s jaw dropped. “Really?”

“Only for a split second. And she’d never act on it in a million years, but the thought was still there. Her body is hungry for sex, and when it saw that hard young dick, it’s thought of little else. She’s got a wild side her son knows nothing about, until today.”

Peter reached for her again, but Christine swatted him away. “Nope. No more until you’re all clean.”

Knowing there was no sense arguing, Peter nodded Mark’s head. “Whatever you say, dear.”

Sara’s mouth burst into a smile. It was the same one she had used when greeting them the first time on their front lawn. She put a hand on Mark’s shoulder and said with genuine warmth and affection in Sara’s voice, “Call me Mom.”

Mark’s dick found a new level of hard. In Mark’s voice, he dutifully replied, “Yes Mom.”

She patted his cheek. “That’s my good boy. For right now, there is no Peter and Christine. Only Sara and Mark, a mother and her son.”

They went their separate ways, Mark to the smaller bathroom on the ground floor. It had a shower that Mark had to stoop slightly to use, but Sara had already claimed the upstairs one as hers. Sara always liked to have her own personal bathroom. It was about the only thing she didn’t share. 

Sara climbed the stairs and entered her much larger bathroom. She turned on the shower to get it to the temperature she wanted. Then she slowly began to undress in front of the large vanity. Chrstine was thoroughly impressed by what was underneath. She had been in such a hurry yesterday, she hadn’t gotten much time to appreciate it. Sara had a tight body with ample boobs with barely any sag to them. “Oh, to be young again,” Christine said aloud. 

As Christine stepped into shower, she began a thorough examination of the inner workings of Sara’s mind.She looked at how Sara saw herself. She was a woman who liked to stay professional at work, and carefree at home. She hadn’t really dressed up or pampered herself since that last date two years ago. She also didn’t think much of her body, which Christine thought was ridiculous. As she brought a hand up to pinch a sensitive nipple, she said, “If you only knew how hot and bothered your son is right now for this body, you’d think otherwise.”

As Peter showered in Mark’s body, he let his thoughts blend with Mark’s sexual preferences. The kid liked porn, what teenager didn’t. He masturbated almost every day. He recognized that his mother was attractive, only very recently though for obvious reasons. He hadn’t stroked it to her yet, but it was probably inevitable that her face popped up the next time he stroked it. Before yesterday, he had got a brief side view of her tits while she was changing. She thought she had the door closed, but it was open enough that he saw her without a bra. He had never told her about it. He had been too embarrassed to ever tell her about it, and had buried it in his memories. 

But Peter saw, just below the surface of tits and ass, there was another kink that really got him going. It was in almost every internet search he did these days. He realized he’d need to clue Christine in. He got out of the shower and toweled off. He saw no need for clothes, so he bounded upstairs naked. He heard water running, so he opened the door.

“Is that you, Mark?” his mother’s voice called. “I’m in the shower.”

Peter began in his voice, “This kid really likes-”

“I’m sorry, Mark. You don’t sound like yourself. Could you try again?”

Peter nodded. He’d forgotten to stay in character. “Right, sorry Mom. I was wondering if you could scrub your feet like, really well. And when you get out of the shower, maybe like, put some toenail polish on them.”

The top part of the shower curtain popped to the side and Sara’s face appeared. “Ooh, does my son have a foot fetish?”

“I believe I do. A big one. Did you suspect at all?”

Sara’s lips pursed as she thought. “Yeah, oh, actually very much, yes. You forgot to close out a browser once. And I’ve seen your search history several times, young man.”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “I remember getting a lecture from you recently. You said it was natural for me to masturbate, but you didn’t want to ever see the kinky stuff I jacked off to.”

A little bit more of the curtain moved, and Sara revealed the top half of her body. “Do you still like looking at kinky stuff, Mark?”

Mark gulped. “Yes, Mom.”

She noticed his penis begin to rise. “Oh my. Does looking at your mother in the shower count as kinky?”

“I think it does, Mom.”

“I see,” she said, as she began to soap up her boobs. “Well since it’s about your mother and not some random internet hussy, I suppose we can make an exception this time. Why don’t you run along now, so I can give my feet some special attention.”

“Seriously. I’m going to get blue balls here,” Mark pouted.

“Tsk, tsk. It’ll be worth the wait. I promise. Now go on.”

As Mark exited, Sara chuckled to herself, then grabbed the loofa and resumed scrubbing between her toes. “I’ll make sure these feet are squeaky clean for you, son.”

Peter began pacing up and down the upstairs hallway. He finally heard the shower shut off. He knew Christine was drying off Sara’s body. She was on the other side of the bathroom door, completely naked and wanted to fuck. He paced faster. He kept this up for 20 seconds, when finally, Sara called out, “Mark, I can hear you pacing. Please go wait in my bedroom.”

“How much longer do I have to wait, Mom?” Mark groaned.

“Painting toes takes time, sweetie. And then I’ll have to dry them. Why don’t you go busy yourself picking out something for Mommy to wear. I forgot to bring anything in here with me, and I’d just hate to expose my naked body to you again so soon. Please pick out something from my top middle dresser drawer.”

Peter was off like a shot. When he got there, he saw that it was familiar to Mark. He had gone snooping through it once, to see what a bra looked like. He had marveled at how soft and silky they were. There were plenty of bras and panties, but nothing too terribly scandalous. That would have to be remedied soon. Peter took the time to sniff a few of the undergarments. They smelled like Sara. He longed to smell her skin directly instead of this material that had held up her boobs or rubbed against her pussy. 

He finally decided on a red, lace bustier that he thought would display her boobs perfectly. It also went with the only thong she possessed. He took them and stood outside the bathroom door. He heard a blow dryer running. He knocked loudly. 

“Yes sweetie?” 

“I picked out some clothes for you, Mom.”

“Thank you so much. You can leave them on the floor and I’ll get them shortly.”

“How much longer?”

“Don’t rush me young man, or I'll break out the nail polish remover. Now go and wait in my room.”

Shortly after Peter went back to Sara’s room, he heard the bathroom door open and close. Christine had retrieved the lingerie. She’d be putting it on, then coming to the room. Why did this turn him on so much more than anything he’d ever experienced before as a bodyhopper? Was it the incestual nature of it all? It must be. But the wait was driving him mad. He lay sprawled out naked on his mother’s bed for what seemed like hours, absently mindedly stroking his meat every few seconds. And then finally he heard soft footsteps padding towards the room. He moved to the end of the bed and sat there, waiting expectantly for the door to open.

As Sara opened her bedroom door, she said, “Mark, I’m not sure you picked out something that’s appropriate for me to wear around her son.” And then she saw her son sitting on her bed, naked and staring at her with wide eyes. “Mark, please cover yourself!” She chided, and then bit her lip.

“I…what?”

“It is not okay to be naked in my room, Mark. Were you masturbating again? Was it because you got to go through Mommy’s underwear drawer?”

Peter could see the outline of Sara’s nipples. They were hard and pointed in his direction. Obediently, he reached back and grabbed a pillow to cover his crotch. “Yeah. I couldn’t stop myself. I, I sniffed your panties and now I can’t get it to go back down. Sorry, Mom.”

Sara gave him a knowing look. “Well, you are still a teenager. I’m sure you get turned on by so many things. I just didn’t think it would be from sniffing your Mom’s panties.”

“Do you think I’m a pervert?”

“No. Well, maybe a little. I have seen your internet history, you know. I was surprised by some of the things you searched for. Your fascination with feet for example.”

“It’s not a fascination, Mom. It’s a fetish. I get off on looking at them. I think about touching them, and…and more.”

Sara cocked her head inquisitively. “Like what?”

Mark looked away. “I…can we not talk about this anymore, Mom? It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s okay, Mark. I’m your mother, and I love you. You can tell me anything. Why don’t you start by telling me what kind of feet you like?”

“What kind?”

“Yes, sweetie.” Sara lifted a leg and placed her delicate foot onto the pillow positioned over her son’s crotch. “Take mine for example. Do you like my feet?”

Peter couldn’t have cared less about feet when he woke up this morning. He was always a boob guy. But as he saw Sara’s feet through Mark’s eyes, the clean skin, the toenails with bright red polish, he knew these were exactly the kind of feet that got him off. “I do Mom. Very much.”

“Well thank you, Mark. Now tell me, what else would you do?”

“Mom?”

“If you could do more than look, I mean. Would you touch them? Would you like to touch my feet?”

“Mom, please. We don’t have to.”

“They’re your mother’s feet, Mark. I don’t mind. You’ve seen them before. You can touch them if you want.”

Mark put a hand on her foot and began to caress it, letting his palm slide up and down and feel its smoothness. He loved the dark red color she had used on her toenails. It really made them stand out. “It’s so nice, Mom. Would you let me feel the other one too?”

“Of course dear, but why don’t we get more comfortable first.” Sara crawled onto the bed on all fours, and gave Mark another great view of her ass in the thong. She propped herself up against the headboard, and then waved one of her feet invitingly at her son. “Come on. Touch them. Touch them both as much as you want.”

Mark got on his knees at the end of the bed and reached for his mother’s feet. He lowered his face to them and sniffed. They smelled of her rose scented body wash. “They smell really nice, Mom.”

“I’m glad you think so. Is there anything else you’d like to do to them?”

“Uh, well, I’d like to, uh…”

“It’s okay, Mark. Spit it out. You don’t have to be shy. You can do anything you want to Mommy’s feet.”

“I’d like to suck your toes.”

Sara feigned shock. “Oh my. You…you want to put your mouth on my feet? To lick my toes with your tongue?”

“Yes, Momma.”

Sara licked her lips. “Well, I guess it’s okay, if it’s just this once.”

Mark smiled, lowered his mouth, and kissed her big toe. Then he put it into his mouth and let his tongue swirl around it.

Sara began to squirm. “It kind of tickles, but it feels nice. How about you? How does it make you feel, sucking Mommy’s toes?”

Mark didn’t answer right away, but continued to lick and kiss his mother’s feet. Then he showed her how it made him feel, as he raised his upper half, pulling her forward a little to keep one foot near his mouth. Sara saw that his dick was fully extended and rigid. A bit of precum dribbled down the front. 

“My feet did that?” Sara gasped. 

“They did.”

“Would it feel good if Mommy did this?” She lifted her free foot, and pressed it against her son’s cock. She was rewarded with a moan. She pulled her other foot free, and he looked at her like a child that had been deprived of their favorite toy. But his expression changed when it joined the other foot touching his dick. She let both feet encircle Mark’s engorged member. Then ever so slowly, she began to stroke it with her feet. She’d never done anything like this before. Her late husband and few other sexual partners had never requested anything like this. Still, by the way her son was moaning, she’d say she was a natural. “I believe I saw the term, footjob, in your history. Is that what this is?” she asked innocently.

“Oh fuck,” Peter said in his voice. “This kid’s always dreamed of something like this. Too bad I’m the one that gets to enjoy it, and with his mother’s feet at that.”

“Peter!” Christine’s voice snapped. “Stay in the moment!” And then to shut him up, she brought a foot back up to Mark’s lips. In Sara’s voice, she said, “Did I get them clean enough for you, Mark. I gave them so much attention because, well, I thought you’d like to look at them up close. I didn’t intend for it to go this far though.”

As the other foot encircled his dick, Mark opened his mouth and began licking the bottom of her feet, from sole to toe. “”Oh, they’re clean alright.”

“Oh, Mark,” Sara’s voice moaned. “This is turning me on so much. I haven’t been treated like a woman for so long. We should stop before it goes any further.” Her words didn’t match her actions, because even as she said them, she spread her legs at the knees, and shoved the front of the thong to the side. This gave Mark an unfettered view of her glistening snatch. She began to rub it slowly. She wanted to quench the burning ache she felt there. “We should stop, right Mark?”

Mark fervently shook his head side to side.

“Well if you get to put Mommy’s toes in your mouth, I think it’s only fair that you let your mother put something of yours in hers.” She withdrew her feet and kneeled facing him on the bed. Her hands lightly gripped his penis and squeezed. “You're such a big boy. I don’t know if I can fit it all in, but I’m going to try.” 

She lowered her head, put her elbows on the bed, and slowly took her son’s cock into her mouth. At first, it was just the tip. Her tongue greedily lapped up on the pre cum. There wasn’t near enough of it. She longed to taste more of him. More of her son. She crawled forward, and took inch after inch of him into her mouth. And then she began to slide her lips up and down his shaft. While she did, her tongue never stopped moving. She was on a mission now. She wouldn’t stop until she gave her son release.

“Uh, Christine. I mean, Mom. That feels really good. Too good! This body isn’t going to be able to-to…oh, here we go!”

Christine had sucked a lot of cock in many bodies. Some couldn’t take it, others faired better, but Sara took her son’s spunk like a pro. She didn’t lose suction as it spewed into her mouth, and quickly and efficiently, she swallowed it down her throat. When she finally relinquished his cock, it was as clean as her feet.

“I’m sorry, Mom. I’ve never had a girl go down on me before.”

Sara sat up and stroked his cheek. “That’s okay. As hard as you were, I didn’t think you’d last too long. I hope you recover quickly though.”

“Why?”

“Because I’d like you to stick that hard dick into more than just my mouth.”

“Really?” Mark asked excitedly.

“Really. I’m afraid you’ve got mommy very hot and bothered. But I can’t wait for your dick to recover. I’ll need you to tend to Mommy right away.”

“I’ll do anything you say, Mom.”

“I know you will, son.” She unfastened the bustier, and took it off, then pulled down the red thong. She lay back down on the bed fully naked, and spread her legs. “Have you ever eaten a woman out before?”

Mark shook his head no.

“Well I’ll teach you.” She used her fingers to spread her pussy. “You see this?” she asked, as she pointed to her clit. “It feels very good when I rub here. I’d like you to put your tongue there. Move it up and down, and side to side, and every so often, I want you to stick it way up inside me right here. Can you do that for your very horny Momma?”

“Yes, ma’am.” 

A new wave of moisture coated her pussy as Mark began licking her. The way he did, it certainly seemed like he was lying about never having done it before. “That’s it Mark. You’re doing so good, baby. Oh, bring a hand up here and squeeze Mommy’s tits.”

A strong arm reached up and began groping and pawing at her boobs. “Do you like my tits, Mark? Have you ever thought about them before?” She thought she heard a muffled yes. “Of course you have. They’re amazing, aren’t they? They got so much bigger after I had you. It’s only natural to want to sneak a peek at them. To want to put your hands and mouth on them. You did it when you were little, and now you’re doing it again. Feel them. Grab them. Pull at them. Yes. Yes! That’s Mommy’s good little pervert. You are a pervert, aren’t you, Mark, with your face buried in your mother’s pussy. You love it, don’t you? Oh right there. Right there! Oh, fuck! Yes. Yes! Harder! Use that long tongue of yours. Yes!”

Her hips began to buck and writhe. And then Mark’s tongue went deep inside her as she came. 

She let out a few longs breaths, then said, “Oh, sweetie. That was-”

Before she could finish, he had lifted a leg onto his shoulder. He spread her other leg just a little bit, and then he stuck his rejuvenated penis into her and began thrusting for all he was worth. 

“Oh!” she screamed with pleasure. “Oh fuck! What are you doing Mark? Oh, I was wrong about you! You are a damned pervert, fucking your mom’s pussy like this! Please, please lick my foot while you pound mommy’s pussy!”

Mark did. His tongue was a blur on her foot. His dick was a blur in her drenched pussy. Peter was able to go on for longer this time, and he loved every second of it as he watched Sara come again and again and again. Finally, he erupted in her a second time. His strength left him, and he flopped onto the bed next to her.

After they lay there for several minutes, Peter’s voice mumbled. “That was amazing. Should we…should we clean them up and go back home?”

“We’re in no rush,” Christine’s voice panted. “We could stay inside these bodies for the night. Or the weekend.”

Peter chuckled. “I think you really liked it this mother son roleplay. You might be one of those bodyhopping degenerates I’ve heard so much about.”

“Oh be quiet. This was a one time thing.”

“Was it?”

“I mean…well. I suppose now I’m more open to trying something new.”

The end?

Author's note.

I'd be willing to continue this with the same couple as they try brother/sister, father/daughter, etc. Feel free to create a commission, and consider becoming one of my supporters here on outfoxstories. Your comments and support keep motivating me to write.

Kripto