Feel what she feels

I'm standing in the dining room, heart pounding like a drum, staring at this nightmare version of myself. My lover, Carla, the hot little apprentice witch I’ve been banging behind my wife’s back for months, is pacing in her baby blue blouse that’s unbuttoned way too low, tits almost spilling out. She looks pissed and scared at the same time.

And then there’s me. My own head, short spiked hair, neat beard, the one my wife kisses every morning, stuck on top of Carla’s exact fucking body. Same curvy hips, same heavy double-D tits straining against this skimpy black lace bra and thong set she loves wearing for me. My new tits rise and fall with every panicked breath, nipples already hard and poking through the sheer fabric because this body is so damn sensitive. Every shift of the lace sends little sparks straight to my new pussy, which is already getting slick.

“This wasn’t supposed to happen, Rick!” Carla hisses, waving her hands like she’s trying to swat the magic away. “I just wanted you to feel what I feel when you touch me, to know every spot that makes me wet. Not… not this!”

I look down at myself, at these smooth tanned legs, the curve of this fat ass in the mirror on the wall. I shift my weight and feel the thong ride up between my new cheeks, the string rubbing right against my asshole. My tits jiggle with the movement, heavy and full, and fuck, it feels good in the worst way. I grab them without thinking, just to steady them, and a moan slips out of my throat before I can stop it. The nipples are so hard they ache, and squeezing sends a hot pulse straight down to my clit.

“Stop groping yourself and help me fix this!” Carla snaps, but her eyes are glued to my chest, watching her own body react to my touch.

“I’m not groping, I’m… fuck, they’re sensitive!” I growl. I pinch one nipple through the lace and my knees almost buckle. My pussy clenches hard, a fresh gush of wetness soaking the thong. “How the hell do you walk around with these things?!”

Carla grabs her spellbook off the table, flipping pages frantically. “The reversal incantation should work. Stand still.”

She starts chanting, hands glowing faint purple, waving them over me. Nothing happens. The glow fizzles out like a dud firework. She tries again, voice rising, sweat beading between her tits. Still nothing.

“Shit. Shit!” She slams the book shut. “I must’ve bound it too deep. It’s stuck until the moon cycle resets or something. I don’t know!”

I glance at the clock. My wife’s due home any minute. She thinks I’m at a work dinner. If she walks in and sees me like this, head on Carla’s identical slutty body, both of us half-dressed and reeking of sex and panic…

“Change me back before my wife comes back home!” I yell, voice cracking. I grab Carla’s shoulders, my manicured nails digging in. My tits press against her blouse, nipple to nipple through thin fabric, and we both gasp at the contact. Electricity shoots through me, my pussy throbbing so hard I have to clench my thighs together.

I look down and see the dark wet spot spreading on the black thong. My clit is swollen, poking against the lace, begging for friction. I can’t help it. I slide one hand down, cupping my new mound, and the second my fingers brush the clit I whimper. It’s like a direct line to every nerve in this body.

“We don’t have time,” I groan, but I’m already rubbing slow circles, hips rocking forward.

Carla bites her lip, watching me finger her own pussy on my body. “Just… quick. Maybe if you come it’ll loosen the binding.”

I hear the front door lock click.

Too late.