Detoured
I commissioned this piece a while ago. By @kinkypupecho.
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Tanner could feel the wind in his face. It was, in a word, exhilarating. If he’d known that going on a morning run could be so good, he might have made a habit of it a long time ago.
For as long as Tanner could remember, he’d been the lanky guy in every social group he was ever a part of. He was the kid that grew taller summer after summer, but never much wider—not that he was particularly tall, either, though.
The jokes were a constant in his life. Whenever a bad storm was rolling through town, they’d tell him to stay indoors because people were afraid that a strong wind might carry him away.
It was never mean-spirited. At least, Tanner never thought it was. Hearing the same jokes time and again did eventually get old, though.
It wasn’t like he could do anything about it, though. He wasn’t skinny for lack of trying. He ate enough for two people and still never managed to bulk up. His closest friends called him a black hole for food, and he might as well have been since none of them could quite figure out where it all went.
This was the year that Tanner decided he was going to do something about it. He might not have won the genetic lottery for bodybuilding, but he was sure that with hard work and dedication, he’d be able to make some progress.
It was never his intention to get huge. He just wanted some meat on his bones. He wanted his clothes to finally start fitting him right. Because they never sat comfortably on his shoulders. And even the smallest sizes sometimes felt too large on his narrow frame.
This was Tanner’s first morning run. What he really needed to do was some strength training so that he could build some muscle mass. The problem was that he’d been having some trouble with motivation, of late. He’d read online that a morning run was a good way to get in the mindset and the further along he got, the more he was inclined to believe it.
He was lucky that he lived near a nice park. It felt great to be out in nature—to be breathing relatively clean air. He doubted that running around a city block would have felt as exhilarating or stimulating.
Tanner did think that he might have taken a bit of a wrong turn, though. He’d deliberately chosen a trail that people didn’t often take—he’d felt a bit self-conscious about being on his first morning run—but it felt like he’d strayed somewhere he shouldn’t have been.
A faint sense of dread settled into the pit of Tanner’s stomach. A small voice in the back of his head was telling him to turn around now before it was too late, but he’d already come so far. And besides, he wasn’t sure he’d even be able to find the way back.
Tanner swallowed his trepidation and continued down the trail. He was certain he would eventually make it back to the main trail if he just followed the path, but that certainty was dwindling with every moment that passed.
The trail looked increasingly dilapidated the further along he went. Vegetation was starting to poke through the packed dirt. The foliage overhead was getting to be so dense that the sunlight had visibly dimmed.
The worst part was the silence. The ambient noise that Tanner had taken for granted had faded to nothing. Now, the forest around him was just eerily quiet.
Tanner stopped for a moment to catch his breath. This whole place was giving him the heebie-jeebies. He felt like he’d wandered into some sort of in-between, into a realm where he didn’t belong.
He felt a pang of terror when the temperature in his immediate vicinity dropped. His breath misted in front of his face as if it were a crisp winter day, even though it was the middle of July.
Tanner’s eyes went wide. He could see curlicues of frost spiraling down the bark of the tree across the path from him. He wasn’t alone. He didn’t know how he knew that or why he was so certain, but he felt a presence.
“Help… Me…”
The ghostly voice sent a chill down Tanner’s spine. He should have run but he was rooted to the spot. His feet refused to move.
A thin fog filled the air and suddenly there was a figure hovering right in front of Tanner’s eyes. Its face was a bit hazy on account of it being made of mist. Somehow, Tanner could tell it was a young man around his age.
He was frozen as the visage reached out to him. “Help… Me…” the ghostly figure repeated, its fingers outstretched as it slowly drifted toward Tanner.
Tanner couldn’t move. He was petrified. He was terrified. He scrunched his eyes shut and held his breath. He didn’t know what else to do.
He felt something ice-cold touch his chest through the fabric of his shirt. It sank through his skin and seeped through his breastbone. It settled in the center of his chest and then spread throughout his body like a rush of ice water flowing through his veins.
Tanner gasped, his eyes flying open just in time to see the apparition’s ghostly form being sucked into his body. He sucked down a breath and tendrils of ghostly mist surged up his nose and down his throat, filling his lungs.
As soon as the ghost was gone, the temperature went back to normal. The forest suddenly didn’t seem so dark. The ambient noise returned.
Tanner wondered if maybe he’d just imagined the whole thing but then memories that weren’t his own started to bubble up inside him. He tried to push them out of his head but they were insistent. The same memories came up but they were a confusing jumble. The order was messed up. It was as if someone were struggling to tell him a story. Against his better judgment, Tanner took a breath and opened his mind to the memories.
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His hand trembled as he read the letter aloud. “Dear Jerome…” it began. “Congratulations! I am thrilled to offer you admission—”
All he’d wanted to do was go on a run. He didn’t need this. He sorely wished this bitch would just take her drama elsewhere.
“The good news is, it’s not terrible.” That was a relief. He just wished he didn’t know there was a ‘but’ coming. “The bad news is, you’ll be out of commission for a couple of weeks.”
What the fuck? Why did his hand just pass through that bush? Why did his hand pass through his body?
Just a little further. Come on. Come on! Don’t choke now! His heart was racing. His blood was pumping. His legs were flying as they carried him across the pitch, and then— “TOUCHDOWN!”
He grimaced. That shrill screeching was grating on his nerves. That poor guy was just taking a walk, minding his own business. That woman needed to get a grip.
It didn’t matter whether he ran, flew, or crawled. He was trapped. Chained to his body. He could get up to the trail but that was it. He couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to.
He spotted a side trail. It wasn’t his usual route, but anywhere else was better than the main trail. That bitch was still screaming that poor man’s ear off.
He was grinning from ear to ear. This was it. The defining moment. He could scarcely hear himself think—the crowd was going wild.
“It looks like you’ll be all good by the end of next week.” That was a relief. But it did mean he was still going to miss the championships.
He tilted his head. He couldn’t understand. Why was he looking at himself? More importantly, how was he looking at himself?
He thrust the game ball into the air. “FUCK, YEAH!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs. His teammates all rushed him, a dozen sweaty men all jumping up and down. The energy was infectious. He couldn’t stop grinning.
He shivered. Maybe he should have stayed on the main trail. This area was giving him the creeps. He felt like the trees were closing in on him. But fuck was it a relief to be away from that Karen and her entitled screeching.
The crowd jumped to their feet in the bleachers. He didn’t join them. Just last week, he’d felt triumphant. Unconquerable. Now, he was sitting in the bleachers with his arm in a sling.
Why… was he down here? The trail was up there. And why was his body all twisted like that? That didn’t look natural…
He was on top of the world. His teammates carried him past the home crowd on their shoulders. He pumped his fist in the air and everyone cheered. Coach was grinning from ear to ear.
“It looks like you’re all good to get back to your usual routines. In a hurry to get better, were you?” He gave the doctor a polite chuckle. He was just glad to get the sling off.
Why was he in the bushes? Did he take a tumble? The last thing he remembered was running along the trail and then… nothing…
He was walking back to the locker room when a shock of ice-cold sports drink jolted him out of his reverie. He spun around, eyes wide. Two of his teammates grinned at him, holding the empty cooler between them. “Oh, you two are fucking dead now," he said with a laugh as he took off in hot pursuit.
No. No, no, no. That wasn’t right. He couldn’t be dead. He was fine. This was all just a bad nightmare. His doctor had said he was fine.
“We’re sending you in for a closer look. It’s probably nothing, but we want to make sure. No, you’re free to get back to your usual routine. Just maybe try and avoid contact sports until we can get things looked at.”
He hated feeling this way. It was stupid. He was being selfish. He should be happy that his team was winning. But part of him didn’t want them to make it any further, now that he had to sit out.
How many days had it been? He wasn’t sure anymore. Had anyone noticed he was gone? Was anyone looking for him? Wait… Was this the same day? Or was it a new one…?
No. This wasn’t right. This was impossible. He was too young to die. He had so much to live for. So many things he still wanted to do!
He was positively sticky by the time he got back to the locker room. “MVP! MVP! MVP!” they all cheered as soon as he entered. Hell yeah. Tonight, at least, he was the man.
They did it. His team won. He didn’t feel like a winner, though. There were only the state championships left. They were all celebrating down there like he didn’t exist. No one even looked over his way.
It felt weird, being inside a bird. He couldn’t shake the wrongness of it. But it confirmed something for him, at least. He needed a new body. That was the only way he was going to be able to leave.
Campus. It was all so intimidating, but exciting, too. He was standing in front of the student residence, everything he owned packed in his bags. This was where his future would start and he couldn’t wait to face it.
He couldn’t take this anymore. He was cold. He was scared. He was exhausted and alone. All he wanted to do was go home.
There was no sleep. No rest. No escape. Home felt like a distant afterthought. More than anything, he wanted to be free of this torment, and there was only going to be one solution: a body.
It had only been two days. Maybe it was three. He didn’t know why it was so hard to tell the time when he saw the sun rise and set every day but he was slipping. He was losing his mind. Losing himself.
Desperation grew with every passing hour. He was hollowing out, turning into a husk of what he used to be. He needed a body. More than anything. And he was just about ready to go to any length to get one.
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Tanner snapped out of his reverie with a cold sweat running down the curve of his spine. “I-I can’t just let you take over my body! Is that what you want? My body?” he called out, not even entirely sure that Jerome would be able to hear him. “What would happen to me?”
Not that Tanner had expected one, but a response wasn’t forthcoming. Instead, the shock of cold that had gone through his body was replaced with a strange warmth that started to spread from the middle of his chest.
It was a deep heat that suffused every bone and muscle that it washed over. Mere moments later, Tanner was sweating more profusely than when he’d been running at his top speed. The heady warmth overtook his whole body, spreading to the very tips of his fingers, making every breath hot.
Tension coiled like a wound spring in the pit of Tanner’s stomach. Something was happening to his body but he couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. A strange sort of pressure was building up inside him, the sensation intense to the point of being uncomfortable.
Tanner felt like he was burning up from the inside. The heat rising from his body filled his head and made it impossible to think.
He fell to the ground on his hands and knees as his legs gave out from under him. He was starting to sweat like a pig, soaking through not just his shirt but his shorts, too. Dark splotches appeared in the soil as sweat dripped off his brow onto the ground.
Tanner felt a pang of panic as he watched his hands shift right in front of his eyes. His pale complexion darkened as his hands grew larger, his fingers growing longer and thicker while veins popped along the backs of his knuckles.
The transformation crept up his arm, darker skin washing over paler. The dread that he felt redoubled as he watched his bony forearms suddenly grow thick with muscle, a juicy vein climbing up along the back.
Tanner followed the transformation up his arms. His eyes grew wide as his biceps swelled. For the first time in his life, his upper arms filled his sleeves. In fact, as his triceps bulged with new mass, his arms didn’t just fill his sleeves, they stretched them.
A low groan escaped Tanner. His shoulders had always been narrow. He’d always had trouble with shirts that were too big just sliding off. Suddenly, he felt his shoulders moving. At first, it felt like someone was forcefully pinning them back, but then he felt them growing wider, and broader, finally filling out the shoulders of his shirt like they were meant to.
Tanner’s delts grew in, swelling with muscle to the point that they stretched his shirt across his shoulders. Between his new shoulders and new arms, he was almost afraid that his shirt would just explode off of his body, the stitching pushed beyond its limits.
Heat filled Tanner’s lungs as his traps started to grow in, too. He felt the collar of his shirt stretching as the sides of his neck bulked up. The shirt that had been loose on him when he started his run was suddenly skin-tight, at least around his upper body.
The transformation wasn’t done yet, though. The heat in Tanner’s lungs spread to his chest. New bulk packed onto where there was once only a flat, bony expanse. The front of his shirt swelled as all of a sudden, the sweat-soaked fabric was stretched taut over a pair of firm, muscular slabs welded on top of his breastbone.
The wet fabric clung to Tanner’s body like a second skin. It dipped into the cleft between his pecs, highlighting not just his cleavage but the striations of the corded muscle.
Despite his better judgment, Tanner couldn’t help but lean back. He sat on his feet and reached up to touch his chest. He’d only ever dreamed of having a rack so impressive so he was struggling to comprehend that this was real.
But the more that Tanner touched his new pecs, the more that he palmed, squeezed, and kneaded them with his own two hands, the more that he realized this was really happening. His body was changing. He was gaining the bulk that he’d always wanted.
Tanner’s cock twitched in his shorts. He could feel his stomach tightening up. He slid a hand up under the bottom hem of his shirt and barely managed to suppress the moan that came to his lips when he felt the start of abs etching themselves into his middle.
He hitched his shirt up to expose his belly. He brushed his fingers back and forth over the cobbled abs that had grown in. His cock twitched and leaked against his leg as his fingers dipped in and out of the ridges and crevices of his rock-hard washboard.
It was strange seeing his pastiness give way to a healthy dark complexion but as the transformation swept down past his waist, etching a pair of delicious Adonis lines that dipped past the waistband of his shorts, he could hardly complain.
Tanner watched his obliques grow in like ripples along his flanks. He felt his lats swell, rooting at his spine and then spreading out like a pair of wings that shoved his arms out and away from his body.
He groaned as his legs expanded, the skin on his thighs growing taut over sculpted quads. His hamstrings thickened and his glutes swelled. Suddenly, his running shorts seemed more like compression shorts, all but bursting at the seams to contain his new bulk.
Tanner staggered to his feet as his calves bulged with solid muscle. His shoes felt like vices clamped around his toes as he grew a handful of sizes bigger than he was meant to be.
His legs ached as the bones stretched and realigned. His vision swam as his perspective shifted. Suddenly, he was looking at the world from a whole new vantage point. It was just a few inches higher than he was used to but it still felt like he was suddenly standing at the top of a very tall tower.
Up until then, Tanner actually started to enjoy what was happening to him. Seeing the world from an entirely new perspective was like a shock of cold water to his system.
On one level, yes, he was getting the body that he’d always wanted, but it wasn’t exactly his body, now was it? It was Jerome’s body. He was the pasty, lanky white kid who would start tumbling down the street in a windstorm. He wasn’t meant to be this huge black stud, no matter how much he wished that he could be this big.
“No,” Tanner said, shaking his head as he clutched his temples. “I can’t do this. This isn’t right!”
He felt a strange warmth in his chest. He felt like Jerome was trying to calm him down. But how could he be calm? His body was being taken over. His life was being taken over. “This isn’t me. This isn’t me!”
The warmth that Tanner felt in his chest turned icy cold. His body jerked, his limbs bending in unnatural ways as the ghostly form of Jerome slowly started to separate from him.
Tanner didn’t fight it, even though Jerome was visibly trying to claw his way back. He resisted the urge to hold on to the body that he’d been given, feeling the muscles shrink back into his body as if they had never been there in the first place.
“Nooo!” came Jerome’s ghostly wail as he was expelled from Tanner’s body. The bonds between them snapped. The backlash was enough to send him flying backward through the air, his misty body slamming into a tree before scattering back into nothingness.
The moment he could move, Tanner ran like he’d never run before. His legs were flying as he thundered down the trail, his heart pounding in his ears as he tried to ignore the darkening forest around him.
He had to get away. That was the only thought in his mind. He had to run as far as he could, away from Jerome, away from the temptation.
Before he knew it, the forest was opening up again. The sunlight was streaming through the foliage. He hadn’t noticed how cold it had gotten in that darker part of the park until he felt the warmth of the day on his skin. Tanner was struggling to catch his breath when he ran into someone else coming down the trail, going the opposite way. It was a man walking his dog. They shared perfunctory greetings and suddenly, all felt right with the world.
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Tanner was safely home but his mind was still spinning from the encounter he’d just had in the woods. The adrenaline was still pumping in his veins.
He didn’t think he’d ever run so fast from anything in his life. The experience had been harrowing. Part of him couldn’t help but wonder if he’d just hallucinated all of it—if he’d accidentally breathed in some hallucinogenic spores or pollen and dreamed it all up.
That didn’t seem to be the case, though. Tanner’s clothes were looser than they were when he started his run, almost as if they’d been stretched out. More importantly, the stretching was uniform across his clothes. There was no rational explanation for that. If he’d just caught himself on a branch or something, then his clothes would have been more stretched in some places than others but that wasn’t the case here.
Tanner stumbled into the bathroom and whipped his sweat-soaked shirt off his body. His skin had returned to its usual pasty white, though the run had given him a bit of a healthier glow and a sheen of sweat-damp that accentuated what little definition he did have.
He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection. Compared to the body that Jerome’s possession had given him, what with all its muscles in all the right places, his lanky frame seemed almost…pathetic.
Tanner dreaded to think what might have happened if he’d allowed Jerome to fully take over his body but at the same time, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d maybe been a bit too hasty. He remembered the thrill of muscle growth, how the heat had filled his being so completely.
He licked his lips. He hadn’t sensed any real hostility from Jerome. And the encounter had gotten him the body he always wanted.
Looking at his own body in the mirror, Tanner felt a pang of regret. The opportunity had been there for the taking and he’d run away from it. Would it have really been so bad to let the ghost be a passenger in his body?
The more that he thought about it, the more Tanner was convinced that it wouldn’t have been bad at all. He flexed his arms but there was nothing there to flex. There was barely a bulge as his biceps contracted, compared to the guns that the possession had given him earlier.
Tanner recognized that it was probably a bad idea to go back but he wanted to be bigger so badly. He had just started out on his fitness journey. He had a long way to go, and he had no guarantee of results. On the other hand, he’d already had a taste of what Jerome could do for him.
That settled it. He couldn’t stomach the thought that he could put in all the hard work and make no progress. He had to go back. How bad could it be, anyway?
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The only thing Tanner did before heading back into the park was to change out of his old clothes. He was still wearing workout clothes, but ones that fit him better. He didn’t know why, it just felt right.
Somehow, he found that isolated trail much easier than before. It was almost as if the woods were waiting for him to come back. He had to admit, it was a bit eerie seeing the daylight dim, the shadows encroaching from the edges.
Tanner tried to ignore the instincts that were compelling him to run away before it was too late. He didn’t want to run away. He was determined, as bad of an idea as he knew this was going to be.
He did end up freezing up when he felt the temperature drop. He found himself unable to breathe or speak when the fog rolled in—when Jerome manifested in front of him again.
The specter regarded him for a moment. “Why…Come back…?”
Tanner gulped down his trepidation. “I… I had to,” he said. “I… I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened.”
“You…help me… I…help you…” said the ghost, its voice like the barest whisper of wind through the foliage.
“Q-quid pro quo, yeah,” said Tanner. His mouth felt dry and so did his throat. He was nervous as all hell but then again, he supposed that was only normal when negotiating with a ghost. “I—I can help you get out of here…But I want to be a stud like you.”
A brittle sound reminiscent of laughter seemed to echo through the misty visage of the ghost in front of Tanner. “That…can be…arranged…” said Jerome. “If you…don’t mind…becoming a hot…black…stud…”
Tanner’s cock twitched in his shorts. He didn’t know why the idea of that seemed so titillating. “I-I don’t mind at all,” he said. “I just want to be bigger.”
“It’s…a deal…then…” rasped Jerome’s ghost.
Tanner licked his lips and nodded. “Deal.” He’d barely finished saying the word when Jerome’s spectral form rushed into his body.
He sucked down a sharp breath, his chest spasming as he gasped for air. He felt like he’d been plunged headfirst into an icy river. The sensation was short-lived, at least, quickly replaced by that bone-deep heat that he’d felt the first time Jerome inhabited his body.
A low groan escaped Tanner as all the muscles he’d gained earlier returned to him. His shirt stretched, riding up on his navel as the perfect, studly physique grew on him.
The sound of seams popping filled the air as Tanner’s body swelled with even more muscle than the first time. A veritable shelf of meat stretched the front of his shirt to its breaking point while his upper arms thoroughly shredded the sleeves.
Sweat dripping down Tanner’s torso plastered the bottom part of his shirt on top of his abs. Jerome gave him a six-pack before, but this time he had an eight-pack. Not to mention the delicious Adonis belt and rippling obliques.
Tanner’s thighs bulged, his titanic quads and thick hamstrings tearing his running shorts up along the sides. Muscular glutes exploded out the back, those meaty cheeks tightening up as his calves swelled and his feet busted clean through his running shoes.
A low, bass growl rumbled through Tanner’s chest as he luxuriated in the feeling of his new muscles. He flexed his body and relished in the unholy noise of his clothes all but exploding off of his new form.
Tanner looked down at himself, admiring the rich dark complexion that had replaced his old pasty self. He felt his legs grow, just like his arms. He grew taller by at least half a foot—if not more—but this time he didn’t feel as disorientated by the new perspective.
He folded his arms over his chest—as much as he could, anyway, since the bulk of his new body made that a bit difficult to accomplish. He caressed his chin, surprised to find that even the shape of his jaw had changed.
If only he had a mirror, Tanner would have noticed that his features had changed. He was still recognizable, but he looked handsome. Studly. There was no denying just how masculine the set of his jaw made him look.
The messy unkempt hair that Tanner had had all his life had also gone. He discovered that when he realized that his scalp felt colder than before. He had a buzz—if he had to guess—but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. If anything, it felt weirdly sexy.
There was only one part left—the best part, saved for last. Tanner had never been the most well-endowed so what was between his legs was more modest compared to the rest of his new physique, but not for long.
His balls were the first to change. He used to be high and tight but his balls began to dangle as his sack grew heftier. Fuller.
Tanner suppressed a moan as he felt his nutsack swing for the first time between his legs. It got him half-hard, but his cock didn’t stop swelling. It snaked down his leg, the head brushing along the inside of his thigh as it grew longer and thicker, nearly reaching his knee.
It swelled as he stared at it, slowly rising to full mast as he realized just how sensuous his new body was. The cool air made his skin tingle and he couldn’t help but reach up and play with one of his nipples while his dominant hand wrapped around the girth of his new fat cock.
A low groan came to Tanner’s lips. His cock was huge and his nipples felt like they were wired straight to his dick. He stroked himself, growing hornier and more desperate as he moved his hand down from his nipple to explore all the contours of his new body.
Waves of horniness powerful enough to be overwhelming washed over Tanner as he pumped his big new dick. He had a veritable baseball bat between his legs. It looked huge enough flaccid, but it was downright intimidating erect. He couldn’t stop touching it.
Pleasure pounded through Tanner’s body as his fingers explored the ridges and valleys of his sculpted musculature. He could have stood next to a statue of a Greek god and fit right in.
Tanner moaned, his voice dropping an octave as the transformation finally ran its course. He didn’t hold back, either, letting the whole woods hear just how good he was feeling as he slid his hand up and down along the length of his shaft.
He hadn’t thought about how pent-up and horny Jerome might have been, being trapped in these woods for so long. Not that he was complaining. It felt fantastic. Every touch on his skin was electric, and every time he grazed one of the numerous erogenous zones on his new body, it was like an explosion of bliss in his head.
Tanner’s breathing grew ragged and shallow as he quickly approached the edge. He knew he could go all day playing with his big new cock but he really, really needed to bust a nut right now.
He wasn’t sure if that was Jerome’s desire or his, and he didn’t know if it even mattered. He could feel the load churning in his balls as his toes curled in the loamy forest soil.
Tanner grunted and groaned, pumping his dick while he thrust his hips into the loose ring of his fingers. He fucked his hand and moaned, holding nothing back as he enjoyed his new body, his new cock.
Pleasure pulsed and throbbed through his fat hog as pre-cum leaked freely from his tip. Every muscle in his body tensed. He teetered on the edge. “I’m gonna…” he moaned, trailing off as the pleasure reached a fever pitch.
A ghostly roar crept into Tanner’s voice as he swept past the point of no return. The very forest around him seemed to shake as he came hard. Ropes of thick white jism sailed through the air, reaching high enough to drape over the branches overhead as his body locked up from the sheer, rapturous bliss.
Shot after shot after shot blasted out of Tanner’s cock, his nuts bouncing as they emptied out a fat, pent-up load that must have been years in the making.
As he came down from his orgasm, Tanner felt a change in the very depths of his being. His soul and Jerome’s were merging, intertwining. They were still separate people, but they were going to be together forever now, passengers and pilots in a godly body, free to pursue whatever pleasure they desired.
Tanner licked his lips. He was so glad he’d chosen to come back. Deep down, he could tell that Jerome was glad, too.
It was just going to be awkward walking back home naked. Not that he was ashamed or anything. A body like the one Jerome had given him deserved to be shown off.
Tanner’s cock twitched. Actually, the thought of walking home naked was starting to become more and more appealing. He could already imagine the looks he would get, especially considering what he was packing between his legs now.
He heard a low, ghostly chuckle in his ear. “If the first thing…I did after being trapped here for so long…was to get laid… I don’t think…that I could complain…”
Tanner cracked a grin. “Then that’s what we’re gonna do, buddy,” he said. His new body seemed to have come with a new sense of confidence—but maybe that was just Jerome rubbing off on him. Either way, Tanner was eager to take his new body for a spin.
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Tanner ended up calling in an anonymous tip. The police found the body a few days later. The coroner determined that the cause of death was a ruptured aneurysm not long after that.
Jerome got the burial he deserved. It wasn’t much consolation for his family, but it was closure, at least.
Even though he’d only been gone for a month, Jerome decided not to go back with Tanner. There wasn’t much point, and he didn’t want to reopen his family’s wounds.
Jerome had gotten a new lease on life and he figured it was going to be for the best to just keep on looking forward. He could never get his old life back, so there was no point dwelling on it.
Tanner was on board with that. Having already taken his new body on, for lack of a better term, a “joyride,” he was eager to explore all the new pleasures that were in store for the both of them.
It was going to be weird, sharing his body with another person, but he was sure it was going to be alright. He and Jerome shared a type, it turned out, and nothing could bring two guys together quite like a tight hole.
Tanner’s phone—though he supposed it was their phone, now—dinged with a notification. He picked it up and read through the message, grinning to himself as he pulled down his shorts and snapped a dick pic.
It looked like they were going to get laid tonight. Of course, that meant they’d have to figure out who was going to be in the pilot seat. That wasn’t usually a problem but Tanner had a wicked little idea that he was sure Jerome would enjoy: they could swap every couple of thrusts.
The guy would be none the wiser, of course, but Tanner and Jerome would know, and Tanner felt like that was a hot prospect. Judging from the approval he was sensing through his bond with Jerome, he was pretty sure Jerome agreed.
