TIM’S P.O.V.
As you stare at the ceiling, you hear the doorbell buzzing. From your mother’s room, ‘Heather’ shouts, “Can you get that, honey? I’m a little busy.”
You sit up and shake your head, trying not to think what your mum is doing in there, you can hear some definitely suggestive groaning, and so walk downstairs quickly, eager for the distraction. As it turns out, the distraction is your friend Jimmy.
“Hey, Tim, my man, how’s it going?” he says, pushing past you when you open the door. He walks into the living room and plops himself down on the sofa before you can reply. Typical Jimmy.
“Going well,” you say, following after him. “And you?”
“Can’t complain, you know,” Jimmy grins, then looks at you. “Truthfully though, I came over here because of that math test we have tomorrow. Can’t get my head around quadratics, was hoping your sister could help?”
Of course, Jimmy would ask for math help today. Heather often helped the two of you with your math issues. The subject was a weak one for the both of you. But Heather wasn’t herself today.
“Uh, no can do,” you said. “She’s, um, not home right now.”
“Ah, that’s a pisser,” Jimmy said, leaning back in his seat. “Any idea when she’ll be back?”
“No idea,” you reply. “She’s gone to the mall and didn’t say how long she’d be.”
“Crap,” Jimmy sighed. “That was my last hope. Mr Jennings is going to kill me if I fail another test.”
The two of you sat in silence for a few moments.
“Ah, well,” Jimmy said, jumping to his feet. “Let’s go up to your room and play some FIFA.”
Your mind snaps back to your mother in your sister’s body and what she was probably doing upstairs.
“No!” you snap. Jimmy looks at you quizzically.
“I mean,” you say, comporting yourself a little. “I mean, we could go to the mall and try to find Heather. You know, the math test is serious news and all that, right?”
Jimmy looks at you lopsidedly before shrugging his shoulders.
“Yeah, no time for footie, I guess,” he says.
You grin manically, and practically push him out of the living room and toward the front door.
“Alright, alright,” Jimmy says, laughing. “I get the picture, let’s hurry.”
Just as you open the front door, the two of you hear a loud, drawn-out moan coming from upstairs. You look at the back of Jimmy’s head. He slowly turns and on his face is an undisguised, lecherous grin, running from ear to ear.
“Was that your mum, Tim?”
You shudder and push him out the door as he laughs. Great, now you have this to deal with for the next few hours. As you walk away from your house, you look back, ignoring Jimmy’s disgusting jokes and comments, and see a silhouette outlined in your mum’s window. You turn back quickly and head toward the mall with Jimmy.
MEANWHILE, IN REBECCA’S ROOM (REBECCA’S P.O.V.)
You felt great. Heather’s body was so much more energetic than yours. Part of it was down to age, of course, but Heather was also a star of the track and field club at her school. You entered your bedroom, locking the door behind you, and then walking over to your cheval mirror. You smirked as you see your daughter’s reflection looking back at you. Her face is quite similar to your own, but her body is very different. You were always very curvy whilst Heather, well, she’s not stick thin, but you poke at your new, taut stomach. You lift up her shirt and inspect your stolen body. You feel a twinge of guilt as your hands explore, but it’s gone in seconds. You move away from the mirror and head over to the bed.
“No, I shouldn’t,” you mumble quietly to yourself. But you can’t help yourself. You grin as you clamber onto the bed, kicking your pants off in the process. You lean over the side of the bed and pull a box out from underneath it. You open it with nervous fingers.
“Oh my,” you say in mock surprise. “Are these ‘mum’s’ vibrators?! How disgusting! I can’t believe my ‘mum’ has anything like this!”
You chuckle at the roleplay, then get back into character.
“I’d better put them away, before she finds out that I’ve found them,” you say in a perfect imitation of your daughter’s tone of voice.
“Still…. how naughty would it be to use them without her knowing?” you giggle.
You pick out your favourite, the vibrant, metallic purple monstrosity glistens as you hold it up, testing its weight. You slip your panties off and start massaging between your legs. Lightly tracing the fingers of your free hand across the lips there. Heather’s body immediately reacted. You knew that your daughter had something of a repressed sexual appetite, but it seems she had been very, very pent up. A small breeze could have set this off. You looked at your fingers and saw that they were already coated in juices.
“Fuck,” you said, grinning slightly as you cursed. Heather never cursed.
“Imagine what it’s going to be like when I actually put something in there,” you smirk.
You go back to tracing and then you slip in one finger, two. You drop the vibrator and stuff your hand into your mouth to try and stifle your groans. You move your fingers in. Out. In. Twist. Out.
“Jesus,” you gasp. “Heather, what the fuck. This is…way too easy.”
Three fingers. Four. No. Too much. Back to three.
You extract your fingers and moan. You look over at the vibrator you’d dropped earlier. Just as you reach over for it, you hear the doorbell buzzing.
Annoyed, you yell to Tim, “Can you get that, honey? I’m a little busy.”
After a few seconds, you hear Tim’s bedroom door open and scurrying footsteps as he practically sprints downstairs.
You grin as you get back to what you were doing. You pick up the vibrator and smile as you twist it, powering it on. It purrs into life, and you close your eyes. You lower it between your legs, and then, gently, work it against the lips. As it touches your skin, you feel a tremble somewhere in your lower back and your arse twitches. Your mind goes blank as you slowly slide it in. Bit by bit. Teasing. Exploring new lands as waves of pleasurable lightning shoot up your spine and down your legs. You hear someone moaning, louder and louder, nearby and it takes more than a few moments to realise that it’s you. Finally, you let out one long, loud, drawn-out groan as your whole-body heaves as you come. Vaguely, you’re aware of the front door of the house opening and someone laughing outside, but you can’t pay attention.
You lay there for a few moments, completely spent. Then, you roll over and open your bedside cabinet. You take out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter and fish one from the packet. You push yourself up into a sitting position and put the cigarette between your lips, lighting it and taking a deep drag. You cough and sputter and feel incredibly ill. You immediately remove the cigarette from your mouth and fight the urge to throw up.
“I forgot that I’m in Heather’s body,” you groan as the mood spoils. You stand up and walked over to the window. You pushed your hand through the curtains and opened the window. You stood there as you took a second, smaller drag, coughing slightly.
“Tut tut, Heather,” you laugh. “First you stole mummy’s vibrator, and now you’re stealing her cigarettes. Whatever next?”
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