With that, Ellen began to walk out of the kitchen, a devious smile planted on the face her her new body. "Nana! What the hell are you doing?!" Pete demanded as the two stepped into Becky's room and Ellen closed the door. She smiled at him as the walked over to the mirror in Becky's room and began examining herself. "Why, I'm enjoying my new body, Pete," she said as she ran her hands all over herself. She seemed to have particular fun groping Becky's boobs, smashing them together and letting them rise and fall.
"Nana, would you stop that! It's weird . . . " Pete said, finding the very idea of such a sight disconcerting. "Pete, this body is not classically beautiful. She's got a pretty face, but she could stand to miss a meal or two," Ellen explained as she disappeared into a closet, "and that's just the way I remember her." A couple minutes passed as Pete stood in the room while Ellen's possessed vessel fiddled about in the closet. Pete could hear elastic bands snapping into place, as well as the occasional grunt from Ellen's new body.
After a bit of grunting and snapping and tossing clothes about, the possessed Becky emerged from the closet. The young woman who emerged wore a very tight-fitting skirt that made it only about half way down her thigh--quite high in those days. Farther up, her shirt revealed a small pouch of extra skin in her belly--the bit of extra pudginess Ellen had referred to. The most striking feature, though, was the all-important girls. This is to say that Ellen had picked a very tight-fitting, button-down blouse that struggled to contain her bouncing, jiggle-prone boobs--boobs struggling against the fabric of the shirt as they were shoved up just under her chin and struggling mightily to stay out of her top. "So I have to accentuate the assets I do have," Ellen concluded as she motioned to her mighty cleavage.
Pete's jaw dropped as he saw what Ellen had done to Becky's body. "Like what you see, Pete?" she said. "Ah--the--well . . . the . . . um--" he said, pointing awkwardly in the direction of his grandmother's vessel. "Boobs?" Ellen said, blurting out the word Pete had been reaching for. "Yes," he nodded, relieved someone had stopped his stuttering, "they're impressive." Ellen smiled somewhat quizzically. She sat herself upon the bed, perpetuating a delightful jiggle in her chest. "So grandson," she began, "we've never really talked about this before I don't think, but I'm curious--what turns you on? What do you like?"
Pete blushed. It was strange to discuss this with one's grandmother under any circumstances. It was all the more weird to do so when said grandmother was inhabiting the body of a busty, scantily clad young woman from her own past. "And be honest now," Ellen commanded.
Pete took a deep breath. "To be honest, lots of women can be beautiful, but I'm partial to redheads. I don't know why it is . . . black hair is pretty too. And really, I know the sort of classically beautiful woman, at least in a lot of people's minds, is a toned body attached to a big set of boobs, and I am a boob man--don't get me wrong--but I think a body that's too toned is a problem, really. I mean, I'm not saying women should be slobs, but I don't want to fuck a woman who looks so muscular that she could kick my ass . . . it's a turn-off. No, I like a woman with a bit of extra weight--just a bit. Not enough to be fat, but enough to be curvy. When I slap her on the ass, there should be a little jiggle and when she walks, there should be some bounce in her tits. If what it takes is a full, voluptuous body to give me those things, then I'll fuck that body indeed. And the thing is that the bodies I'm talking about tend to belong to women who are either in or nearing middle age . . I suppose their bodies change in their thirties and forties to provide a bit of extra bounce and make the curves a bit more pronounced, and an older woman with those things can be really hot. At least that's how I feel about it," Pete concluded.
What the hell? Had Pete just said all that? Really? Pete loved his grandma, but he would never be that graphic in answering that question. Talking about what turned him on physically with his grandma would never cross his mind. Why had he said all that? It was as though he could not stop himself. She he needed to be honest, and out came all that!
Pete gulped and blushed as much as any man ever could. He looked up at Ellen, or at least at the body Ellen now occupied. She was surprised too--her eyes wide with surprise and her face bearing a smile she sought to hold back but couldn't. She blushed too. "Well, um, thank you, Pete," she began, not sure what to say to all that. "I didn't mean to answer that way," Pete said, suddenly very self-conscious. Ellen tilted her head. "Then why did you answer so . . . " she began. "I don't know," he said, cutting her off.
"I think I might know," Ellen said, a devious smile crossing her face. "Pete, jump up and down," she said plainly. "Why would I--" Pete began, and then he suddenly found himself jumping into the air and coming back down. He did this three times before Ellen ended it. "Stop," she said, and he did. Pete was getting scared now. "What's happening, Nana?" he asked, fear in his voice.
"I think I know how the spell worked--the magic," she said, her mind seeming to turn over with possibilities. She crossed her arms over her host's magnificent boobs and took a deep breath to explain. "The kiss from you activated the magic that sent us here. I did it so that I could be young again and could find love . . . and I think I know why you're here," she said. "Why?" Pete asked.
"You help me find what I want," she said. "I'll bet you can posses people too. If you can, you can be my wing-man. If it comes to that, I can even order you into a body and just tell you to fuck me . . . I seem to be able to make you do whatever I tell you to do," Ellen pondered. Pete shuttered at the thought. This could be terrible.
"Nana, we've got to find a way to get home. I need to get back to my body, and you need to get back to yours. We all love you just the way you are," Pete pleaded. Ellen just shook her head. "I need to find a good man," she declared, "and you will help."
Becky's possessed body began to strut sexily out of the bedroom toward the kitchen. She motioned with her finger for Pete to follow her, and he found himself doing so without intending to. The two walked into the kitchen where Becky's buxom mother Margret labored over a stove brimming with food. "Becky, I could have sworn I heard you talking to someone in your room . . . are you having friends over or something?" Margret asked. Ellen just smiled. "Yeah," she began, "but that's not something you need to know about."
Margret turned around, confusion and anger on her face. "Excuse me, young lady, but his is my house, and I'm fine letting you have friends over, but you will pay me the respect I deserve and--" she began angrily. "No," Ellen replied.
Margret widened her eyes as a look of increasing anger crossed her face. She slammed the spoon down into the bowl on the stove and began to walk toward her daughter, or at least toward the person inside her daughter's body. "What?!" the woman demanded as she quickly approached Becky, her own boobs bouncing about inside her tight-fitting blouse. "You heard me," Ellen said, "I won't respect you, and you won't be doing anything about it," she said, a defiant smile crossing her face. Margret was really boiling now. "Becky Marie, I will not allow you to talk to me that way!" she yelled. "It's not going to be up to you," Ellen declared.
Ellen stuck out her host's hand in Pete's direction. Suddenly, Pete felt a strange sensation sneak through his body. Becky brought her hand up a little bit, and Pete's jaw dropped as his ghost-like body levitated off the ground. "Nana, what are you doing?!" he screamed, fearful of what would come next. "Night night mommy," Ellen declared as she quickly threw her arm in the direction of her oblivious mother.
Pete suddenly felt his astral-like form sailing through the air toward Margret as she bubbled over with rage at her disrespectful daughter. As he neared the buxom, middle-aged woman, his body did not crash into hers. Instead, it merged with her. Pete felt his body fly into hers as his form seemed to force its way into her mouth. Pete felt himself travel down her throat and into her belly as his essence filled out every crevice of her luscious body. Margret gagged, shook, and spasmed as she felt herself losing control, but she could not fight much.
Margret toppled roughly and ungracefully to the floor, her jiggle-prone boobs bouncing mightily with the impact, and she passed out, and Pete too was overcome by darkness.
Pete's eyes fluttered open as he awakened. He moaned a little bit at the pain in his head, and his voice sounded strange. "Wha--" he began, and that voice definitely sounded off. Pete quickly brought his hand to his mouth in amazement, only to find that it too was different--dainty, and a bit older. What Pete saw next was really amazing. Pete beheld two gigantic mounds of flesh protruding from his chest. They were huge from this angle--Pete had boobs! "Oh my God," he said as he reached up and poked at the mounds, sending waves of pleasure through his new body. He could see a few strands of long, dark hair out of the corners of his eyes.
"Like those, do you--Mom?" came the voice of Ellen's host as she stood over him. "What did you do--" Pete started. "I put you in Margret's body. I'm going to go out and find a man to bring home. You cook dinner and wear something sexy for when I come back," she said. With that, Ellen turned and left Pete lying on the floor in the kitchen--inside the body of a curvy, middle-aged woman named Margret.
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