Never Suspected a Thing

Earl trudged into his cubicle and dropped his tattered briefcase on the floor before sinking heavily into his squeaky chair. His legs ached from the short walk from the car to his desk, a consequence of his bad knees, his heavy gut and his age. Fifty six today. The start of another year of being fat, balding and single. Jesus. Of course, no one at the office had said anything about his birthday despite the hints he'd dropped. There were no little presents on his desk as there had been for Tracey, or Liam, or, well, everyone else.

Earl booted up his computer and opened his email. He saw a message from HR with the subject: Happy Birthday!

At least they'd remembered. He clicked on the email and his face fell as he read the message:

It's Katie Pollinger's birthday today so stop by the lunch room for some cake and be sure to give her some birthday wishes!

(And not too much work!)

Earl sighed and popped another Tums. Maybe it was just as well there was no cake for him. His stomach had been acting up all morning. Plus, his doctor had told him he needed to lose weight. Because of that, Earl had made a new habit of not going to his doctor.

Earl heard the noise of one of the office doors being unlocked behind him and he swiveled his chair around to see Tracey's backside. Her black skirt clung to her beautifully rounded bottom. Her exaggerated hourglass figure was a sight to behold, even from behind. And speaking of behind, wow, did Earl wish he could give hers a squeeze.

"Morning, Tracey," he said, falsely chipper.

She turned and shot him a strained smile. "Morning, Earl."

Tracey had a cute, slightly plump face with a delicate slip of a nose, huge green eyes and wavy golden-brown hair that fell in waves down her shoulders. Her massive, perfect breasts were nestled comfortably beneath the v-neck of a dark purple top. Man, what Earl wouldn't give to get his hands on those sweater puppies. On many nights he'd masturbated just imagining thrusting his face between her jiggly tits and motor-boating her before emptying his load onto her chest, drenching her in his hot seed.

It was as much spite as lust. Yeah, she was good looking. But she'd beaten him out for the promotion and had moved into the office that should have been Earl's. She had everything Earl did not: a good family, a good job, a good body. With any luck, though, all that would change. He was gripped with a sense of excitement and anticipation as he reached down and nervously fingered his briefcase that held the supposedly magic bowl.

Tracey disappeared into her office and Earl pulled out the bowl. It was a plain looking thing, glazed white on the inside with some sort of Chinese writing in blue around the outside. The old man who'd sold it to him at the antique shop swore it had magic powers and would allow the owner to swap bodies with whoever drank from it. A part of Earl wondered why, if it was real, the old man didn't keep it and give himself a new body. A bigger part didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth and hoped with all his might that the man had been telling the truth. Either way, Earl would find out today.

Just yesterday Earl had overheard Tracey talking to her co-workers, telling them her kids were at camp and her husband was away on business so she had the house to herself. If the magic worked, it would be a perfect opportunity to adjust to her life before her family came back. Earl was tingling with excitement at the thought of squeezing her breasts and having his way with her body, though even that excitement wasn't enough to affect his limp dick. He pushed the excitement down and picked up the phone.

By the time lunch rolled around, the big pot of soup Earl had special ordered from the little Asian food shop down on the corner had been delivered. He'd set up some spoons and bowls beside it--keeping the magic bowl with him--and stood in the lunch room, making sure everyone knew it was his birthday and he was providing lunch for the office as a special treat. His co-workers felt bad for forgetting and even HR vowed to update their records. Earl magnanimously waved their apologies away because, fuck it, if this worked none of this would matter anyway.

By the end of the lunch hour, Earl was running out of soup and Tracey had yet to show up. Earl scooped the remains into the magic bowl and carried it to Tracey's office.

"Knock knock!" he called out as he entered, "I brought some special birthday soup."

Tracey was at her desk, her head down as she pored over some papers. She looked up at him and he caught the quick flicker of disgust across her face before she smiled.

"Thanks, Earl, but I'm not really a soup fan."

Earl was undeterred. He placed the bowl on her desk and stared from his vantage point down the neck of her dress, following the rounded curves of her tits until they disappeared into the darkness beneath her top, pillowy and inviting. "Just take a taste, you'll love this."

"No, really, thank you."

"Eat the soup."

"I said no."

"Eat the goddamn soup!" Earl slammed his meaty hand on the desk and she jumped in her seat, staring up at him with fear in her wide eyes. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some of his co-workers staring through the open glass windows of Tracey's office. Earl didn't care. He was committed now. He leaned over Tracey, menacingly, threatening her with his ample bulk. "Just taste it." He said.

With trembling fingers Tracey lifted the bowl to her lips and sipped. The instant she swallowed the world seemed to flip around Earl. Suddenly, he was sitting in the chair holding a bowl of soup to his lips and staring up at his own fat face. He watched his old body stagger back in shock, the hands flying up to his eyes, then down his sluggish body.

Earl placed the bowl on the desk and sat back in his executive chair. He glanced down long enough to see Tracey's perfect tits beneath him, then laced his fingers together and looked up at Tracey as she adjusted to her new body.

"What did you do?" Tracey screeched. God, did his voice always sound so nasally?

Looking at himself from within Tracey's banging body, he could see that the doctor had been right. He did need to lose weight. And possibly get a toupee.

"What are you talking about, Earl?" He replied.

She advanced on him in his chair and he drew back, afraid for the first time, aware of how delicate his new body felt compared to the bulk closing in on him. His old face was red with rage, eyes bulging. Earl scrambled back and yelled out:

"Help! Earl, what are you doing?"

Earl's ample bottom hit the window as a few of his co-workers rushed in and grabbed Tracey to subdue her. She fought as they tried to restrain her, but not for long. Earl's out-of-shape body didn't have any stamina and she was soon out of breath and crying, blubbering to her co-workers about stolen bodies and telling them that she was the real Tracey. She made it quite easy for Earl. All he had to do was not act crazy.

Security showed up, followed soon after by the police. Earl's old body was led out the door, still wailing and sniffling about what had happened. There was talk that Earl had cracked. The real Earl suspected he wouldn't see Tracey for a very long time, if ever. Good riddance to a horrible body.

Tracey's boss gave him the rest of the day off to recover and Earl gratefully accepted, acting rattled all the way down to the parking garage until he was alone in Tracey's Mercedes. Then he laughed, Tracey's gorgeous laughter filling the car. His car. His body. His life.

The car purred to life and Earl used her sat-nav to guide him back towards her place. He couldn't wait to get home. He didn't wait to get home. At the first stop light he grasped the neck of his dress in his manicured fingers and pulled the fabric down, then popped one tit out and stared at it, so close to his face. His new breast was heavy and warm and solid in his hand. He ran Tracey's fingers across his sensitive skin, watched the fat pink nipple rise up at his touch. Already, his body was humming at the thoughts of what he would do to himself.

He felt eyes on him and looked to his left. The two guys in the car next to him--college aged guys by the look of them--were staring over at Earl, watching him fondle his breast. He smiled at them, then brought his tit to his mouth and wrapped his lips around his nipple, flicking with his tongue and letting his hot breath play across his skin. The two guys stared in absolute lust and Earl felt Tracey's body growing wet.

The light turned green and Earl dropped his tit and peeled off, laughing once more. He could already feel himself soaking through his skirt. Lose and tight at the same time, his body yearning for touch.

Earl pulled into the garage and, as soon as the car was stopped, yanked off his top and flipped the cups of his bra down, freeing Tracey's mammoth breasts. They were even more beautiful up close. The skin rippled and jiggled perfectly as he bobbled them. Earl had lusted after these tits for so long and now they were his. He took them in each hand, the flesh spilling out of his fingers, and eagerly sucked one, then the other, letting his tongue taste Tracey's salty skin, letting his teeth graze her sensitive nipples.

He shuffled his butt up enough to unzip his skirt and pull it down. Earl stared down at his feminine lap, the smooth, luscious thighs tapering to the emptiness between his legs. The tiny strip of coarse brown pubic hair leading down towards his new sex. He spread his legs, saw his pussy already opening and wet for himself.

With one hand still tweaking his tit he slid the other down to his slit. He pressed lightly inside himself, watched his finger sink into Tracey's cunt. A sigh escaped his lips as he found her bulging clit and began rubbing. Softly at first, but quickly growing harder, faster, until within a matter of minutes his whole hand was pressed hard against his sopping wet pussy, his fingers dug into his fat breasts and he was moaning. Tracey's moans grew to cries, filling the interior of the car as his soaking wet fingers urged the pleasure through him, pulsing and pulsing until he arched his back and came. Pleasure exploded through him, arcing out from between his legs and filling his entire form, deep and long, not at all like the quick hit from when he was a man. His whole body was awash in orgasm and he continued his long, loving strokes even as he slowly came down.

The musky smell of his pussy filled his nostrils as he lay his head back against the car seat and sighed. "Oh, fuck, Tracey" he said, luxuriating in the sound of her voice from his own lips, "I'm going to love stealing your life."

Earl had all week to learn about Tracey. And when her husband and her kids came back, they never suspected a thing.