It was a crisp fall day when Christine Henderson arrived home from work. She was later than usual, but for good reason. She had been catching up with a friend she hadn't seen in a very long time. And they had made plans to get together and catch up, and drag their husbands along with them. Christine knew her husband, Peter, would not like this change of plans at all. It disrupted their nightly routine of the past couple months of fucking each other silly.
Despite the fact that they were an old married couple, they were enjoying a resurgence in their sex life. This was made easier by the fact that they were also body hoppers, and were exploring new kinks they had long shunned. In this case, they were regularly hopping the bodies of a mother and son that lived across the street from them.
Peter hadn't been able to get enough of their neighbors. The taboo nature of using their bodies to satiate their desires had not grown stale. Usually they'd have grown bored, but that had not been the case.
Every day, as soon as they both got home from work, they would shed their clothes and become an ethereal mist. They'd float across the street, and take over the mother and son that lived there. Then they would act perfectly normal. The mother would talk about her work at a bank downtown. The son would talk about his college classes he'd attended that day. But during a meal or an activity, there would be subtle flirting that would turn into not so subtle flirting. Eventually clothes would be removed, or sometimes torn off. And before the night was over, the mother and son would have engaged in hot, hot incest.
Night after night after night this was their pattern. And when Christine walked into her kitchen that day, she saw that her husband was already in mist form, ready to go.
"Peter, I'm sorry," Christine sighed. "There's been a change of plans tonight. We've got a dinner date."
Christine watched as the mist swayed back and forth.
"It couldn't be helped," she said. "I ran into Diane Shiplee today at lunch. You remember the Shiplees?"
She knew darn well he did. They used to be their dearest friends. Still, he handled this news about as well as she expected. She watched the mist sway back and forth and spin around.
"Oh don't be like that," Christine argued. "You used to love it when I'd hop Diane so you could play with her big tits. We might have never stopped if they hadn't gotten pregnant."
The mist continued to spin and whirl and throw a mini tantrum.
"Oh yes," Christine exclaimed. "I remember your big tit phase. You wanted me to hop whoever had the biggest pair in the room. And quite often that was Diane."
The mist began moving up and down in the air.
"Stop it, Peter," Christine said frustratedly. "I can't understand you. You'll have to rematerialize."
The mist hung there for a few seconds, not moving in the slightest.
"Now, please!" Christine demanded.
The mist began to swirl about, and began to take the shape of a man. A few seconds later, where the mist had been, stood an older, pudgy man in his sixties without a stitch of clothes on him. As soon as he could speak, he started complaining.
"No! Not tonight! You can't be serious! We've got a good thing going here. You said so yourself last night."
Christine helped turn him in the direction of the stairs, "Yes, I know dear. But that also means we haven't had a social life in two months. People will think we've died or joined a cult. Besides, we probably need to give Sara and Mark a break, don't you think. Let them have a normal, sex free night as mother and son. Now go put something nice on."
Peter followed his wife into their bedroom in full pout. "I don't see why we have to visit the Shiplees. We haven't seen them in ages."
"You used to love the Shiplees! And I'm not just talking about Diane's tits. You and Greg always got along so well. You'd talk about, uh, whatever it is that got you two all fired up."
"Model trains."
Christine chose a shirt from his closet and handed it to him. "Really? Trains? But you don't have any model trains. Or any other kind of models?"
"I know, but it's still fascinating. He was working on creating a whole village. He let me run it one time, you know."
"How very nice of him. Now get these pants on and let's go. Dinner's in thirty, and we need to stop and pick up a bottle of wine before we get there."
Peter looked at the pants with distrust, as if by putting them on he was accepting this dinner party that had been forced upon him. "Are we going to hop them and screw?"
Christine put her hands on her hips. "If you want to, I suppose..."
"They're almost as old as we are!"
"We've still got them beat by a good ten years."
"Do you want to have sex as someone in your late forties, early fifties?" Peter asked wryly.
"I mean, we've had sex in each others bodies this last week, so..."
"Not what I asked," Peter said. "And we've had the help of a surge to our libido. I bet Greg and Diane do it only once or twice a month by now."
Christine rolled her eyes as she watched her husband take forever to put his pants on. "We don't have to hop the."
"Well then let's blow them off so we can hop the neighbors," Peter begged. "Mark's dick gets so hard when he sticks it in his mommy's pussy."
"If you stop complaining, maybe tomorrow I'll have Mommy put on a nurse's outfit and see if her big man needs to stay home from college classes tomorrow."
With that incentive, the pants were on, and they got out the door less than a minute later.
The Shiplees had been friends. Good friends. But in the business of life and career, both couples had drifted apart over time. The real nail in the coffin of their relationship though, had happened nineteen years ago when Diane had given birth to twins, a boy and a girl.
Peter and Christine were happy for them, of course. But kids were a sore spot, as Peter and Christine had been unable to have any of their own. Christine was there for Diane through the first trimester, but then started distancing herself out of self preservation. When their twins, Aiden and Ally were born, it had been all too easy to cut the cord on them entirely.
Part of what appealed to Christine about reconnecting now was the fact that the kids had graduated and gone to a college out of state. Christine had been able to skip that whole part of their life. Now she could hopefully pick up where they had left off in their friendship. They could focus on being almost retirees together.
After a thirty minute drive across town, the Hendersons parked in front of the Shiplees' house. Peter and Christine were reminded of how long it had been, as they took in the front lawn. Several decorative items had been added to the landscape. A fountain, some gnomes, several flowers, none of which had been there all those years ago. As they got out of their cars, they had a moment where they weren't sure which entrance to use. Good friends didn't come in the front door, but circled around to the back door. After a moment's hesitation, Peter led his wife to the front door, and rang the bell.
Greg and Diane Shiplee both answered the door with huge smiles plastered on their faces. They were ushered the Hendersons inside, where Christine and Diane immediately hugged and complimented each other's attire. Peter and Greg shared a firm handshake and with an expression that conveyed it had been too long. As they went further into the house, Peter and Christine sized up the Shiplees.
Christine noted that Greg seemed to have grown handsomer over the years. She wondered if he still had the stamina of a young man. Probably not, but she'd be willing to let her husband hop him and see.
Peter saw that children and gravity had not been kind to Diane's breasts. They seemed much lower than he remembered. That was the problem of having children. The way they could ruin works of art like that. If asked though, he still wouldn't mind getting his hand, or his mouth on them. That wouldn't be a hard sell, as he had seen his He still would like to get his hands on them. And the way he noticed his wife sizing up Greg, he bet she wouldn't at all mind getting her hands on Greg's dick. She'd probably be disappointed by Greg's stamina nowadays though.
Peter and Christine shared a look and a playful smile while they moved through the house with their old friends. It was a look that said they would most definitely hop them soon and get down to fucking. For them, it would be like putting on an old, reliable coat, or jeans that were contoured to your waist. Fucking in their bodies would be enjoyable, and comfortable. They were already thinking past the casual conversation, the evening meal, and the long goodbye with plans to see each other soon. Their imaginations had skipped straight to the moment they were alone in their vehicle out front. The moment they became mist and floated back into the house to take over the Shipplees. That's when the real catching up would begin.
But those plans were derailed as they made their way into the dining room. There were two extra place settings. And before they could ask why, the answers walked in from the adjoining kitchen.
A lovely brunette that was the spitting image of her mother didn't look up from her phone as she asked, "Can we eat yet?"
"Ally, you know..." Diane started, but Christine didn't hear the rest. Why was Ally here? She was supposed to be in college. Diane had mentioned that they were both in college earlier that day.
"I'm sorry," Christine said abruptly, trying not to stare daggers at the beautiful but sulky teen. "I thought Ally was away at college."
"Not during fall break, she's not," another voice said. It belonged to a tall, handsome boy that had strolled into the room. He looked like the teen version of his father, but without an ounce of fat on him. "This smells great Mom. Can we tuck in?"
"It's buffet style," Diane said to Peter and Christine. Then with a look at her son, she said, "And our guests go first. Please bring them their plates."
The twins did, then quickly fell in line behind the Hendersons. Peter and Christine filled their plates and went to sit at the table. Christine was wondering if they should make an excuse and leave. Peter was wondering how he had gone so long without Diane's cooking. It was even better than he remembered. When Greg mentioned his model trains and how he'd have to show Peter his completed village in the basement, Christine knew there was no chance of leaving early. She decided to make the most of it and tried to engage the twins in casual conversation.
