A week later...

It's been a week. John's fucking me over the windowsill of the second story bedroom as I stare at my house.

John never left the house, and he's been groping, asking me to blow him every chance he gets. I do the cooking, the laundry, the chores, all of which is a pain. But it's often just forgotten and sloppily done as John comes in while I'm about to do it. I try to have my alone time, a perfect time to take off my suit and go back to being me. Going back to my parents and regretting that i even found that stupid remote in the first place.

I don't though. Instead I'm filed as a missing person. Poster came by mail today and John brought it in from the mailbox. My mom dropped by earlier and asked if I've seen me. If John's seem me. I'm about to reply, tell her the truth that I'm her son, just trapped in a body of Mrs. Allison when John comes over and puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Sorry, ma'am. We haven't seen him. I've only gotten home last week and Reagan here barely leaves the house."

Ten minutes later, he's already fucking me on the counter. I grit my teeth at the mind-numbing sensation of John showing the love for Reagan, and I'm still terrified by his monstrous girth. Despite starting to get used to the sensation of being fucked, I'm terrified about the fact that I'm starting to love it.

After all, a pussy is apparently more sensitive than a cock is, and shoving one in shoots an entire electricity shock of bliss through my entire body.

I feel another load in my pussy, and I shudder as John pulls out, cooing as I burst into another orgasm.

But the good thing is, John's leaving for work tomorrow... Hopefully I can take the suit off and be gone for good. Going back to my normal life.