No, return to your own body

You stir beside Scout's sleeping form, gently extracting yourself from her embrace. Her arm slides away as you sit up on the edge of the bed, your borrowed body tingling with lingering pleasure and newfound purpose.

"Mmm, where you going?" Scout mumbles, her eyes fluttering open to find you standing and gathering your clothes.

"I need some air," you say, slipping Vanessa's dress over her head without bothering to find her underwear. "Too hot in here."

Scout props herself on one elbow, hair tousled and eyes heavy with satisfied exhaustion. "It's almost one in the morning, Chen. Stay."

You lean down and brush your lips against hers. "I've got early practice. Coach would kill me if I showed up sleep-deprived."

"But it's Friday," she protests weakly.

"Recovery session," you lie with practiced ease, stepping into Vanessa's heels. "I'll text you."

Before she can argue further, you slip out the door, leaving her tangled in sheets that smell of sex and sweat. Vanessa's black lace underwear remains discarded on Scout's floor—a deliberate souvenir of tonight's exploration.

The campus is hushed at this hour, streetlamps casting pools of amber light across empty walkways. You walk with purpose toward the central quad, the cool night air raising goosebumps on Vanessa's bare legs beneath her dress. The sensation reminds you how different this body feels—smaller, lighter, with nerve endings that respond uniquely to every stimulus.

Reaching the heart of campus, you find yourself alone in the moonlit quad. The administration building looms to your right, its clock tower illuminated against the night sky. The fountain at the center burbles quietly, water glistening in the moonlight.

"Thanks for the ride, Vanessa," you whisper to yourself, feeling the strange dual consciousness that comes with possession—you're both yourself and her, occupying the same space for just a little longer.

You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation of being in this borrowed body one final time—the weight of her hair against your neck, the press of her breasts against the fabric of her dress, the slight ache between her legs from hours with Scout. You grab her breasts, relishing in how they feel with no bra on, and squeeze her ass, growing aroused at the idea of Vanessa regaining consciousness without any panties on.

Then you concentrate, pulling inward with the same mental muscle you've developed over years of practice. The night air seems to compress around you as you feel the familiar tug—like being yanked backward through a tunnel—as your consciousness detaches from Vanessa's form.

As your consciousness detaches from Vanessa's body, you experience a strange sensation—like floating in a dimensionless void. You've never tried to linger in this in-between state before, always rushing back to your body. But tonight, curiosity compels you to maintain this ethereal presence.

Vanessa gasps as awareness floods back into her. Her eyes flutter wildly, hands flying to her face as she reorients herself. She stands alone in the central quad, the fountain's gentle splashing the only sound besides her increasingly panicked breathing.

"What the..." she whispers, looking down at herself. Her fingers clutch the unfamiliar black dress, pulling at the material as if it might explain itself. "How did I...?"

Vanessa spins in place, her bare legs prickled with goosebumps from the night air. You watch, fascinated, as she reaches down, running a hand beneath her dress to confirm what she already suspects.

"Oh my god," she breathes, eyes widening. "Where are my...?"

She fumbles in the small purse hanging from her shoulder, extracting her phone with trembling fingers. The screen illuminates her confused face: 1:05 AM.

"The game," she murmurs, scrolling frantically through notifications. "We won? I don't remember...any of it."

She stands frozen for several long moments, her face cycling through emotions—confusion, fear, then something more complex. She touches her lips, then her thighs, brow furrowing.

"Did I...?" She shakes her head, disbelieving. "Who was I with?"

Vanessa looks around again, as if searching for witnesses or clues, before her expression hardens with resolve. She straightens her shoulders and begins walking purposefully toward Edison Hall, her heels clicking against the concrete.

"Get it together, Chen," she mutters to herself. "Figure this out tomorrow."

You feel a tug toward your own body, still waiting in the athletics building. The disembodied state grows increasingly uncomfortable, like a rubber band stretched to its limit. You allow yourself to snap back, consciousness rushing through darkness until you slam back into your familiar form.

You gasp awake on the bench, the janitor's blanket sliding to the floor as you bolt upright. Your muscles ache from hours of inactivity, but your mind buzzes with the afterglow of Vanessa's experiences—the volleyball triumph, Scout's touch, and finally, Vanessa's genuine confusion upon awakening to a night she'll never remember.

The building sits dark and quiet around you, the only light coming from exit signs casting a red glow over empty hallways. According to the clock on the wall, it's just past 1:15 AM—plenty of time to return to your dorm before anyone notices your absence.