Only keep the underwear on

I stayed frozen in the bathroom a second longer, listening to Alice’s footsteps move away down the hall. The thick weight of Jake’s cock in the boxers pulsed once against the soft fabric. My new thighs still felt denser under the cotton. My ass still sat higher and firmer. The leaner frame under the gray hoodie had already settled in.

I did not want to lose the cock. Or the solid new feel of the thighs and ass that came with the underwear. Those would stay as long as I did not put my own underwear back on.

I decided on a middle path.

I pulled Jake’s gray hoodie off and dropped it on the counter. Nothing changed. The broader shoulders and leaner frame stayed exactly as they were. Then I grabbed one of my own hoodies from the hook on the door and pulled it on. The second my old hoodie settled over my skin a reverse tingle ran across my chest, shoulders, and arms. The borrowed frame faded. My own narrower upper body returned. The hoodie fit the way it always had.

But I left Jake’s boxers exactly where they were.

The thick cock stayed heavy and half-hard inside them. The denser thighs and higher, firmer ass remained unchanged. Every place the underwear still touched held the swap, and nothing I had done reversed it.

I reached for my own jeans next. I stepped into them carefully and tugged them up over the boxers. The denim pressed tight against the thicker shaft and the reshaped thighs. When I zipped up, Jake’s cock was trapped hard along my left leg, the outline faint but present if anyone looked too long. My own socks and shoes went on last. Nothing changed there.

I checked the mirror. From the waist up I looked like myself again in my own hoodie. From the waist down the jeans hid Jake’s cock, thighs, and ass. No one would know what the underwear had done underneath.

I unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway.

Alice was gone. The house was quiet except for the low sound of the washing machine starting up somewhere. I walked toward the stairs, every step making the heavy cock rub inside the jeans. The new muscle in my thighs flexed naturally. My new ass filled the seat of the denim the way his always did.

Mom’s voice floated up from the kitchen. I headed down.

She looked up from the counter when I walked in. Her eyes moved over me once and found nothing unusual.

“Morning, sweetie,” she said.

“Morning.” My voice stayed steady even though the thick shaft twitched at the sound of her speaking. It stayed half-hard, warm and heavy, leaking just enough that I could feel the damp spot forming inside the boxers.

She turned back to whatever she was making. She saw only me in my own clothes. She did not see the body underneath the jeans.

I leaned against the counter, legs slightly apart to give the borrowed cock room. My new thighs held the stance without effort. My new ass rested against the cabinet edge.

I had put my own hoodie back on and reclaimed my upper body.

But I was keeping everything the underwear had claimed.