Something Went Wrong

Feeling eerily refreshed, Alan opened his eyes and sat up in his bed. Beside him was his best friend, Eric, still with his pants down, snoring gently, lost in a bliss-powered slumber. Since Alan was given the gift of his mother's body, this sexy, older woman's body that he had desired to possess for far too long, his life seemed to have been turned into one long sexual experience. How many times had he orgasmed? It was hard for him to count, one climax blending into the next.

Taking stock, Alan could tell that his first priority should be to clean himself up. His t-shirt, his long hair, even his face all had traces of Eric's sperm, now dried and crusty, on it. The thought of it made him wretch now, but while Alan had been giving his friend the hand-job, Alan hadn't worried about it at all. In fact, it was as if his mother's body had it's own urges, it's own desires, and they had informed his actions. Sure, the dildo had felt amazing, and Alan was getting quite good at its use, but there was something more. Touching his friend's penis had felt...

Right?

Alan wasn't sure how to explain it, nor did he want to. What he wanted to do, what he needed to do, was to get showered and changed.

He tiptoed out of his bedroom on his painted nails, down the hall, and into the bathroom. Alan should have felt tired from all of the sexual expenditure, but he didn't. In fact, he was sure he had never felt more awake, more alive. Everything felt wonderful! He slipped his dirty clothes off and put them in the hamper. The cool air on his naked skin felt wonderful. So did the hot water on his breasts. So did the soap on his nether regions. So did the soft towel wrapped around his torso.

Wonderful!

Back in the hallway, about to return to his bedroom, Alan paused, hearing a noise coming from his mother's bedroom. Curiosity took over, and he turned and peaked his head inside.

On the floor was his old body, his mother's face on the head. Beside her was an old book, leather bound, and what looked like a clam shell with some ash in it. She looked so much like how he would have looked. Well, not exactly. She still wore the altered black skirt, white blouse, hose and heels that had gone with her for the reality adjustment when she had cast the spell. A smile crept onto Alan's face and a heat began to cook in his groin. Something about a man in a skirt made him feel so... so...

Wait. Was he just lusting after his mother? In his old body?

Something was seriously wrong.