Your date

You arrive early at Rooster's, a dimly lit establishment at the edge of campus that serves overpriced pasta and watered-down drinks to students trying to impress each other. The maître d' eyes Casey's body in the tight black dress with poorly concealed interest.

"Reservation?" he asks, his gaze lingering on the cleavage you've purposefully enhanced with strategic positioning in Casey's push-up bra.

"Under Charlie Westfield," you reply, enjoying how different Casey's voice sounds when you lower it to a sultry tone.

"Ah, yes. Mr. Westfield hasn't arrived yet. Would you like to wait at the bar?"

You nod and make your way through the restaurant, aware of how eyes follow Casey's body. At the bar, you order a cosmopolitan and position yourself on a stool in a way that shows off Casey's legs to maximum advantage. The bartender, a guy with sleeve tattoos named Nico according to his nametag, serves your drink with a wink.

"Haven't seen you in here before," he says. "I'd definitely remember."

"First time," you respond, taking a deliberate sip. "But maybe not the last."

The door opens, and Charlie walks in, looking around uncertainly. You watch him for a moment, enjoying the anticipation. He's dressed better than usual – dark jeans and a button-down shirt that actually fits. His eyes scan the bar, looking for his girlfriend, completely unaware that you're right in front of him in a borrowed body.

"See something you like?" you call out to him, lifting your glass in a small toast.

Charlie's attention snaps to you, confusion evident on his face. He approaches cautiously. "I'm actually meeting someone..."

"You're meeting me, dummy," you say, rolling your eyes. "Surprise."

His brow furrows, completely lost. "I'm sorry, do I know you?"

You lean in close, whispering into his ear, "It's Mackenzie, baby. Sorority hazing week. I'm borrowing a freshman pledge's body for a few days. Thought I'd surprise you."

Charlie pulls back, eyes wide with shock, then narrowing with interest as he takes in Casey's body. "Holy shit, Mack? How did you..." He stops, then breaks into a grin. "Wait, is this that BodyBnB thing?"

"Bingo," you say, sliding off the stool and doing a little twirl. "What do you think of my temporary upgrade?"

Charlie's eyes travel up and down Casey's body with undisguised hunger. "Jesus, Mack. That's... fuck, that's hot."

"I thought you might appreciate a redhead for a change," you say, brushing Casey's copper hair back over her shoulder. "Our reservation's ready. Shall we?"

As the maître d' leads you to a corner table, Charlie's hand finds the small of your back, lower than propriety would suggest. You can feel the heat of his palm through the thin fabric of Casey's dress.

"So," Charlie murmurs as you sit down, "does she know what you're planning to do with her body?"

You smirk, reaching across the table to trace your fingertips along the back of his hand. "The rules just say I have to return it without permanent modifications. Everything else is... fair game."

Charlie's pupils dilate. "And how long do you have it?"

"All week," you purr, running Casey's foot up his calf under the table. "I have so many ideas for what we can do. Things I've always wanted to try but didn't have the... flexibility for."

The waiter approaches with menus, but Charlie barely glances at him, his eyes fixed on you with a predatory gleam that sends a delicious shiver through Casey's body.

You lean forward across the table, letting the neckline of Casey's dress dip dangerously low. Charlie's eyes immediately drop, then dart back up to your face, a flush spreading across his cheeks.

"You know," you say, swirling your wine glass, "I've been thinking about all the possibilities this body opens up for us. Casey's so... flexible." You demonstrate by arching your back slightly.

Charlie clears his throat, adjusting his position in his chair. "Like what exactly?"

"Well," you purr, reaching across to trail your fingers along his forearm, "I've always wanted to try that position you showed me in that video last month. The one I said would break my back? I bet Casey's gymnast background would make it a breeze."

The waiter approaches with your appetizers, and you wait until he leaves before continuing, enjoying the way Charlie's breathing has quickened.

"Plus," you say, deliberately licking Casey's lips, "I've got a whole new body to explore. Different nerve endings. Different sensitivities." You lower your voice to a whisper. "I wonder if she comes easier than I do?"

Charlie nearly chokes on his water. "Jesus, Mack," he hisses, looking around to see if anyone heard. "Are you trying to kill me before the main course?"

You laugh, Casey's voice sounding musical and light. "I'm just getting started. By dessert, you'll be begging to skip it and go straight back to your place."

As you eat, you keep up the ****. You describe in explicit detail what you want him to do to Casey's body later tonight. You make innocent actions deliberately provocative—the way you slide your fork between Casey's lips, how you moan softly when tasting the chocolate dessert.

"I've been thinking," you say as you share a tiramisu, "about all those things we've talked about trying. The handcuffs. The blindfold. The ice cubes." You take a deliberate bite, letting the fork linger between Casey's lips. "Wouldn't it be fun to try them with a body that's never experienced any of it before?"

Charlie's face is flushed, his pupils dilated. He's barely touched his portion of the dessert.

"And you know what else?" you continue, leaning in so your lips nearly brush his ear. "I won't be the only one with a new experience. You get to fuck a redhead for the first time. You've always had a thing for them, haven't you?"

Charlie swallows hard. "Check, please," he calls to the waiter, not taking his eyes off you.

As you wait for the bill, you slip off one of Casey's heels under the table and run her foot up Charlie's calf, higher and higher until you feel him tense.

"One week," you remind him. "Seven days to do everything we've ever fantasized about. No limits."

The waiter returns with the check. Charlie throws down his credit card without even looking at the total.

"Your place or mine?" you ask with Casey's most innocent smile, knowing full well what his answer will be.