Suddenly his phone rang. It was Trent. He picked it up, and answered "Hi Trent, how's it going?". "I'm fine, but could you give me another lift from the office?", was the reply from the other side. "Sure thing. I'll be there in a couple of minutes", Shawn, the now rat-suit replied, as he went to his garage and hung up. He fitted his bike with saddlebags and mounted it. This time he didn't merge with it, even though he liked it, he might attract to much attention. Having a motorcycle rider with a tail was odd enough, it being a centaur even more so. And for what he wanted to do, he'd need his legs anyhow.
Eventually he met Trent in the deserted alley he left him with. "Boy, you've changed, haven't you", the human replied as was sitting down on the extra seat. "Yes, I've been experimenting a bit", Shawn replied as he drove off, continuing, "There's something I'd still like to try out." As he drove into the forest, he explained what he tried today, finishing it as he drove to a quiet place in it, parking the bike again as they got off the bike. "And that's why I'd like you", the suit pointed at Trent, "to wear me.", pointing at himself.
Trent was a bit puzzled, but after what they have done together, it wouldn't be right to decline such a request. Besides the changes to the suit really made it sexier, even though h
e occasionally had a boner seeing Shawn in it. Wearing such a suit, even, perhaps even because it's Shawn, made him slightly aroused. "OK, I'll do it.", he answered as he started to
undress. His friend the suit picked up his clothes and put them into the trunk of his motorcycle. They stood there for a moment, Trent completely naked with nothing to hide his ere
ction, and Shawn, a complete motorcycle suit. Shawn pondered for a moment, he would have grinned if he had a face and said, "So you like what you see?" and sat down, "I'm all yours for this ride". He first took of his boots, leaving the empty stumps of his hollow legs. Then he took of his helmet, positioning it in a way he could see the rest of his body as well as Trent. Nearly blindly, he laid down on his jacket and opened his belt as his pants separated from them. Then with one last pull, both gloves came off, leaving nothing behind than a seemingly dead pile of clothes.
Trent hesitated at first, but then overcame his worries. First he put on the pants, which seemed to fit him like a glove. Somehow they seemed to hug his boner perfectly well. Looking at his back he noticed the leather tail protruding from it. It moved by its own and he thought that this was probably controlled by Shawn. Then he put on the boots. They were thic
k and heavy, but fitted him perfectly, much better than any he had worn before. The jacket and the gloves came before finishing it with his helmet. Everything fit perfectly well, and as Trent was mounting Shawn's motorcycle, he found himself stroking his crotch. "Go on," a voice seemingly coming through the intercom system in the helmet said, "I'm washable", it continued. Encouraged, but a tiny little bit ashamed, Trent continued to stroke his crotch until he was about to ejaculate. At this moment Shawn gave the mental command to merge with his inhabitant, leaving his dissolved mass shooting into you instead of just his seamen. "Hey", Trent protested as he was absorbed into the hybrid which drove off.