Mark pointed the remote at the image of the buxom model on the computer monitor, then pointed it at himself in Jennifer’s body.
Instantly, he could tell things had changed. The breasts hanging from his chest appeared to have almost doubled in size, looking like flesh-colored basketballs being cupped by some translucent pink lingerie, rather than stuffed into a too-small set of pajamas.
He stood up intending to run to a mirror, but tripped and had to catch himself on the desk, noting that Jennifer’s nails were still painted lavender, but now they were about an inch long and appeared to be professionally manicured.
The problem, it turned out, was that he was wearing pink slippers with 4-inch heels. He slipped the unfamiliar shoes off and tried to put his feet flat on the floor -- but it didn’t work. It was as if Jennifer’s feet were now shaped specifically to fit into high-heeled shoes. He looked at the unchanged model on the screen and realized that although she was otherwise nude, she was wearing a pair of platform heels made of clear material, like something a stripper would have on.
He slipped the shoes back on and carefully jiggled his way into Jennifer’s bedroom, to look at the full-length mirror that was on her closet door.
Jennifer’s room had changed. The bed was larger and the bookshelf was missing, but there was a laptop computer and a stack of fashion magazines on the desk. The only thing on the walls were some advertisement posters, all showing the same gorgeous, well-endowed model...
...which, Mark saw as he turned toward the full-length mirror, was Jennifer. It was as if she’d gotten all the features of the model he’d fused her with, but because there had been more weight to work with, she’d become an expanded version, for lack of a better word. He stripped off Jennifer’s outfit, which he now realized was something called a babydoll, and looked at her in the nude.
She was a few inches taller than the old Jennifer, and her hair was much longer, cascading down to the top of her ass. And what an ass it was, rounded into almost-perfect spheres. Her thighs were almost as wide as her breasts, and with a surprisingly slim waist, it gave her a figure that could only be described as an hourglass. Her face was vaguely recognizable as Jennifer’s, but it had been enhanced considerably, with everything from wider eyes and longer eyelashes to higher cheekbones and much plumper lips. She was definitely not thin by any means, but her fat was now distributed in perhaps the best way possible, making her into what looked like the ultimate “BBW” model.
It was too much for Mark, and he lay down on the bed -- the sheets were satin, he noticed -- to explore some other anatomical features of her body. Tugging on her perfect brown nipples resulted in a pleasant enough sensation, but when he found the clit, an electric feeling raced through him.
He kneaded both breasts with his right arm and tweaked a nipple with his right hand while his left hand played with her nether regions. From his excitement at being in this incredible woman’s body, it definitely didn’t take long to come. Although centered in his midsection, the orgasm made him tingle literally from head to toe, much better than anything he’d ever felt as a male.
“Oh, my God,” he said with a moan, a little surprised to hear a low, sexy woman’s voice saying what he said, and then felt a little silly at his surprise.
The scent of chocolate was in the air. Mark realized it was coming from himself, and that his left hand was a bit damp. He cautiously brought it to his nose, smelled the chocolate, and then quickly licked it off. It was delicious. He ran his hand back over his vulva hoping to get more, and was rewarded with a bit of additional fluid.
“No wonder guys love to eat girls out,” he said in the female voice. There had been another reality change besides Jennifer’s weight gain when he had inadvertently and unknowingly fused her with a half-eaten chocolate bar. As far as he knew, it had always been true that women’s vaginal fluid came in a wide variety of different flavors. All were good, but some, such as chocolate, were generally considered more delicious than others. It was in almost all porn; even Playboy had it on their Playmate’s data sheets (with the heading “taste”) -- of course, there was no real way to know if someone was lying.
Mark sat up, the fleshy basketballs on his chest nicely jiggling. This Jennifer was the stuff of fantasy, and was obviously making money modeling -- it appeared that she might even not be in school. He wondered if she really deserved the life he’d created for her here, and contemplated turning her back into the Jennifer he remembered, or at least toning her down a bit.
On the other hand, he definitely wouldn’t mind staying in this body for a while longer. He didn’t think she needed any more improvements to her body in and of itself, but maybe he could do something with the remote that would change something else about her.