The town of Misty Hollow has 20,000+ people living in it. Countless names for a simple guy like me. I know a lot about them. Which is expected since my surname is well-known across town. Some people would even greet me even though I do not know their names. Those that do, would acknowledge me but they won't advance beyond the casual small talk. Noah Sallow is just that kind of guy. He is my next-door neighbor. We often cross paths in the morning when we go to school. He'd say 'Hello, today is a good morning isn't it'. I'd agree with a nod before returning to the songs budded in our ears. It was always that way in the morning. In the evening, I'd see him across my window, just beyond the apple tree that divides our yards. He'd see me looking at him and he would flash me with that perfect white smile of his. To see your neighbor smile like that at most nights, it's flattering.
Although, I am seeing little of him these past few weeks. He joined the Theater club so he needs to go to the university early in the morning and return late at night. His window is now covered with blinds but through the peering gaps, I could see him practicing his lines for his first play. He's shy, that I know. But he's going to do it in front of the audience anyway. Why doesn't he want me to see it? I wanted to tell him that I wanted to see it. But I am guilty of the same crime he's convicted of. I'm shy.
I uttered his whole name in front of the mirror. An apparition of his disembodied head formed from the hellish clouds. His eyes are closed and his lips are resting on a slight smile. This would be my first time looking at him without feeling dreading anxiety inside me. I'd steal glances before but now, I could look anytime I wanted.
He often wears a baseball cap belonging to his late father. Underneath them is this short black hair that reaches only above his ears. I always wanted to comb them, to have my fingers divide his bristle-like fibers of a hair. I never could because he is taller than I am. And like what I have said before, I am shy.
His is anything but special. He looks decent - normal for a male teenager in this country. He lives and breathes the neighborhood white-boy stereotype. His nose is a button of pink, one that gives onlookers an overwhelming sense to bop it. His cheeks have disappearing signs of acne. It is embarrassing that I still have some acne now that I am beyond my adolescent age. It made me more conscious of how I look and how people view me. It’s partly why I grew shy around Noah. He’s already growing beyond his body mistakes but I am still wallowing in them.
I breathed. In and out.
I grabbed the golden gildings of the mirror, felt the coldness of it, as I stepped inside the windless void beyond the reflection. There was darkness then there was light - as it did before and will be in the future. I found myself standing in a room I used to only see across the yard. It feels strange knowing that I am in it. Like I am overwhelmed by the entire picture when I was only used to the corner.
A script is on my hand, a recorder on the other. These objects feel so familiar yet so unknown. My mind told me that the script is a stepping stone to my dream, the recorder - a gift from my father. My real mind says no to these things. Reading a script is not my dream, nor did my father give me anything. Two memories swirled in my mind, one of the blurrier than the other. I rested on the bed as I closed my eyes. My mind is a sea of chaos. Focus organized the chaos and told which is which. The real me did not have a father - I do not know him nor did he ever know me. My dream is unclear but Noah’s is fully realized. He wanted to be a broadway actor performing in the great city of New York. He sings well, I do not. I act like a robot, he does not. But now that I am in his body, I could do the things he can.
I tested my voice. Do… Re… Do… Re…
My voice is different. For the better, of course. It comes from the chest, not from the nose as I do. The voice is clear as the pristine waters of a mountain. It’s full and cold. I could hit deep notes and sing the verses in the script. Singing was like a hand that pulled me awake. I stood up once more and sang the lines in the script. I sang it with the perfection that I heard someone clap outdoors. I do not get it. He could sing so well, so why hide it behind curtains?
I stopped the recorder and smiled as I breathed once more in my new set of lungs.
As much as I wanted to sing more, my curiosity about Noah’s body overcame me. This is why I possessed him in the first place. To see what lays underneath.
I went to the bathroom where I was met with a large sink mirror. There he is - the man of the hour. The white lad with short black hair. His face, pink from acne scars, and the cold autumnal temperature. His eyes are as dark as his hair, his brows thick and bold with power. I smiled with his thin pink lips, perfect and innocent as it formed into a grin.
One by one, my clothes fell to the ground.
Whoa, I say with a breathy gasp. If I was in my real body right now, I would jump at him and touch him all over. But that is not what it is right now. The best I could do is touch myself. That is more than enough as I get to feel my reluctant touches.
My nipples are as pink as my lips. They perked up from the cold before I could wake them up through touch. I jostled it with my index and felt my hairs rise from the stimulation. My fingers trailed downwards and into my recently shaven navel. I looked downwards and smiled. Noah's member has its charms. It white with prickles of hair, here and there. His balls breathed larger and smaller. Unlike his navel, his balls are completely devoid of hair. I cusped it and felt its breathing warmth. I marbled it with my fingers and felt the moan-begging sensations begging for more.
I smiled. A drip of saliva fell on my chest.
There is a lotion behind the medicine cabinet. A dollop spread across my body and covered my groin with an even coat. My hands coursed through my skin like skates on ice. It shone on me like I am a mirror for the bathroom light. I walked back to the bedroom where I did the deed on my bed.
First came the reluctant touch. The apprehensive ones that are shy about this new territory. It is certainly strange touching your skin that you are not used to. Noah has more of them. His stomach may be flat at sight but there are definitions underneath the baby fat. His dick has an extra inch or two than mine, which meant more sensations as I squeezed it up and down. I writhed every time my hands touched the right buttons on Noah's skin. His nipples and belly button are the worst offenders. Touch them once and that is enough to make my dick harder than it already is. Touch them twice and the effects were not as much. Change and return, and the sensations are refreshed. Touch the nipples, then the belly button, and return? I screamed at it. It's a good thing that Noah sings because I could hide my lengthy moans in the harmonic tune of his play.
I looked down on my chest and saw my dick throbbing red and squirting pre-cum. I licked one and tasted its briny taste.
I could just spend my evenings like this. Inside Noah's body, masturbating and without a care in the world. I know I could and that's the amazing thing about it.
They say men have a different approach when their climax is nearing. Some men speed up the jacking of their hand, some slow down. I slow down but like Noah, my body told me to speed things up. So, I did and it was amazing. I wanted to savor every tingling feeling in my groin. Before I could, one was already rocking my body than another and another.
My cum spurted in the air and landed on my chest. It came out in large dollops. They splashed on my nipples and my stomach. It pooled but I spread its sticky warmth all over my chest. It’s disgusting but it feels like the right way to do it.
My mind felt like a blank canvas after the release. I sprawled on the bed, thinking nothing and doing nothing. Afterglow, they called it. Post-nut clarity to some. I possessed Noah to find out the appearance of his skin. Now that I do, the path before me is open to countless possibilities.
Before I made my next move, I turned around and took a huge whiff of his pillow and blanket. It's Noah, through and through.