As much as Bob would like to stay in this young and lithe body, the thought of pulling in an innocent bystander for his selfish desires just as he got out of his prison seems quite poor for his taste. Although, he does not deny the thought that he'd really take the kid's body if this even happened days later. While the kid is enjoying his new rugged face in front of a police car side mirror, Bob grabbed him by the wrist. As the ring touched his skin, the flash of swirling disorientation returned, and so does their sense of normalcy. Bob is back to his drug-devastated and prison-wrought body, while the kid bursts at him for ruining his fun.
"Turn me back mister," The kid said. "I was having fun!"
"Fun's over, kiddo." Bob saw a man, probably in his mid-30s, pop out of the building and walk to his car. Bob smiles. "Besides, I've got my ride out of here."
Eighty percent of the time, a lone driver forgets to lock the rear doors to their car. If he had gun instead of the ring, Bob's modus operandi would slip at the backseat and threaten the man with a choice. His life or his car. The answer is obvious for everybody. But with the ring at hand, he merely tapped the man on his shoulder and let the ring graze his neck.
"Wh- what the fuck!?" The man was about to scream when Bob covered his mouth.
"Shut the fuck up," Bob said with his new voice. "If you want to return to your body, you will do everything I say. You will not speak unless I tell you. And don't you ever try escaping because that would be the stupidest thing you'll do."
Despite the fear beating from his borrowed heart, the man's eyes calmed down and nodded. The two enterred the vehicle with Bob taking the driver's seat, while the man seats to his right. Bob didn't have a formal education with driving a vehicle. He learned from his friends, which meant constant crashes against the neighbor's cars. He feared that he might have forgotten how to drive stick. But his fears were all for naught when his body manipulated the vehicle as if it was driving it for a very long time. Bob remembers hearing something about this. A muscle memory, was it? Whatever its name is, it got him a few miles out of that concrete prison that housed him for seven long years.
The ride is long, and yet, the silence is killing the both of them. Bob would've turned on the radio if it wasn't broken. To disturb the monotony, he pulled the sun visor which revealed the man's picture, along with his family, attached to it. In his rush to swap bodies with him, Bob didn't get to inspect the body he just jumped into. In entirety, the man he's in gave him accountant vibes. This dude is a walking textbook picture-worthy of what an accountant would look like. He's got the cream-colored polo and a tie, brown pants, squarish glasses, and a well-combed hair. But unlike an accountant, this dude fucks. He ain't no twig. This man trains with what little time he has between crunching numbers to get huge muscles like these. Bob never felt this strong in his entire life. 𝘐𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘵𝘩𝘺 𝘶𝘱𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘻𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦? Good fucking lord, this is amazing.
"Hey," Bob snapped at him which caused the man to flinch. "What's your name?"
"Le- Lenard..."
"Psh..." Bob snorted. "What a fucking nerd's name. So, uhhh... you're a family man, ain't ya?"
"Y- yes. Got a wife and a son. I was about to fetch them right now." While explaining, Bob felt something itch in his groin. When he went to scratch it, the man flinched. "Please don't kill me!"
"Damn! You're one fucking scaredy cat aren't you? Relax, I ain't going to kill you. I only need a ride, and probably steal some cash from your wallet, and I'm good to go." While Bob was scratching his groin, he felt something big and good underneath his accountant pants. And then an idea came to mind. "Scratch what I said earlier and add this."
Bob opened his zipper, and pulled out his monstrous dick from its cage. The time when Lenard was walking on the smoldering parking lot made it all steamy and sweaty. And that small scratch Bob did earlier was enough to make it stand out. "Suck it," Bob said.
"Th- that's my dick," Lenard begged. "And I haven't washed it since yesterday."
"All the better," Bob pulled his entire pants, which revealed his hairy legs. Good lord this nerd seriously fucks.
"I can't. I'm not gay to suck another man's cock, even though it's mine."
"You're a fucking nerd and you're still making dumb decisions. I swapped bodies with you! Call it a miracle that I haven't run off with your body. Since miracles don't work on that shit ass brain of yours, what about a threat? I leave you in this dessert, fetch your family, fuck your wife, and steal your son's body? This cock or your family? The choice is yours."
Lenard gulped. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵?
Lenard lowered his head, and tried his best to ignore the stench from his unwashed cock. His wife reminded just this morning to wash it after their morning intercourse and he did not listen. As they say, regret truly is at the end. Lenard made another gulp, before poking a tounge at the shaft. It tasted of rancid salt, of sweating meat left under the sun. It was a stench he's familiar with, but never encountered this close and personal. And yet... it had an alluring factor to it. He took another lick, and then another. And by the end of it, half the cock is already stuffed inside the mouth.
"What's that about being straight? Ah-" Bob moaned. "Yeah, suck my dick like the gay fucking whore that you are." With his free hand, Bob grabbed the back of his head and guided him in every stroke. And every stroke squeezed a moan out of his deep velvetty voice. For a man who's sucking dick for the first time, he surprisingly amazing. His teeth hasn't grazed his dick once! And then, Bob realized a thought. Just as he got Lenard's muscle memory of driving his vehicle, Lenard must have gotten his muscle memory of sucking dicks. He ain't proud of it but it's a necessary skill to survive in prison. With too many cocks begging to get sucked, willing mouths is a luxary most are willing to get with eitber money or threat.
"Je- Jes- Ah!" Bob moaned. It's good that they are the only car driving this desolate road for miles. Because every time Lenard hit a good spot, the car swerves widely to the left. And as he approached critical mass, the car was swerving like a wide snake poisoned from its own toxin. "AHHHHH!!!"
Without warning, Bob released his sputtering seed all over Lenard's mouth. He swallowed most of it, but some slipped out of his mouth and onto the floor. When Bob looked down, he was surprised to see Lenard licking some of the cum with his finger. He even went as far to lick Bob's dick again, and scraped what little cum and grime was left.
"The right choice was fun, didn't it?"
"Wh- what did you do to me?"
"Other than swapping our bodies and threatening you, not much. If you enjoyed that as much as I did, that's your fault not mine. Either you're a closeted whore, or your a narcicisstic bitch who likes his own reflection a little too much. Maybe both."
The rest of the ride went uneventful. They reached the nearest town earlier than expected, but that was because Bob had no regard for the gas he's spending and so he went the maximum speed. He was lucky that no cop caught them speeding which would cause him to land his ass back in prison.