Josh ran through all the options in his head and came up short. This new body was definitely tempting, but what about his old life? Could he really just adopt a new identity? He hovered over the option to cancel TaskRaccoon Premium on his phone - surely cancelling this "service" would revert everything back to normal?
Before Josh could commit, he heard distant sirens. Okay, his first priority was to get the hell out of here - he'd have no options at all if he was arrested for breaking and entering and his phone taken away from him. He started up the truck and, with his new address in mind, hit the road.
Josh started plugging his new address into his satnav, but curiousity got the better of him. Haven't he almost ended up at this address earlier by instinct? What would happen he just left his body drive on autopilot? And sure enough, he soon found himself turning down streets and passing buildings that felt somehow familiar whilst also being brand new. He was in a area not far from the city centre, a neighbourhood that he knew had been billed as an "up and comer" and quickly going through the standard gentrification. Without much warning, Josh found himself parking up outside an apartment block. His apartment block.
Josh wasn't surprised to find keys to the building in the backpack that happened to be in his truck, nor was he surprised when he took the elevator up to his floor and found himself outside his apartment door. Josh shuddered - his truck, his floor, his door. This all felt too natural and he needed a solution quickly. The apartment was small, nicely decorated, and to Josh's groan untidy. The clothes on the floor, dishes in the sink, and unmade bed all screamed bachelor pad.
With the excitement of his escape from his parents' house dying down, the need to use the toilet suddenly struck him. He found the bathroom and chuckled with glee as his admired his new thick cock. After doing his business, Josh once again found himself eyeing up his new body in the mirror. Taller, more handsome, more muscular - this was going to be a hard body to give up. Josh couldn't help but flex his arms and then, removing his tanktop in one swift motion, watched his awe as he easily made his hairy pecs jump. He caught the mirror with an alluring smile and murmured "muy muy guapo" to himself. He was handsome for sure but he was also - he realised - stinking up the bathroom. The result of a hard day's labour Josh thought to himself, as he finished stripping off and went for a shower.
Josh breathed deeply in the hot shower. Lathering up his body, feeling up with muscles, and running his hands through his thick locks of hair all felt new and exciting. But why was he so calm? He wasn't shocked anymore about how his height meant he almost reached the shower head, how we instinctively knew where the towels where, or the fact that he was washing himself in a shower in an apartment that was seemingly his! He knew he should interrogate this more, but his attention was diverted as he lathered up his now hard cock.
It didn't take long until Josh was jacking himself off, swapping between his left hand (was that his dominant hand now?) and both hands. He moaned deeply as he stroked his new cock and didn't even notice his fingers starting to tease his ass. He felt the tickling sensation as his fingers massaged his hairy ass and as one finger inserted himself into his hole, Josh exploded all over the shower door.
***
Moving through post-orgasm bliss, Josh grabbed a set of clothes that looked relativity clean, grabbed a beer from the fridge and settled down on the sofa, automatically turning on the tv. With the TV blaring, Josh relaxed on the sofa with one hand fondling his hairy package and the other browsing his phone. He probably needed to shave downstairs again he thought, although maybe the ladies liked a bit of bush? Josh looked through his phone, eyeing up his calendar over the next few days. A lot of clients who would happily pay cash in hand.
Josh paused. This was getting too comfortable. He was in some strange apartment drinking beer, watching a tv show he now realised was in Spanish, a hand grasping a throbbing hairy dick that wasn't his, and he was looking at some disturbingly familiar work schedule for the rest few days. He knew he wasn't José Contreras but he couldn't avoid the creeping sensation that this identity he had found himself was - by all accounts - his. That this hunky body, city apartment, and independent business was all his. He needed to get his life back. And so regardless of what the consequences might be, he booted up TaskRaccoon and was about to cancel his Premium membership. Just then, Josh heard a key in the door.