After a tense discussion about the remote, Carl and Marco agreed that a shower might help clear their heads—and perhaps ease the shock of their new realities. They each headed to their respective bathrooms, the sounds of running water echoing through the house.
Marco spent a good long while just admiring his naked teenage body in the full-length mirror. He tried his best to hid it from his son, but the more time he spent in this body, the more hopelessly excited and aroused his was becoming. It was like all the hormones of his youth had rushed back into him, and he was now sporting a raging teenage hardon. He was glad for the chance to step away and take care of business. What Carl didn't know couldn't hurt. He stepped into the shower and slowly soaped up his smooth body.
Steam filled the air, wrapping around him like a warm blanket, and he ran his hands over his chest, feeling the taut muscles underneath the skin. This is wild, he thought, flexing his arms and watching the water droplets bead and slide down his defined biceps. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this light—his middle-aged body had always felt heavy, weighed down by years of labor.
He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, Carl’s youthful face staring back, framed by damp hair. Marco leaned closer, studying the smoothness of the skin, the lack of wrinkles or tired lines. What would it be like to be this confident? he wondered. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good, this strong. With one hand he lathered up his hair, and the other wandered down between his legs, gently massaging the tip of his teenage member. It felt amazing.
As the shampoo worked through his hair, he explored the sensation of the lathering suds, the way they foamed and bubbled, invigorating his scalp. He couldn't shake the thrill of energy that coursed through him, a sharp contrast to the fatigue that usually settled into his bones after a long day.
Is this how Carl feels all the time? Marco pondered, amazed by the newfound vitality. He laughed to himself, feeling the echo of the sound resonate in this lighter, younger form. “I could get used to this,” he said aloud, his voice ringing with a pitch that seemed foreign but exhilarating.
Meanwhile, in his father’s bathroom, Carl stood in front of the mirror, taking a deep breath. The sight of his own father’s body was startling. He turned sideways, observing the roundness of the torso, the dense layers of hair, and the broad shoulders that felt like a mountain of muscle. He fondled his dad's meaty sausage of a dick and ran his fingers through the forest of wiry pubic hair. He couldn't deny there was something exciting about being big and hairy. Something powerful, and his dad-dong was starting to respond, chubbing up with excitement. Carl's bearded bearish face blushed, but he couldn't help but rub his meaty manhood as he entered the shower.
As he turned on the shower, the water poured down, instantly turning his thoughts to the weight of this new form. The water felt different against his thick skin—more of a cascade than a gentle dribble. He reached up to adjust the showerhead, surprised at how heavy his arms felt. He quickly adjusted to the sensation, but the strength in them was unlike anything he had known.
What’s it like to live in this body? he thought, rubbing his hands over the sturdy chest. The hair felt coarse under his fingers, and the soft curves of his father’s body were foreign yet oddly comforting. He felt the heaviness of his arms as they hung at his sides, and as he flexed, the muscles rippled in a way that was both powerful and unsettling.
The water washed away the remnants of the day, but Carl couldn’t shake the feeling of being an imposter in this hefty frame. Why does everything feel so... different? He washed his face, the roughness of his father’s stubble scratching against his palms. It was a reminder of how far he was from his teenage smoothness.
He caught a glimpse of his new reflection again, the thick neck and round cheeks staring back. “This is insane,” he murmured, the deep rumble of his voice surprising him. “I look like a lumberjack!”
As the steam enveloped him, Carl’s mind raced. What would it be like to navigate the world in this body? To feel the weight of age and experience, to have that husky laugh that seemed to resonate from the chest? There was a raw strength that came with it, but he felt tethered by the limitations that came with being someone’s dad.
How does Dad even move around like this? he wondered, reaching to run a hand along the curve of his furry belly. It felt different—comfortable in a way but not quite right. The sensations were overwhelming, the warmth of the water mixing with a profound sense of excitement. He grabbed at his dad's crotch and massaged it in the soapy, slippery water.
Carl and Marco, each slowly gave into their feelings of excitement, and unbeknown to each other, they simultaneously climaxed, feeling the tremendous spell of being in the other's body. They knew they needed to change back, but the excitement and arousal was building a powerful conflicting set of desires. Marco was starting to love being young again. And Carl was becoming strangely accepting of being a heavyset bear of a man.