Ever since Morgan and Mason starting working together at the pizza place, neither could deny the immediate connection they felt. At first blush, Mason naturally assumed it was a sexual kind of attraction- though they never acted on the impulse, what with Morgan not being attracted to men- but after a while they discovered the truth was much more interesting. They were switchers, two people uniquely bound in such a way that they could switch bodies with one another at will. Upon learning this information, Morgan quickly brushed it off. She liked her coworker well enough, and she recognized he had the right proportional, sharp features to be considered attractive, but it was a whole other ballpark to just give her body over to someone else, even if temporarily. Mason seemed to be in full agreement, and the matter was dropped. But later on, the curiosity was eating at them, it didn’t take too long for them to flip their stances. They didn’t want to swap after work, where they would have most of a day unsupervised in each other’s apartments and bodies, so it was decided that during one of their slower shifts, they’d try it out, being each other for a few hours at most, and if it was an enjoyable experience, maybe they’d agree to go for longer in the future. They were still working the same job, more or less, but with the added thrill of pretending to be someone else. With Morgan in Mason’s tall, muscular body, and he in her slender, pert one, they had achieved a closeness leagues above simply dating.

It was around time for Morgan to close up shop, overall satisfied with her and Mason’s little experiment. She must’ve underestimated just how hot Mason was, with the way every single woman that came into the shop was making goo-goo eyes at her. Being a guy also made it more clear to them that she actually WAS flirting, which was an added bonus. There was no way she could actually follow through with any of these potential suitors, but the three separate phone numbers she secured was quite the ego boost, nonetheless. This trial run of sorts took and unexpected turn, however, when Morgan walked in on “herself” marked with a distinctive shape stamped right on her ass.  Mason turned around, his face doing its best to play it cool, but clearly guilt-ridden. Facing his old body, he hid the initial evidence, but in turn exposed a great number of finger marks pawing around the general vicinity of his-HER- boobs. Morgan could’ve gotten upset, but decided to keep her mouth shut. After all, with how she had been conducting herself, she couldn’t fault him for sneaking his jollies in; considering how she’d snuck off to rub one out in the car after going on a delivery, she doubted he’d managed a more informative look at her body than she had his. Morgan was willing to ignore such a small transgression, even if she couldn’t help but notice that the hand-print was a touch too small to belong to her...