They say it’s a waste to spend your entire vacation in the hotel room, but AJ had already spent the first couple days by himself, cooped up indoors, and he wouldn’t trade that time for all the money in the world! It wasn’t his first time at Exchange Island: first trip, he got swapped into some scrawny nerd, the second, he was forced to be a fat old lady. This time though… well, “third time’s a charm” was proving to be an accurate assessment of his situation. Despite AJ’s poor luck in the past, it was the hope of trying out a woman’s body (that still had all of its working parts intact) that brought him back year after year. It all worked out in the end: this body was SMOKING, and the lady who owned it clearly knew it, too. The most modest articles of clothing he could find was a sundress with a PLUNGING neckline; no shirts, no pants, no [tpu]underwear[/tpu] if he didn’t count the frilly lingerie. And the swimsuits (if you could call them that) left NOTHING to the imagination: this thing was so small, it barely covered his nipples, and anyone would be able to catch a glimpse of this woman’s freshly-shaved landing strip peaking out to say hello.

“God… Fuuck…” the bikini bottom was so unsubstantial, and AJ’s arousal from his probing around was so significant, a deluge of pleasure was running down his squishy thighs and onto the suite carpet. All that just from fidgeting with the straps, having the fabric against all the important parts. If he could manage getting off like THAT from a little groping, imagine if… AJ’s train of thought led him to the obvious solution. He was on vacation, after all; he shouldn’t be in his room all week. AJ should be at the beach- that’s where all of the other hot chicks- and fuck it, hot guys, too- that’d be willing to take that next step into making the most out of his borrowed womanhood while he still had it.