the-golden-opportunity:

Terry sunk down into the chair and let the cigarette dangle from his lips. He didn’t use to smoke, but after he found out he could hop from one body to the next, things like getting lung cancer didn’t really matter any more. Sure, he might leave a bad taste in the mouth of whoever’s body he happened to be inhabiting, but one smoke wouldn’t kill ‘em. Plus, it always helped him calm down after hopping a body.

As he sat with the smoke circling around him, he let himself sink deeper and deeper into his new persona. He turned to look at his handsome face in the mirror and gazed through the eyes he was currently borrowing. He was Kyle Marsh, male model. He could have figured the male model part out on his own, even without having possession of the body’s memories. But the memories started flooding in, anyhow. Memories of runway shows and photoshoots. A fairly recent memory of a hot encounter with another male model at a fashion show in London. Terry bit his lip and adjusted his cock in his thin pants as he replayed that particular memory. Then, there was a memory of being balls deep in a drop-dead gorgeous blonde with huge tits after a beach photoshoot in Rio. Then, a flash of a memory of being rammed in the ass by a muscular black dude somewhere in the back of a club in New York City. Kyle Marsh apparently got it all ways, all positions, male and female, all around the world. Terry grinned. He could have a lot of fun with this body.

Now feeling a little bit more at home, Terry stood up and stretched. He put his cigarette out and flicked it in a wastebasket. An iPhone buzzed on the desk. It was a message from someone Kyle had saved in his contacts as “SF Barista.” Terry closed his eyes and tried to picture who it was. Ah, yes. The cute, scruffy barista from the coffeehouse he always went to here in San Francisco. They had hooked up once, and now it was kind of a regular thing any time Kyle was in town.

“Saw you were here tonight,” the barista texted, followed by a very enticing dick pic.

“Hey you,” Terry responded, “I’m at the hotel. Meet here?”

He turned to the mirror, pulled down his pants, stuck out his tongue, and snapped a pic. Even with the goofy look on his face, he still looked dangerously sexy. He sent the photo to the barista.

“Be there in 30 mins,” came the reply.