AVOIDING GYM CLASS

     Nobody really remembers what it's like to be a kid, to be small and weak. Even worse, being an almost invisible kid in eighth grade. I say invisible because it would be BETTER to be invisible instead of picked on every single day by Jimmy Messenger. He's the jerk that's been tormenting me since the fifth grade.

     I'd told my dad how it felt, but he said things would get better and that I needed to stop looking at all the negatives and try to concentrate on the positives. It was easy for him because he was an adult. He was past the shit part and, honestly, he'd never had a bad day in his life. He was the guy that everybody loved. Had an awesome job, good looking, tall and respected. And don't get me started on my hot step mom. Let's just say I didn't get his jackpot DNA. It sucked and he had ZERO clue what it was like being unpopular. He'd never known a day of unpopular in his life.

     I sat in the bathroom during gym class, trying to avoid the fact that just beyond the doors awaited Jimmie. Gym was always the worst. I was small for my age, had barely hit puberty and let's just say the locker room wasn't my friend. I still had lingering PTSD from the last wedgie Jimmie had inflicted on me, and I knew it wouldn't be my last. 

     Sitting there, I wondered what my dad was doing at that very moment. I hadn't seen him in a week, but he was supposed to pick me up for school this afternoon for the weekend. He was probably at some awesome client lunch or cruising around in his Tesla. I wish I could be more like him. I'd never wanted anything more in my life.

     I closed my eyes and imagined what it would feel like if I were him. What would it be like to skip all the BS of junior high and high school and just BE an adult with everything. I took a deep breath and it was strange, my body tingled and I felt a little dizzy, but focused on the air moving in and out of my lungs. It passed pretty quickly, but I felt off somehow, almost heavier if that makes sense. It didn't matter though. No amount of wishful thinking was going to help me get out of gym class. It was time to face Jimmie Messenger and get today's trauma out of the way. 

     I opened my eyes with a sigh, but was shocked by what I found. Yeah, I was still in a bathroom, but it wasn't a gym stall. It was white tile and modern. Confused, I glanced around the room, standing. That's when I realized I was MUCH taller and NOT in my own body anymore. I was wearing a navy suit and staggered back to see my reflection in the mirror, but it wasn't me . . . it was my dad, and he looked incredibly shocked. 

     Glancing down, I saw his dick hanging out of his pants and, at first, I looked away, but couldn't help looking back up at it.

     The more I did, the harder it got. I could feel the blood rushing to it. It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced as I stared down at it. What the hell was going on? Why was I in my dad's body and . . . why did I have his dick? One second I was avoiding gym and now, this?

     My phone dinged and I searched my dad's pants for his phone, but couldn't find it. It dinged again and I realized it was in his suit pocket. Pulling it out, I saw a text from my stepmom.

     I THOUGHT WE WERE GOING TO PLAY, it said. 

     I had no idea what to say back.

     YOU STILL ON YOUR WAY HOME? she texted. I just stood there, dick at full mast, staring at the screen, still completely stunned this was even happening. Then she texted me a pic. She was sprawled out on the kitchen table naked, her hand rubbing her pussy as she licked her lips. My dad's dick got even harder if that was possible and I felt it throb a little, almost as if it was begging to be touched or sucked or . . . what was I thinking? I licked my lips, staring at my stepmom's hot body and suddenly realized . . . I WAS MY DAD. I was handsome, confident, tall . . . I was married to a hot ass woman and I had this, this HUGE dick and . . . I could use it. I wasn't some pre-puberty wanna be in Junior High anymore. I could do whatever I wanted. 

     Smiling up at my dad's reflection, I raised the phone and tried to look super chill as I snapped a photo. I then texted it to my stepmom, or my wife with . . .

     I'LL BE HOME SOON AND I AM GOING TO FUCK YOU SO HARD.

     I then looked back up at my new reflection. I stared at that huge cock at full mast and built the courage to finally touch it. My fingers moved along the shaft, up to the tip and down again. It felt . . . I can't describe it. It felt awesome! I snapped another pic, but looked a lot more STUNNED in this one, but it was exactly how I felt as I started stroking my new dick.

     Then my phone dinged again. Another pic from my wife. Her fingers were deep in her pussy, back arched and tits pointing to the sky. I slid down the wall to the floor, moving my hand over my dick harder and faster. I guess this is what jerking off was, what jerking off felt like. 

     I'M WAITING ON YOU. COME HOME NOW! she texted.

     I stroked my cock even harder and felt something coming. I wasn't sure what it was or what was happening as I shot a huge load of silky white cum all over my dad's expensive pants, but I didn't care. I kept hammering away, imagining what it was going to feel like to have sex with my hot wife, what it was going to be like to bend her over that kitchen table and slide into her. So warm and wet and perfect. It was almost as if I KNEW what I was going to do to her, as if I had some kind of phantom memory of all the times my dad had fucked her in the past.

 

     Blowing one final load, I stood, wiped my pants off with a moist towel and put my cock away. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, straightened the tie my son gave me for my birthday last month and wondered how HE was handling all this. 

     I remembered being in that stall, trying to hide from gym class and Jimmy Messenger. Was my dad facing my junior high beast right now? A part of me felt bad for him, but another part of me didn't care. That wasn't my life anymore. I was on my way home for lunch to plow into my hot wife. 

     I just hoped my son could concentrate on the positives. I know I was!