"The Body Swap Fiasco: When Best Friends Ruin Intimate Moments"
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My wife, Lisa, and I were just about to have one of our intimate moments. She was slipping into my favorite piece of lingerie she owned when suddenly, my best friend Ricky (who has the most inconvenient superpower known to mankind – randomly swapping bodies with people) decided to steal the show in the worst way possible.
“God, how do they wear this stuff? It’s pinching me, man. God damn!” The unmistakable voice of Ricky came out of Lisa’s mouth as she wobbled forward, trying to adjust the lacy contraption around her (currently his) rather significant assets.
“Ricky?! Are you kidding me right now?” I yelled, trying to cover my eyes out of sheer second-hand embarrassment. “We were just about to… you know!”
Ricky, in all his awkward glory, managed to stammer, “Man, I'm so sorry! I was just thinking about you guys and… BAM! Here I am. How do you even manage with these, though? They’re like... balloons!?” He stared down at Lisa's - now his - chest with wide, bewildered eyes, poking one for good measure.
I groaned, not sure who I was more embarrassed for – myself, Lisa, or Ricky. “Ricky, stop fondling my wife’s body! You just have to think about yourself or your real body, and you’ll go back. Come on, man.”
He was struggling, clearly caught up in the anatomical novelties he accidentally acquired. “Alright, alright! I’m thinking… I’m thinking…” he chanted, eyes squinting in concentration. Then he got distracted by Lisa’s long hair and began twirling a strand around his - her - finger. “Dude, this hair is so silky. And these nails! How does she not poke an eye out?”
“Ricky, the only one at risk of being poked right now is you, with whatever personal part you’re about to break from bending like that!” I snapped, half angry and half laughing at the absurdity. “Focus, man! Get out of my wife’s body already!”
Ricky shut his eyes again, his lips moving silently as he chanted something or another under his breath. “You know, it’s a lot harder than it looks. Concentrating, I mean. Also, these hips! How does she sit comfortably? It’s like having two basketballs attached to your sides! And this-this laundry Lingerie? It feels like I’m wearing a cheese grater.”
Thankfully, before my brain could fully process his ridiculous commentary, there was a slight blur and a pop. Ricky was gone, and Lisa was back, looking severely disoriented as she stumbled backward onto the bed.
“Oh for heaven’s sake,” she muttered when she realized what had just happened. “Again? Really, Ricky?”
Ricky was nowhere to be seen, but his voice echoed from the next room. “Sorry! It really wasn’t on purpose this time!”
Lisa and I exchanged a look that screamed, *We need a new best friend*.
“Maybe some other time, honey,” I offered, trying to salvage some semblance of peace for the evening.
“Yeah… Maybe after you burn that piece of clothing,” Lisa replied, pointing at the lingerie accusingly.
At that moment, Ricky poked his head sheepishly back into our room. “You know, on the bright side, I really learned a lot about your features tonight, Lisa. You should write a manual on how to operate them—they’re complicated!”
We stared at him in disbelief.
"Ricky… OUT."
He shrank back, closing the door behind him with a mumbled apology, leaving Lisa and I to finally dissolve into a fit of laughter at our ludicrous lives.
This story was generated by user zach3 with assistance by one of OpenAI’s large-scale language-generation model; prompts used to help generate the story are shown below.
Images were generated with OpenAI's AI system, DALL·E 2, or uploaded by the user.
AI Prompts
Prompt: “God how do they wear this stuff it’s pinching me man god damn.” Was what my buddy said after he had somehow activated his swap power just minutes before my wife and I were going to make love and she was putting on my favorite lingerie. He struggles at controlling his powers. Every so often he deals randomly with people. I guess must’ve been thinking of me or my wife because right after she has put on her lingerie, He had full control over her body. He seems rather curious about her large breasts, long hair, long nails, wide hips, and big butt. He definitely doesn't find the lingerie comfortable though. Write the story with a lot of dialogue.
Response: My wife, Lisa, and I were just about to have one of our intimate moments. She was slipping into my favorite piece of lingerie she owned when suddenly, my best friend Ricky (who has the most inconvenient superpower known to mankind – randomly swapping bodies with people) decided to steal the show in the worst way possible. “God, how do they wear this stuff? It’s pinching me, man. God damn!” The unmistakable voice of Ricky came out of Lisa’s mouth as she wobbled forward, trying to adjust the lacy contraption around her (currently his) rather significant assets. “Ricky?! Are you kidding me right now?” I yelled, trying to cover my eyes out of sheer second-hand embarrassment. “We were just about to… you know!” Ricky, in all his awkward glory, managed to stammer, “Man, I'm so sorry! I was just thinking about you guys and… BAM! Here I am. How do you even manage with these, though? They’re like... balloons!?” He stared down at Lisa's - now his - chest with wide, bewildered eyes, poking one for good measure. I groaned, not sure who I was more embarrassed for – myself, Lisa, or Ricky. “Ricky, stop fondling my wife’s body! You just have to think about yourself or your real body, and you’ll go back. Come on, man.” He was struggling, clearly caught up in the anatomical novelties he accidentally acquired. “Alright, alright! I’m thinking… I’m thinking…” he chanted, eyes squinting in concentration. Then he got distracted by Lisa’s long hair and began twirling a strand around his - her - finger. “Dude, this hair is so silky. And these nails! How does she not poke an eye out?” “Ricky, the only one at risk of being poked right now is you, with whatever personal part you’re about to break from bending like that!” I snapped, half angry and half laughing at the absurdity. “Focus, man! Get out of my wife’s body already!” Ricky shut his eyes again, his lips moving silently as he chanted something or another under his breath. “You know, it’s a lot harder than it looks. Concentrating, I mean. Also, these hips! How does she sit comfortably? It’s like having two basketballs attached to your sides! And this-this laundry Lingerie? It feels like I’m wearing a cheese grater.” Thankfully, before my brain could fully process his ridiculous commentary, there was a slight blur and a pop. Ricky was gone, and Lisa was back, looking severely disoriented as she stumbled backward onto the bed. “Oh for heaven’s sake,” she muttered when she realized what had just happened. “Again? Really, Ricky?” Ricky was nowhere to be seen, but his voice echoed from the next room. “Sorry! It really wasn’t on purpose this time!” Lisa and I exchanged a look that screamed, *We need a new best friend*. “Maybe some other time, honey,” I offered, trying to salvage some semblance of peace for the evening. “Yeah… Maybe after you burn that piece of clothing,” Lisa replied, pointing at the lingerie accusingly. At that moment, Ricky poked his head sheepishly back into our room. “You know, on the bright side, I really learned a lot about your features tonight, Lisa. You should write a manual on how to operate them—they’re complicated!” We stared at him in disbelief. "Ricky… OUT." He shrank back, closing the door behind him with a mumbled apology, leaving Lisa and I to finally dissolve into a fit of laughter at our ludicrous lives.
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