She set up her phone in the living room, hoodie zipped to her chin, sweatpants loose, hair tied back.

The sound played, the beat dropped, and she raised her hand.

One wipe.

The mirror gleamed.

And that’s when he struck.

Her body wasn’t buried in layers anymore — it was stripped down, glowing in a neon bikini that clung to every curve.

He felt the sudden shift, the jolt of bare skin against elastic straps, breasts bouncing free where a hoodie had been.

Her soft gasp escaped as his own groan — the male mind inside her shocked at the raw exposure.

For just a few seconds, the camera caught it: the girl in a bikini she hadn’t been wearing a heartbeat earlier.

Her body moved like she meant it, hips swaying, chest jiggling with each playful pose.

But in the mirror, the glitch betrayed the truth.

Her reflection didn’t smile back — his face did. Bearded, grinning, trapped on her borrowed body.

Then the shimmer snapped.

She was back in her hoodie, panting, clutching at herself like she’d been touched by something inside the glass.

She deleted the clip instantly.

But he kept the memory — the heat of her body in a bikini, the thrill of the takeover — and a new hunger:

If he could dress them differently during the swap, what else could he change?