Mom Swap 4-Pack : Books 5 – 8

by Tori Westwood

What would you do if you woke up in the body of your own Mom?  Freak out, of course, but after that … then what?

Find out how mature women’s sons behave when they’re granted the chance to live for a time in the body of their own mothers.

Contains books 5 – 8 of the ‘Mom Swap’ series : ‘Foreign Bodies,’ ‘The Changing Room,’ ‘A Change Of Scenery,’ and ‘Cuffed.’


“Mom?” Caleb called.

He moved to the bathroom door.  He could hear his Mom singing beyond.

“Mom?” he called louder.

“You’re back!” she beamed.

“Is someone in there?” Caleb asked.

His Mom laughed.  “Sadly not.”

Caleb was suspicious, and more than a little jealous.  He wasn’t seeing any action, despite his efforts, yet here was his Mom making acquaintances without even trying.

He put a knee to the tiled floor and stared through the keyhole.  He could make out his Mom’s outline beyond the clear shower-curtain.  Her hands moved over her body and Caleb watched, peering around for any signs of another man.  She continued to sing, unaware of her naughty son.


The water shut-off but Caleb’s gaze lingered, just long enough for his mother to pull back the curtain and fill in the blanks from when she’d walked from the water before.  Now there was nothing to imagine.  Caleb was staring right at his mother’s naked body and it looked incredible.

He admired her for a second or so longer and then felt a pang of guilt.  He rushed up from the floor and quickly fixed himself a glass of water.  He sat at the table just as the bathroom door opened.  His Mom emerged in a towel that wrapped around her body.

“Did you have a good night?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” Caleb said, trying his hardest not to look suspicious and failing miserably.

“What have you been doing?” his Mom asked.  She wore a naughty smirk.

‘Did she know?’ Caleb thought.  “Nothing,” he said.  “I saw the strangest guy on the way back.”

“Oh, yeah?” his Mom said, and now it was her turn to be nervous.

“Some old guy,” Caleb said.  His Mom relaxed.

“What was he doing?”

“Just … walking.”

“It’s gone midnight.”

“I know!  He was just … sauntering along.”

“What did he say?”

Caleb wondered if he should mention it.  “He said I should learn to live life a little slower.”

“Not bad advice,” his Mom said.  “I’m gonna hit the hay.”

“No problem,” Caleb said.

In all of Caleb’s years he’d never seen so much of his Mom’s bare skin.  It was as though she was deliberately tempting him, or a higher-power was.  Nineteen-year-old guys are notoriously easy to tempt and Caleb was finding the allure hard to resist.

He sat at the table, his cock still hard from before.  He thought of his naked mother and he thought of retiring to his room to masturbate over her.  He wondered if he’d be able to deal with the shame afterwards.  Little did he know, but there was a much bigger challenge afoot.

Caleb did eventually retire to his room, but not to masturbate.  Instead he slept, dreaming of how he might spend tomorrow.

He awoke the next day to the sun bleeding in from behind the thin curtains.  He kicked his feet out of bed and then looked down at his long, smooth legs.  They didn’t look familiar.

Caleb touched them with his soft fingers, his brow furrowed.  He looked back to the bed for a sign of his missing leg-hair, then he looked again to his shins.  It was then that he realized he was looking over a pair of big breasts.

“What the—” Caleb began.  He looked to the door and then the mirror that sat opposite on the small dresser.

He stood up and moved to it, crouching and staring at his Mom’s naked reflection.

“What the fuck?” he burst.

He ran to the window and let more light in, then he rushed back to the mirror to check he wasn’t seeing things.

This time a clearer image of his mother stared back.  She wore a look of shock that he could feel.  She blinked when he blinked and when Caleb brought his hand to his face, so did the reflection.

“Holy fuck,” he hushed.  “I’m … Mom!”


About the Author

I write those dirty, taboo, incest stories that you have to read in secret.  The kind that get you hot and weak at the knees.  They're wrong, but oh-so right!
I enjoy writing them as much as you enjoy reading them, and I think that comes across in my descriptive, explicit style.
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