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I waited knowing that the number 347 would take me to the supermarket and a day's toil. As I got off the bus I greeted other females that were headed the short distance from the stop to the staff entrance of the huge store. Till 27 was the destination for my body, and we sat scanning the goods from the customers, no real thought in the work, just an action repeated over and over again.I did not like this, I did not want it, I wanted to be back as James Burton, back in my own body. A week, a whole week of this and I would go mad. The staid, mundane life of Sarah was not for me but until we returned to the club and saw that man again I was stuck inside her, learning all about her, feeling the discomfort of the hard plastic seat at the checkout. A tea break, 10 minutes in the morning and afternoon and 45 minutes for lunch. That was the only time that the body I occupied did not sit at the till. As Sarah swept her gaze around I saw others working there, filling shelves, helping. It was done!At ten p.m. I moved, buck naked, into my bedroom window. When the blind across the way rolled up, Janice was bare too, in all her big-busted, great-bellied glory. I gave her thumbs-up, and then we masturbated together. The sight of her swollen gut heaving up and down, and out, as her hips bucked set me off faster than I wanted but stronger than I'd ever managed on my own. Still, tomorrow I hoped to do better, MUCH better. The next morning I slipped out the kitchen door while my mother was in the living room, then angled quickly across Old Miss Rogan's back yard and around the rear of the hedge bordering the empty field. It was technically just a vacant lot, but out here at the edge of 1955 suburbia, the lot was no more than an extension of the fields and woods beyond it. The only street frontage was a dead-end turnaround that nobody ever used, well-masked by tall weeds and such. Miss Rogan's boundary hedge ran eight feet high down the whole side between her lot and the.
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