Incitar

The black yoga outfit clings to Linda's borrowed body like a second skin—the high-waisted leggings hugging every curve of her hips, thighs, and ass, the fabric stretching smoothly over her athletic frame. The long-sleeve crop top sits just below your ribs, revealing a sliver of midriff while still feeling modest and comfortable. The material is soft, breathable, with just enough compression to feel supportive without being restrictive. You study your reflection. Linda's face stares back—sharp green eyes, angular cheekbones, auburn hair falling in loose waves past your shoulders. The body beneath the black fabric is lean and toned, built differently than your own: narrower waist, wider hips, longer legs. The yoga clothes accentuate every line and curve, transforming a stranger's physique into something that almost feels like a new version of yourself. You turn slightly, watching the way the fabric moves with you, the way the leggings emphasize the shape of an ass you've never had before, the way the crop top reveals just enough skin