“Fuck,” I said, “Fuck.”

The laughter caught me by surprise, so unexpected it took me half a minute to even really register that it was coming from me. The whole thing was so ridiculous, after all, I mean who would have thought the guy was telling the truth?

I had a bottle full of pills that could turn me into a woman. I could turn into a woman at will.

A woman. I could be a woman.

What the hell was I going to do with that?

That revelation, the idea that I had spent all of this money on something that actually worked but that I had no use for it, set off another giggle fit and this one sent me sliding down the wall and curling up into a ball as the laughter turned to heights of hysteria that brought tears to my eyes.

I think lying on that ground might have been rock bottom for me, but for one simple fact that struck me and sunk in its hooks and wouldn’t let go. A revelation so sudden and so severe that it made the laughter stop and made me actually start to think.

This was exciting.

Stumbling into adventure, even sideways, was still stumbling into adventure. Getting out of your routine and breaking out of your rut? Well, I could hardly think of a better way to do that than to become someone completely new.

Because being her? Well that brought personal reinvention to a new level.

Almost in a rush I pushed myself up to my feet and ran into the bedroom, tugging open the door to my walk-in closet and starting at the full-length mirror on the back of it. I looked at myself, really looked at myself, taking my time and turning slowly, running my eyes up and down the length of me to take in every last inch of my new form.

And in taking time, I learned to appreciate it. I finally started to register the beauty right there in front of me, to see things that I hadn’t seen before.

Like how remarkable she really was. She didn’t look like she had an ounce of fat on her and when I pinched her sides, her thighs, all the places that I had that sticky and stubborn flub in my other body, my fingers were met with a firm and toned body.

That isn’t to say that she was hard. She wasn’t carved out of wood or anything like that and even if she was defined there was still a softness to her, a gentle femininity that was never belied by her fit and muscular body.

Her skin was amazing, smooth and even and actually, almost unbelievable, tanned. Her nipples were a little puffy and delightfully pink, hardening up into buds when my attention turned to them or when my fingers poked experimentally at them.

I found that her face was absolutely gorgeous when she smiled. Not just a slight smile but a big and boisterous one. I found that her eyes sparkled with delight when she found out each thing about herself that she loved. When I grabbed her ass and squeezed, feeling how firm and toned it was, she laughed and I don’t know that I’d seen anything quite as remarkable in my whole life.

I started to fall in love with my own reflection, and that love quickly turned to lust.

Because my investigations had been physical as well as visual. When I found something new I would stare for a while before touching it tentatively. A poke would turn to a caress, sometimes with a squeeze following afterward. And the gentlest of touches always followed that, fingertips just brushing over the skin and making goosebumps stand out on it, making her gasp and making a flush run under her skin that blossomed out red and demanded attention.

By the time I finished exploring her body I was staring my reflection in the eye, my need palpable and easy to read as I watched my breasts rise and fall with my heavy breaths, as I watched her eyes go wide and a smile kiss at the edges of her lips, twisting them up in wicked delight.