Michaela focused as best she could on her turns as she alternated direction. ‘Do you have to?’ Her voice was a little quieter, but with purpose �... it was a sign for him to recognise that she was trying to work on her warm-ups. He rose to his feet. ‘I know, I know – just wait, though.’ Michaela released a soft, frustrated sigh and stopped – the insistent male made his way behind her, having rested his cup on the window ledge in passing, his hands gently massaging her shoulders in anticipation. Knowing that she still had no driver's license, and having had her fillof the bus, she called a cab.Chapter #6She asked the cab driver to let her out up the street from the club,not wanting anyone to see how she had gotten there. This wasCalifornia, after all, where only tourists travel by cab. Entering thebar, she did a quick scan of the territory. The crowd was light,mostly twenty-somethings and, as you would expect, all female exceptfor a few of indeterminate gender. She noticed one. I will be on that train again soon.What would you do???I did meet him again.I got on the same train the next day. I had a large flat package. I stood in the same place, and he got on at the same stop and stood in front of me. I was ready for him. I had on tracksuit bottoms with a Velcro fastener at the front but I had taken out the Velcro.Sure enough he bumped against me and he felt I was already hard. No one could see anything for the package I was holding, so when he felt for me I had my cock. But "me" was a smallpretty woman with short dark brunette hair cut in what use to be called apixie cut. I had perky breasts, a tiny waist, nice hips and legs. I knewthis was normal and this was how I looked.But I also knew yesterday I was George Barnhill a seventy-six year oldman so what happened? Then I remembered the last thing that I did beforeI woke up to the new me.I took a job as the Barista at the Magic Bean Coffee House and CuriosShoppe and shook the owners hand.I looked at my body some.