Coffee addict

I used to drink so much coffee, that my heart rate was always through the roof. i enjoyed my coffee black and with no or almost no milk. Everywhere I went, i had to try the local coffee. One day, in Paris, I saw a nice little coffee shop, the day was cold, and I felt like having some jot coffee to warm myself up. As I took my first sip, I felt something weird happen inside of me, I couldn’t tell what it was, but it felt good, even somewhat arousing.

I kept on drinking, until I finished my first cup. I asked for one more coffee in a disposable cup. I walked to my hotel room, I noticed guys were looking at me. And it wasn’t until I saw myself in a window’s reflection that I noticed what had happened. I was no longer a man, I was a beautiful french woman. I should have hated it, but it felt right. Anyone in their right mind would have walked back to the coffee shop. But instead I went back to my place, where I finished my drink, and smiled at the possibilities my new form would bring.

I don’t know if my transformation would be permanent, but just to make sure, I kept on having one cup of their delicious coffee every day. I moved to France, changed my name, and started dating a guy named Pierre.