Early in the morning, I parked the van in the multi-storey car park and sat there looking out over the rooftops of the shopping centre which serviced the needs of this drab London suburb, without really noticing what I was looking at. My mind was elsewhere.

It was a major decision I was taking; the potential for disaster was huge, but the rewards, if it all worked as promised, would be immense: a dream come true, if only for a day.

I looked down to the small pill case in my hand, surprised that I was holding it, as I did not remember having taken it out of my pocket. I flipped open the lid and looked at the contents. There was just one pink pill, no larger and no more prepossessing than any other pill I had ever seen, except maybe for the colour and - I looked closer - a small, white, Chinese character on the side of the pill. The man who I had bought it from, for over £200, had been very clear in his instructions to me. The effect would only last for 24 hours and I should plan everything out for that day, down to the last detail. I should aim to not miss a moment, as I could only do this once, as to take a second pill may kill me.

I closed the lid of the pill box again and sat back, shutting my eyes, to go through the plan in my head again. I had spent weeks planning for this moment, I could not have forgotten anything!

My eyes snapped open. I was wasting valuable time. I was procrastinating because of my nerves. I climbed out of the van and gave the reflection in the van's window a stern look. Then, a moment of doubt and my hand rubbed my chin. Should I have shaved? Well too late now - if I returned home to shave, I may never come back here again. I refocused my eyes through the window to check that I had not left anything behind that I might need and stepped round to the back of the van. I opened the back door and looked in to the neatly organised results of my weeks of planning. I climbed in, sat on the chair I had placed there, switched on the small light and shut the van door. I locked the van from inside so I would not be disturbed, then panicked - suppose I could not get back out! I pulled the handle and the dismal grey car park was once again revealed to me. I sighed, shook my head at myself and closed and locked the door again. Pull yourself together!

In the dim light cast by the van's interior lamp, I plugged in and switched on the brighter light of the battery pack. I found my bottle of water and took a quick swig; my nerves had made my mouth dry. Right! It was now or never. I took a deep breath, popped the pill into my mouth and took a good swig of water. I then shut my eyes, sat back and waited.

Nothing!

My stomach gurgled loudly in the quiet of the van. I opened my eyes and looked across at the reflection in the long mirror opposite me. My familiar face looked back. What a waste of money! Disappointment started to wash over me. My reflection started to blur; was I actually crying? But when I looked at the finger which had just rubbed my eye it was dry. As I stared at it, my finger seemed to be getting smaller, narrower. I extended all my fingers, opening my hand in front of my face. It was not just my finger, my hand was also shrinking. It seemed to be changing shape and texture too. The callouses were softening, the lines on my palm were becoming shallower.

In excitement, I dropped my hand and looked back to the mirror. My reflection was still very blurry. "What the...!?" I felt something crawling down my neck, spider-like. I jumped and moved to slap it away and only found long hair, but in the sudden movement I had knocked my glasses askew and when I looked back to the mirror, no longer looking through the lenses, I knew that magical pink pill was working.

The reflection was no longer of a middle-aged man, with hair going grey and too much belly. The clothes were the same, but the shape inside them had changed. Was still changing.

I jumped to my feet - and banged my head on the roof of the van. I grabbed the top of my head and sat back down. My hands felt a full head of hair: long, luscious hair, no bald spot. I moved my elbows apart and looked back at the reflection.

Looking back at me, in what were becoming a badly fitting suit was a woman - looking a bit like my ugly twin sister if I had one. As I watched, fascinated, the greyness of the stubble on my chin was changing, smoothing, pinkening. The shape of my jaw was changing too, my jaw bones were moving inwards, making my face more pointed. I was aware of a dull ache in my jaw, like I had just eaten a particularly chewy toffee. I continued looking at my face; my nose, which was quite broad and large was narrowing, reducing, turning up at the end, and the indent below my brow was filling, making my eyes deeper, larger. I was aware of a dull ache in my face as these changes gradually happened. My receding hairline was coming forward and my hair was darkening, browning back from the grey it had become. My skin was smoothing, I was now looking like a less ugly twin sister!

My eyes travelled down the reflection in the mirror. The clothes looked - and now felt - wrong. I wondered what the body inside them looked like. But I realised that I didn't have to wonder! I stood up - more tentatively this time - took my jacket off and started to unbutton my shirt, hands shaking with excitement. My wrists brushed against something - breasts! I slowed down the rate of my unbuttoning, enjoying looking at the skin gradually being revealed; much smoother than my usual skin - and with no hair on my chest, not that I had much, but now there was none. My fingers undid the last button and the shirt hung with a gap of a few inches apart, revealing a much flatter tummy than I was used to seeing. I slowly pulled the two bottom sides of my shirt apart, revealing more of my smooth, hairless belly. Gradually the two halves of the shirt moved apart. I could feel the roughness of the shirt sliding over my nipples. I realised I was holding my breath, not blinking as the last inch of the shirt slid away each side of a perky pink nipple; the sensation of the last rough stitching of the shirt travelling over my nipples producing an involuntary shiver in me from the wonderful sensation.

I shrugged the shirt off my shoulders and it dropped to the floor. I looked down at myself, for the first time not looking in the mirror, to the unusual sight of smooth, hairless skin and perky boobs and the ripe, pink, protruding nipples. My gaze passed on to my trousers, which were now loose and saggy around the waist, held up now by my wider hips. I unbuttoned them and let them drop, automatically wiggling to help them on their way. I looked at myself in the mirror and wiggled again. My god, I was sexy!

I stepped out of the crumpled heap of cloth, losing my shoes as I did so, realising how much my feet must have shrunk. My boxer shorts were also hanging strangely and I slipped them off to looking with relish in the mirror as I performed my sexy wiggle again. I looked to where my cock must be standing to attention, judging from how turned on I felt, only to see nothing but a neat bush of brown hair.

I moved my feet apart a little more and tentatively reached down below the bush, to feel soft vaginal lips. Instead of a rock-hard cock, my arousal betrayed itself as heat and moistness. I ran my finger along the crack of my new vagina and let out an involuntary moan of pleasure. I sat back on the chair and parted my legs, then parted my pussy lips so I could see myself in the mirror. I ran that finger along my vagina a few more times, then let it slide into the hot moist opening. Oh my god! That was incredible! I looked at the reflection of my body as I gently, even cautiously began to masturbate. Had my breasts got even larger? I squinted directly at them. I am sure they had. The hand, not engaged in rubbing my vagina moved up my body and moved over my right breast, fingers gently brushing the nipple. Oh, shit, that felt amazing too. My skin was alive with sensation as my middle finger continued to slide in and out of my pussy. My index finger joined it. Then they found my clit. I moaned louder and closed my eyes, living through each sensation. I snapped them open again to look at myself in the mirror. Looking back was a stunningly beautiful woman masturbating in a van above a pile of discarded male clothing: fingers now rapidly sliding in and out of her shining, wet cunt, while her other hand squeezed and rubbed her tits. The sight was the final straw and I had my first orgasm as a woman, bucking forward and back on the chair, which somehow stayed upright, completely consumed in the most incredible sensation. I now understood how it felt like for a woman, with waves of heat and pleasure ebbing and flowing through my whole body for second after precious second until I could cope no more. I slumped into a heap, exhausted. I vowed to myself to have as many orgasms today as I could manage.

After some moments to gather myself, I looked back in the mirror. I was now looking at a very beautiful woman. I seem to have lost 10-15 years in age. My boobs now looked to be a C or D cup even, and my figure was stunning, slim waist, wide hips and incredible legs. I was going to have fun in this body, but couldn't spend the day sitting on the van.

I looked over to the rack of clothes I had been secretly purchasing for the last few months. Of course, I could not have known what size I would be, or what would suit me, so there was a range. I opened a bag containing different sizes of underwear, first pulling out a pair of large "Bridget Jones" knickers. I discarded them and pulled out a black lacy thong. I pulled it on and it fitted perfectly. I looked in the mirror and smiled. Oh, man!

Next out of the bag came a lace, black suspender belt. I put it round my waist, but it was too loose. I dug again and came up with one two sizes smaller. Next I opened a pack of sheer black stockings. It took me a couple of attempts before I had them right. Next came the choice of bra. I had guessed right, I was between a C and D cup. In the end I chose a lacy, white C cup, because of how it pushed my new tits upwards. Nice rack! I thought.

My eye travelled along to the few party dresses, hanging on a rack on their coat hangers. My favourite one was a gold dress - consisting of not much material - with a short skirt, low cut top, plunging back, and the rest figure-hugging. I wondered if I had the figure for it, how it would look. I tried it on and looked in the mirror. I would have to lose the bra, but the rest was fantastic. Best of all, the dress would fold very small and not crease: I could take it with me to wear in the evening later. I took it back off and put it on the chair. Instead I chose a white, sleeveless blouse, with buttons that could be left undone, if required and a tight, short black skirt, which just covered my stocking tops. I chose a pair of shoes, whose heels were not too high - I wasn't sure how practiced I would be in walking in high heels and put them on. I put on a necklace, bracelet - with some difficulty (how did girls do this?!) and even a nice feminine watch, I had bought as an afterthought during my preparations.

Now I was on to the final accessories. I picked up a black handbag and carefully folded the gold dress into it. This left me enough room for a couple of other items: a spare thong, the cheap pay-as-you-go mobile phone I had bought, a wedge of cash and, after a few good sprays, my favourite ladies' perfume, sunglasses, a hairbrush, then after some very careful application, a lipstick. That had been something I had practiced for a few weeks: applying lipstick. Having looked at myself in the mirror, even by the less than perfect lighting in the van, I didn't need much make-up; I was gorgeous! But, as a man, I had always liked lipstick on a girl - so sexy!

I stood back to admire the effect. Perfect!

I opened the door of the van and stepped back out to the car park. A few more cars had arrived in the hour or so that I had been in the van, but the car park was devoid of people. I took the small magnetic box from the back of the van, locked the van, put the key in the box and affixed it, well out of view, in one of the wheel arches. I double checked that nobody had seen me, took a deep breath, and started the walk to the car park exit; to the outside world and adventure.

Leaving the safety of my van behind, I practiced walking like a woman across the multi-storey car park to the lifts. I had practiced walking like a woman in front of a mirror over the last few months, and had even watched myself on video a few times. It was much easier now I had the body of a woman - and a very gorgeous one at that - thanks to that small pink pill.

I pressed the button for the lift, and doors immediately opened on my right, with a grinding sound. Walking through the door, I was face to face with a full-length mirror. I almost stopped walking, at the wonderful sight - this was a much larger mirror than in my van and in the bright light of the lift I could see every detail. I was HOT!

I was busy admiring myself when I heard the sound of a disapproving tutting. In some embarrassment I only then noticed the short, elderly, black lady glaring at my preening. Shaking her head dismissively she punched a stubby finger at the lift button marked "G" and the doors ground shut. I smiled apologetically, but she turned away. I realised that she had probably never been as beautiful and sexy as I was now. She was jealous. I smiled to myself - if only she knew!

We reached the level for the shopping precinct and the doors ground open. With a winning smile at her, I flounced out, putting everything into my walk. Heels clicking, I walked purposefully through the mostly-empty shopping centre, swinging my hips and being as sexy as I could. I smiled at the startled, drab early shoppers. One elderly man, long beige raincoat, out shopping with his wife, stared open mouthed at me. I smiled and blew him a kiss from my red, lipstick-coated mouth and saw him go red and beam sheepishly at me. His wife looked confusedly at him, then following his gaze caught me winking and turned back furiously to bundle him away. I laughed and carried on my way. One guy walking the other way was staring so intensely that he walked into the edge of an empty stall. It seemed to catch him in a very painful place. I nearly offered to rub it better - but maybe not!

Leaving the shopping centre, I joined a small group of people on the pavement waiting at a pedestrian crossing. In my peripheral vision I saw a middle age man move closer to me. As the lights changed for is, and the group of people started to move, I felt his hand in the small of my back: "After you, my dear." As I moved forward, I was surprised to feel his hand slide down my back and pat my arse. Dirty old sod!

I walked up the hill to the station, feeling eyes watching me, went through the barrier and just made it on to the packed commuter train. I moved along the aisle between the packed seats. A young man, quite good looking had been watching me approach. He hitched a winning smile onto his face, stood up and in a deep voice, offered me his seat. I had been getting this train for years as a man and nobody had ever stood up for me. I carefully rubbed my pert bottom across his crotch as we squeezed past each other and felt his semi hard cock press against me. I let my hand trail across it too. I smiled and his pleasantly shocked expression, got to the seat and sat down, but I sat as a man would, and my tight black skirt and heels restricted me so I landed in a heap on the seat rather than a graceful ladylike descent.

The woman next to me huffed and I turned to apologise to her, feeling a bit flustered. When I faced forwards again, opposite me was a florid, bearded man, with bad glasses. He appeared to be in some consternation. I saw him look at my face, gulp then look downwards at my body. I suddenly realised I was sitting like a man too, with my legs apart . My short skirt had ridden up and the guy was getting a good eyeful of my stocking tops, my smooth thighs and, above them, my black, lace thong. I put my hands on the insides of my thighs and moved them up my legs. His eyes bulged, his face went even redder and his mouth hung open and he was actually starting to dribble. I began to worry for his health - I might give him a heart-attack soon, so I closed my legs trapping my hands in between my thighs. I turned my legs sideways a bit and smoothed down my skirt. The show was over for him.

I became aware of a man's crotch, just next to my left shoulder. Looking in the glass panel behind the florid perv opposite me, I could see it was the gallant young man who had given up his seat. He had a phone in his hand, but wasn't typing on it. He seemed to be holding it at a slightly strange angle above me. As the train jolted around a corner he was bounced forward and he was pressed against my shoulder briefly. I could feel his cock hard against my bare shoulder, which the thin material of my white blouse did not cover. Thin material. Low and tightly buttoned. I suddenly realised what was making him hard, and what he was doing with his phone - he was enjoying a down blouse experience!

I decided he deserved an extra treat for his earlier kindness and, shutting my eyes rested my head back against the seat, giving him even more of an even better view to film on his phone. I almost supposed I could feel the heat from him a few inches from my left cheek. It was hot on the train and I had to sue press a giggle as I thought of another treat for him. I fanned my face with my hand. Eyes almost shut - as my head was still back, I could just see his phone, with its small camera poised just above me. Keeping the look of being too hot, I fanned my face with my hand and then, taking my blouse just above the button , pulled it away from me, as if to let the air circulate, but actually giving the young man an unrestricted view straight down my blouse to my barely fettered tits. I wafted the blouse back and forth for a bit. I felt him shift slightly, maybe to get the best angle. My eyes snapped open. I was looking straight up into his camera. I winked and smiled, to show I knew exactly what was going on. I moved my shoulder slightly against his cock and felt him give a small shudder. I could smell a salty, slightly sweet smell. Had he actually just cum in his pants at the view of my tits. Surely not. I kept my head back and he filmed for another minute or so, before putting his phone safely away. A few minutes later we reached London Bridge station. I stood up - a lot more ladylike than when I had arrived. To pretend to steady myself, I held onto the back of my chair; my hand a mere couple of inches from Mr Cameraphone's straining bulge. As I moved round behind him, I let my hand trail across that bulge, giving his cock a little squeeze through the material of his trousers before I let go.

"Thanks for the seat. I hope you enjoyed the view" , I whispered huskily. In his ear. He jumped out of his skin and made to turn, but I was already edging between people in a bid to get off the train and into fresh air.

I walked down the platform, remembering to apply my sexy walk, through the ticket barrier, throwing a winning smile to the guard - much to his obvious pleasure- and headed down the escalator to the underground. I normally walked down on the left, but remembered my heels - low as they were - and stood on the right. I enjoyed the stares of the men (and some women) who were coming towards me on the up escalator. One enterprising young man, who had a bouquet of flowers in his hand, plucked a flower from the bouquet and passed it across to me with a flourish. I laughed genuinely and loudly as I took it. Thank you, I called to his disappearing shape.

The platform was crowded, as was the train, when one arrived a few minutes later, with the morning commuters as they headed off on the last leg of their journeys to offices in the metropolis. We all crammed together, doing our best to avoid eye contact, as is the London commuter's way. But it was almost impossible to avoid touching people. At the next station, as even more people got on we were pushed together. A, tall attractive man was next to me. I turned a quarter turn, so that I had my back to him. As the tube train lurched, he was pressed against my back and bottom. I could feel him behind me. I gently pressed my arse back into his crotch. He didn't back away. I moved gently against him, with an action that could be passed off as the motion of the train. After a short while, I was rewarded by feeling him start to harden - his cock pressed between the cheeks of my rather delicious arse.

Doing this, with a complete stranger, on a packed train and with so many people pressed around me was making me feel very turned on. I could feel my heat deep inside me. I was beginning to breathe harder as I worked my arse more and more. He was rock hard now and pressed against me. I could hear his breathing too, just behind me.

Suddenly the train jolted to a stop and the lights flickered, as they do. I made my decision instantly and turned to face him. I looked up into his handsome, if surprised face. I slipped one hand between us and the other high on his shoulder, fingers round the back of his neck. Deftly I unzipped his fly and saw his eyes widen in shock. I smiled at him and winked as I reached in to his suit trousers. He was wearing boxers with a button fly. I undid the buttons and pushed my fingers through them and wrapped them round his shaft. I pulled it out. I saw the panic in his eyes and he looked from side to side at the other passengers, then back to me. "Undo your jacket" I whispered, and he did, pulling it to either side of us. It wouldn't hide much, but it seemed to calm him a bit.

I held his cock, pressed against my belly for a moment, savouring its warmth, then started to slide my hand up and down the shaft. He let out a moan and half shut his eyes. The moan was loud enough to startle a woman to look up from her book and look at his face over the top of her reading glasses. Little did she know that his cock was out for her to see if she just looked down. This turned me on even more. I wanted to rub myself, for him to rub me, but he was standing rigidly, one hand holding onto a metal pole and the other by his side. The knuckles on the one holding the pole had gone white with the force of his grip. But, suddenly as if reading my mind, he put the arm by his side round behind me, the hand gripping my arse and pulling me hard against him. It was hard for me to masturbate him now, as my arm was trapped between us, but as the train jolted back into motion, our bodies separated enough for me to give his cock a few good tugs. "Oh God!!" He moaned through gritted teeth.

Suddenly we were at my station. "Come with me," I said. And, not waiting for an answer, led him out of the train by his cock - not caring who saw. There were a few startled gasps, so some people definitely did see. Not many people get off at that stop and the platform soon cleared. The train doors slid shut and the train jolted forward a few yards, then stopped again. Faces peered out at us, casually wondering why we were still standing on the platform.

I was standing there, holding the guy's stiff member, whilst he stood there meek and abashed. His cock must have been hidden from view by his jacket tails. I looked down at it. In my usual guise as a man, I had no interest in cocks, but since taking that little pink pill this morning, I seemed to have developed a fascination for them. His penis matched the rest of him: long, straight and fairly good-looking. I was suddenly filled with a craving to suck that cock; to suck and suck until he blew his load in my pretty mouth.

I looked wistfully back at all the people just a few yards away from us, locked behind their windows, crammed together in the train; some still idly looking at us. I looked back down to his cock, then up into his handsome face. "Fuck it!" I said, my decision made and I saw the look of panic come back into his eyes.

I quickly knelt in front of him, on the smooth concrete floor, pushed back his suit jacket so all on the train could see and took his cock in between my ruby red lips and began to suck. I put a hand on each cheek of his arse and pulled him to me. I heard him let out a high-pitched gasp and make to move away, but I gripped his arse harder and sucked more strongly, beginning to slide my mouth up and down his shaft. I looked up into his face and saw his stricken expression and had to stop myself laughing.

I heard muffled commotion from inside the train as people became aware of the show going on in front of them. I took my mouth off his cock and looked at the commuters watching open mouthed. I licked all round my lips, tasting his salty precum. I grinned at the faces and turned back to the job in hand - sliding my mouth over his penis again. I encouraged him to start thrusting with my hands on his arse, then suddenly his hands were behind my head and pulling my head on to him, his cock was filling my mouth, nearly causing me to gag. I looked up at him and his face had transformed: he was no longer embarrassed, but his base animal instincts had taken over and all his focus was on reaching his climactic goal. Suddenly with a series of even stronger thrusts, I felt his cock swell and it seemed even hotter, then a fountain of salty-sweet, sticky semen hit the back of my throat. I swallowed the first spurt involuntarily, but then kept the next loads in my mouth as he shot them into me with animalistic grunts, his face contorted with pleasure.

When his thrusts had finally stopped, trembling, he slipped out of my mouth, I turned my head to our audience and opened my mouth wide to show them all his cum. I then closed my mouth and drank it all down. I opened my mouth to my audience again.

Then the funniest thing: they all began applauding! Even the prudish lady with the book gave me a smile and even a thumbs up. My gallant victim helped me to my feet and, in a moment of pure comedy we bowed to our audience, then burst out laughing. I threw my arms round his neck and gave him a big wet kiss, as finally the train began to pull out of the station.

"Errr. Wow! Thank you!" He said. "I don't even know your name..."

"And I don't know yours either." I said. "Let's leave it like that - it is more exciting."

"It's going to be difficult," he said worriedly. "I have a fiancée and..."

"... And you've just had an amazing blow job from a very beautiful lady in front of a train-load of people!" I said, laughing. "Let's just leave it at that, and you'd better hope nobody on that train recognised you!"

"Thank you." He said earnestly and smiled handsomely at me.

I could hear people arriving on the platform behind me and glanced down. "You'd better put that away!" I admonished him. I reached up and kissed him again. "Goodbye, Mr Stranger. Your cum tasted divine!"

I turned on my heel and walked away from him, towards the Way Out sign I put on my sexiest walk for him and hoped he was not being too distracted by the sight of me to remember to put his dick away!

To be continued.....