Take her car.

“Oh god, I hope she’s not due for her period. I don’t think I could handle that,” I said out loud as I rummaged through her purse.

I found what I needed, cash, plastic, I.D, and keys. “I hope she keeps the tank full,” I said as I gathered my things and headed down to the garage. As I got the garage, a beautiful red Porsche convertible greeted me. I hopped in and fired up the willing engine. It responded with a road. Tires peeling on asphalt signaled my departure. I had my plan. I had to get home to find the bottle and return my lift back to me. As I cruised down the road, a passing thought hit me. ‘If I’m stuck in the body of Jessica Alba, is she stuck in body?’ The thought scared me. Getting back to that bottle was my only focus now.

Luckily the tank was full. I didn’t want to stop and ask for directions as I assume they would know me, and that wouldn’t be good. I put my foot down and felt the roar of the engine and headed out on whatever road I was on. I figured if I went far enough away from the city, I’d be safe if I needed to get directions. Hollywood was no place for me right now.

I sped through curves and past buildings, as gawkers stared. “Who was that,” They would ask at my passing. Soon, the scenery became a blurred memory. Her car handled well and I was enjoying my drive, and for a moment, I forgot about my predicament. The hum of the engine, the wind in my face, and the power under the hood kept me pleasantly distracted. As I hit open country roads, my drive was becoming quite fun. I was racing through curves and up and down steep hills, feeling like I was in a car commercial. I can honestly say I felt a bit aroused. As the driving experience took me, I became lost in a world of speed and pure driving pleasure. I was easily doing 80 and the speedometer kept climbing. “Eahhhhhhh,” I screamed as I tore up the roads.

I had completely forgotten my situation when it all came suddenly crashing down around me.

Red and blue lights in the mirror caught my attention.

“Shit Shit Shit,” I screamed.

“Oh my god what am I going to do,” I said out loud as panic set in. I felt scared and that was new to me. I was stuck in Jessica Alba’s body and not feeling too good about talking my way out of a speeding ticket. In addition, I was a lone woman on a deserted country road, and that was really frightening me.

As his motorcycle pulled up behind me, I collected myself.

“Good afternoon officer,” I said.

“Do you have any idea how fast you were going back there,” he asked?

Normally I’d weasel my way out of this, but I lacked any self-confidence, as I was not entirely myself. I tried a different approach. I played the dumb chick. I kind of stared at him and paused a moment.

“You were doing over 95,” he stated.

“Oh gosh, I didn’t realize I was going that fast,” I said in a slightly flirty voice. I explained to him that I was having a bad day and that I was definitely not feeling myself. The truth never hurts I figured. He then asked for my license and registration and I prayed she kept it in the glove compartment. ‘Shit,’ I cursed under my breath. It wasn’t there. I handed him my license and explained that I couldn’t find my registration. I used my flirty voice and tried to act demure. “Please step out of the car,” he said. I got out of the car.

“Well Miss Alba, I’ll have to run this through,” he said as he looked closely at my face and the picture. ‘Shit,’ I thought. He recognized me. As I stood there, I began to notice things, feel things. I could smell his musky scent combined with his leathers. Something stirred within me.

He handed me back my license. “Everything about you checks out Miss but I’m afraid you will be getting a ticket with a stiff fine. You were going 97 in a 55 zone.” He stood close by as he wrote the ticket and a strange feeling overcame me. I can’t describe it except it’s like that feeling you get when you’re at a bar and you ask someone to go home with you and she says yes. It was that slightly queasy butterfly feeling, but it felt pleasant.

“I really wish you wouldn’t give me a ticket," I pleaded. “I’m sorry miss,” he said and as he continued to explain, his words had started to affect me. I didn’t understand what was happening. Something was heppening to me. When he finished writing the ticket, he handed it to me, I looked at him and he looked at me. Something was happening and I couldn't describe it.

I was attracted to him. I couldn't believe it. I could feel my body become affected while he spoke to me. I was getting aroused and I couldn't control it. I tried to look away, to resist these feelings, but something happened and I was lost.

'I must escape,' I thought. 'I can't let this happen to me. I need to get back to my body. Just finish giving me the damn ticket,' I pleaded in my mind.