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"Rebecca!" Karen waved as she walked down the beach. "Wow, I didn't expect you to be here."

Rebecca turned, smiling as she saw her friend. "Karen, hi!  Nice swimsuit."

"Thanks, you too."

"Oh, this old thing?" She plucked at it. "I only wear this when I feel like a balloon."

"I... can't say that's ever happened to me."

"Oh, well I could show you, then." She waved her away. "Just be sure to stand clear, okay?" With that, she cracked her knuckles, took a deep breath, put her thumb in her mouth and blew.

She strode barefoot across the sands, wavy black hair blowing in the wind behind her.  Tall, tanned, and athletic, her red one-piece swimsuit hugged her form, leaving nothing to the imagination.  It was a clear day, and the beach had more than a few visitors, some of whom had noticed her arrival.  She knew she would attract attention - and even more, soon enough - though she paid it no mind.  What others thought, or would think, was of no concern to her.

Flora sighed, closing the door behind her.  It had been a hectic week full of meetings, conferences, more meetings, visits to factories, motivational speakers of dubious quality, still more meetings and, curiously, a visit by the police regarding an escaped convict posing as a motivational speaker.  At some point during the day she had resolved to strip off her suit and mini-skirt the second she got home, but when she finally arrived she was too worn out to even put in the effort, only wanting to relax and not have to worry about anything.  She would have liked

She could already feel the difference. Before, the car had been a separate entity, something she drove, under her command. Now they were together, one thing. She was three-quarters machine and one-quarter woman.  Before she was sleek, with a runner’s body and suggestive curves. Now she was downright aerodynamic, with a three-liter engine giving her the kick she needed to really move.