The other day, my roommate Mark suddenly got sick―like, really sick. His fever was through the roof, and he complained that his body ached all over and that his gut was in knots. At the time, I thought he’d just caught a bad flu or something, and I was more than happy to let him self-quarantine in his bedroom to avoid catching it myself. But that was almost 24 hours ago. I hadn’t heard a thing from him since, and I was beginning to get worried.
But before I could go check on him, I suddenly heard his bedroom door open. Mark slowly stumbled into the living room on shaky legs, wearing just a zipped up hoodie to cover himself. He looked weirdly... different, and it wasn't until he unzipped his hoodie that I finally understood why. As I stared speechless at the two ample breasts hanging from Mark's chest and the tight little slit sitting between his thighs, I realized that this was no ordinary flu.
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