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“Seriously Dean, calm down. Freaking out won’t get you anywhere.”
“Easy for you to say,” Dean griped, unable to tear his gaze away from the soft curves of his body. His new very female body.
“Don’t worry, you won’t be stuck like that for long. At least the fix is simple, right?”
“Again, Sam, that’s easy for you to say.”
Sam snickered. Why hadn’t the witch cast a spell on him? Why did it always have to be Dean stuck with the weird-ass curses. “This is so fucked up,” he whimpered.
“I dunno,” Charlie chimed in. “I think it’s kinda fun. I’ve always wanted a dick.” They both stared at her and she shrugged. “Just for a day, y’know.” She grinned, and it was the weirdest thing in the world for Dean to see his own face grinning down at him.
He had a moment of extreme vertigo and had to look away.
“Okay,” said Sam, holding back laughter. “So… are you doing this?”
“Not with you here, we’re not,” Dean protested, feeling small and snappish and not at all in the mood to be fucked by his own body.
Sam just snickered again, walking backwards out of the room. “You two have fun then!” he called. “Don’t break any of the furniture!” He closed the door behind him and Dean was left with Charlie in his bedroom. He sat down with a humph and the bed squeaked in protest. Even the memory foam didn’t remember him. He stood up again.
“Come on, Dean,” Charlie cajoled, “this will be fun!” She pulled off her clothes—Dean’s clothes. Still blood splattered and dirty—and turned to the mirror, admiring the body that Dean had painstakingly created. “Ooft,” she said, running a hand up her abs. Dean couldn’t help the spark of pride as she turned to the side to catch a glimpse of her ass. “Nice. You’re almost enough to turn a girl off skirt.”
“Almost?”
“Don’t fish for compliments, jackass. Take off my clothes.”
Dean’s heart stuttered. It had somehow not occurred to him that he was going to have to get naked, too. “Um,” he whispered. He fumbled for the buttons on Charlie’s coat, and let them slip free. He was wearing a singlet and jeans underneath. They clung to his body as he moved, reminding him once again that this was not the body he was used to. “Girl’s clothes don’t have to be this tight, do they?” he grumbled.
“Tell that to the fashion industry.”
Dean carefully slipped the singlet over his head, and kept his eyes closed as he pulled down the jeans. “Is it terrible?” he whispered, not daring to look down.
“Dude, that’s me you’re talking about. You’re slamming right now. Hottest I’ve ever seen you.”
Dean risked it. He looked down. It wasn’t… terrible. He was wearing a bra. Okay, he could deal with that. It wasn’t super girly. It wasn’t even pink. It was blue and soft and… very practical. He breathed a sigh of relief and looked down further. Charlie’s underwear was, well. A little bit harder to handle. Blue again but frilly on the edges and… very soft… And it was all… fine. Totally fine. He was fine.
“…Dean?” Charlie hazarded. “You okay there buddy?”
“Um,” Dean managed. “I think so?”
“You’ve just been staring at my crotch for like a minute is all. You gonna get with the party?”
He coughed, and reached for the bra. And then… reached for it again. The hook wasn’t… accessible from the top. He fumbled for it awkwardly for a few seconds before Charlie took pity on him and stepped forward to help.
Dean blushed. “Usually I can see them,” he explained.
“Mmh,” Charlie murmured, hands still on Dean’s shoulders. Which was. Extremely unsettling. Since Dean was so small and the hands on his shoulders felt fucking enormous. “Underwear now,” Charlie told him, and she slid her hands down Dean’s back to pull the panties off. Inexplicably, Dean tried to cover himself, which was ridiculous because Charlie had definitely seen it all before.
She pushed him back onto the bed and he let her. It was cool. He was fine.
“Still with me?” she asked, and that was Dean’s face making concerned eyes at him.
“Totally,” he said, voice way too high to be believable. He was going to get through this. He was going to do it.
He kept telling himself that right up until he caught a glimpse of his—er—Charlie’s erection. And then. Oh no. Nuh uh.
“That thing is not going inside me,” he squawked, covering himself again even as Charlie rolled her eyes.
“I can take it,” Charlie promised.
“You’re not the one taking it!”
Charlie looked down. “It is a bit big, isn’t it,” she said conversationally. She wrapped her hand around it and stroked. “Wow. This is, uh… wow.” She was actually hard, and Dean could see a pearl of precome at the tip of her (his) cock. She licked her lips and stared at him.
“How are you hard right now?” he hissed.
“What?” She gave his body another lingering look that made Dean want to cover himself again. “Can’t a girl appreciate what a fine-ass body she has?”
“Not while I’m in it.”
“Fine, fine, fine. Just… come on, lay back. You gotta relax or it’ll hurt.”
“Excuse me?”
“Do you want me to go down on you first?”
Dean scrambled away, horrified. “No I do not want you to go down on me first.”
Charlie pulled him back into the centre of the bed. “You’ll like it,” she winked. “Promise.”
She nudged his legs apart and settled herself between his thighs and this… this he could do. This was just like a girl giving him a blowjob. Except it wasn’t a girl. Or, it was. Kinda. And it wasn’t a blowjob. Except… was it?
His breath was coming in shallow pants as Charlie used his lips to kiss up the inside of his thigh. This could not be happening right now.
He tensed impossibly further as Charlie closed the final inch and her mouth descended to the place where Dean was pretty sure his balls were supposed to be. Except she wasn’t sucking his balls into her mouth, she was licking at… oh jesus… she was licking across him. Across something that definitely should not be down there. For a moment it didn’t feel like anything except a warm-hot tongue, and then she licked higher and all the tension left his body at once, as though the pleasure had sucked it away.
“Holy shit,” he breathed. “What did you—aah.”
She licked at the same spot then sealed her lips over him and sucked. His back came off the bed as he arched into it, and he cursed loud enough that he momentarily expected to hear Sam’s laughter from outside.
“And that,” Charlie said, voice hot and smug between his legs, “is the clitoris.”
“I know… I know what… the clitoris… is…” he gasped. “Do that again.”
She obliged, and this time he felt a finger against him. Probing. He wriggled. He half wanted to escape—no way did he want that finger going where it was aiming for—but he also wanted to stay put. Wanted Charlie to suck his clit again and… Christ, was it always this good? Or was it just Charlie?
The finger slipped inside him and Dean tensed again. He was being fingered open. By a man. Did this make him gay? Holy shit he was going to get fucked by a dude. Except it was still… heterosexual. And no one ever had to know. Except Sam. Fuck. Sam totally knew.
“Stay with me,” Charlie whispered against him, and something scratched along his thigh. Fucking stubble. It burned, and he instantly apologised to every girl he had ever gone down on without shaving first. But it brought him back to earth and stopped the crazy train of his thoughts.
She mouthed at him again, licking up the inside of his… he struggled to remember an anatomy lesson that hadn’t been porn… his labia? Whatever it was felt amazing, but not as amazing as when she flicked her tongue out against his clit, a lightning spark that went right to his toes and curled up in his belly. Inside him, her finger crooked—he could actually feel it moving—and it was… too weird. Too wrong. But it moved again and he suddenly jerked with it. She was working him from the inside out.
A distant part of his brain acknowledged that he should probably be taking notes, but he couldn’t think past the swell of pleasure, low in his stomach. He writhed in Charlie’s arms but she was too big for him, and held him still with just a hand on his hip.
He didn’t know where to put his own hands—he liked girls holding his head when he went down on them, but what was the etiquette in reverse? Belatedly, he reached up to squeeze Charlie’s breasts (his breasts), and wow. They were the perfect size to roll in his palms and when he pinched at the nipples they felt like they had a direct line to his clit, sending sparks right down to where Charlie was quickly turning him into a puddle of ecstasy.
She slipped a second finger in alongside the first, and made the same move. Like she was beckoning him from the inside. Latched her mouth onto him to suck harder and warmth spilled up his spine. She did it again and it was like a balloon swelling in his belly, making him squeeze with pleasure. Toppling over an edge he hadn’t even realised he had been standing on. He shouted something and he was shaking. Eyes clenched shut. Legs tensing and flailing where they were spread out around his own body.
Charlie kissed him through it, and then grinned up at him, licking her lips. Which should not have been as hot as it was.
“Please take your fingers out of me,” he gasped, turned on and confused and embarrassed as hell.
Charlie complied. “You know, we can wait, if you want?” she said, crawling up his body which… put her dick a lot closer to his crotch than it had been before
He squeezed his eyes shut, but that was worse because he could feel the air cooling his… his pussy. Still wet from Charlie’s tongue. And his own juices. That knowledge was doing strange things to his libido. How was he still turned on?
“No,” he whimpered. “I… I want it.”
Charlie chuckled. “Okay, cowboy.” She crawled a little further, totally covering Dean with her body, and lifted one of his knees to bracket her hips. “Tell me if I need to slow down, okay?”
Dean nodded dumbly and hoped he would be able to talk if the situation arose.
Charlie reached between them to line herself up and Dean couldn’t really do anything except hold onto her shoulders and try to stay calm as she pressed up against him, and slid home.