Summary: The Scoobies have a small accident that leads
to some major changes in their lives
Rating: NC17
Timing: Takes place S5, shortly after Family but before Fool for Love
Disclaimer All kinds of gender stereotypes were harmed
in the writing of this story. Any injured copyrights were unintentional
Notes Mydeira is my Beta Nazi, but she knows I'm her bitch.
This story was inspired by a very old Star Trek fanfic titled The Procrustean Petard,
by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath. Of course, they didn't actually have sex in theirs . . .
The title is a quote from Storm Front, by Jim Butcher.
You haven't lived until you've heard James say those three words
together in that soft, caramel rich voice of his . . . guh.
Chapter 6 When a Man Loves a Woman
“I look like Velma.”
Xander studied himself critically in the fogged bathroom mirror. His hair, still damp from his shower, curled in soft waves around his ears and neck. His face, reflected clearly in the small space he had wiped dry, was hopelessly round. But he had a nice mouth . . .
He tipped his head, trying to see his figure better through the condensation. Finally he gave up in frustration and wiped a bit more of the fog away, just enough to reveal his shoulders and . . . slightly lower. He turned left, then right, studying the slope of his neck and shoulders. Then, with a glance towards the bathroom door, he bounced up on his toes.
Whoa. Breasts.
He turned a little on his toes, studying them from all sides. Round, not too high, large rosy nipples spread out like melted silver dollars over the center of them. He lifted them, pulling and squeezing, watching them mold in his hands. He was surprised to see the nipples slowly contract into tight crinkly nubs with a slight tingle of electricity that shot somewhere near the base of his stomach. He’d seen Anya’s do this in response to his kisses and touches, but hadn’t realized the sensation wasn’t localized.
He ran his hands down over his round stomach. Not flabby (well, not entirely), and not skinny flat like Anya’s, just softly rounded, with gentle hips curving in at his waist. He looked down at his hands, small with delicate fingers resting on the curve of his stomach.
“Oh, what the hell.” He grabbed a dry facecloth and quickly wiped down the whole mirror.
And there he was in all his feminine glory.
The best word he could find to describe himself was plush. Gently curved waist, full hips, velvety full thighs. Not an example of womanly perfection by any means. But . . . nice.
“Did you say something?”
He squealed and snatched up his towel as Anya peeked into bathroom. “Honey!” he said, trying to arrange the towel to cover all the relevant bits. “I thought you were getting ready for bed?”
“I did.” She came all the way into the room, and Xander realized she was naked. Completely naked. And hard as a rock.
“Um.” He swallowed hard. “I think you forgot your pajamas.”
She looked down. “No, I didn’t. We hardly ever wear clothes to bed.”
“Don’t you think this should be one of the exceptions?”
“Why?” She looked genuinely confused.
“Because, sweetheart, we aren’t quite ourselves at the moment.”
“Yes we are. You’re Xander and I’m Anya. We love each other, and therefore we have sex.”
“Even though we’re . . .” He couldn’t finish.
She shrugged. “We’re still a boy and a girl, aren’t we? Which avoids your silly same sex taboo. I don’t see any reason for us not to have intercourse tonight.”
“But, Ahn . . .”
She frowned. “You don’t find me attractive in this form, do you?”
Xander didn’t know how to tell her it was quite the opposite. He-Anya was built long and lean, like a distance runner, all muscle, her chest bare of the soft, dark hair that welled up between her legs and framed her erection. He didn’t know how to explain that his old brain still recognized her as Anya, comfortlovercompanionpartnermate, and his new body reacted accordingly, making him hot and electrified in new and interesting places. He did want her, even like this, and he wasn’t sure what that said about him.
So, as usual, when faced with the unexplainable, he went for humor. “Isn’t that supposed to be my line now?”
Backfire. She stepped closer to him, and he could feel her cock prod gently into his stomach. “But I find you very attractive like this.”
“You do?” He stepped back and turned to look in the mirror again. “You don’t think I’m too . . . heavy?”
She moved behind him to meet his eyes in the now clear mirror, her warmly tanned skin contrasting starkly with his pale flesh. She rested her hands on his shoulders and then let them slide down his arms. “I think you are beautiful. All soft and round and feminine.” She bent her head down and kissed him softly at the base of his neck, and he was surprised when his whole body trembled. “Aren’t you curious?” she asked, gently placing kisses across his bare shoulder as her arms slipped around his waist. “Haven’t you wondered what it feels like for me when you touch my breasts, my derriere, my vagina? I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to get an erection.” She glanced down between them. “Although it seems to be more a matter of having than getting. Does this thing ever go away?”
“As much as you think about sex?” he breathed. “Probably not.”
“Hmm.”
“Anya, I’m just not so sure about this . . .”
It will be educational.” Her hands slipped upwards to cradle his breasts, letting her thumbs stroke across his nipples. He hissed and leaned back into her. “I can show you all the things I like, and you can show me all the things you like. When we’re back to our normal selves, think about how much better our sex life will be.”
“Unless I realize I’m gay.”
“You won’t,” she said certainly.
“How do you know?”
She turned him around and boosted him up to sit on the counter. “Because you like breasts too much.”
With that she kissed him, gently nudging between his thighs as she slowly explored his new mouth. Her lips felt strong on his, firm but gentle as she teased and coaxed him into returning the caress. Slowly he succumbed as the sensations of just their mouths meeting shivered through his body. He was the first one to attempt tentative forays with his tongue, which she eagerly reciprocated.
“It’s the man’s role to initiate these activities, isn’t it?” she asked against his mouth.
He slid his lips along to nuzzle at her ear. “Traditionally. But then we’ve never been traditional.”
“Still.” She pushed him back gently to let her mouth course down over his neck and shoulder to place pliant kisses and caresses along the curve of his breast. With a sharp catch of his breath, he closed his eyes to revel in the sensation. It was like static electricity under his skin, radiating out to his whole body. She gently massaged the left as her mouth focused on the right, lipping around the full curve of it in a descending spiral until her tongue whipped across the nipple. At his gasp of pleasure, she smiled and sucked the suddenly erect nipple between her teeth.
“Oh my god!” He clutched her head to him as she suckled at him, sending lines of hot fire shooting through him. She bit down lightly and he cried out at the sharp jolt that fired into his brain. With a long, languid lick, she shifted her attention to his other breast, repeating the work she had done on the other until he was whimpering over her head. She looked up at him with a slightly smug smile. “Did that feel good?”
He nodded weakly.
“Do you know what else feels really good?”
He shook his head.
She smiled brightly, then dropped her head even lower to run her tongue up through his folds, tapping his clit as she went by.
Something deep inside him flared and erupted, sending his body into convulsions. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak, could only let the waves of pure joy wash through him, leaving him limp and spent against the bathroom mirror.
Anya looked up at him with a soft smile. “Was that what I think it was?” he gasped out.
She nodded. “Did you like it?”
He knew his expression was incredulous. “Yes, I liked it. I liked it very oh fuck Anya!” he moaned as she went back in for another taste. “What are you . . .”
“You aren’t a man anymore,” she explained patiently between short, delicate licks. “You aren’t done after one shot. Now just relax or this won’t feel as good.”
Holy god, this could feel better? He didn’t know if he could survive it. But she braced an arm over his stomach to fondle his breast as she pushed him back, so he leaned against the mirror again and let her have her way with him.
Her head bobbed gently as she worked, her nose nudging against his clit with tiny electric pulses as her strokes became longer, more exploratory. It was amazing. As the sensations became more and more intense, he felt more and more diffuse, as though he were expanding. His heart pounded erratically, his breath coming in eager, unsteady pants. It was hard to differentiate her tongue from his own wet, hungry flesh, but each pass she made wound something tighter and tighter in him.
Suddenly something hard, edged, almost sharp began working its way into his tender flesh, and he realized Anya was sliding one long finger along the trail her mouth had just laid down. “Anya, no, I don’t. . .”
“Shh” she murmured soothingly, and her breath sent chills along his hypersensitized skin. She continued to probe with the finger, penetrating him slowly, as though she were looking for something. The gentle stretch, the friction of the rougher skin of her hands against his own soft tissue was astounding, and his hips began jerking in time to her gentle strokes as she focused her mouth on his nub, sucking and licking as she introduced a second finger into him. The small room was filled with sounds now, echoing off the tiles to reverberate in his ears. The last rational shred his mind retained was astonished to realize that the high whimpering pleas of desperation were coming from his own mouth, before Anya did something with the fingers she had buried deep inside him and the whole world disappeared in white hot blackness, his body bucking and sliding on the counter, knocking aside toiletries and appliances as he came and came and came.
When the world stopped spinning, he opened his eyes to see her still kneeling there, a proud smile on her face. “Do you see now why I like that so much?”
He drew a deep, shuddering breath and nodded as vigorously as he could.
She rose up, still standing between his slack legs, gathering him close to her chest. “And when we’re back to ourselves, you’ll do it more often?”
“I swear.” He nodded again, slowly finding breath to speak. “Every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to sleep. More on the weekends.”
“See?” She said against the crown of his head. “Something good did come of this.”
They were just quiet, holding each other as he finished coming down. But Xander quickly became aware of her erection prodding into his stomach. It couldn’t be comfortable for her. He let one hand fall to slide tentatively along her length. Her breath hitched slightly. “That feels good.”
He sucked up his courage and pushed her back, slipping to his feet and taking her hand to lead her to the bedroom. “Let me show you something that feels even better.”
He could do this, he psyched himself, grabbing two of the pillows and dropping them on the foot of the bed. If she could do it, he could do it. He laid down on his stomach, propping his chest up on the pillows to elevate his head as he held it past the edge of the bed. “Now come here.”
She did, her eyes wide, and it gave him some comfort to know she was unsure about this as well. He took her narrow hips in his hands, drawing her into position. Her cock jutted straight out from her body, so he didn’t even need to use his hands to guide it as he roughly tongued the seeping head.
It didn’t taste awful, and her groan of pleasure more than made up for it. He loved it when she went down on him, sucking and gobbling at him like he was the sweetest treat until he shot down her throat. He wanted her to understand how grateful he was every time she did this for him. After what she’d just done for him, he needed to.
He observed distantly as he wrapped his fingers around her shaft that she was shorter and chubbier than he was. Well, than when he had one. He propped his elbows up on the mattress and drew her closer, letting his tongue work firmly all around the head. She thrust automatically, and he put a hand on her hip. “Baby, I’m going to make this as good for you as I can, but if you do that, this is going to end early and with a horrible mess. So you’re going to have to hold really still, okay?”
Eyes even bigger, she nodded.
He smiled up at her. “You can make all the noise you want though, okay?”
Her high tenor voice nearly broke. “Okay.”
He bent back to his work, sliding his tongue along the vein and down to his coiled fingers, tightening his grip as he slowly started jacking her, taking her head fully into his mouth.
With an earth-shaking groan, she knotted her fingers in his hair, and he could feel her fighting her body’s instinctive need to force its way into him. “Oh, Xander,” she whimpered, and just getting those words out seemed to release a cascade of them as he resumed, sliding his mouth down and his fist up, to meet in the middle and retreat again. “Oh god, Xander, that feels so oh yes do it again oh please Xander yes please . . .”
She felt interesting in his mouth and in his hand. Like warm suede over cast iron. There was no give to it at all as he squeezed and stroked, a familiar motion that felt so odd with his smaller, softer hands. He pulled his mouth off, letting his hand slick up to the head, coating it in juice and saliva as he flexed his jaw, already a bit tired. This was a lot harder than he’d thought.
She moaned softly in complaint at the loss of his mouth until his now slippery hand began stroking hard and fast. She swore fiercely and let her hips move in time to his strokes. But when he encircled her again, she froze. He slid his mouth down to meet his fist, but when his hand retreated, his mouth followed. He braced himself but tried to stay relaxed as he took her deeper and deeper into his mouth. It was one of the benefits of this position, that it tilted his head up and opened his throat. They had used it often, but of course he’d never seen it from this perspective.
A steady, low stream of curses issued from Anya’s mouth, rewarding him for his hard work. He could feel subtle shifts under his hand and knew what they meant. She seemed to figure it out at the last moment, because she ripped herself away with a gasp.
“Anya?”
“Not the first time,” she gasped out, chest heaving, eyes wild. “I want . . . inside, the first time.”
His heart clenched. Point of no return. But god, she looked so desperate, so needy. He’d been left like that more than a time or two. He loved her too much. He couldn’t do that to her.
He rolled over and offered her his hand. “Come here, baby.”
She took his hand in hers, bending down to kiss him hungrily. He indulged in the sensuous slide of their lips, tasting himself faintly on her, wondering if she could taste herself on him. She pulled away and turned to open the bedside table, drawing something out. He heard a tearing sound, then saw her struggle with something.
He sat up. “What are you doing?”
She struggled a moment longer. “Oh, I can’t get this on!” She turned, and he saw she had a condom in her hand.
He smiled. “We don’t need those. You’ve been on the pill since before we started dating.”
“But I’m not the one who can get pregnant now.”
“Oh.” That was a bucket of cold water. “Let me help you with that.”
He took it from her and tightened it back up, then situated the center over her tip and with one deft hand motion rolled it down over her.
She groaned, and he was surprised to feel himself respond to the gesture as well. “Are you ready?” he asked her huskily.
She nodded. “Are you?”
In answer he drew her down onto the bed next to him, catching her mouth as he rubbed his body against hers. He reached down to cup her balls in his small hand and found them high and tight and so, so ready. He knew he was ready, too, could feel the muscles in his pussy clench and release. God, even just thinking the words sent shocks through him.
Anya loved it when he talked dirty. Maybe she still did?
“I want to feel you inside me, Anya.” The words came awkwardly at first as he switched roles and genders in his head. “I want to feel your cock inside me. I want to know what it feels like for you.”
It wasn’t inspired dialogue, but she responded to it nonetheless. “Yes, Xander, right now. Please now.”
“Yes, baby, now. You can do it.”
She shifted her weight onto one arm and leaned to the side so she could see what she was doing, grasping her cock with her free hand to guide it to him. He gasped as it stroked along his tender slit, the head seeming to touch everywhere at once. Then suddenly she sank a bit. “There,” he gasped. “Right there.”
They both cried out as she surged into him, halfway down in a single stroke. “Oh my god, Anya!” He felt so full, so completely connected to her.
She held him tight, face buried in his hair. “Xander, oh sweet oh this is so good.” He nodded and rocked his hips against her. When she moaned her pleasure, he continued, encouraging her. “You can move now, baby. You can move all you want.”
She nodded, pulling back as he did to draw her cock almost out of him before forcing it back in, more slowly but deeper than the first time.
“Oh yeah again,” he pleaded hoarsely. “Fuck me, Anya. I want you to fuck me so hard.” He instinctively wrapped his legs up around her hips.
She growled and gripped one of his hips as she began to find her rhythm. “I’ll fuck you, Xander Harris. I’ll fuck you till you can’t walk.” She dipped and pulled in long, wet strokes, the sweat running off them making their bodies slip over each other in delicious suctioning sounds.
And they forgot. They forgot who was male and who was female, that one of them was supposed to be one thing and the other something else. They simply were male and female together. Just as it was meant to be.
She came first, with a shuddering cry and a slam of her hips that drove her even deeper into him, and then again to tear him apart in gasping screams of release. He arched up against her, clutching at her back and arms until she collapsed on top of him, totally spent.
They lay together like that for long moments before she finally rolled them over onto their sides, slipping out of him. She looked down in distaste and uncertainty at the heavy condom slipping off her now soft cock. He breathed a laugh and took pity on her. “Just grab it by the collar and pull back out of it. It can go in the trash can.” He watched as she did as he directed, then grabbed the hand towel under the bed to clean herself off as she must have seen him done any number of times. As she discarded the towel, he asked, “Why do you have condoms, anyway?”
She shrugged. “They make cleaning my sex toys easier.”
“Sex toys? Plural?”
“Well, a girl likes variety. And you don’t want me to sleep with other men, so . . .”
He shook his head and curled up in her arms, falling into their usual embrace automatically.
“Xander?” she asked tentatively.
“Mmm hmm?” A comfortable lethargy was stealing over him, a combination of exertion and comfort sapping his energy.
“Was I . . . did you like that?”
That roused him. He lifted his head. “Why, didn’t you?”
“No, I did! Very much! Maybe . . . too much.”
He hugged her, kissed her firm lips gently. “There’s no shame in enjoying it. We’re just pretty incredible together, no matter what bodies we’re in. I admit to being a little weirded out. But it’s not that I like giving head, it’s that I like giving you head. I love you, and I want to make you feel good.”
“Even if it means being submissive to me?”
“Anya.” He looked her in the eye. “When have you ever not been the dominant one in our relationship?”
“So you liked it?”
“Yeah, I did. It felt . . . amazing.”
She smiled, a touch of the predator in the curl of her lips as she pushed him back onto his back. He could feel her hardening against his thigh as she partly covered his body with hers. “Just wait until you see how it feels when you’re on top!”
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