"Well, crap," Jade says, and she whaps Dave with her sprite tail when he sporfles at how mild it came out.
He's sitting on the floor with both hands pressed to his face and she can see his eyes; only not, because they're squeezed shut in either shock or hilarity, or maybe both? Jade herself is still too baffled to really be in shock yet, and...
She vaguely remembers what it was like to be a sprite, in a corner of her mind she doesn't like to think about. It's strange in a very existential way that's pretty much impossible to describe.
What's even stranger is suddenly being naked from the waist down. Whoops. She puts her hands down before her crotch, awkwardly (she was never shy on her island, whenever she went for a swim,) and then realizes there's nothing really to hide there, no fork of her legs, no girl parts.
She doesn't like it, it's not obvious visually but viscerally it feels strange, like she's been filled with cement and obstructed like an obsolete door. Okay, maybe not cement, she doesn't feel any heavier. Maybe silicone. Something like that. She doesn't have guts inside, just rubber and code.
"Toes," Dave mutters to himself, and bursts into mildly hysterical giggles.
"Wait until you notice your dick," Jade goes with a grin, because she doesn't want to think about how weird and off she feels. In a minute or a hour they will get around to fixing this, they both know it, there is no way Dave would allow otherwise. (Besides the game needs an active Witch of Space, and -- well, she can't access her powers the same as a sprite but she thinks that at least would not have switched.) She can let Dave be a little happy for a while.
Dave stares up at her, mouth hanging open a bit, and she waggles her eyebrows. She can feel her face heating up. When she leans in on her sprite tail and looks into his black (black!!) shades she sees a glorious gold blush on her orange face.
"Oh my god I have a pecker again. Berightback I need to, uh, bathroom break."
Jade bursts into giggles. "Aw!" she goes, pretend-disappointed (she is actually honestly disappointed, in a very naughty part of her brain. They have not gone that far, okay.
Mostly because he can't.)
He pauses in the middle of climbing back to his feet, clumsy like a foal on his legs, and wobbles; she catches him with her sprite tail somehow, coils it around his waist. She gets to float either as a sprite or as god tier, she's fine.
"Sorry," they say at the same time.
Dave's face has gone ruddy and he stammers when he tries to speak (like his apology isn't about tripping at all) and she tightens her tail without thought and he -- he. Well. Um.
"Oh Jesus. You'd. You'd better stop or I'll come in my pants, I will, I totally will, why did you have to remind me I swear it went from zero to final countdown in, well, without the countdown, I can't." He looks up at her, helpless and flushed and -- "Jade," he says -- he begs -- and then her hands are cradling his face and she's kissing him, her wings are around his body, her tail has gone tight around his waist.
She can't feel true desire, only an odd, silvery-cold echo, the programmed reminders of what she should have felt, but Rose always said the most potent sexual organ is the mind and Dave's shaky need spears her right through.
They kiss and kiss and kiss, and that at least they have experience with, only Dave is now the one with the thick dog fangs to navigate and she's the one who chokes a bit when a croon comes out of her throat and into his mouth. He's hard against her, she can feel him. (
It's like he's rubbing against her tibia, her shoulder blade, it leaves her body sluggish, too lazy to respond.)
"Do you want, um," she says against his mouth, "Do you want to touch yourself, I mean, that'd be okay?" Her voice goes shrill on the last words and she laughs to cover up her blush. He groans, presses his forehead to her shoulder. Her tail has wound itself around the back of his knee and around his calf; she squeezes experimentally, he groans again and rocks against her unbidden.
"Jesus, Harley, you'll kill me. I wonder if you can actually kill me right now, probably. Wow. Shit, fuck yes I want to touch myself, are you sure. I mean."
He's going to fluster himself into saying never mind, she sees that coming. Her boyfriend is such a dork. She floats up a bit and presses his face right between her boobs. (She still has those, at least.)
She feels him splutter and she laughs, hugs him tight; he moans against her ribs, hands as good as teleporting down his own body to squeeze himself through his pants. (He's wearing jeans. So weird, was this what he came into the sprite with? It would have been funny if he'd come out in her clothes.)
"Nngh -- I, uh, I'm wobbly, wow, ffffuck yes, ah, I mean. Might need to. To. Shit."
Maybe she can still feel something with this body, she thinks through a strange haze, and she slips her tail between his legs, makes it a lap for him to straddle. Floating is effortless, and her wings curve around to his back to hold him up. She lets his neck go, watches him recline tentatively in her hold, her hands trailing down his side. She doesn't know where to look, his panting mouth, his flushed throat, his heaving chest. His shaky hands, squeezing and rubbing at the lump in his pants, too clumsy with desire to even unbutton himself. She doesn't know where to look, she wants to look everywhere.
His thighs clamp down around her hips and she croons again, and he tries to chirp and it comes out a whine and oh god, she didn't notice, they're as white as his hair and they were flattened back so much and he has dog ears, they're adorable. She reaches for them, ruffles the soft fuzz of them between index and thumb and he whines, scratches at those spots at the bases and he arches into her, rocks his hips until his taint is flush with her.
She wonders how he likes it, being touched in a place he didn't have for two years, if it's anywhere close to touching his dick. She hesitates, and then she rocks back into him, pulling him into her with her wings at the same time.
He keens. He keeps and shudders and goes limp; she has to scramble to pull him up with her wings and her arms together. He topples against her chest and whimpers like a puppy, curls in around his crotch. His hands are still down there, cupped protectively over where he was squeezing and rubbing away.
"Did you just, um...?"
"I totally did just um," he mumbles against her collarbone, and mouths her neck dazedly.
She floats. She rubs his back. She tries not to giggle, because he might think it's mockery and not delight.
"Wow um," he says after a few minutes, and kisses her jaw. "Sorry I'm a cad. You could, uh, we could try reversing it and then I could try to. Er. Help you out?"
"Help me out?" she repeats, and blinks pretend-innocent, just to watch that glorious blush.
"Scratch your itch? Let you have your turn on the merry go'rgasm? Polish the pearl? Do you want me to go down on you because I totally will, like, as many times as you want and. And uh. Jade, why's your tail doing that."
Because she hadn't noticed at first what her tail was doing, but once she noticed she thought it was an excellent idea, and the sprite part of her obviously knows what it's doing.
Her tail loops back under Dave's ankles like a support for his bent legs, figure-eights that have been tightening until his feet are tied together by her coils. He is caught straddling her and it's totally suggestive and. To be honest. Hella sexy.
She also doesn't think he minds, considering it's twitching against her again.
"Hmm. Raincheck?" she asks brightly. "I like the way we are for now."
Dave groans, tries to make it sound like frustrated resignation but it's too shuddery for that.
She rocks, slowly. He clings to her shoulders.
"How about you unzip your pants this time, cowboy," she teases, and gives into the urge to preen his hair.