WC Fic: The Other Half
Title: The Other Half
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Neal/Diana; Peter, Elizabeth, Moz
Spoilers: None
Content Notice: Sexswap, crack, frank descriptions of first time sex, unrequited feelings
Word Count: ~9,800
Summary: When a sex-changing flu bug makes the rounds, Neal and Diana make a pact to satisfy their curiosities about the opposite sex. Mostly, this is porn.
A/N: While in this story Neal and Diana are temporarily changed into members of the opposite sex and decide to explore what that is like, they still identify as their male and female genders, respectively, hence the pronouns correspond. If this subject matter or pairing upsets or offends you, you should not read this story.
This fills the genderswap square on my trope bingo card. Extra special thanks to daria234 for the idea and lauracollared for the beta read. This is also get-well-soon fic for my good pal elrhiarhodan. Hope you don’t mind the crack, m’dear.
Imagine, for the purpose of this story, that Neal and Diana are besties.
----
Neal stopped by Diana’s desk and leaned his hip against it, handing her the bottle of coconut water he’d snagged for her from the bodega down the street. “What’s this meeting all about?” he asked, curious - the entire division had congregated in the bullpen; he hadn’t seen this many agents gathered together since Keller had kidnapped Peter.
She got up to stand next to him. “Don’t you live in this world? It’s probably about that clownfish flu that’s going around. I saw on CNN last night it’s nearly reached pandemic proportions.”
“Huh,” Neal said, only mildly interested. “Clownfish flu - I don’t know how they name these things.”
“No?” Blake said, overhearing their conversation as he was walking by. “It’s because clownfish are sequentially hermaphroditic. They live in hierarchical, matriarchal social groups, and if the sole female dies, then one of the males will change gender.”
Neal and Diana stared at Blake, open-mouthed. “Gee, thanks Captain Exposition,” Diana said dryly.
“Well, what else are they going to call a flu that temporarily turns you into the opposite sex overnight?” Blake huffed and stomped away.
“I dunno, but if it were me, it would’ve been a lot cleverer,” Neal pointed out.
“Like what? Sex Swap Syndrome?”
Neal snickered. “Neuter Pneumonia?”
“Dichogamous Disease?”
“Good one. Someone’s been reading her American Journal of Theoretical Biology.”
“Cover to cover each quarter.”
“Settle down, people!” Hughes had appeared at the railing outside his office, and the chatter around them began to dissipate; Peter stood right beside him.
“He does not make a good woman,” Diana said under her breath and Neal nodded. Hughes as a woman was nearly as tall, just as imposing in bearing, and just as severe in looks; he was wearing one of his usual men’s suits, and it hung off him like a burlap bag. Neal had to quell the urge to help him accessorize by reminding himself Hughes was likely to be armed.
“Christ, he looks just like Miss Jane Hathaway, the poor bastard.”
“You got that right.”
Hughes carried on, his voice high and throaty, “Now, given the current state of affairs, the President has signed an executive order allowing local governments to call federal agents into service if necessary to maintain the peace. As a result, we’ve all been designated first responders and will be able to access some of the limited quantities of vaccine that are available. Doctors and nurses have been set up in the offices and conference rooms up here. This isn’t mandatory, but I encourage you to take advantage.” With that, Hughes retreated to his office, Peter in tow, undoubtedly to discuss strategies and duties should they all be called into service by the city’s government.
Neal and Diana watched them go as they drifted to the rear of a line of agents and office workers that had quickly formed. “I guess Peter’s not worried about catching it from Hughes, huh?” Diana said.
“He told me he had it the last time there was an outbreak - back in ’87?”
“Darn, I was kinda hoping to see what the boss’d look like as a woman.”
“Me too. I’ll bet he’d be pretty hot.”
“Yeah,” Diana said, licking her lips.
“With a really nice rack,” Neal offered, and she smiled up at him.
“Get off my brain, Caffrey.”
“Not sure I’d be able to leave my house if it happened to me,” Neal admitted, “I’d have to try out the new equipment, you know?”
She eyed him as he ran his hands over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Stop that, you look like a perv. Still, I have always wondered - how do you guys walk around with all of that,” she gestured vaguely at his crotch, “going on? Doesn’t it get in the way?”
“In the way of what?”
“Walking? Sitting?”
“No.” She was still checking out his crotch with a sickly fascinated look on her face. “No! Come on, what do you think, it’s just flapping around?”
I dunno, it just seems so… superfluous.”
“It is NOT superfluous. It is… vital to our identities and well-being. Or something, I’m no developmental psychologist. Anyway, what about you guys…”
“What about ‘us guys’?” Diana said, suddenly bristling.
Neal ignored it, instead gesturing at her chest. “How of you keep your… center of gravity or whatever?”
She grinned, stepping forward in line. “We manage fine, thanks.”
“I bet you do,” he said playfully, and she smacked his arm. “Still, I kinda almost want this thing, just for the hell of it. It’s temporary, right?”
“For most people, yeah.”
“What, come on, don’t tell me you’re not even a little intrigued by the idea.” She crossed her arms, but her face colored. “See - you are.” She turned away. “Come on, admit it!” he challenged, playfully pulling her back around.
“Fine. Yes, it’d be interesting, empirically, to gain an understanding of the experience of the opposite sex.”
“Ah ha!”
“Ah ha? What ah ha? You don’t win anything for getting me to admit it.”
“Yes, I do. I win… something. I’m not sure what, but when I figure it out I’ll let you know.”
“You’re insane.”
They stood in companionable silence for several minutes as the line continued to progress- they were nearly to the stairs now.
“You know,” Diana began thoughtfully. “Now that I’m thinking about it - I would like to know what it’s like for a man to have sex.”
“What?!”
“Don’t tell me you don’t,” she challenged.
“I know what it’s like for a man to have sex,” he deadpanned and she smacked him on the arm again. “Ow! OK, fine. Have I thought about it? Truthfully, no.” He paused a beat. “But now it will be all I am going to think about for the rest of the day. Thank you.”
There followed another silence; they were now at the top of the stairs, Diana on the landing and Neal on the step below her. She turned, not looking at him and opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it. Then opened it again, then closed it again.
“Spit it out,” Neal said.
“It’s crazy.”
“I’ll bet it’s not.”
“OK. Fine. If we - I mean, if I were to get this clownfish thing, and you did too… would you want to…”
“What, with you?” Neal was more than a little shocked.
“Of course with me!” She hit him on the arm again.
“If I bruise, I’m telling Peter,” he scolded her. “Well, it’s been a while since I was with a guy, but I should tell you I prefer to top.”
She rolled her eyes, but then looked around them to be sure no one was listening in. “I meant if you get it too. If we both change sexes, would you, you know, have sex with me?”
He looked at her levelly. “There’s a catch, isn’t there? What is it?”
“No catch, I swear. Look, neither one of us is dating right now, so why not?”
Yes, why not? Neal thought, frowning. Did they have anything to lose? They were friends, weren’t they? He certainly found Diana attractive - he’d had sex with people for less compelling reasons, and this seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity - if they both wound up with the flu, that is.
“Sure. Why not?” he said at last.
She actually smiled, pleased at the thought.
----
“Hi,” Neal said with a smile to the 50-ish woman he met when it was finally his turn to get his vaccine.
“Good morning. I’m Ralph.”
“Oh. So… wow. I guess I’m sorry? Is it contagious?”
Ralph shrugged a petite shoulder - he was actually attractive, in a Cher-in-Moonstruck kind of way. “Not once it manifests, which is what’s so unpredictable. It’s contagious when you’ve got the initial symptoms - the typical stuff, chills, headache, fever, dizziness. You wake up twelve hours later feeling great and BAM, your stick shift’s now an automatic.”
“Hmm,” Neal replied to fill the silence - what more was there to say? “So how long…?”
“Does it last? Three or four days - sometimes more, sometimes less. For some it’s permanent, which is the kicker, but that’s a very low percentage.”
“Well, I guess I’m glad there’s a vaccine,” Neal said, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Meh, it’s not so bad. The wife wasn’t too thrilled, but what are ya gonna do?”
“Exactly.” Neal winced as Ralph stuck the needle in his upper arm, then rubbed at the pinprick with an alcohol swab. “So that’s it - I’m safe?”
“Probably. If you’ve already been exposed, it’ll do no good. It won’t hurt you any, but it’s all a crap shoot.”
Neal met Diana in the hall outside the conference room - she was coming out of Peter’s office, which had also been commandeered for the inoculations. She was pulling on her suit jacket. “Well, that’s it then,” she said.
“Yep - guess we’ll see if we escaped it or not soon enough.”
----
It was a Friday, and so the team headed out for their weekly beer and darts outing, and by the time Neal got home, it was late and he was exhausted. He woke an hour later with a pounding migraine, shivering so hard he thought his teeth might vibrate out of his head, but it wasn’t until he got up to go to the bathroom and nearly passed out that he put two and two together and got breasts.
But not yet, though, he was relieved to see when he’d finally made it to the bathroom. He relieved himself, washed his hands and face and staggered back to bed, where he promptly passed out into a dreamless sleep.
He woke late the next day and sat up in his bed. His head was still fuzzy, so he was actually surprised when he looked down and discovered that he had, in fact, sprouted a pair of breasts overnight. He stared at them for a full half minute before it registered, and he raised his hands tentatively to cup them.
They were spectacular - a full B-cup, he judged, high-set and perky, with small, pale pink nipples the color of carnations. They were soft and yielding, and he rolled a nipple between his fingers experimentally and watched, fascinated as the areola contracted and bunched up around the nipple itself, which, now hardened to a pert nubbin, stood out proudly.
“Wow,” he said, trying it with the other one.
A sudden thought occurred to him and he jumped out of the bed and rushed over to the two-way mirror that stood over his fireplace to get a look at himself. He was shorter than he was used to - by at least six inches. His eyes were exactly the same, but rimmed with thicker and longer lashes. He thought his eyebrows could do with a bit of plucking, but made no plans for that. His mouth was not as wide, but his lips were fuller, the bottom one slightly pouty. And his hair fell in loose ringlets past his shoulders, the ends now brushing against his nipples with the barest of whispering touches, and he closed his eyes and just felt it.
Man, Diana was going to love this.
He was about to go and grab his phone to call her when his door opened and Moz walked in, looking down at his phone.
“Hey, why haven’t you answered my texts today, mon frère? Don’t tell me the Suit’s got you working Saturdays too… Holy Mary Mother of God what the hell happened to you?!” he shrieked when he finally got a look at Neal, and then he hastily averted his eyes.
“I got the clownfish flu,” Neal said brightly. “Isn’t it cool?”
“No, it’s not cool!” Moz protested, turning towards Neal and then away again so fast he might have gotten whiplash. “I thought you said you got the vaccine?”
“I guess it didn’t take.”
“That is the understatement of the year.”
“Right?” Neal couldn’t contain his giddy excitement. “I hardly know what to do with myself. I feel like going shopping - like I’m my own personal Barbie or something. I’ve gotta call Diana - she’s gonna love it!” He started to cross the room again when Moz held up a hand.
“Jesus, can you put a shirt on or something?”
“Oh. Oh yeah.” He ran off to his closet where he found a little t-shirt that Sara used to sleep in and came back out again to find Moz pouring himself a large glass of red wine.
“Moz, it’s not even noon,” he admonished, putting the kettle on for some tea for himself. When he went to grab a mug from the cupboard, he realized he was too short to reach the top shelf where they were kept. He looked over at Moz, who was now taller than him. “Little help?”
Moz reached down a mug and handed it to him, and Neal noticed his face was all red. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just - you’re so hot,” Moz muttered, and took a gulp of wine.
After several awkward moments of non-started conversation, Moz fled the scene, and Neal was left to his own devices. He thought he might want to go out and do girl stuff - even if he wasn’t sure what that entailed, though the thought of a pedicure appealed - but realized he couldn’t go anywhere given the current state of his wardrobe. He wondered if Cindy had left some clothes in her old room, and so wandered downstairs to find June, who he found in the kitchen getting an earful from Moz
“Meep!” Moz said as soon as he saw Neal and left out the back door.
“I don’t know what’s got into him,” Neal marveled, and June regarded him with a raised eyebrow.
“Don’t you?” she asked archly.
All he could do was smile sheepishly.
June hooked him up with some of Cindy’s old things, and he showered and changed into a sleeveless A-line shift dress thingy that made him feel like Audrey Hepburn, and finally picked up his phone to call Diana.
“Hello?”
“Di, guess what?”
“Don’t bother me, Caffrey, I feel like death warmed over.”
“You do?”
“Don’t sound so excited about it.”
“Maybe you’ve got the clownfish flu. Do you have a migraine?”
“Yes.”
“Dizzy? Chills?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“I was the same way last night. Oh boy, it really sucked.”
“Wait a minute - you were sick last night? Does that mean…”
“I am, for now, a member of the fairer sex.”
“How’s it feel?”
“About the same, only shorter. But listen, I’ll leave you alone to get better - you’ll want to sleep it off, believe me. Can I bring you anything? Soup?”
“A snow shovel to scrape me off the bathroom floor? Otherwise, nothing, thanks. I guess I’ll stay in bed and call you later? Bye, Neal.”
----
DING-DONG
“I’ll get it, hon!”
Neal smirked as he heard Peter’s footsteps come to the door. “Can I help you?” he said politely, looking at Neal with what could be called polite interest.
“Peter, it’s me.”
“Me? Me who?”
“Neal.”
“Neal? What the hell happened?”
“I would think it’s pretty obvious.”
Peter scrubbed at his face and then peered at Neal. “So much for the vaccine, huh? Come on in.”
“Peter, who’s at the door?” Elizabeth asked as she came through from the back deck; she stopped short when she saw Neal.
“Hi Elizabeth,” Neal said, raising a hand in greeting.
“It’s Neal,” Peter explained to her confused expression.
“Oh Neal - Neal! Oh, sweetie, did you get that flu?” She rushed forward and took his hand in hers.
“Yeah.”
“Come and have some tea. You poor thing - you must be so upset.”
“Well…” Neal wasn’t beneath milking his “condition” for all it was worth, but he couldn’t say he was all that upset really; the novelty was entirely too diverting for the momtent. “The anklet is a bit big now.” He bent forward and pushed his left leg out, turning it; if he did say so, he liked the smoothness of his shapely legs without hair on them, even if shaving that morning had led to a few nicks around his kneecaps.
“Poor thing,” Elizabeth said and pulled Neal into a hug. With the high wedges Elizabeth was wearing, they were roughly the same height now, and Neal was more than a little distracted by the sensation of her larger breasts pressing against his. So, apparently, was Peter, who cleared his throat twice before they parted. “Honey, the anklet is too big - fix it!” Elizabeth ordered.
They both looked up at him, twin sets of large blue eyes taking him in, and it was all Neal could do not to smirk as Peter’s face turned beet red. Peter fumbled for the keys he had in his pocket and knelt down. Neal kicked off the ballet flats June had lent him and laid his foot in Peter’s lap, wriggling his toes worming them between his thighs. “Ooo, warm,” he cooed.
Peter jumped back as if scalded, standing and dropping his keys. “I’m just gonna…” he gestured over his shoulder with a thumb and ran for the stairs. Neal heard the shower come on a minute later.
Elizabeth laughed lightly and bent over to retrieve her husband’s keys. “Now he knows how I felt the first time you showed up on our doorstep!”
Neal felt his cheeks color at that, but then Elizabeth was taking his hand again and leading him to a chair; she handed him the keys. “How are you coping? And you don’t have to pretend with me, Neal.”
Neal bent forward and adjusted the tracker for his slimmer ankle, then sat up and began to mindlessly twirl the curl that had sprung out of the clip at the back of his neck and sighed. “It’s OK, really. Just a little odd being this, I dunno, small?”
“I’ll tell you, I used to have this irrational fear that someone would pick me up and carry me off when I was younger,” El confessed.
Neal's eyes widened in sympathy; he couldn’t imagine dealing with that kind of vulnerability 24/7. “And the shoes - couldn’t get the hang of heels this morning, that’s for sure.”
“None of us really do, honey.”
“And the peeing thing. Kinda weird the first time.”
“The sitting down?”
“No, the logistics.”
“Well, it’ll be temporary.”
“But there are perks - I like the clothes much more than I expected to. And guys have been tripping over themselves to open doors for me. One man even gave me his cab on the way over here.”
“See? Silver linings. So what are you going to do with yourself?”
“I was thinking pedicure, maybe a massage. Pamper myself.”
“That’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll join you.”
“Terrific! You can give me more tips, like make-up. I don’t think I would know what to do.”
“Neal, honey, you’re doing fine without it.” She made a phone call to the day spa she liked to use and made them appointments. “What do you say we head over there now, get some lunch first?”
“Sounds terrific.”
Elizabeth took his hand and they walked together towards the front door as Peter was coming down the stairs. “I’m taking Neal to the spa, Peter - for a bit of a girl’s outing.”
“Oh?”
“Yep,” Neal answered, “Maybe get a massage together, take a sauna - just us girls in nothing but towels.”
Peter swallowed and attempted a smile. Neal smiled back, what he hoped was the Full Caffrey. Peter swallowed again and then turned on his heel and ran for the bathroom again.
“That was mean,” Elizabeth said.
“I’m sorry.”
“But if you really want to get him, I suggest biting your bottom lip and sticking your tits out next time - drives him wild.”
“Good to know.”
----
Neal and Elizabeth spent the afternoon together, chatting aimlessly about the logistics of being a woman; Neal fervently hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with menstruation. It was nearly 7:00 when he got home, and June met him at the door. “You have a visitor, dear.”
Neal followed her through to the parlor where a tall, young, African American man stood near the fireplace, fingering the corner of an ornamental box on the mantel. He turned and looked at them, seeming to be self-conscious. He was gorgeous, with broad shoulders and a slim waist, large, dark brown eyes and light cocoa skin, a square jaw and high cheekbones. “Hey, Neal,” he said hesitantly, and his voice held a scratchiness and inflection that was familiar, despite the deepness of the voice.
“Diana?”
“In the flesh,” he - she - said.
“You’re prettier than me!”
That broke the ice, and Diana couldn’t resist a laugh. “Don’t think so,” she said, looking Neal up and down appreciatively. “It’s a good thing I’m a lesbian, because… DAYUM.”
Neal could feel his cheeks color slightly at the compliment and he smiled.
June took her leave of them, muttering something about being in the Twilight Zone, and Neal invited Diana to take a seat on the couch. “Where’d you get the clothes?” She was wearing a pair of jeans and a light gauge sweater that hugged the lines of her new body in all the right ways.
“My neighbor - I look after his cat from time to time, so he owed me one.”
“So?”
“What?”
“How do you like it?”
A thoughtful expression crossed her face and her mouth quirked to the side. Neal noticed for the first time she had a close-trimmed goatee and licked his lips unconsciously.
“I keep banging my head on things,” she said. “But people look me in my eyes when I meet them for once, so that’s nice. And standing and peeing? I could get used to that. How ‘bout you?”
“I like how soft I am. It’s nice. Oh, and my tits are spectacular. Here.” He stepped closer, grabbed her hand, and applied it to his chest… where she let it rest without making any other movement.
“Neal, did you just cop a feel on yourself using my hand?”
“Awesome, right?”
She pulled her hand away. “They are that. Mazel tov.”
“So.” He smiled.
“So.” She looked away, and from the side, her much stronger jawline looked to Neal like it could cut bread. He swallowed.
“You wanna get some dinner maybe? I’ve got some wine upstairs, or -“
“We’re really gonna do this?”
“I won’t pressure you, Di. I mean, I’m pretty sure I could talk Peter into a threeway with Elizabeth, no problem.”
“I do - want this. Sorry. It’s just so strange. I mean, we’re friends.”
“That’s what the wine’s for.”
----
They ordered Chinese and drank the better part of a bottle of Pinot Mozzie hadn’t yet gotten his mitts on, then sat on the couch opening their fortune cookies.
“You are about to achieve a lifelong goal,” Diana read hers.
“…in bed,” Neal appended and took a sip of his wine.
“What?”
“Isn't that what you’re supposed to say with fortune cookies? Add ‘in bed’ to the end. That one rocks, by the way.” He reached for his. “A truly rich life contains love and art in abundance.” He stared at the slip of paper in his hand.
“Something wrong?” Diana asked.
“No, just… thinking that maybe this fortune has already come true for me.”
“You think so?”
“Well, I’ve seen and created some masterful works of art in my life.”
“Allegedly.”
He smiled. “Of course. And as far as people who love me,” he looked up at Diana through his eyelashes, “I’ve got that in spades.” He leaned forward and caught Diana’s lips in a chaste kiss, resting one small hand on one hard pec, and then pulled away.
“Is that how you get in all the girlies’ pants, Caffrey?” Diana asked, her voice higher that it had been all night. She cleared her throat.
“Is it working?”
“Yes.” She pounced on him, lips strong and insistent against Neal's, her tongue pushing its way into his mouth. Her mouth was redolent with ginger and garlic and wine, and Neal didn’t think he’d have enough of it.
“Wow, boy-you is a great kisser,” Neal breathed when they came up for air.
“Boy-me nothing, that’s how I always kiss.”
Neal leaned back against the couch cushions, inviting her to follow, and she did, her mouth all over his face and throat, trailing a line along his jaw to his earlobe. He gasped - the spot behind his ear was always his favorite erogenous zone, but now the sensation of her lips there, sucking and kissing, went straight to his groin. The area between his legs throbbed, once, in response.
“God,” he said involuntarily and snaked his arms around her back, pulling her heavier frame on top of him and lying farther back on the couch. When he did, he could feel a telltale sensation pressing against his hip. “Someone’s sportin’ wood,” he observed.
“So romantic you are,” she said sarcastically.
“You sound like Yoda. Come here.” He pulled her in for more kisses, then ran his hand down until he was palming her erection. He squeezed lightly - or what he’d have judged as lightly - and she jumped and sat up.
“What the hell was that!” she said.
“What?”
“I think it moved.”
“Hells yeah it moved. If you want me to, I’ll make it sing.” He sat forward and started kissing her again, pressing her back so that he was now on top of her, grinding his pelvis against hers. The contact elicited another throb of pleasure in his - well, he was going to have to get used to it, wasn’t he - his pussy. Diana and he gasped simultaneously.
“Neal.”
“What?”
“Make it sing?”
Neal grinned, kissed her one more time and got up off the couch, holding out a hand. “Come on - bed,” he ordered. “Sex on this couch is never as satisfying as you’d think.”
“You would know.”
He led her to the bed, losing his shoes as he went, and encouraging her to do the same. When they got to the bed, he had to get on his tiptoes to kiss her, then he put his hands on her shoulders and gently encouraged her to sit. He pulled her sweater off over her head, leaned forward to kiss her and kept going, a knee on the bed as Diana reclined onto her back. Neal got back up and trailed a finger down the center of Diana’s chest, admiring the view. She was, simply put, a perfect specimen of a man, with smooth, nearly hairless skin pulled taut over tight muscles; he couldn’t resist the urge to suck on one pert nipple.
“Holy shit, that’s almost as good as when I’m me,” Diana breathed, arching her back to get more contact.
Neal grinned at her and trailed a line of kisses down her belly, pausing at her belt and resting a small hand there.
“Holy shit,” she repeated, watching him with lust-drunk eyes.
“You said that already.” He made quick work of her belt and fly, opening the pants wide to see her gorgeous cock, now fully engorged, spring out at him like one of those practical joke snakes in a can. “Free ballin’ it, I see.”
“Well, I couldn’t wear any of my underwear,” she explained.
“I get it,” Neal commiserated. His were all too big, so he was also going commando. He pulled the pants down from the hips and off her legs and then sat back on his knees to admire the view. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he told her truthfully.
“You say that to all the boys?” she asked, trying to make a joke, but the truth of it was in his eyes and she saw he meant it. “Caffrey, I -“
“No, it’s easy to think I’m always fooling around or trying to con you- it’s my MO, isn’t it. But Diana - you take my breath away, truthfully.”
She stared at him for several long seconds, mouth hanging open in shock or surprise, he wasn’t really sure, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to find out just yet. He stood and pulled his dress off over his head, tossing it in the general direction of the foot of the bed and stood there before her, completely naked. His nipples stood fully erect, he noticed, the puckered flesh of his areolas bunching around them; he noticed they were darker now and thought how odd he’d never noticed that in his female partners before.
“Now who’s not breathing?” Diana said, sitting up. She reached out a hand and caught Neal's, pulling him closer, and smothered one of his nipples with her hot mouth. The hairs of her goatee tickled momentarily, but soon enough, his sex pulsed with another throb of desire and he gasped; yes, clearly women won the nipple sensitivity contest.
After a moment, he pulled away and got back on his knees, intending to finish what he’d started. “Some men say that oral sex is the best thing that could possibly happen to them,” he began, his voice taking on a playfully clinical tone, “others think penetration is the way to go. I like both equally.” He took hold of Diana’s penis at the root and began to stroke it slowly. “I’d like you to experience both and give me your opinion.”
She nodded, speechless, eyes intent on what he was doing. He bent forward then, and licked at the little drop of pre-come that had accumulated at the tip, his touch light, his tongue darting. She gasped, but just a little. Next, he kissed the head of it, gently, opening his lips to engulf it, feeling the warmth and girth of it in his mouth. Diana jumped. Neal pulled back, letting it loose with a popping sound, then moved downward and took one lightly-furred ball in his mouth and sucked. Diana’s hips thrust forward once, but she seemed to want to control herself, and so she lay quiet against the bed and let Neal do his thing.
He sucked and kissed her balls for a few minutes, then went back to the cock, working its base with his hand as he engulfed it in his mouth. She groaned, the sound low and yet helpless, and Neal smiled around her at the thought of what he was giving her. At last, he began to go down on her, but before he could get a steady rhythm going, she made an odd keening noise and came in his mouth like a fire hose.
Spluttering a little at the suddenness, Neal nonetheless sucked everything she had out of her, swallowing down the salty-bitter substance and holding her hips steady so she wouldn’t choke him with her thrusts.
“Holy fuck,” she said, and Neal noticed she was panting and trembling all over. He got up and draped along her side, arm across her chest as he kissed her jaw.
“You know, you could tap out, warn a guy,” he admonished playfully, not really meaning it.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to get up.
“It’s all good. Here.” He tongue kissed her. “Now you’re sharing in it.”
“Ew. Still, I suppose it’s only fair. Thank you that was - kind of amazing.”
“Better than… before?”
“Different. Intense in other ways. It felt like… like burning. Like being turned inside out. Like…”
“Exploding?”
“In all the best ways.”
He kissed her again; she responded languidly, her lips going slack. He was not shocked, though he was a little disappointed, when she let out a soft snore. “And now the post-coital nap. Now I know why women complain,” he grumped, but pulled the throw that was laid at the foot of his bed over them and rested his head on her chest, wondering what the female equivalent of blue balls was called.
----
With an indelicate snort, Diana woke and then stiffened beside Neal when she realized she was in a strange place. Neal sat beside her reading a copy of Anaïs Nin’s Delta of Venus to stay in the mood.
“Oh my God, did I fall asleep?”
“It’s the worst type of cliché,” Neal teased.
“I’m such a bad boyfriend.”
Neal ignored the twinge that caused in his chest and pressed on. “I suppose you’re getting the full experience,” he said instead.
“That was like the best nap of my life.”
“You don’t say.”
“I need to pee.”
“SO romantic,” Neal muttered, but he got a chance to admire her as she padded out of the room, with thighs like Doric columns and an ass as round as a basketball.
There went that throbbing again. He pushed the covers off of himself and thoughtfully trailed a hand down his flat belly. Rubbing his hand over the wiry hairs between his legs, he parted the lips with his fingers and settled his middle fingertip just inside.
Of course he was familiar with the female anatomy, and of course he knew how things functioned. But observing it and having it were two different things entirely. He pressed his fingers where he thought his clit ought to be, just north of his opening and prodded around experimentally. It was pleasant but not inherently arousing. He licked his fingers and tried again - the lubrication from his saliva helped, but he couldn’t replicate that soul-touching throb he’d enjoyed earlier.
That was how Diana found him on her return, thoughtfully fingering himself in his bed.
“That is so much hotter than you’ve any right to be, Caffrey,” she said, halting in the middle of the room.
“Is that how you get in all the girlies’ pants, Berrigan?” he teased, and turned over on his side to face her. He liked the effect of seeing the tops of his breasts bunched together- he thought he’d have some killer cleavage if he ever got a chance to wear a bra.
She grinned, taking the shot with good humor, then her face got serious. “Want me to show you how I stay in their pants?”
He nodded and watched in anticipation as she made her way to the bed. Settling herself at the foot of it, she kneeled over him, straddling him. Taking a knee in her right hand, she pulled it up, kissed the inside of it, then moved it to the side. She repeated the maneuver with his other leg until he was lying spread out before her, totally exposed, a hot pool of desire forming suddenly in the pit of his stomach. The intensity of her gaze on him made him squirm. “Wow,” he breathed, and then she sank down and pressed her mouth to his sex and he had other reasons to marvel.
Neal had, of course, given oral sex to men and women, and received it countless times. But never had he experienced it as dealt out by a true mistress of the art. Diana started by pressing the flat of her tongue against him, not quite on the spot he’d been playing with a minute before, but lower and a bit to the left. Next she swirled her tongue around, varying her speed and pressure until at last Neal felt a growing sensation of pressure beneath her touch.
“Oh. Oh my,” he said.
She smiled up at him and then changed her pattern, addressing the same spot on the right side. This time, this touch, made him jump as if a hot brand had touched him, as- he once again felt that welcome throb he’d experienced before.
“Yeah, th-that - do that,” he urged, and she went at it again and again. He was just getting into it, pressing his hips up to encourage her to increase the pressure, when she once again changed her tack. This time, she clamped her lips over the top of Neal's pussy, sucking hard and then soft, hard, then soft, alternating it with swipes and swirls of her tongue. Suddenly, something clenched, and Neal's knees came together in an involuntary response as he himself jumped.
“Ow,” Diana said, rubbing at an ear, but she was smiling even as Neal apologized. Then she started the whole process over again.
By the time she got to the more-sensitive part on the right side, Neal felt like something might happen at any time. But while, in his male body he could at certain points just let himself go and let his orgasm overtake him, he was finding it a frustrating thing to do as a woman. It was as if it was eluding him.
“I’m so close, so close, but I can’t,” he panted, whined, moaned at the same time.
“How ‘bout now?” Diana asked, doubling the pressure.
He felt a slight spasm. “Oh fuck! Right there!” She pressed even harder with her tongue, and Neal gasped as the spasm occurred again, this time followed by another and another. He fought the desire to clamp his knees around her head and just hold her there, but it was a very near thing.
“OhGodohGodohGod!” he cried, his voice hitting higher registers that he didn’t think he was capable of, but then, just as suddenly as the orgasm had hit him, the sensation became too much, almost painful. “Stopstopstop,” he chanted, flinching away from her. She stopped immediately, and Neal twisted onto his side with his legs clamped together as a series of aftershocks rippled through him, slowing in frequency as time passed.
“That was…” he began to say, but he couldn’t find the words. She came up behind him and kissed him, and this time he had the chance to taste himself, and if he was saying so himself, he tasted pretty… OK.
Her larger body was spooning him and he found he liked it - the enveloping warmth and sense of closeness. They lay quietly for a few minutes, and Neal just felt so relaxed.
“So?” Diana prompted at length, pulling Neal's hair away from his face and resting her own head just behind, with her lips touching the edge of his ear. “Was it different? Better?”
“Challenging. I was starting to think I wouldn’t get there, and then it was all too much. But you helped me through it - thank you.”
“Well, you know, I’m more than familiar with the equipment. Next time I’ll give you some pointers.”
“Next time?” he questioned, watching as her hand traced a line down and over his hip to rest between his legs once more. Her fingers parted the lips of his vulva, and once again pressed in all the right places, though this time much more gently. Neal felt another spasm - lighter, not as intense, but there nonetheless. “Oh,” he said, his mouth open. He closed his eyes and lay his head back against her shoulder.
Her voice was quiet, deep, in his ear. “This time, I want you to tighten up your pelvic muscles. You know what those are?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Have you had to pee and needed to hold it?” He nodded. “Do that.” He nodded again.
Diana’s hand’s motion got more insistent, more concentrated in one small area.
“Oh, right there!” Neal gasped, clenching his muscles like she told him. This time, as he came, she let her first two fingers travel farther down to his opening, pushing inside him; it was only two, albeit man-sized, but the pleasure-pain of it was exquisite, and once again Neal was clenching his thighs as he climaxed.
“That right there?” Diana’s voice rumbled softly in his ear when his breathing had calmed down. “Was your first multiple orgasm.”
“Oh my - really? So soon? That is…
Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, thank yourself. The female anatomy is a wondrous thing.”
“Amen.” He was almost disappointed when she removed her hand, grabbing it to bring to his mouth for a kiss; he stiffened when he saw there was a smear of blood on it. “Oh my God, what…?”
“Shit, sorry, Caffrey.” She sat up. “You OK?”
Neal sat up as well. “I… think so? What is that?”
“Looks like your new body really is new - I just popped your cherry.”
Neal's mind boggled. “Don’t be crude.”
“OK, fine, I just ushered you into the flowering promise that is womanhood,” she snarked, but Neal was still slightly disturbed by the sight. He did a quick mental and physical inventory - he didn’t feel any pain, not really. Should he be concerned? He looked down at himself, at his new body, and for the first time that day he felt wrong somehow.
“Hey, hey,” Diana said, noticing his reaction and leaning forward. “Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not… I mean, I don’t think…” He really had no words.
She reached out for him with her other hand and rested it lightly on his shoulder. “Tell me what you’re feeling. Right now, in this moment,” she ordered.
He answered immediately, spurred on by her directness. “Confused. Different.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why - isn’t this supposed to be an important moment or something?”
“Only if you want it to be. Do you? Neal?”
“I didn’t think so before.”
“But you do now?”
He looked up and saw her handsome face, so different, yet still Diana and realized this time with her had brought up some unexpected emotions. Sure, he’d always found her attractive, but he wasn’t in love with her. They were friends - best buds - had been for months. That was all there was to it. Right?
“I need a bath,” he said abruptly, then got up and left the room.
When he returned, wearing an old t-shirt that hung on him like a mini-dress, dark hair wet from the bath and hanging around his shoulders in springy curls, he found Diana sitting cross-legged on his bed in a pair of his sleep pants that looked too small for her, checking emails on her phone. “Hey,” she said putting the phone down, eyes large and concerned. “You OK?”
“Yes.” He was. Physically. There had been no more pain and the blood before had been nearly all there was.
“You sure?”
He took in a slow breath and held it, went to the bed and stood beside it, shivering suddenly. “Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He didn’t believe himself either. All of this had brought up feelings he didn’t have before, didn’t know he had - what, was he now in tune with his “feminine side”? What a load of horseshit. It was probably hormones. That had to be it. Right?
He closed his eyes and mentally shook himself out, took a mental lap, a timeout. He felt her hand envelop his and opened his eyes. “I’m good, Diana.” She drew him forward, until his knees hit the mattress.
“I don’t want to think I’ve hurt you. You’re my friend and I care about you, Neal. Maybe this was a mistake.”
He blinked, put all the emotion away and smiled. “It wasn’t, I swear.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his right leg tucked beneath him and swung his hair to the side; it was clinging annoyingly around his neck.
“This is very pretty,” Diana said, catching a curl between two fingers.
“Thanks.”
“So are you, Neal.” Her eyes were large, soulful, and he had no idea what she was feeling.
“Should we get some sleep?” he said, crawling into the bed. Diana moved backwards to accommodate him. “I mean, would you like to stay?”
“Yes,” she said after a pause. “If you want me to.”
“I want you to.”
----
Neal slept like a rock and when he woke, it was to find Diana’s arm slung across his hip and a familiar hardness pressing against his ass. She stirred beside him and then stiffened up, pulling away with a mumbled, “Sorry.”
He turned over to face her. “Don’t be - morning wood is normal, means everything’s working properly.”
“How do you guys even deal?”
He smiled. “It’ll go away. You want some breakfast? There’re always croissants on Sundays.” One of the perks of living with an elderly widow was the option of breakfasts not spent alone. “I can run downstairs.”
“Sure. I’m gonna take a shower if that’s OK.”
“Go for it.” He dropped a hand down to her still-raging hard-on. “And have fun with this,” he added with a smirk.
Neal had retrieved fresh croissants, still warm from the oven, as well as some orange juice and coffee from June’s kitchen when Diana finally emerged from the bathroom, once again wearing Neal's sleep pants. “Everything come out OK?”
She gave him a look, but then her eyes widened. “I have to say the orgasms are more intense as a man.”
“Just not as repeatable,” Neal added. “I won’t bore you with details about refractory periods. Have some coffee.”
They spent an hour enjoying breakfast and comparing notes on their new physiologies, and Neal all but forgot the emotional upset of the night before.
“You doing anything today? Feel like hanging out?” Diana asked.
“There is this new Sargent exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum I’ve been meaning to check out.”
“Which is well outside your radius. Am I nothing to you but a convenient escort?” she joked.
“Don’t be silly,” he said, his voice low and throaty, “you’re also a great lay.”
She laughed. “Well, thank you, I think.”
“Don’t mention it.” He rose and went to get changed, coming out wearing another of Cindy’s dresses and carrying a pullover he thought would be large enough for Diana to borrow, and some underwear for her.
“Thanks, I’ll try not to stretch the underwear out,” she said, comically going for a crotch-grab.
“Never, ever do that again,” Neal deadpanned and walked over to the mirror to try to figure out what to do about his hair. It was a little too wild for his liking and he missed his usual, orderly style. He lifted it off his neck, pushed it around a little, not quite certain.
“Leave it down,” Diana called from the doorway. “It’s pretty.”
Neal eyed himself in the mirror doubtfully, but did as she said.
They spent the day at the museum and then stopped by a farmer’s market when Neal offered to make them dinner later. Diana was buying some flowers for the table when the elderly Chinese woman who ran the stand handed her a salmon pink Gerbera daisy, and gestured at Neal. “For your girlfriend, for her hair,” the woman urged, pressing the thing into her hand. “The stem’s broken, I can’t use it.”
“Oh, we’re not together,” Diana said.
“Just friends,” Neal said, but took the flower and slid the stem over his right ear. “How’s that look?”
“Gorgeous,” Diana said, her face suddenly serious.
“Not together,” the Chinese woman said with a smile, handing Diana her change.
----
“So,” Neal said, leaning a hip against his kitchen counter, watching Diana wash the dishes - as she’d insisted she do since Neal had cooked.
“So,” she said, eyeing him.
“We still haven’t fucked.” Just to make sure his point hit home, he waggled his eyebrows.
“We haven’t,” she said evenly, turning off the water and drying her hands on a kitchen towel.
“Did you still want to?”
“Did you?”
“You going to keep repeating nearly everything I say?” She smiled, but there was uncertainty in her eyes, and a kind of solicitousness that Neal kind of hated seeing there. They’d spent the entire day together, and had regained a measure of the friendliness and banter they’d always had, and he was hoping she’d have forgotten his emotional outburst from the night before. “I’m OK, you know, you won’t break me,” he assured her.
“Won’t I?” she asked, her eyebrows knit together with concern and, deciding he didn’t want to face this conversation and what it meant, he just went up on his toes, slung his arms around her neck and kissed her.
Diana’s arms slipped around his back, and feeling them was so welcome, he melted against her. She widened her stance, deepening the kiss and dropping her right hand to the small of his back, over his ass and to the back of his thigh. Pulling up, she seated his leg around her waist, pressing her crotch against the warmth between Neal's thighs. Neal gasped at her sudden, answering heat, grinding against her as they plundered each other’s mouths. Finally, Diana reached down with her other arm and lifted him up completely. Gasping, Neal broke the kiss and looked down on her; her pupils were so large the irises of her brown eyes were nearly obliterated. Neal locked his legs around Diana’s waist, tightened his hold around her neck and pulled her face against his breasts.
Diana moaned against Neal's right breast, mouthing at his nipple through the thin material of the dress he wore. “Oh God!” Neal breathed, throwing his head back. As Diana began to move them slowly toward the bed, Neal leaned his head forward and began to kiss her again. When they got to the edge of the bed, Diana laid Neal down on it gently, then pulled back and sat beside him.
“So, so gorgeous,” she breathed, trailing a finger lightly down Neal's chest to rest at the buttons at the top of the dress’s bodice.
Neal could feel his heart pounding, from excitement and just a small frisson of fear. He watched as she opened the buttons on the dress, stopping after the fourth one to pull it aside, exposing one pert breast. Once again, she bent her head down and began to suckle, teasing the nipple to a hard nib in seconds, and Neal felt a dull, aching throb awaken in his pussy. His breath hitched and Diana looked up at him. He smiled at her, but she was deadly serious at her work, and went back to it until Neal was squirming in discomfort at the over-stimulation. He pulled back with a hiss, and Diana sat up, soothing the puckered flesh with cool fingertips. Then she pushed the other side of his bodice away and performed the same ritual on his other breast.
The pleasure of this simple act was nearly overwhelming, and Neal fought the urge to touch himself or clench his thighs together. When his breathing began to hitch, Diana sat up yet again and proceeded to unbutton the rest of the dress, laying it open and then taking him in her arms again and kissing him long and slow on the lips. By this time, her erection was a hard, insistent thing against Neal's thigh, and he reached a hand down to palm it, but Diana pulled away and looked down on him with hooded eyes.
“Uh-uh, don’t touch. I want it to last.”
“OK.”
“I’m going to fuck you now.”
“OK.”
She gave him one last kiss and then rose, stripping off her clothes without delay, and then getting down on her knees, pulling his dress off and then straddling him. “How?” she muttered, and Neal obligingly lifted one knee to his chest, exposing his throbbing sex to her; he felt a rush of air against it, against the moisture there. Diana ran a finger lightly over his opening and when she raised it, it was glistening with Neal's juices. She sucked on her finger, went back for more and held it to Neal's lips. He licked her finger, tasting himself, and moaned at the utter sensuality of it all. She followed it up with another kiss, resting her elbow beside him and nudging his raised leg until his foot was resting on her lower back.
Neal could feel the heat from her cock as it lightly brushed against him. She ended their kiss and reached her other hand down between them, guiding the tip of her cock to his entrance.
“Easy,” Neal said as the head pushed lightly against him. Diana nodded, concentrating on her progress. Neal held his breath, trying to relax everything; the sensation of Diana’s cock pushing in and stretching him was, at first, an unpleasant burn and he closed his eyes tight.
“That all right?” she asked, pausing.
“Pull back?”
Nodding, Diana did so, and Neal breathed for a few seconds more. “OK.” Once again, Diana pushed herself inside him, much slower this time. Neal could feel his body stretching to accommodate, the burning no less intense than before, but he bore it better. After more time than he thought it’d take, Diana was at last fully seated inside him.
“How’s that?” she asked, looking up with concern in her eyes.
Neal was nearly overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness; he clenched his pussy involuntarily and Diana groaned, “Oh my God!”
“Sorry!”
“Don’t apologize. Christ, you’re so tight. I don’t know if I’ll last here, Neal.”
“You have to.”
“What do you usually do?”
“I calculate pi in my head.”
“Who does that?”
“Untested math geniuses who want to come at the same time as their partners.”
“Untested?”
“Aw, you think I’m a genius?”
“I think you’re a lot of things. I’m going to move a little now, is that all right?”
Neal nodded. Diana pulled out slightly - not all the way - then pushed back into him.
“Huh,” Neal said.
“That good?”
“I think it could be.”
“I know it might not sound like much, but concentrate on relaxing everything below your waist,” Diana advised. Neal complied, and as Diana pulled out and pushed back in, the going became a little easier, apparently for both of them. “There we go,” she said to him with a smile. She kissed him, pushing her arms beneath him and cradling his head in her hands.
“That’s nice,” he said, a small hand coming up to touch Diana’s face; he traced the outline of her lips with his fingertips, and then strained up for another kiss. Diana began to pump in and out of him again, shallowly. Neal moaned into her mouth, not so much turned on by the act as by the closeness he felt with her. He imagined the former would come with practice. “I think I could take you going a little faster,” he told her.
Diana nodded and pumped her hips a few more times. “Oh Christ!” she moaned, biting her lip.
“That good?” Neal asked. She nodded. “Tell me, tell me what it’s like,” he encouraged.
“You’re so… I don’t… I almost can’t feel anything else but you,” she breathed, her eyes closed.
“You say the sweetest things.”
“I’m so close,” she gasped. “I think.”
“Oh.”
“You too?”
He shook his head.
“Here.” Diana slowed her movements and reached down to finger Neal's clit. He jumped, the sudden contact setting off a spasm of pleasure. She pressed harder, worrying her finger over his special spot and he moaned again, or maybe it was a whine, he wasn’t sure.
“God!”
“Closer?” He nodded. “What did I teach you?” Neal concentrated on tightening his pelvic muscles as Diana worked him; suddenly her cock stopped moving and Neal clamped down on her even harder as his orgasm began. “Fucking hell,” she yelled, removing her hand and bracing herself on the bed.
Neal could feel hot pulses inside him as Diana came, thrusting shallowly inside him. She buried her face in his neck and he held her close. When their breathing had evened out, she pushed herself back up on her elbows and looked down on him.
She pushed the sweaty hair out of his face and looked into his eyes. “I could fall in love with a girl like you,” she breathed, pulling gently out of him and sliding to the side, pulling him on top of her.
Neal nestled his head in the crook between her neck and shoulder and breathed in their mingled scent. “There are no girls like me - I’m a boy, remember?”
That’s how they fell asleep.
----
Neal woke with morning wood.
He was, at first, surprised to feel nothing but disappointment. This meant Diana would leave. He sighed.
Behind him, Diana stirred; she was lying with her hand over his hip and her face buried in the back of his neck. She was still in her man’s body. Neal knew the moment she woke and understood what had happened, because she stiffened like she’d spotted a rat or something. She sat up.
“Good morning,” Neal said as he rolled onto his back, his voice as neutral as he could make it.
“You’re back to you,” she said.
“Yeah. Good thing, huh?” He thought he sounded convincing.
“Yeah,” she replied, and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “You OK?”
“I need a shower.” He got out of the bed and made for the bathroom.
When he emerged, wrapped in a robe, he found her dressed already and standing next to the table.
“I should go,” she said, gesturing. “You’ve got to get to work and I need to get home.”
“Sure. I’ll tell Peter you’ve still got the flu.”
“Thanks. I’ll um…” she gestured for the door and then walked toward it, he following her.
“You sure you don’t want to stay? We could still, you know…” He tried for a lascivious grin, but he knew it missed the mark.
Diana was gracious enough to ignore it. “Listen, Neal, thanks for this weekend. It was really…” Her voice trailed off.
“Entertaining? Educational? Athletic?”
“Special,” she said simply and then left.
His gut felt as empty as the apartment when she’d gone.
----
“Oh my God - say that again?” Peter’s eyes were practically goggling, which piqued Neal's curiosity. He was sitting across from his partner, reviewing a cold case and waiting for Peter to come with him to lunch. “You’re shitting me. What do the doctors say?”
Doctors?
Neal's ears perked up and he listened intently to the rest of Peter’s conversation, but got nothing elucidating. Finally he hung up and Neal regarded him with raised eyebrows. “Well? What was that all about?”
“It was Ed Rogers down in DC - you know, my old partner?” Neal nodded. “He’s pregnant.”
Neal blinked slowly and then his brain went offline. “What?”
“Apparently, men who’ve had sex while they had the clownfish flu can become pregnant. And when they change back, they’re still in the family way.”
Neal blinked again.
“He’s not the only one - more cases keep coming up. The CDC is having a collective cow. There’s about to be a huge press conference. Isn't that the craziest thing you’ve ever heard, Neal? Neal?”
Neal couldn’t feel his head.
“Why so pale, buddy? It’s not as if you had unprotected sex when you were a woman, right?”
----
Thank you for your time.
This story has a sequel: The Other Shoe
Rating: NC-17
Characters/Pairings: Neal/Diana; Peter, Elizabeth, Moz
Spoilers: None
Content Notice: Sexswap, crack, frank descriptions of first time sex, unrequited feelings
Word Count: ~9,800
Summary: When a sex-changing flu bug makes the rounds, Neal and Diana make a pact to satisfy their curiosities about the opposite sex. Mostly, this is porn.
A/N: While in this story Neal and Diana are temporarily changed into members of the opposite sex and decide to explore what that is like, they still identify as their male and female genders, respectively, hence the pronouns correspond. If this subject matter or pairing upsets or offends you, you should not read this story.
This fills the genderswap square on my trope bingo card. Extra special thanks to daria234 for the idea and lauracollared for the beta read. This is also get-well-soon fic for my good pal elrhiarhodan. Hope you don’t mind the crack, m’dear.
Imagine, for the purpose of this story, that Neal and Diana are besties.
----
Neal stopped by Diana’s desk and leaned his hip against it, handing her the bottle of coconut water he’d snagged for her from the bodega down the street. “What’s this meeting all about?” he asked, curious - the entire division had congregated in the bullpen; he hadn’t seen this many agents gathered together since Keller had kidnapped Peter.
She got up to stand next to him. “Don’t you live in this world? It’s probably about that clownfish flu that’s going around. I saw on CNN last night it’s nearly reached pandemic proportions.”
“Huh,” Neal said, only mildly interested. “Clownfish flu - I don’t know how they name these things.”
“No?” Blake said, overhearing their conversation as he was walking by. “It’s because clownfish are sequentially hermaphroditic. They live in hierarchical, matriarchal social groups, and if the sole female dies, then one of the males will change gender.”
Neal and Diana stared at Blake, open-mouthed. “Gee, thanks Captain Exposition,” Diana said dryly.
“Well, what else are they going to call a flu that temporarily turns you into the opposite sex overnight?” Blake huffed and stomped away.
“I dunno, but if it were me, it would’ve been a lot cleverer,” Neal pointed out.
“Like what? Sex Swap Syndrome?”
Neal snickered. “Neuter Pneumonia?”
“Dichogamous Disease?”
“Good one. Someone’s been reading her American Journal of Theoretical Biology.”
“Cover to cover each quarter.”
“Settle down, people!” Hughes had appeared at the railing outside his office, and the chatter around them began to dissipate; Peter stood right beside him.
“He does not make a good woman,” Diana said under her breath and Neal nodded. Hughes as a woman was nearly as tall, just as imposing in bearing, and just as severe in looks; he was wearing one of his usual men’s suits, and it hung off him like a burlap bag. Neal had to quell the urge to help him accessorize by reminding himself Hughes was likely to be armed.
“Christ, he looks just like Miss Jane Hathaway, the poor bastard.”
“You got that right.”
Hughes carried on, his voice high and throaty, “Now, given the current state of affairs, the President has signed an executive order allowing local governments to call federal agents into service if necessary to maintain the peace. As a result, we’ve all been designated first responders and will be able to access some of the limited quantities of vaccine that are available. Doctors and nurses have been set up in the offices and conference rooms up here. This isn’t mandatory, but I encourage you to take advantage.” With that, Hughes retreated to his office, Peter in tow, undoubtedly to discuss strategies and duties should they all be called into service by the city’s government.
Neal and Diana watched them go as they drifted to the rear of a line of agents and office workers that had quickly formed. “I guess Peter’s not worried about catching it from Hughes, huh?” Diana said.
“He told me he had it the last time there was an outbreak - back in ’87?”
“Darn, I was kinda hoping to see what the boss’d look like as a woman.”
“Me too. I’ll bet he’d be pretty hot.”
“Yeah,” Diana said, licking her lips.
“With a really nice rack,” Neal offered, and she smiled up at him.
“Get off my brain, Caffrey.”
“Not sure I’d be able to leave my house if it happened to me,” Neal admitted, “I’d have to try out the new equipment, you know?”
She eyed him as he ran his hands over his chest and raised an eyebrow. “Stop that, you look like a perv. Still, I have always wondered - how do you guys walk around with all of that,” she gestured vaguely at his crotch, “going on? Doesn’t it get in the way?”
“In the way of what?”
“Walking? Sitting?”
“No.” She was still checking out his crotch with a sickly fascinated look on her face. “No! Come on, what do you think, it’s just flapping around?”
I dunno, it just seems so… superfluous.”
“It is NOT superfluous. It is… vital to our identities and well-being. Or something, I’m no developmental psychologist. Anyway, what about you guys…”
“What about ‘us guys’?” Diana said, suddenly bristling.
Neal ignored it, instead gesturing at her chest. “How of you keep your… center of gravity or whatever?”
She grinned, stepping forward in line. “We manage fine, thanks.”
“I bet you do,” he said playfully, and she smacked his arm. “Still, I kinda almost want this thing, just for the hell of it. It’s temporary, right?”
“For most people, yeah.”
“What, come on, don’t tell me you’re not even a little intrigued by the idea.” She crossed her arms, but her face colored. “See - you are.” She turned away. “Come on, admit it!” he challenged, playfully pulling her back around.
“Fine. Yes, it’d be interesting, empirically, to gain an understanding of the experience of the opposite sex.”
“Ah ha!”
“Ah ha? What ah ha? You don’t win anything for getting me to admit it.”
“Yes, I do. I win… something. I’m not sure what, but when I figure it out I’ll let you know.”
“You’re insane.”
They stood in companionable silence for several minutes as the line continued to progress- they were nearly to the stairs now.
“You know,” Diana began thoughtfully. “Now that I’m thinking about it - I would like to know what it’s like for a man to have sex.”
“What?!”
“Don’t tell me you don’t,” she challenged.
“I know what it’s like for a man to have sex,” he deadpanned and she smacked him on the arm again. “Ow! OK, fine. Have I thought about it? Truthfully, no.” He paused a beat. “But now it will be all I am going to think about for the rest of the day. Thank you.”
There followed another silence; they were now at the top of the stairs, Diana on the landing and Neal on the step below her. She turned, not looking at him and opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it. Then opened it again, then closed it again.
“Spit it out,” Neal said.
“It’s crazy.”
“I’ll bet it’s not.”
“OK. Fine. If we - I mean, if I were to get this clownfish thing, and you did too… would you want to…”
“What, with you?” Neal was more than a little shocked.
“Of course with me!” She hit him on the arm again.
“If I bruise, I’m telling Peter,” he scolded her. “Well, it’s been a while since I was with a guy, but I should tell you I prefer to top.”
She rolled her eyes, but then looked around them to be sure no one was listening in. “I meant if you get it too. If we both change sexes, would you, you know, have sex with me?”
He looked at her levelly. “There’s a catch, isn’t there? What is it?”
“No catch, I swear. Look, neither one of us is dating right now, so why not?”
Yes, why not? Neal thought, frowning. Did they have anything to lose? They were friends, weren’t they? He certainly found Diana attractive - he’d had sex with people for less compelling reasons, and this seemed like a once in a lifetime opportunity - if they both wound up with the flu, that is.
“Sure. Why not?” he said at last.
She actually smiled, pleased at the thought.
----
“Hi,” Neal said with a smile to the 50-ish woman he met when it was finally his turn to get his vaccine.
“Good morning. I’m Ralph.”
“Oh. So… wow. I guess I’m sorry? Is it contagious?”
Ralph shrugged a petite shoulder - he was actually attractive, in a Cher-in-Moonstruck kind of way. “Not once it manifests, which is what’s so unpredictable. It’s contagious when you’ve got the initial symptoms - the typical stuff, chills, headache, fever, dizziness. You wake up twelve hours later feeling great and BAM, your stick shift’s now an automatic.”
“Hmm,” Neal replied to fill the silence - what more was there to say? “So how long…?”
“Does it last? Three or four days - sometimes more, sometimes less. For some it’s permanent, which is the kicker, but that’s a very low percentage.”
“Well, I guess I’m glad there’s a vaccine,” Neal said, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Meh, it’s not so bad. The wife wasn’t too thrilled, but what are ya gonna do?”
“Exactly.” Neal winced as Ralph stuck the needle in his upper arm, then rubbed at the pinprick with an alcohol swab. “So that’s it - I’m safe?”
“Probably. If you’ve already been exposed, it’ll do no good. It won’t hurt you any, but it’s all a crap shoot.”
Neal met Diana in the hall outside the conference room - she was coming out of Peter’s office, which had also been commandeered for the inoculations. She was pulling on her suit jacket. “Well, that’s it then,” she said.
“Yep - guess we’ll see if we escaped it or not soon enough.”
----
It was a Friday, and so the team headed out for their weekly beer and darts outing, and by the time Neal got home, it was late and he was exhausted. He woke an hour later with a pounding migraine, shivering so hard he thought his teeth might vibrate out of his head, but it wasn’t until he got up to go to the bathroom and nearly passed out that he put two and two together and got breasts.
But not yet, though, he was relieved to see when he’d finally made it to the bathroom. He relieved himself, washed his hands and face and staggered back to bed, where he promptly passed out into a dreamless sleep.
He woke late the next day and sat up in his bed. His head was still fuzzy, so he was actually surprised when he looked down and discovered that he had, in fact, sprouted a pair of breasts overnight. He stared at them for a full half minute before it registered, and he raised his hands tentatively to cup them.
They were spectacular - a full B-cup, he judged, high-set and perky, with small, pale pink nipples the color of carnations. They were soft and yielding, and he rolled a nipple between his fingers experimentally and watched, fascinated as the areola contracted and bunched up around the nipple itself, which, now hardened to a pert nubbin, stood out proudly.
“Wow,” he said, trying it with the other one.
A sudden thought occurred to him and he jumped out of the bed and rushed over to the two-way mirror that stood over his fireplace to get a look at himself. He was shorter than he was used to - by at least six inches. His eyes were exactly the same, but rimmed with thicker and longer lashes. He thought his eyebrows could do with a bit of plucking, but made no plans for that. His mouth was not as wide, but his lips were fuller, the bottom one slightly pouty. And his hair fell in loose ringlets past his shoulders, the ends now brushing against his nipples with the barest of whispering touches, and he closed his eyes and just felt it.
Man, Diana was going to love this.
He was about to go and grab his phone to call her when his door opened and Moz walked in, looking down at his phone.
“Hey, why haven’t you answered my texts today, mon frère? Don’t tell me the Suit’s got you working Saturdays too… Holy Mary Mother of God what the hell happened to you?!” he shrieked when he finally got a look at Neal, and then he hastily averted his eyes.
“I got the clownfish flu,” Neal said brightly. “Isn’t it cool?”
“No, it’s not cool!” Moz protested, turning towards Neal and then away again so fast he might have gotten whiplash. “I thought you said you got the vaccine?”
“I guess it didn’t take.”
“That is the understatement of the year.”
“Right?” Neal couldn’t contain his giddy excitement. “I hardly know what to do with myself. I feel like going shopping - like I’m my own personal Barbie or something. I’ve gotta call Diana - she’s gonna love it!” He started to cross the room again when Moz held up a hand.
“Jesus, can you put a shirt on or something?”
“Oh. Oh yeah.” He ran off to his closet where he found a little t-shirt that Sara used to sleep in and came back out again to find Moz pouring himself a large glass of red wine.
“Moz, it’s not even noon,” he admonished, putting the kettle on for some tea for himself. When he went to grab a mug from the cupboard, he realized he was too short to reach the top shelf where they were kept. He looked over at Moz, who was now taller than him. “Little help?”
Moz reached down a mug and handed it to him, and Neal noticed his face was all red. “What? What’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, it’s just - you’re so hot,” Moz muttered, and took a gulp of wine.
After several awkward moments of non-started conversation, Moz fled the scene, and Neal was left to his own devices. He thought he might want to go out and do girl stuff - even if he wasn’t sure what that entailed, though the thought of a pedicure appealed - but realized he couldn’t go anywhere given the current state of his wardrobe. He wondered if Cindy had left some clothes in her old room, and so wandered downstairs to find June, who he found in the kitchen getting an earful from Moz
“Meep!” Moz said as soon as he saw Neal and left out the back door.
“I don’t know what’s got into him,” Neal marveled, and June regarded him with a raised eyebrow.
“Don’t you?” she asked archly.
All he could do was smile sheepishly.
June hooked him up with some of Cindy’s old things, and he showered and changed into a sleeveless A-line shift dress thingy that made him feel like Audrey Hepburn, and finally picked up his phone to call Diana.
“Hello?”
“Di, guess what?”
“Don’t bother me, Caffrey, I feel like death warmed over.”
“You do?”
“Don’t sound so excited about it.”
“Maybe you’ve got the clownfish flu. Do you have a migraine?”
“Yes.”
“Dizzy? Chills?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“I was the same way last night. Oh boy, it really sucked.”
“Wait a minute - you were sick last night? Does that mean…”
“I am, for now, a member of the fairer sex.”
“How’s it feel?”
“About the same, only shorter. But listen, I’ll leave you alone to get better - you’ll want to sleep it off, believe me. Can I bring you anything? Soup?”
“A snow shovel to scrape me off the bathroom floor? Otherwise, nothing, thanks. I guess I’ll stay in bed and call you later? Bye, Neal.”
----
DING-DONG
“I’ll get it, hon!”
Neal smirked as he heard Peter’s footsteps come to the door. “Can I help you?” he said politely, looking at Neal with what could be called polite interest.
“Peter, it’s me.”
“Me? Me who?”
“Neal.”
“Neal? What the hell happened?”
“I would think it’s pretty obvious.”
Peter scrubbed at his face and then peered at Neal. “So much for the vaccine, huh? Come on in.”
“Peter, who’s at the door?” Elizabeth asked as she came through from the back deck; she stopped short when she saw Neal.
“Hi Elizabeth,” Neal said, raising a hand in greeting.
“It’s Neal,” Peter explained to her confused expression.
“Oh Neal - Neal! Oh, sweetie, did you get that flu?” She rushed forward and took his hand in hers.
“Yeah.”
“Come and have some tea. You poor thing - you must be so upset.”
“Well…” Neal wasn’t beneath milking his “condition” for all it was worth, but he couldn’t say he was all that upset really; the novelty was entirely too diverting for the momtent. “The anklet is a bit big now.” He bent forward and pushed his left leg out, turning it; if he did say so, he liked the smoothness of his shapely legs without hair on them, even if shaving that morning had led to a few nicks around his kneecaps.
“Poor thing,” Elizabeth said and pulled Neal into a hug. With the high wedges Elizabeth was wearing, they were roughly the same height now, and Neal was more than a little distracted by the sensation of her larger breasts pressing against his. So, apparently, was Peter, who cleared his throat twice before they parted. “Honey, the anklet is too big - fix it!” Elizabeth ordered.
They both looked up at him, twin sets of large blue eyes taking him in, and it was all Neal could do not to smirk as Peter’s face turned beet red. Peter fumbled for the keys he had in his pocket and knelt down. Neal kicked off the ballet flats June had lent him and laid his foot in Peter’s lap, wriggling his toes worming them between his thighs. “Ooo, warm,” he cooed.
Peter jumped back as if scalded, standing and dropping his keys. “I’m just gonna…” he gestured over his shoulder with a thumb and ran for the stairs. Neal heard the shower come on a minute later.
Elizabeth laughed lightly and bent over to retrieve her husband’s keys. “Now he knows how I felt the first time you showed up on our doorstep!”
Neal felt his cheeks color at that, but then Elizabeth was taking his hand again and leading him to a chair; she handed him the keys. “How are you coping? And you don’t have to pretend with me, Neal.”
Neal bent forward and adjusted the tracker for his slimmer ankle, then sat up and began to mindlessly twirl the curl that had sprung out of the clip at the back of his neck and sighed. “It’s OK, really. Just a little odd being this, I dunno, small?”
“I’ll tell you, I used to have this irrational fear that someone would pick me up and carry me off when I was younger,” El confessed.
Neal's eyes widened in sympathy; he couldn’t imagine dealing with that kind of vulnerability 24/7. “And the shoes - couldn’t get the hang of heels this morning, that’s for sure.”
“None of us really do, honey.”
“And the peeing thing. Kinda weird the first time.”
“The sitting down?”
“No, the logistics.”
“Well, it’ll be temporary.”
“But there are perks - I like the clothes much more than I expected to. And guys have been tripping over themselves to open doors for me. One man even gave me his cab on the way over here.”
“See? Silver linings. So what are you going to do with yourself?”
“I was thinking pedicure, maybe a massage. Pamper myself.”
“That’s a good idea. Maybe I’ll join you.”
“Terrific! You can give me more tips, like make-up. I don’t think I would know what to do.”
“Neal, honey, you’re doing fine without it.” She made a phone call to the day spa she liked to use and made them appointments. “What do you say we head over there now, get some lunch first?”
“Sounds terrific.”
Elizabeth took his hand and they walked together towards the front door as Peter was coming down the stairs. “I’m taking Neal to the spa, Peter - for a bit of a girl’s outing.”
“Oh?”
“Yep,” Neal answered, “Maybe get a massage together, take a sauna - just us girls in nothing but towels.”
Peter swallowed and attempted a smile. Neal smiled back, what he hoped was the Full Caffrey. Peter swallowed again and then turned on his heel and ran for the bathroom again.
“That was mean,” Elizabeth said.
“I’m sorry.”
“But if you really want to get him, I suggest biting your bottom lip and sticking your tits out next time - drives him wild.”
“Good to know.”
----
Neal and Elizabeth spent the afternoon together, chatting aimlessly about the logistics of being a woman; Neal fervently hoped he wouldn’t have to deal with menstruation. It was nearly 7:00 when he got home, and June met him at the door. “You have a visitor, dear.”
Neal followed her through to the parlor where a tall, young, African American man stood near the fireplace, fingering the corner of an ornamental box on the mantel. He turned and looked at them, seeming to be self-conscious. He was gorgeous, with broad shoulders and a slim waist, large, dark brown eyes and light cocoa skin, a square jaw and high cheekbones. “Hey, Neal,” he said hesitantly, and his voice held a scratchiness and inflection that was familiar, despite the deepness of the voice.
“Diana?”
“In the flesh,” he - she - said.
“You’re prettier than me!”
That broke the ice, and Diana couldn’t resist a laugh. “Don’t think so,” she said, looking Neal up and down appreciatively. “It’s a good thing I’m a lesbian, because… DAYUM.”
Neal could feel his cheeks color slightly at the compliment and he smiled.
June took her leave of them, muttering something about being in the Twilight Zone, and Neal invited Diana to take a seat on the couch. “Where’d you get the clothes?” She was wearing a pair of jeans and a light gauge sweater that hugged the lines of her new body in all the right ways.
“My neighbor - I look after his cat from time to time, so he owed me one.”
“So?”
“What?”
“How do you like it?”
A thoughtful expression crossed her face and her mouth quirked to the side. Neal noticed for the first time she had a close-trimmed goatee and licked his lips unconsciously.
“I keep banging my head on things,” she said. “But people look me in my eyes when I meet them for once, so that’s nice. And standing and peeing? I could get used to that. How ‘bout you?”
“I like how soft I am. It’s nice. Oh, and my tits are spectacular. Here.” He stepped closer, grabbed her hand, and applied it to his chest… where she let it rest without making any other movement.
“Neal, did you just cop a feel on yourself using my hand?”
“Awesome, right?”
She pulled her hand away. “They are that. Mazel tov.”
“So.” He smiled.
“So.” She looked away, and from the side, her much stronger jawline looked to Neal like it could cut bread. He swallowed.
“You wanna get some dinner maybe? I’ve got some wine upstairs, or -“
“We’re really gonna do this?”
“I won’t pressure you, Di. I mean, I’m pretty sure I could talk Peter into a threeway with Elizabeth, no problem.”
“I do - want this. Sorry. It’s just so strange. I mean, we’re friends.”
“That’s what the wine’s for.”
----
They ordered Chinese and drank the better part of a bottle of Pinot Mozzie hadn’t yet gotten his mitts on, then sat on the couch opening their fortune cookies.
“You are about to achieve a lifelong goal,” Diana read hers.
“…in bed,” Neal appended and took a sip of his wine.
“What?”
“Isn't that what you’re supposed to say with fortune cookies? Add ‘in bed’ to the end. That one rocks, by the way.” He reached for his. “A truly rich life contains love and art in abundance.” He stared at the slip of paper in his hand.
“Something wrong?” Diana asked.
“No, just… thinking that maybe this fortune has already come true for me.”
“You think so?”
“Well, I’ve seen and created some masterful works of art in my life.”
“Allegedly.”
He smiled. “Of course. And as far as people who love me,” he looked up at Diana through his eyelashes, “I’ve got that in spades.” He leaned forward and caught Diana’s lips in a chaste kiss, resting one small hand on one hard pec, and then pulled away.
“Is that how you get in all the girlies’ pants, Caffrey?” Diana asked, her voice higher that it had been all night. She cleared her throat.
“Is it working?”
“Yes.” She pounced on him, lips strong and insistent against Neal's, her tongue pushing its way into his mouth. Her mouth was redolent with ginger and garlic and wine, and Neal didn’t think he’d have enough of it.
“Wow, boy-you is a great kisser,” Neal breathed when they came up for air.
“Boy-me nothing, that’s how I always kiss.”
Neal leaned back against the couch cushions, inviting her to follow, and she did, her mouth all over his face and throat, trailing a line along his jaw to his earlobe. He gasped - the spot behind his ear was always his favorite erogenous zone, but now the sensation of her lips there, sucking and kissing, went straight to his groin. The area between his legs throbbed, once, in response.
“God,” he said involuntarily and snaked his arms around her back, pulling her heavier frame on top of him and lying farther back on the couch. When he did, he could feel a telltale sensation pressing against his hip. “Someone’s sportin’ wood,” he observed.
“So romantic you are,” she said sarcastically.
“You sound like Yoda. Come here.” He pulled her in for more kisses, then ran his hand down until he was palming her erection. He squeezed lightly - or what he’d have judged as lightly - and she jumped and sat up.
“What the hell was that!” she said.
“What?”
“I think it moved.”
“Hells yeah it moved. If you want me to, I’ll make it sing.” He sat forward and started kissing her again, pressing her back so that he was now on top of her, grinding his pelvis against hers. The contact elicited another throb of pleasure in his - well, he was going to have to get used to it, wasn’t he - his pussy. Diana and he gasped simultaneously.
“Neal.”
“What?”
“Make it sing?”
Neal grinned, kissed her one more time and got up off the couch, holding out a hand. “Come on - bed,” he ordered. “Sex on this couch is never as satisfying as you’d think.”
“You would know.”
He led her to the bed, losing his shoes as he went, and encouraging her to do the same. When they got to the bed, he had to get on his tiptoes to kiss her, then he put his hands on her shoulders and gently encouraged her to sit. He pulled her sweater off over her head, leaned forward to kiss her and kept going, a knee on the bed as Diana reclined onto her back. Neal got back up and trailed a finger down the center of Diana’s chest, admiring the view. She was, simply put, a perfect specimen of a man, with smooth, nearly hairless skin pulled taut over tight muscles; he couldn’t resist the urge to suck on one pert nipple.
“Holy shit, that’s almost as good as when I’m me,” Diana breathed, arching her back to get more contact.
Neal grinned at her and trailed a line of kisses down her belly, pausing at her belt and resting a small hand there.
“Holy shit,” she repeated, watching him with lust-drunk eyes.
“You said that already.” He made quick work of her belt and fly, opening the pants wide to see her gorgeous cock, now fully engorged, spring out at him like one of those practical joke snakes in a can. “Free ballin’ it, I see.”
“Well, I couldn’t wear any of my underwear,” she explained.
“I get it,” Neal commiserated. His were all too big, so he was also going commando. He pulled the pants down from the hips and off her legs and then sat back on his knees to admire the view. “You’re beautiful, you know that?” he told her truthfully.
“You say that to all the boys?” she asked, trying to make a joke, but the truth of it was in his eyes and she saw he meant it. “Caffrey, I -“
“No, it’s easy to think I’m always fooling around or trying to con you- it’s my MO, isn’t it. But Diana - you take my breath away, truthfully.”
She stared at him for several long seconds, mouth hanging open in shock or surprise, he wasn’t really sure, but he didn’t think it was a good idea to find out just yet. He stood and pulled his dress off over his head, tossing it in the general direction of the foot of the bed and stood there before her, completely naked. His nipples stood fully erect, he noticed, the puckered flesh of his areolas bunching around them; he noticed they were darker now and thought how odd he’d never noticed that in his female partners before.
“Now who’s not breathing?” Diana said, sitting up. She reached out a hand and caught Neal's, pulling him closer, and smothered one of his nipples with her hot mouth. The hairs of her goatee tickled momentarily, but soon enough, his sex pulsed with another throb of desire and he gasped; yes, clearly women won the nipple sensitivity contest.
After a moment, he pulled away and got back on his knees, intending to finish what he’d started. “Some men say that oral sex is the best thing that could possibly happen to them,” he began, his voice taking on a playfully clinical tone, “others think penetration is the way to go. I like both equally.” He took hold of Diana’s penis at the root and began to stroke it slowly. “I’d like you to experience both and give me your opinion.”
She nodded, speechless, eyes intent on what he was doing. He bent forward then, and licked at the little drop of pre-come that had accumulated at the tip, his touch light, his tongue darting. She gasped, but just a little. Next, he kissed the head of it, gently, opening his lips to engulf it, feeling the warmth and girth of it in his mouth. Diana jumped. Neal pulled back, letting it loose with a popping sound, then moved downward and took one lightly-furred ball in his mouth and sucked. Diana’s hips thrust forward once, but she seemed to want to control herself, and so she lay quiet against the bed and let Neal do his thing.
He sucked and kissed her balls for a few minutes, then went back to the cock, working its base with his hand as he engulfed it in his mouth. She groaned, the sound low and yet helpless, and Neal smiled around her at the thought of what he was giving her. At last, he began to go down on her, but before he could get a steady rhythm going, she made an odd keening noise and came in his mouth like a fire hose.
Spluttering a little at the suddenness, Neal nonetheless sucked everything she had out of her, swallowing down the salty-bitter substance and holding her hips steady so she wouldn’t choke him with her thrusts.
“Holy fuck,” she said, and Neal noticed she was panting and trembling all over. He got up and draped along her side, arm across her chest as he kissed her jaw.
“You know, you could tap out, warn a guy,” he admonished playfully, not really meaning it.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” she said, trying to get up.
“It’s all good. Here.” He tongue kissed her. “Now you’re sharing in it.”
“Ew. Still, I suppose it’s only fair. Thank you that was - kind of amazing.”
“Better than… before?”
“Different. Intense in other ways. It felt like… like burning. Like being turned inside out. Like…”
“Exploding?”
“In all the best ways.”
He kissed her again; she responded languidly, her lips going slack. He was not shocked, though he was a little disappointed, when she let out a soft snore. “And now the post-coital nap. Now I know why women complain,” he grumped, but pulled the throw that was laid at the foot of his bed over them and rested his head on her chest, wondering what the female equivalent of blue balls was called.
----
With an indelicate snort, Diana woke and then stiffened beside Neal when she realized she was in a strange place. Neal sat beside her reading a copy of Anaïs Nin’s Delta of Venus to stay in the mood.
“Oh my God, did I fall asleep?”
“It’s the worst type of cliché,” Neal teased.
“I’m such a bad boyfriend.”
Neal ignored the twinge that caused in his chest and pressed on. “I suppose you’re getting the full experience,” he said instead.
“That was like the best nap of my life.”
“You don’t say.”
“I need to pee.”
“SO romantic,” Neal muttered, but he got a chance to admire her as she padded out of the room, with thighs like Doric columns and an ass as round as a basketball.
There went that throbbing again. He pushed the covers off of himself and thoughtfully trailed a hand down his flat belly. Rubbing his hand over the wiry hairs between his legs, he parted the lips with his fingers and settled his middle fingertip just inside.
Of course he was familiar with the female anatomy, and of course he knew how things functioned. But observing it and having it were two different things entirely. He pressed his fingers where he thought his clit ought to be, just north of his opening and prodded around experimentally. It was pleasant but not inherently arousing. He licked his fingers and tried again - the lubrication from his saliva helped, but he couldn’t replicate that soul-touching throb he’d enjoyed earlier.
That was how Diana found him on her return, thoughtfully fingering himself in his bed.
“That is so much hotter than you’ve any right to be, Caffrey,” she said, halting in the middle of the room.
“Is that how you get in all the girlies’ pants, Berrigan?” he teased, and turned over on his side to face her. He liked the effect of seeing the tops of his breasts bunched together- he thought he’d have some killer cleavage if he ever got a chance to wear a bra.
She grinned, taking the shot with good humor, then her face got serious. “Want me to show you how I stay in their pants?”
He nodded and watched in anticipation as she made her way to the bed. Settling herself at the foot of it, she kneeled over him, straddling him. Taking a knee in her right hand, she pulled it up, kissed the inside of it, then moved it to the side. She repeated the maneuver with his other leg until he was lying spread out before her, totally exposed, a hot pool of desire forming suddenly in the pit of his stomach. The intensity of her gaze on him made him squirm. “Wow,” he breathed, and then she sank down and pressed her mouth to his sex and he had other reasons to marvel.
Neal had, of course, given oral sex to men and women, and received it countless times. But never had he experienced it as dealt out by a true mistress of the art. Diana started by pressing the flat of her tongue against him, not quite on the spot he’d been playing with a minute before, but lower and a bit to the left. Next she swirled her tongue around, varying her speed and pressure until at last Neal felt a growing sensation of pressure beneath her touch.
“Oh. Oh my,” he said.
She smiled up at him and then changed her pattern, addressing the same spot on the right side. This time, this touch, made him jump as if a hot brand had touched him, as- he once again felt that welcome throb he’d experienced before.
“Yeah, th-that - do that,” he urged, and she went at it again and again. He was just getting into it, pressing his hips up to encourage her to increase the pressure, when she once again changed her tack. This time, she clamped her lips over the top of Neal's pussy, sucking hard and then soft, hard, then soft, alternating it with swipes and swirls of her tongue. Suddenly, something clenched, and Neal's knees came together in an involuntary response as he himself jumped.
“Ow,” Diana said, rubbing at an ear, but she was smiling even as Neal apologized. Then she started the whole process over again.
By the time she got to the more-sensitive part on the right side, Neal felt like something might happen at any time. But while, in his male body he could at certain points just let himself go and let his orgasm overtake him, he was finding it a frustrating thing to do as a woman. It was as if it was eluding him.
“I’m so close, so close, but I can’t,” he panted, whined, moaned at the same time.
“How ‘bout now?” Diana asked, doubling the pressure.
He felt a slight spasm. “Oh fuck! Right there!” She pressed even harder with her tongue, and Neal gasped as the spasm occurred again, this time followed by another and another. He fought the desire to clamp his knees around her head and just hold her there, but it was a very near thing.
“OhGodohGodohGod!” he cried, his voice hitting higher registers that he didn’t think he was capable of, but then, just as suddenly as the orgasm had hit him, the sensation became too much, almost painful. “Stopstopstop,” he chanted, flinching away from her. She stopped immediately, and Neal twisted onto his side with his legs clamped together as a series of aftershocks rippled through him, slowing in frequency as time passed.
“That was…” he began to say, but he couldn’t find the words. She came up behind him and kissed him, and this time he had the chance to taste himself, and if he was saying so himself, he tasted pretty… OK.
Her larger body was spooning him and he found he liked it - the enveloping warmth and sense of closeness. They lay quietly for a few minutes, and Neal just felt so relaxed.
“So?” Diana prompted at length, pulling Neal's hair away from his face and resting her own head just behind, with her lips touching the edge of his ear. “Was it different? Better?”
“Challenging. I was starting to think I wouldn’t get there, and then it was all too much. But you helped me through it - thank you.”
“Well, you know, I’m more than familiar with the equipment. Next time I’ll give you some pointers.”
“Next time?” he questioned, watching as her hand traced a line down and over his hip to rest between his legs once more. Her fingers parted the lips of his vulva, and once again pressed in all the right places, though this time much more gently. Neal felt another spasm - lighter, not as intense, but there nonetheless. “Oh,” he said, his mouth open. He closed his eyes and lay his head back against her shoulder.
Her voice was quiet, deep, in his ear. “This time, I want you to tighten up your pelvic muscles. You know what those are?”
“Uh-uh.”
“Have you had to pee and needed to hold it?” He nodded. “Do that.” He nodded again.
Diana’s hand’s motion got more insistent, more concentrated in one small area.
“Oh, right there!” Neal gasped, clenching his muscles like she told him. This time, as he came, she let her first two fingers travel farther down to his opening, pushing inside him; it was only two, albeit man-sized, but the pleasure-pain of it was exquisite, and once again Neal was clenching his thighs as he climaxed.
“That right there?” Diana’s voice rumbled softly in his ear when his breathing had calmed down. “Was your first multiple orgasm.”
“Oh my - really? So soon? That is…
Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me, thank yourself. The female anatomy is a wondrous thing.”
“Amen.” He was almost disappointed when she removed her hand, grabbing it to bring to his mouth for a kiss; he stiffened when he saw there was a smear of blood on it. “Oh my God, what…?”
“Shit, sorry, Caffrey.” She sat up. “You OK?”
Neal sat up as well. “I… think so? What is that?”
“Looks like your new body really is new - I just popped your cherry.”
Neal's mind boggled. “Don’t be crude.”
“OK, fine, I just ushered you into the flowering promise that is womanhood,” she snarked, but Neal was still slightly disturbed by the sight. He did a quick mental and physical inventory - he didn’t feel any pain, not really. Should he be concerned? He looked down at himself, at his new body, and for the first time that day he felt wrong somehow.
“Hey, hey,” Diana said, noticing his reaction and leaning forward. “Don’t freak out.”
“I’m not… I mean, I don’t think…” He really had no words.
She reached out for him with her other hand and rested it lightly on his shoulder. “Tell me what you’re feeling. Right now, in this moment,” she ordered.
He answered immediately, spurred on by her directness. “Confused. Different.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know why - isn’t this supposed to be an important moment or something?”
“Only if you want it to be. Do you? Neal?”
“I didn’t think so before.”
“But you do now?”
He looked up and saw her handsome face, so different, yet still Diana and realized this time with her had brought up some unexpected emotions. Sure, he’d always found her attractive, but he wasn’t in love with her. They were friends - best buds - had been for months. That was all there was to it. Right?
“I need a bath,” he said abruptly, then got up and left the room.
When he returned, wearing an old t-shirt that hung on him like a mini-dress, dark hair wet from the bath and hanging around his shoulders in springy curls, he found Diana sitting cross-legged on his bed in a pair of his sleep pants that looked too small for her, checking emails on her phone. “Hey,” she said putting the phone down, eyes large and concerned. “You OK?”
“Yes.” He was. Physically. There had been no more pain and the blood before had been nearly all there was.
“You sure?”
He took in a slow breath and held it, went to the bed and stood beside it, shivering suddenly. “Yes.”
“I don’t believe you.”
He didn’t believe himself either. All of this had brought up feelings he didn’t have before, didn’t know he had - what, was he now in tune with his “feminine side”? What a load of horseshit. It was probably hormones. That had to be it. Right?
He closed his eyes and mentally shook himself out, took a mental lap, a timeout. He felt her hand envelop his and opened his eyes. “I’m good, Diana.” She drew him forward, until his knees hit the mattress.
“I don’t want to think I’ve hurt you. You’re my friend and I care about you, Neal. Maybe this was a mistake.”
He blinked, put all the emotion away and smiled. “It wasn’t, I swear.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his right leg tucked beneath him and swung his hair to the side; it was clinging annoyingly around his neck.
“This is very pretty,” Diana said, catching a curl between two fingers.
“Thanks.”
“So are you, Neal.” Her eyes were large, soulful, and he had no idea what she was feeling.
“Should we get some sleep?” he said, crawling into the bed. Diana moved backwards to accommodate him. “I mean, would you like to stay?”
“Yes,” she said after a pause. “If you want me to.”
“I want you to.”
----
Neal slept like a rock and when he woke, it was to find Diana’s arm slung across his hip and a familiar hardness pressing against his ass. She stirred beside him and then stiffened up, pulling away with a mumbled, “Sorry.”
He turned over to face her. “Don’t be - morning wood is normal, means everything’s working properly.”
“How do you guys even deal?”
He smiled. “It’ll go away. You want some breakfast? There’re always croissants on Sundays.” One of the perks of living with an elderly widow was the option of breakfasts not spent alone. “I can run downstairs.”
“Sure. I’m gonna take a shower if that’s OK.”
“Go for it.” He dropped a hand down to her still-raging hard-on. “And have fun with this,” he added with a smirk.
Neal had retrieved fresh croissants, still warm from the oven, as well as some orange juice and coffee from June’s kitchen when Diana finally emerged from the bathroom, once again wearing Neal's sleep pants. “Everything come out OK?”
She gave him a look, but then her eyes widened. “I have to say the orgasms are more intense as a man.”
“Just not as repeatable,” Neal added. “I won’t bore you with details about refractory periods. Have some coffee.”
They spent an hour enjoying breakfast and comparing notes on their new physiologies, and Neal all but forgot the emotional upset of the night before.
“You doing anything today? Feel like hanging out?” Diana asked.
“There is this new Sargent exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum I’ve been meaning to check out.”
“Which is well outside your radius. Am I nothing to you but a convenient escort?” she joked.
“Don’t be silly,” he said, his voice low and throaty, “you’re also a great lay.”
She laughed. “Well, thank you, I think.”
“Don’t mention it.” He rose and went to get changed, coming out wearing another of Cindy’s dresses and carrying a pullover he thought would be large enough for Diana to borrow, and some underwear for her.
“Thanks, I’ll try not to stretch the underwear out,” she said, comically going for a crotch-grab.
“Never, ever do that again,” Neal deadpanned and walked over to the mirror to try to figure out what to do about his hair. It was a little too wild for his liking and he missed his usual, orderly style. He lifted it off his neck, pushed it around a little, not quite certain.
“Leave it down,” Diana called from the doorway. “It’s pretty.”
Neal eyed himself in the mirror doubtfully, but did as she said.
They spent the day at the museum and then stopped by a farmer’s market when Neal offered to make them dinner later. Diana was buying some flowers for the table when the elderly Chinese woman who ran the stand handed her a salmon pink Gerbera daisy, and gestured at Neal. “For your girlfriend, for her hair,” the woman urged, pressing the thing into her hand. “The stem’s broken, I can’t use it.”
“Oh, we’re not together,” Diana said.
“Just friends,” Neal said, but took the flower and slid the stem over his right ear. “How’s that look?”
“Gorgeous,” Diana said, her face suddenly serious.
“Not together,” the Chinese woman said with a smile, handing Diana her change.
----
“So,” Neal said, leaning a hip against his kitchen counter, watching Diana wash the dishes - as she’d insisted she do since Neal had cooked.
“So,” she said, eyeing him.
“We still haven’t fucked.” Just to make sure his point hit home, he waggled his eyebrows.
“We haven’t,” she said evenly, turning off the water and drying her hands on a kitchen towel.
“Did you still want to?”
“Did you?”
“You going to keep repeating nearly everything I say?” She smiled, but there was uncertainty in her eyes, and a kind of solicitousness that Neal kind of hated seeing there. They’d spent the entire day together, and had regained a measure of the friendliness and banter they’d always had, and he was hoping she’d have forgotten his emotional outburst from the night before. “I’m OK, you know, you won’t break me,” he assured her.
“Won’t I?” she asked, her eyebrows knit together with concern and, deciding he didn’t want to face this conversation and what it meant, he just went up on his toes, slung his arms around her neck and kissed her.
Diana’s arms slipped around his back, and feeling them was so welcome, he melted against her. She widened her stance, deepening the kiss and dropping her right hand to the small of his back, over his ass and to the back of his thigh. Pulling up, she seated his leg around her waist, pressing her crotch against the warmth between Neal's thighs. Neal gasped at her sudden, answering heat, grinding against her as they plundered each other’s mouths. Finally, Diana reached down with her other arm and lifted him up completely. Gasping, Neal broke the kiss and looked down on her; her pupils were so large the irises of her brown eyes were nearly obliterated. Neal locked his legs around Diana’s waist, tightened his hold around her neck and pulled her face against his breasts.
Diana moaned against Neal's right breast, mouthing at his nipple through the thin material of the dress he wore. “Oh God!” Neal breathed, throwing his head back. As Diana began to move them slowly toward the bed, Neal leaned his head forward and began to kiss her again. When they got to the edge of the bed, Diana laid Neal down on it gently, then pulled back and sat beside him.
“So, so gorgeous,” she breathed, trailing a finger lightly down Neal's chest to rest at the buttons at the top of the dress’s bodice.
Neal could feel his heart pounding, from excitement and just a small frisson of fear. He watched as she opened the buttons on the dress, stopping after the fourth one to pull it aside, exposing one pert breast. Once again, she bent her head down and began to suckle, teasing the nipple to a hard nib in seconds, and Neal felt a dull, aching throb awaken in his pussy. His breath hitched and Diana looked up at him. He smiled at her, but she was deadly serious at her work, and went back to it until Neal was squirming in discomfort at the over-stimulation. He pulled back with a hiss, and Diana sat up, soothing the puckered flesh with cool fingertips. Then she pushed the other side of his bodice away and performed the same ritual on his other breast.
The pleasure of this simple act was nearly overwhelming, and Neal fought the urge to touch himself or clench his thighs together. When his breathing began to hitch, Diana sat up yet again and proceeded to unbutton the rest of the dress, laying it open and then taking him in her arms again and kissing him long and slow on the lips. By this time, her erection was a hard, insistent thing against Neal's thigh, and he reached a hand down to palm it, but Diana pulled away and looked down on him with hooded eyes.
“Uh-uh, don’t touch. I want it to last.”
“OK.”
“I’m going to fuck you now.”
“OK.”
She gave him one last kiss and then rose, stripping off her clothes without delay, and then getting down on her knees, pulling his dress off and then straddling him. “How?” she muttered, and Neal obligingly lifted one knee to his chest, exposing his throbbing sex to her; he felt a rush of air against it, against the moisture there. Diana ran a finger lightly over his opening and when she raised it, it was glistening with Neal's juices. She sucked on her finger, went back for more and held it to Neal's lips. He licked her finger, tasting himself, and moaned at the utter sensuality of it all. She followed it up with another kiss, resting her elbow beside him and nudging his raised leg until his foot was resting on her lower back.
Neal could feel the heat from her cock as it lightly brushed against him. She ended their kiss and reached her other hand down between them, guiding the tip of her cock to his entrance.
“Easy,” Neal said as the head pushed lightly against him. Diana nodded, concentrating on her progress. Neal held his breath, trying to relax everything; the sensation of Diana’s cock pushing in and stretching him was, at first, an unpleasant burn and he closed his eyes tight.
“That all right?” she asked, pausing.
“Pull back?”
Nodding, Diana did so, and Neal breathed for a few seconds more. “OK.” Once again, Diana pushed herself inside him, much slower this time. Neal could feel his body stretching to accommodate, the burning no less intense than before, but he bore it better. After more time than he thought it’d take, Diana was at last fully seated inside him.
“How’s that?” she asked, looking up with concern in her eyes.
Neal was nearly overwhelmed by the feeling of fullness; he clenched his pussy involuntarily and Diana groaned, “Oh my God!”
“Sorry!”
“Don’t apologize. Christ, you’re so tight. I don’t know if I’ll last here, Neal.”
“You have to.”
“What do you usually do?”
“I calculate pi in my head.”
“Who does that?”
“Untested math geniuses who want to come at the same time as their partners.”
“Untested?”
“Aw, you think I’m a genius?”
“I think you’re a lot of things. I’m going to move a little now, is that all right?”
Neal nodded. Diana pulled out slightly - not all the way - then pushed back into him.
“Huh,” Neal said.
“That good?”
“I think it could be.”
“I know it might not sound like much, but concentrate on relaxing everything below your waist,” Diana advised. Neal complied, and as Diana pulled out and pushed back in, the going became a little easier, apparently for both of them. “There we go,” she said to him with a smile. She kissed him, pushing her arms beneath him and cradling his head in her hands.
“That’s nice,” he said, a small hand coming up to touch Diana’s face; he traced the outline of her lips with his fingertips, and then strained up for another kiss. Diana began to pump in and out of him again, shallowly. Neal moaned into her mouth, not so much turned on by the act as by the closeness he felt with her. He imagined the former would come with practice. “I think I could take you going a little faster,” he told her.
Diana nodded and pumped her hips a few more times. “Oh Christ!” she moaned, biting her lip.
“That good?” Neal asked. She nodded. “Tell me, tell me what it’s like,” he encouraged.
“You’re so… I don’t… I almost can’t feel anything else but you,” she breathed, her eyes closed.
“You say the sweetest things.”
“I’m so close,” she gasped. “I think.”
“Oh.”
“You too?”
He shook his head.
“Here.” Diana slowed her movements and reached down to finger Neal's clit. He jumped, the sudden contact setting off a spasm of pleasure. She pressed harder, worrying her finger over his special spot and he moaned again, or maybe it was a whine, he wasn’t sure.
“God!”
“Closer?” He nodded. “What did I teach you?” Neal concentrated on tightening his pelvic muscles as Diana worked him; suddenly her cock stopped moving and Neal clamped down on her even harder as his orgasm began. “Fucking hell,” she yelled, removing her hand and bracing herself on the bed.
Neal could feel hot pulses inside him as Diana came, thrusting shallowly inside him. She buried her face in his neck and he held her close. When their breathing had evened out, she pushed herself back up on her elbows and looked down on him.
She pushed the sweaty hair out of his face and looked into his eyes. “I could fall in love with a girl like you,” she breathed, pulling gently out of him and sliding to the side, pulling him on top of her.
Neal nestled his head in the crook between her neck and shoulder and breathed in their mingled scent. “There are no girls like me - I’m a boy, remember?”
That’s how they fell asleep.
----
Neal woke with morning wood.
He was, at first, surprised to feel nothing but disappointment. This meant Diana would leave. He sighed.
Behind him, Diana stirred; she was lying with her hand over his hip and her face buried in the back of his neck. She was still in her man’s body. Neal knew the moment she woke and understood what had happened, because she stiffened like she’d spotted a rat or something. She sat up.
“Good morning,” Neal said as he rolled onto his back, his voice as neutral as he could make it.
“You’re back to you,” she said.
“Yeah. Good thing, huh?” He thought he sounded convincing.
“Yeah,” she replied, and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “You OK?”
“I need a shower.” He got out of the bed and made for the bathroom.
When he emerged, wrapped in a robe, he found her dressed already and standing next to the table.
“I should go,” she said, gesturing. “You’ve got to get to work and I need to get home.”
“Sure. I’ll tell Peter you’ve still got the flu.”
“Thanks. I’ll um…” she gestured for the door and then walked toward it, he following her.
“You sure you don’t want to stay? We could still, you know…” He tried for a lascivious grin, but he knew it missed the mark.
Diana was gracious enough to ignore it. “Listen, Neal, thanks for this weekend. It was really…” Her voice trailed off.
“Entertaining? Educational? Athletic?”
“Special,” she said simply and then left.
His gut felt as empty as the apartment when she’d gone.
----
“Oh my God - say that again?” Peter’s eyes were practically goggling, which piqued Neal's curiosity. He was sitting across from his partner, reviewing a cold case and waiting for Peter to come with him to lunch. “You’re shitting me. What do the doctors say?”
Doctors?
Neal's ears perked up and he listened intently to the rest of Peter’s conversation, but got nothing elucidating. Finally he hung up and Neal regarded him with raised eyebrows. “Well? What was that all about?”
“It was Ed Rogers down in DC - you know, my old partner?” Neal nodded. “He’s pregnant.”
Neal blinked slowly and then his brain went offline. “What?”
“Apparently, men who’ve had sex while they had the clownfish flu can become pregnant. And when they change back, they’re still in the family way.”
Neal blinked again.
“He’s not the only one - more cases keep coming up. The CDC is having a collective cow. There’s about to be a huge press conference. Isn't that the craziest thing you’ve ever heard, Neal? Neal?”
Neal couldn’t feel his head.
“Why so pale, buddy? It’s not as if you had unprotected sex when you were a woman, right?”
----
Thank you for your time.
This story has a sequel: The Other Shoe