Office Nerds vs Magic

— Here! I think I found it, — Ryan exclaimed, pointing his finger at some line in the book, and the girl sitting a bit aside with an obviously concentrated face immediately jumped up. Her tits bounced from the sudden movement, and she instantly scrunched up her cute little face in displeasure. Taking a few quick steps on her heels, trying her best — but completely clumsily — not to fall, she hurried over to the table and, swaying slightly, grabbed the edge to keep her balance.

— Omg… Ryan, like… what is it… is it, like, really the one now? — her voice rang out bright and slightly dragged, with that typical bimbo undertone, as if she could forget what she’s talking about any second but is desperately trying to look smart. She bit her lip, staring at the line in the book, her long nails tapping against the tabletop as Ryan's hand appeared behind her back.

— Look, here... — he said, pulling her gently by the waist, his fingers seeming to accidentally slide across Brandy’s bare side, making her flinch. — It says: “The werewolf effect is partial and reversible, provided the artifact formula is pronounced precisely within twenty-four hours…” — he fell silent, frowning, reading further.

— Uhm, Ry... — Brandy's voice rang again, slyly, with that same ridiculous accent she still couldn’t control, — you’re, like… grabbing my… uh… side again, yeah… And, uhm… werewolf? You mean… like me right now? — She bit the arm of her glasses, more pretending to understand, while her eyes darted over the lines, but it was obvious that every third term made her blink thoughtfully, like her brain was glitching on the complicated words.

Ryan snorted without turning around:

— Brandon, I’m begging you… you seriously don’t get that… — he stopped mid-sentence, glancing at her breasts, visibly bulging out of the tiny top, barely holding in place as she leaned forward, — …fuck.

Brandy looked at Ryan, who was staring right into her cleavage, and inside her, a whirlwind of contradicting sensations and emotions screamed louder than ever. On one hand, she felt a wave of some incomprehensible pleasure, and on the other, she was drowning in humiliation and shame.

— Uuuh, Ryaaan, bro, like, stop staring at my… well, tits! The fuck is wrong with you? You, like… lost your damn mind? You know exactly who I am! Hands off, okay! — she said angrily, but didn’t move an inch, still clinging to the edge of the table like she was afraid if she let go, she’d break her neck again on those heels.

Ryan chuckled, his fingers still touching her waist — so slim, smooth, slightly damp from light excitement — and no matter how hard he tried, his gaze slipped back down into the deep cleavage of her top. To hell with all the protests, because like it or not, right now standing in front of him was a real, living, dumb, hot chick with curves, and in her head… well, honestly, there was some kind of permanent system reboot going on.

— Brandon, Brandy… — he muttered quietly, sighing, looking straight into her eyes, where for a moment the image of that same Brandon flickered — the guy from the development department, always in a wrinkled hoodie with those permanent dark circles under his eyes from endless overtime. Brandon, with whom they both — the best minds of the design bureau — built prototypes, argued till they were hoarse, and of course, grinned and laughed at all that "pseudo-magical bullshit" they found in the back of the archive. And obviously, when they got that weird "Artifact Book," they just used one of the spells out of boredom, coming up with the idea to have some ridiculous sexy co-worker with insanely high libido and low IQ appear in their department. And it worked.

Now, standing in front of him wasn’t Brandon, but Brandy. With long legs in sheer tights, a tiny top that could barely hold her new, bouncy Tits, and a face that was an offensive reminder of what happened: plump lips, glossy bright lip gloss, huge doll-like eyes, and that ridiculous blonde ponytail tied at the crown of her head.

— You, like, uhhh… why’d you go quiet, Ry? — her voice snapped him out of his thoughts, and she tilted her head slightly, long dark strands gathered in a ponytail falling onto her shoulder, brushing against Ryan. — You, mmm… thinking again that I’m now… well, not a guy? Though I’m still, uhhh… kinda… a guy inside, right? — she clearly tangled herself up in the logic of her words, biting her lip thoughtfully, trying to peek at the book again and somehow ease the tension, even pressing against him, like apologizing.

Ryan pulled himself together, shifted his eyes to the book, and pointed at the line with his finger.

— Yeah, that’s it, Bren...

— Yeah, like, okay, yeah, Brandy… I’m, like, all good with that, I even like it better this way — she interrupted him, waving her hand with long nails. — So, like, I already get that… mmm… I can go back, yeah… But, uhh… like twenty-four hours, right?

She pressed into him even harder, completely not noticing it, her hips sliding along his legs, and suddenly, swaying clumsily on those damn heels, she dropped right onto his lap. Her plump lips curled into a delighted smile, her hair tickled his face, and her nails clumsily tapped on the book again, almost scratching off a few letters from the ancient page.

— Oooh, Ryan, you’re such a genius… — her voice dragged out those bimbo-ish intonations again, like she was auditioning for beach party queen. — Seriously, this is, like… a find! You, mmm… really found that spell… spel… uhh… — she wrinkled her forehead, trying to pick the right word but clearly getting lost somewhere between her desperate attempts to look smart and the distracting thoughts about how tight her short top was stretching over her Breasts. — That, you know, thingy, so I can, like… well… be norm… normal again, okay? — She nodded so hard the ponytail on her head bounced cheerfully.

And before he could say a single word, she, to her own surprise, suddenly leaned in and pecked him on the lips. Childishly quick, but with some completely ridiculous excitement.

— Damn, sorry, I’m, like… just so happy! — She giggled, shifting around on his lap, clearly not realizing how half of what Brandon never had was now practically spilling out of her top — and Ryan was barely holding himself back.

Ryan closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together. Everything was going off script. He stared at her — this ridiculous but insanely sexy hybrid — his former best friend, Brandon, with whom they soldered circuits at night, debated field resonance theories, and laughed at the “ancient fairy tales” from the archive.

And now Brandy was writhing on his lap — all glossy, in tiny shorts, slim legs, that dumb look, and a body that already had half the office submitting “help the new girl adapt” offers.

— So, uhm… — Brandy squirmed, settling in more comfortably, but the way her hips slid along his legs made the moment dangerously charged, especially with her face now way too close to his. — Let’s, like… you know… get started? You’ll read that, uhh… formula or whatever? I’m, like, ready! — She batted her lashes, pursed her lips, trying to look focused, but her fingers awkwardly caught on one of Ryan's shirt buttons, and she absentmindedly started fiddling with it, not noticing how she kept pressing her Boobs against him more and more.

— Get started? — Ryan repeated, his voice suddenly hoarse, his hand trailing along her waist, fingers slipping down, catching the edge of her shorts. His breathing grew heavier. — Get started… yeah…

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing along her neck, and before she could process it, he kissed the corner of her mouth, slow and deliberate.

— Uhh… Ryan?.. — her voice faltered, she blinked, her brain clearly stalling at the realization that his idea of “getting started” wasn’t quite what she expected. — You, like… doing something else? Or is this… part of the spell?.. — She stumbled again, feeling his hand slide along her side, fingers brushing her bare skin under the top.

— Brandy, — he looked straight into her eyes, and for a split second, the old Brandon flickered there — confused, embarrassed — but it all drowned under that new appearance: plump lips, big eyes, ridiculously long lashes, and that helplessly stretched-out bimbo voice.

— Relax, — he whispered, his hand gliding up her back, catching the moment she pressed herself even closer, like she couldn’t understand what was happening.

Brandy tried to focus, opened her mouth to say something, but instead all that came out was a dumb:

— Oh… uhhh… — she giggled again, her fingers trembling, her Breasts squished between them, and her head practically spinning. — I, hehe, yeah, don’t mind if that’s how it goes… But you, like… totally… remember what to do, right? — But her body was already ready for something else.