Had she known about his desire for doggy-style car rides, Genevieve would have been happy to oblige then and there. She had a car, she could drive, he could sit in the back seat with the windows rolled down halfway (after all, she didn't want to risk him jumping out, right?) and she could live with the fur that would inevitably get all over the upholstery.
She was about ready to do the same thing with his underwear until he did it himself. Genevieve sat back with a look of smug approval on her face. "Okay, now do a little dance..." she said, though really, the suggestion was late. Strippers danced throughout the strip, not just after. Still, she gave her best impression of a wolf whistle, which was not as impressive as she'd hoped since Genevieve couldn't really whistle. It was a work in progress. Still. After years of trying and failing.
Not one to miss an opportunity, as soon as Charles turned around, she gave him a quick, firm smack on the behind. "Woo!" she laughed. Then she decided to be a good girl finally, and kept her hands to herself, even though she wanted to do more. She even went so far as to sit on her hands, all the while grinning at Charles.
The change was...well, everything she had expected and hoped for. It was a little gross to watch, but this was a woman with a morbid sense of curiosity, who dealt with gross and macabre on the daily without losing any sleep. It was a weird thing to watch, and she looked both disgusted and utterly fascinated by the process, but the end result was a beautiful carnivore. Her expression quickly changed to a grin when he was settled in his second form.
She sat forward then, and without asking permission--what could he do, shake his head?--she ran her fingers over and through the soft fur of his back, then up to his head and behind his ears. There was no reason for her to be afraid, she assumed, since he seemed completely in control as a wolf. Gen doubted he would let this encounter have happened if he didn't trust himself to behave around her as a wolf. "That was..." She paused, searching for the right word. In the end, she only came up with, "...so fucking cool!" Both hands were petting him now, one behind the ears and the other under his chin.
"Hey," she said with a sly look, "how about a belly rub, huh?" The urge to throw out dog cliches like 'who's a good boy' or 'sit, stay' was strong, but she narrowly managed to resist. For now.