The night the Fusion Wave hit, Kylie and Charlie were sitting on her couch, watching some trashy reality show neither of them really cared about. One second, she was kicking her feet up on the coffee table, complaining about her latest failed Tinder date. The next, she had Charlie’s legs—and his dick.
It was a hell of a thing to get used to. Kylie had never been shy about her tastes. She liked women. A lot. She liked them soft, curvy, and absolutely brimming with confidence. She liked pressing up against them in crowded bars, liked the way their fingers curled in her hair when she kissed them. After years of repression during her childhood and teenage years, she was finally free - and running pretty wild. What she hadn’t planned on was having a dick between her legs - literally. On the other hand, Charlie had always been a pretty straight-laced guy that was pretty serious about his relationships.
He also had a sizeable, and evidently, unrequited crush on Kylie.
For the first couple of weeks post-Lockdown, she’d tried to act like it wasn’t a big deal - her preferences hadn't seemed to shift much, and though her secret was big (pun intended), it was easy enough to hide. Her jeans fit different—way different—but she still wore them tight. A little too tight, to be honest - things got awkward and very constrained when she got horny. On the other hand, Charlie, now walking around with her old apple-bottom, had been even more confused. He’d never been into guys, and yet, somehow, he still found himself catching glimpses of his new figure in the mirror, half-admiring, half-horrified.
“Your ass,” he’d grumbled one day, tugging at the waistband of his sweatpants. “Why is it so big?”
Kylie had only laughed. “You’re welcome!" She smirked as she scratched her groin ". . . I didn't expect this to be so big either!”
Things really changed the first night she went out again. It wasn’t like she’d stopped being a woman—she still had the same sharp cheekbones, the same wry smirk, the same playful confidence. But when she stepped into a club, rolling her shoulders back, hips swaying just enough to turn heads, the kind of attention she got was different. Not just the girls she liked and straight guys who didn't know any better, but now new heads looked at her longer. Some with curiosity. Some with confusion. And some, very clearly, with interest.
It was strange, but not unpleasant. More than once, she’d found herself sandwiched between two bodies on the dance floor—one set of hands rough and calloused, another soft and knowing. The world after the Wave was messier, the lines of attraction blurrier, and for someone like Kylie, who’d always been about pleasure first and foremost, it was an opportunity. Bisexuality was quickly becoming a more common norm, and among transformees with a mess of both male and female characteristics, the terms "gynephilia" (attraction to femininity) and "androphilia" (attraction to masculinity) were on the rise. At the clubs she frequented, both guys and girls were interested in both of her halves . . .
Charlie, for his part, tried to pretend he wasn’t watching when she’d come home sometimes, breathless, her lips a little swollen - she'd been getting *really* used to her new equipment. He definitely tried to pretend he didn’t notice how his own body felt when she teased him about the attention he was starting to get.
“I’m telling you, man, women are still into you.” She nudged his shoulder one evening, watching his face turn red. “To be honest, you've got an advantage now. You appeal to straight women with your face and pecs. But lesbians see that nice peach you’re carrying around. Give it time.”
He’d groaned, covering his face with both hands.
Then came the night they both got drunk together.
Neither of them liked talking about how it started. Maybe it was a joke taken too far. Maybe it was the way the tequila burned on the way down, making them reckless. Maybe it was that Charlie still looked at Kylie like he remembered who she was before, and Kylie liked the way her old ass pressed up against her new groin - she realized in the heat of the moment that this was how her friend had seen her all along.
Whatever the reason, it happened. And it kept happening.
They never stopped being best friends (now with benefits), but now, there were rules. If one of them had someone over, the other would make themselves scarce. If they went out together, Kylie would take the lead, dragging Charlie into her ridiculous plans, usually involving some wide-eyed third party who hadn’t quite figured out how to say no to a challenge.
And as for clothing - Kylie made sure her friend wore things that would make his bubble butt extra appealing. She herself stopped caring if her bulge was noticeable or not.
They danced with each other and around fellas and gals they fancied, and could score absolutely anyone. Straight guys? No one would get a good look at Charlie's face, but plenty of his ass and Kylie's chest. For straight girls they'd do the opposite. As for anyone not within heterosexual norms, they got creative.
They'd head to various clubs and bars every now and then after work, and score new lady of the night, man of the night, futanari of the night, shemale of the night, or even a person that was all of the above.
Tonight, a pair of blue-haired conjoined twins caught their eyes.
Charlotte and Claire were their names, and they were fresh off a break-up with their long-time boyfriend - who said that he couldn't commit to loving two women, especially women that had a longer dick than him.
Though they hadn't been to a club since the start of that years-long relationship, they killed it on the dance floor with their four legs (all of which support a sizeable and curvy pair of hips).
Charlie couldn't stop gawking at them and the heels they wore, while Kylie was drawn to the twin's very squished pairs of tits.
Besides the four legs, Charlotte and Claire mostly fit the textbook description of Dithoracic Parapagus conjoined twins. Their rear/upward facing arms were, however, conveniently fused into a singular, two-handed, and hyperflexible one - which they used to playfully squeeze Charlie's cheeks - to his delight.
Kylie entered with some titillating conversation while Charlie complemented the twins' leather jacket. By the time the two introduced themselves and complemented Charlotte and Claire's hair - it was clear which twin was attracted to who.
As the lights flashed and the crowds cheered and spun around them, Charlie made sure Claire's blushing face was locked onto his boyish face and Kylie's tight bum, while Kylie kept Charlotte's attention firmly on her lips and plunging neckline.
And when Kylie started gyrating her hips, and Charlie started outright twerking up against them, they made sure that the two gawked in the right directions.
This was followed by some lively chatter over drinks at the bar - and then a passionate make-out session in the alleyway, with a head and a pair of lips for both "dickgirl" and "pussyboy."
They could barely keep their pants on for the drive back to the twins' apartment, but after a very, very euphoric bedroom experience, the four of them plopped down together to watch an episode of "The Amazing Race."
The twins were half asleep. The only clothing then donned, to keep them warm, was a messy grey 3-sleeved T-Shirt that barely covered their breasts. Their tanned legs were splayed across the couch and the ground, and their "snake" lay dangling and limp, almost touching the carpet. It still glistened, and globs of cum and precum still oozed from its urethra. Their arms were wrapped around Charlie and Kylie - who lay along their legs, leaning against their chests. As they drifted off, they felt what they had been seeking - safety, warmth, and comfort.
Charlie shifted in his spot, grunting as he rubbed his very full belly. His vagina and anus, both still pleasurably aching, spit out a few more globs of cum - the twins' cannon put Kylie's joystick to shame. On that note, his mouth ached a little too.
All in all, he was happy that he had two new friends - and had yet another chance to "hang out" with his crush.
On the other side of the half-awake twins was Kylie - she ran a hand over her still sore nipples, which Charlie had taken the initiative of pleasuring. Her balls churned, and she stifled a moan.
Charlie could REALLY take it. If only the Fusion Wave had come sooner . . .
She looked over at Charlie, and whispered, with a teasing smile:
"I told you girls were still into you."