For context and intro story, read “A most interesting date” and “The birthday boy” first.

“What do you mean I can’t get on?!?” I ask, almost yelling.

“It’s just that I… Would you mind stepping aside while I call my supervisor? I want to check with him just to be sure.”

“IS IT BECAUSE OF MY....”

Angie puts her hand on my shoulder. “Sydney, please, just… Calm down. We’re going to get this sorted out.”

“Of course we will, this is fucking unacceptable!!!”

“Please Miss, you’re making a fool of yourself in front of the other customers.” The fifteen-ish year old boy standing on the platform types away on his phone before turning away from me.

“I’m making a scene because I’m being discriminated against!” I throw out, pointing at him menacingly.

I stand aside along with Angie as two other people shift us and get secured in their seats by another teen. As we go back into the line, I scan the few hundred other people waiting behind us. Sympathy, understanding.. I find none of that in their eyes. They’re either staring at their phones or pretending that this didn’t happen. I turn my head towards the rollercoaster as the pressure whistles out of the cylinders.

“This is fucking ridiculous.” I mumble to Angie. “This is fucking stupid. Don’t tell me I won’t even be able to get on any rides!”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be just fiiiiine..” Her voice isn’t so convincing. “Look, that guy looks important. Bet you that’s his boss.”

Surely enough, the new arrival, wearing a branded polo and hat, walks up to chat with the angsty teen, the latter not-so-subtly pointing at me midway through their argument. We frown simultaneously, looking each other in the eyes. Mr Polo takes out his phone to call yet someone else, himself probably being too thick to solve an easy problem on its own. Barely a few moments later, he hangs up and approaches us.

“I’m extremely sorry madam, but I can’t let you get on that roller coaster today.”

I feel part of myself crumbling in my guts. “I’d like to know why as well as which rule you’re referring to to make your decision.”

He takes his hat off to reveal the atrocious frosted tips he has inflicted upon himself. “Look, it’s not rocket science. It’s posted right up there on the wall. Rule number 1: Sit down and stay put. Rule number 2: Grab onto the handles for the duration of the ride. Considering you don’t have arms, I’m afraid that second one is impossible. Therefore, I can’t let you on.”

Tears blur my vision and start rolling down my cheeks. I look at the people behind me, then at Angie, then back at him. A whimper escapes my lips, piercing through the mask I’ve built myself to wear when I go out in public. As we make our way towards the exit, my shoulders start quivering uncontrollably. We go down the staircase in silence.

“I’ve never been so ashamed in my entire life.” I say when we finally set foot on the pavement again.

“Ohhhh Syd, I hate to see you like that. Come here.”

I accept her embrace and bury my face deep in her neck. As usual, the feeling of her arms around me manages to calm me. Slowly, it washes away the anger and the humiliation I’ve just experienced, only to turn them into a longing sadness.

“Why can’t I just be like everyone else? I’m not asking for a fucking PS5! Everybody’s got arms, it’s not that complicated! All I want is to feel normal...”

“Cabbage…”

“Don’t… *Sigh* Okay yeah, I knowwww, I’ve said that a thousand times already…” We find a nearby bench to sit on and Angie finishes drying my face while I keep rambling. “But I mean we’ve been waiting in that line for two hours and they won’t even let me on it, for crying out loud. They’d let her on, why not me?!”

I point at a larger woman in her fifties with my foot but she doesn’t even turn around. I drop my flip flop on the ground to retrieve my phone from my bag, swiping it open with the flick of a toe.

“With me, Angie, in one.. two.. three.. Genetiiiiiiics!” The timer runs out as Angie starts rolling her eyes, immortalizing a perfect representation of this moment.

“You know, you could’ve ended up a lot….”

“Come on, don’t play the “there’s always worse” card with me. Can’t I just whine and wish I had bones sticking out of my thorax in peace?!”

“Did you see yourself take that picture, Sydney? Did you?” Her tone is harsh, almost violent. I shake my head. “You just took a perfectly centered photo of the both of us, reaching two feet above your head using your fucking toes.”

I frown, embarrassed. I lower my head. “...what about it..”

“If that doesn’t prove you can do just as much as everybody else, I seriously don't know what will. I’ve told you again and again but I’ll say it once more: You don’t need arms, you’re absolutely perfect the way you are.” Pursing my lips doesn’t stop them from shaking, and blinking sure as hell can’t prevent yet another flow of tears. “Ohhh Syd don’t cry, it’s gonna be okay…”

“It’s just that I love you so much…”

I embrace her with my left leg and bring her closer to me, sniffing away my tears. Ever since I’ve traded bodies, I’ve had a hard time adjusting to it’s limitations, but much more so to my newly acquired range of emotions. I’ve learned from my own reconstructed memories that my feminine self has always been this emotional, but I’m not yet used to it. It’s simple, really. I’m basically never in control of my emotions.

“Sometimes it’s just so hard..” I look up to the sky, sniffing the tears up my runny nose. “It’s just that.. I get stared at all the time, and I try to ignore it as much as I can, but then I gotta do some stupid basic shit like give my credit card in McDonald’s and the sight of a feet reaching over the counter freaks the cashier out and then…”

“Shush, now. It’s okay.”

“Angie, I often wish…”

My words slip out of my mouth without consent and my mind drifts off to that night with Mike. More like my night with was-Sydney. I keep thinking back about how perfect she looked, what a confident girl she was even through her handicap, and also how she tricked me so heartlessly. Transferring this… curse of hers onto me. The first few weeks felt like I was living in a dream. Everything felt fun and new : learning to do everything again, adjusting to my day-to-day life, testing people’s reactions and perceptions. But now, reality’s cold hard truth has surfaced, and all the hurdles have been raised.

“Wish what, Syd?

I let the silence hold. “Can I.. Can I tell you…”

Most everyday chores have become hell on earth for me. I need to sit on a stool to clean the dishes. I can’t carry anything bigger than the size of an apple. I use an old skateboard to roll stuff around the apartment when I’m tidying up. I continued going to Starbucks a few times but if asking the barista to come take the reusable coffee mug in my bag himself wasn’t embarrassing enough, mispreparing and not having my credit card in toes-reach was even more catastrophic. I’ll never forget when I leaned over a man’s open hands to bite a card out of my purse and hmmmfffd it to him. Asking for help always makes me feel vulnerable. Although he never looked annoyed. He was kind, even. Kept saying his job was to make sure I was happy. And the way his smile just…

“Earth calling Sydney, is Sydney online?”

I sigh. “Yeah… I’m still not over that guy at the…”

Warmed my heart. Like he poured an entire cup of hot chocolate right into my stomach. The rough shape of his jawline, the few-days old beard, the subtle yet defined muscles in his back, shifting as he brews and stirs… I shake my head to try and chase the thought. That part of the transition hasn’t completed properly, I feel. I’m still attracted to women, which makes living in this body at least a little fun, But then... Some guys in my class only have to look me in the eyes for a second and… God... I’d rather melt in a puddle on the spot than have to process such a flurry of emotions in front of other people.

“Stop that! I’ve told you before!” Aiming at my boob, she flicked her hand towards me to get my attention, barely missing it as I tilted away from her.

“Then stop daydreaming and finish your sentences for once!” She puts her hand on my thigh, and in my brain, I can feel it with as much detail as if she had just grabbed my hand. “We’ll get our money back and go spend it elsewhere, don’t let this guy ruin your day.”

“It’s not about the ride, silly.” I try to sneak a hit on her myself, but she easily blocks my ascending leg. “I don’t know, I’ve thought about my lack of arms a lot in the last few months.”

“What do you mean?” She replies as she stares down a woman ogling me.

“About pretty much everything. What happened to me when mom was pregnant? How did having stumps shape my life differently than what it could’ve been? Do guys think I’m pretty, or a freak? Are the people helping me out of pity, obligation, or kindness? Maybe I’m overthinking this…” I sigh, pondering. Maybe she’d believe me... “Remember my one-time guy, Mike?”

“Yeah, of course... Why?”

“He… We...” The words seem stuck in my throat. “I don’t know how to say it…” It’s like there’s an entire cat shedding inside my voice box. I cough, away from Angie. “What happened is….”

I swear my lips just clicked closed. For the life of me, no matter how hard I order my jaw to open, they’ve been sealed shut. It’s like my mouth has become completely paralyzed.

“What’s happening?!” These words tumble out of my mouth like water from a tap.

“Syd did…. Did Mike hurt you?” She retracts her hand instinctively, but immediately sets it back on my thigh.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that, it didn’t exactly hurt but we….”

Again. I swear on my only two limbs that somehow, somefuck, the spell is preventing me from telling her about it. My tongue has gone numb and my brain has forgotten how to say the next few words.

“What I’m trying to say is that…” This time, it physically hurts. It’s like somebody’s holding a flame at the base of my skull. I let out a yelp and Angie closes the distance between us again.

“Sydney, clearly something went wrong that night! Holy shit look at you!”

“It’s nothing really…” I take a deep breath and let the burning sensation fade away. When it’s completely vanished, the simple thought of telling her wakes it up like a lurking beast. “We had a… great time together.” Fuck you, selective brain. Seems like I now have parental control overseeing my speech.

“What aren’t you telling me?!” Angie says, insulted. “Is there really something I can’t take? All I want is to help you!”

I’m gonna have to lie to save my ass. “After we had sex, I thought about all the terrible things he could have done to me.” I agitate my shoulders in all of the few possible directions I can do so. “I couldn’t have pushed him back if I wanted to, Angie. I felt so… vulnerable.”

“How was it different from before? Did you not feel the same way when doing it with Jeremy?”

At the mention of this name, the park around me seems to slow down dramatically. Then, the rides, the cacophony, the people walking past us, all of it comes to a complete stop. My eyes turn to face the inside of my skull just as I am bombarded with souvenirs. Sounds, emotions, places, and fragments of a memory being built. Out of nowhere, a face comes rushing towards me. Clean shaved, curly brown hair tumbling over his ears, a big prominent nose. My brain does a playback of our entire relationship in the span of what feels like a millisecond. Meeting in our French class, chatting and studying online together, our first kiss, and soon enough the first time we had sex.

While I’m only just learning this, I’m not even remotely surprised. The moment I see the event, it’s as if another piece of the puzzle has been placed in my reconstructed life. My stomach knots as I recall my rising anxiety that night. Then too, I was afraid of not being in control. But he was so sweet, so kind. The moment our bodies completed each other’s, all of that had melted away and never came back. Too bad he left me for… Actually I don’t know who he left me for...Do I?

As if my bowels were being sucked out of my abdomen through my navel, my vision vanishes in a flow of color and incomprehensible sounds. Before me, Angie is still waiting for an answer. For a girl that meant to tell a lie, I didn't expect to be neck deep in a new truth.

“Well for starters, I knew Jeremy. He was my boyfriend, I trusted him. Of course I was nervous, but that had probably nothing to do about it.” I rub my cheek against my favorite shoulder, the right one. I conducted a thorough experiment the other night, while naked in front of my bathroom mirror : I can lift it just a liiiiittle bit higher than the left one. “That night, Mike and I chatted for basically an hour before we did it.. I had no idea how he would react when he realised he has much more control over me than any other girl.”

Another short burst of images rush through my head, again recalling my night with Mike, with the exception that for the first time since it happened, our roles have switched in my memories. I, as Sydney, am waiting on the couch for him to show up, he’s the one getting me a new beer when I’ve finished mine. I remember strutting up to the bedroom with him on my tail... He opened the door for me and quickly followed through, generously grabbing my ass on the way in.

“Yeah, I get what you mean. I mean… I don’t get it get it, but you know..” She shrugs. “I get it.”

“Yeah, first times are weird. Did you have any one night stands?”

“Not really, although I only average dating for a few months so I’m not unfamiliar with having sex with a recently met stranger.”

“Well, Mike was my first stranger.”

The images are gone, but my other senses are still picking up strands of souvenirs. I can taste the denim of his pants and how my teeth clamped against the metallic zipper. Then comes the warm feeling of his dick laying on my tongue while his hands stroke my shoulders, slips my bra off of them, heroically hoists me up to throw me on the bed and and and......

I clear my throat loudly to repress the moan that almost made it out. That is more… intense than how I thought I remembered it. Luckily for me, Angie changes the subject and we decide to go back to her place rather than waste our day trying to get on any rides.

---------------------------

Sitting cross legged on Angie’s couch watching Netflix, she yells at me from her bedroom.

“I can’t hear you, Angie.” I say, untangling my legs to lower the volume.

“Come here, I’ve found something for you.”

“What do you mean, for me?”

I slalom between the furniture to escape the living room and take the first door to my left into her room. Sitting on her bed, she presents me with her phone.

“Read this.”

I sit beside her and grab it with my toes. It’s an ad on Marketplace. “What about it?”

“Reaaaaaad iiiiiiiiit.” She groans, folding her calves beneath her.

The ad is tagged under Hobbies, from a guy named Tristan.

 My name is Tristan and I am a devotee. My girlfriend and I are looking for women with amputation(s) with a desire to meet other people facing similar challenges as well as engage in sexual intercourse with us. No age limit, but you must be at least 18 years old. Message me in private for more details.

“What the…”

“What do you say?” She asks, biting her lip.

“What do I say to what?”

“Did you not read?”

“Of course, he couldn’t have been more direct but… I’m a little shocked, that’s all.” I read the brief description again. Short and to the point. “I’m not sure I’m ready to get involved with a devotee. My spam folder is already full, I don’t need him sharing my personal info with a bunch of his freak friends.”

“I dug a little bit deeper and think this could be an interesting one for you.”

“And why is that?”

“Well…” She lowers her eyes, toying with her fingers. “You told me you were having a harder time accepting yourself recently, and I thought maybe if you met someone who actually likes your missing parts it would… Um… You know.”

“Yeah but why this guy? Why not pick one of the freaks messaging me on Instagram everytime I upload a photo of me just existing?”

Her eyes dart back to her phone. “Nothing in particular..” I know that voice way too well, there’s something she doesn’t want me to know. “Hey, give it back!”

I pivot away from her and stretch my leg forward, still holding her phone, right as I tap on Tristan’s profile picture.

“Ohhh, okayyy. That makes much more sense, now.”

Now in fullscreen, he’s kissing what I can only guess is his girlfriend, who just happens to be a double above elbow amputee. Raised in vain as if to hold his cheeks, the stumps of her arms hover midway through the air, stretching mere inches from her shoulders.

“So he wants to get it on with two amputees at once?”

“That’s also what I think.” Angie replies.. “Oh shit she’s legless, too! I hadn’t noticed that though, I swear!”

I hand her her phone back after scrolling a bit through his profile to find her own. At the forefront, her latest Instagram pic featuring herself, sitting in the grassy backyard of a modest house wearing nothing but a bikini, holding a can of fruity beer between her stumps. From the holes in her bikini bottom, a pair of legs about the length of her arms poke through, again ending with two round stumps.

“I gotta admit. She’s…” Her black hair frozen in place, tousled by the invisible breeze, her top, hard at work holding her.. “Damn she’s…”

“Fucking hot! Woooow seriously! It’s almost unreal to be this pretty without a single limb.. Oh... no offense Syd.”

I shrug it off. “You’re kind of right, to be honest. Being in shape with missing limbs is hard. Look at these abs! The only other quad girl I’ve met could never plan a proper workout routine other than sit-ups and rollovers!”

These words escape my mouth before I can even think about them and in an instant I get another flashback : A nice wooded area, wheelchair-accessible cabins, group activities with teen amputees. Set on the floor near the campfire, Marissa sang and wriggled in rhythm with her own voice, her plump little body strangled on the warm sand. Then, comes to my mind a relay race with obstacles tailored against everyone’s handicap. While I had to unlock a door and undo a knot with my teeth, a simple log set on the ground proved to be a worthy opponent for her. I get sucked back in the present.

“I guess you’ll have to ask her yourself.” She winks at me.

----------------------------

“Come in! The door’s unlocked!” I thank the owner under my breath for installing a lever handle. I open the door using my knee and enter the apartment. “Tristan’s in the shower, he should be out in a bit.”

And there she is on the couch, watching Netflix, wearing a simple white crop top and shorts. I unbutton my sandals and pass the strap of my bag over my head as I try not to stare at her stumps so much. Although, that’s why I’m here to meet her... right?

“Come sit with me.” She quickly tumbles to the side to make room for me, gesturing vaguely with a stump, her eyes still glued to the screen.

I diligently sit next to her, looking around the room. White walls. Plants hanging in the sunlight near the windows. To my left, a poster of her, naked, drenched in water, lit from behind like a scene taken directly from Flashdance. Uncomfortable, I cross my right leg over my leg and beat a silent rhythm. After a minute or two, her show comes to an end and I come back into existence.

“Okay, sorry about that. You know how binge watching can get sometimes…” She leans over to the remote to turn off the TV with a stump, of course, then scoots towards me. “Hi! I’m Alex, nice to meet you!”

“And I’m Sydney.” From where it’s already elevated, I close the distance between my feet and her right arm. Usually, I’m my new life, the other person would be the one to shake my foot, but I have to guess she’s thinking the same thing. Suspended near her stump, my foot hesitates. A forced laugh cracks a smile on my face. “I’m sorry, I’m really nervous.”

“Please, don’t be.” Her jet-black hair is held back in a tight ponytail she couldn’t possibly have tied herself. "We have more in common than most people, don't you think?”

Our skin finally touch and we shake, both giggling at the absurdity of the tradition. Then, silence lingers for a minute.

“So umm…..” I twirl my own hair around my toes. “How did you and Tristan meet?”

“We met at work.”

“Oh, great. Was it an office romance like in the movies?”

“Oh no, not like that. He was a... a client of mine.” Her eyes trail off for a few seconds and she absently rubs her stumps together, her muscular shoulder driving the entirety of the movement. “We hit it off quite quite well the first time around and after several other more personal visits we started dating. That was six months ago.”

Was I already transformed six months ago? It’s hard for me to forget that date, but at that moment in time, I’m too focused by the absurdity of our duo to be able to remember.

“And what do you do?”

“I danced in a strip club.”

A brief flurry of sounds escape my mouth before I can order my brain to shut my stupid lips shut. My eyes go back to the poster and she giggles, turning towards it herself. “I… I.. I’m sorry, to be honest it was the last thing I was expecting to hear.”

“It’s okay, really. I’m not dumb, I know who I am. But that doesn’t always stop me from doing what I want. Water?”

“Sure, why not. Want some help?”

“Sure, why not.” She replies with a wink so terrifyingly smooth it makes my hair stand on their ends.

She turns around before laying flat on her stomach and hugs the couch as she lets herself slip until her legs touch the floor. Pushing down on the wooden floor alternatively with her legs, she walks up to the kitchen with me and reaches for sippy cups in a low cupboard, setting them on the floor beside her. Then, she unscrews the tops using her chin and walks up to the water dispenser to place the first one. I gracefully lift my left foot to fill it while she travels back to get the second one.

“Hey, we make a pretty good team!” I say sarcastically.

She chuckles, the second cup secured between her arms. “We should start a band and call ourselves Missing Pieces.” When my cup is full, I sit beside her to screw the lid back on and stick the handle in-between my toes. “The sippy cups were one of my ex’s ideas. He grew tired of wiping the little messes I kept leaving around the apartment.”

“Sounds like a jerk.”

“Yeah, he kind of was, actually. I have a history of toxic relationships, so he wasn’t the first one to treat me this way.”

As I take a swig of cold water, we take another good look at each other, only shamelessly this time. At the other end of the apartement, the sound of Tristan’s shower comes to an end with a loud thump.

“That’s our signal.” She says, setting her empty cup beside her. “Are you still in?”

“I…. I think so.” I answer without much conviction.

“Good. Then follow me.”

-------------------------------

“Give us a few minutes to set the tone, then I’ll call for you, alright?” He leans forward and lands a kiss on her lips.

“Sure, see you soon.”

As he closed the door behind him, I could feel part of my stress boiling away, while another one, a different one, made its way inside me. Tristan being a guy, it made me more nervous than I had imagined. It’s going to be my first time since I’ve… transformed and… well I’m terrified to say the least.

“Okay, first things first. We need to get this tension out of your body before we can start.”

“Tension? What tension?”

“Just because you’re armless doesn’t mean I can’t see how tense those shoulders are, you know that?” I take a deep breath and roll them forward and back, trying to regain control of my body. “It’s okay to be nervous, sweetheart.”

“How can you tell?” I ask her quietly.

“Sydney, I have been a stripper for many years, the look on your face is the same look I get from young boys hitting the strip club for the first time. It’s like you’re a deer in front of headlights.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry it’s just that…” I rub my eyes hard and run my toes through my hair. “I’m very self-conscious about my body and it’s stressing me out.”

“And you think I’m not? I started taking my clothes off as a way to fight my own insecurities; by flaunting it into their faces to try to convince me it didn’t affect my confidence. But it did, and still does. Only a little less.”

“Really?” She reaches for my foot and I let her secure it between her arms.

“Of course.” She gently runs a stump up and down my shin. “Why do you think I train so much? Why do you think I got these implants? It’s all just a gimmick to try and give me more and more confidence, when the only solution is acceptance of who you really are.”

The positivity of her point of view in contrast with the state of her anatomy suddenly saddens me and tears start rolling down my cheeks. “I’m so sorry, I’m here whining about my missing arms to a girl without limbs at all, I’m so embarrassed…”

“Hey hey hey hey… shush shush shushhhhh.” Her right stump is on my lips. “You don’t have to be ashamed. The fact that I have problems of my own doesn't make yours disappear, does it?” I shake my head. “Good. Now, look at us, right?

She raises her stumps and joins them above her breasts, folds in half on the bed and boosts herself backwards to land on her stubby legs. Waddling backwards ever slightly, her shorts eventually slip out from under her, revealing more of her amazingly shaped body, as well as a pair of thin black panties. Then, she skillfully loops a stump from underneath her top into the collar and flicks it beside her. She opens her arms wide.

“This is the whole me. No arms. No legs. But I’m also a woman, and I know my handicap doesn’t stop me from being sexy nonetheless. Now who are you?”

Her little line leaves me speechless. Frozen in place, I’m not sure what to do or what to reply. Then she makes her way towards me, one rotation after the other, and sticks her arms in the straps of my summer dress, pushing them to the side. With her help, the dress quickly crumples around my hips to reveal my smooth shoulders. She touches them and gauges their shape, both curiously and sensually. After a moment, she starts kissing them softly, moving up my neck with every kiss, her soft lips brushing against my skin.

She whispers into my ear, her voice so sweet, so rich, I could let myself drown in it. “Let me see the real you, Sydney. With our combined differences, let us pretend that this state of ours is nothing more than a new normality.”

I stand beside the bed and rock my hips from side to side, causing my dress to drop at my feet. Alex cranes her neck to bite down on my tight lycra shorts and it quickly joins the dress on the wooden floor. She gestures to come close once again, tapping the mattress, inciting me to lay down beside her. Lying flat on my back, she smoothly climbs on my stomach, moving around much like a wild animal, her rounded stumps not even an obstacle to what she has in mind. Sitting on top of me, she freezes for a second, chuckling and biting her lip.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“Nothing..” Her stumps are joined once again as she allows her thoughts to simmer in her mind. “It’s just that I’ve never really tried anything serious with another amputee before. At my old job all the girls were missing bits and pieces, some more than others”, another wink tightens the knot already well-formed in my stomach, “but nothing apart from some kissing on stage every now and then.

“Well I haven’t had anything either since…” In the back of my brain, I can feel the warm embers of the spell stirring. “...a while.”

“Let us begin slowly, then.”

She arches forward, delicately setting her left stump near my breast. Strangely, I feel my tightened guts loosen slightly, but I still feel paralyzed by stress. First caressing my side with her other arm, she relaxes her shoulders, allowing her nose to run across my belly. A shiver traverses me from head to toes, agitating my shoulders against my will, relaxing the tensed muscles in my thighs and calves, smoothing out the strain in my cramped toes. Again, she joins her lips to cover my skin in tender kisses, gradually making her way past my navel down to my laced panties. I had finally gathered the courage to go shopping for my new self only a few days ago, buying these with the help of a surprisingly attentionate and compassionate teen girl. Without her help, I never could’ve tried on most of the things I ended up purchasing.

The contact of her teeth against my skin is minimal, calculated. As my ass rises up, the panties slide down. Solely using my abs, I sit up in the bed and return the favor as she stands on her legs. Then, faster than I could’ve imagined, she travels back up and lands a kiss on my lips. Soft, but confident. She detaches herself for a bit as we look each other in the eyes and she goes back in, only with more vigor than before and with my own grain of salt added. I wrap my legs around her body and press us together like a disabled panini.

In a flurry of imprecise and elaborate maneuvers, we remove what little we had left covering our skin and drench ourselves in the other’s body. Feeling, caressing, pressing, nibbling, rubbing.. Her ponytail soon becomes such a mess that I undo it for her, sending her dark hair cascading over her shoulders, partially hiding her arms. Leaning against a pillow, I sit back in the bed to take a breather. Alex, on the other hand, continues the attack. Moving on all fours, she retreats to the end of the bed only to slowly make her way back, her eyes locked on my genitals, now at the perfect height for her.

When her tongue touches my clit, the whole room disintegrates. I can no longer feel the sheets under my feet, even though my toes have dug deep in them. With each hit of her tongue, a wisp of air escapes my lips, shaking my breath and bouncing my breasts. Halfway up, on its way up to fix my hair, my right leg quivers and freezes, unresponsive to my commands. I manage to set it on Alex’s head, intensifying my sensations and covering my skin with a thin layer of sweat. Rubbing my cheeks against my shrugged shoulders, I try to calm my shaking limbs as best as I can. I press Alex’ head between my thighs and throw my head back, my eyes sealed shut, my gaping mouth looking for a sound to scream.

A warm hand slides up my side to find my breast. It’s Tristan’s, of course. His eyes flutter in delight, his brain in an inconceivable state of adoration. I squirm, still on my back, almost unable to take it all at once, as he squeezes my breast and shoves his tongue between my lips. I kiss him back, furiously, craning my neck and forcing my face against his. In-between kisses, he and Alex exchange a few words, incomprehensible to me, and she moves away from my junk. Almost simultaneously, Tristan detaches himself, only to get a better angle on my anatomy. Reaching for my ass, he lifts it up and thrusts his……

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my gooooooOOOOOOooooooooooooodd……..” I squeal like the rusty hinges on a barn door, just about to break in half.

I didn’t remember sex being so……. Hnnggg holy fucking Jesus Christ, it’s like all my previous intercourses have lost meaning, this...

“Still have some juice left in for me?” Alex whispers in my ear, tickling me with her tongue. Lying on her side at my left, she extends her left arm but her stump barely even brushes against my skin. I find nothing to answer. “I’ll take that as a yes, then.”

With Tristan’s hand behind my neck, I let him manhandle me around the bed, turning me around and shoving my face in the pillows. My head turned to the side, I see Alex, laying on her back, worming her way sideways, pushing against me with her hips and her breasts. Contracting my abs, I lift myself a few inches and allow her to rest beneath me, her short blunt arms to her sides. When Tristan penetrates me again, I let out a loud moan and fall right on Alex’ tits. As he pounds me from behind, our faces move to and fro, our nose almost in contact . Shrugging my shoulders, I land another kiss on her lips.

If I had been born with arms, I could’ve fingered her at the same time, but I think that would have ruined the whole experience. For once in my life my handicap doesn't seem to bother anyone, and I’m not ready to let that go for anything in the world. I’m not even sure I would know how to use arms, anyway.