It was a good spell, cast by my handsome warlock friend. He'd built up his powers by practice and exercise, and now the whole town was four-legged. It was all young, very tall, beautifully muscled guys, guys with four fabulous legs.

We were on a tour of the newly four-legged town; I with my own four wonderful legs comfortably straddling Damien's handsome boytaur hindquarters, my four inner thighs enjoying the gently undulating musculature of his quadruple glutes, my four calves loving to be brushed by the warm, pleasant touch of his four legs as he walked them beneath me. My four dangling naked feet rejoiced in the occasional rough familiarity of Damien's four calves and shins as his own handsome foursome of large, beautiful male feet made their beautiful way along the sidewalks and lawns of the college town.

"Were there that many students here before?" I asked, smelling the sweetness of his chestnut hair as I held his muscular torso in the relaxed drape of my arms.

"I don't know," he said, the humor in his reply saying otherwise.

It was a warm Saturday night, with guys out together all over town, arm in arm, their handsome boyish faces reflecting each others' love, seemingly oblivious to the towering physiques below their long, powerful necks. They moved and gently swayed together as they walked their long foursomes of muscular legs, as graceful as gazelles on their four long legs and their four beautiful bare feet.

I gradually realized that the tall, four-legged male bodies decorating the evening and filling the panorama were beautifully nude; I was nude as my four legs straddled the gently undulating four legs of Damien's nude boytaur hindquarters. Funny, I hadn't noticed it; it was so natural, just like the four legs of the tall college boys who walked together arm in arm.

"Are there a lot of twins in this town?" I asked Damien. I seemed to be noticing a high incidence of handsome four-legged guys who not only closely held each other as they walked their four long legs, but closely resembled each other as well, in every aspect of their statuesque nude muscular bodies, from their beautiful faces to their broad, muscular chests to the smooth concave sculpture of their abs and waists to the swell of their muscular hips and the gentle amble of their four long-muscled, beautifully sculpted legs.

"I don't know; are there?" Damien asked me back, with that same teasing deep musical lilt. I loved that lilt of his; how it contrasted with the powerful beauty of his massively muscled male stallion's body, the glistening boytaur body whose four powerful, gentle legs I rode. I loved being four-legged, riding another four-legged male. I kissed his neck and squeezed the powerful, beautiful male torso in my own long-muscled arms; his arms caught mine and pressed them against his beautiful chest, and for some moments we seemed to float together in a kiss, our four-legged bodies gliding along by themselves among the handsome crowd of four-legged nude male couples as we closed our eyes, lost in each others' lips.

Here and there, the river of tall nude four-legged boytaur couples would gently bump and nudge past the occasional mating pairs, locked in kisses very much like Damien's and mine, their sweating muscles shining as their four legs gently made ways for them to mount and mate. Where the mating was most intense, the beautiful river of tall male boytaurs moved at a standstill or a stumbling crawl, warm with the tang of love and harmonious with the gentle wordless voices of beautiful male boytaurs in love.

I realized I was mating with Damien, warm on all sides from the sweating beauty of tall mating boytaur couples all around us; how long had I been lost in him, exploding inside him, my huge frontal and hind genitalia finding and filling him? He groaned, his beautiful lips parted and then united with mine, his body a tower of beautiful male love, mine. Boytaurs all around us were kissing each other thankfully, dazed at the explosions of endless come, some still coming.

I saw another immensely handsome boytaur couple mating a ways off, through the throng of glistening naked four-legged guys. They had just mated and were unmounting and were about to remount in switched positions in order to mate some more; in addition to the huge swaying genitalia dangling from their frontal and hind legs, I noticed their lips upon each other's huge hands—no, feet—from their long-muscled arms, their wrists were hung with large, handsome male feet.

They were oddly beautiful like that; I could tell Damien could feel my huge penises swelling again even from between my four-legged body and his as I rode him; his penises swelled and dangled anew as well.

Then my penises knew no limit to their size—they shot to full lengths, rock hard—the awesome wristfooted boytaur couple were Damien and I! By chance, the beautiful herds of four legged guys parted long enough for the wristfooted boytaur couple to notice us.

"Are they us?" I asked, hardly daring to believe how beautiful they were.

"Shouldn't we check?" Damien asked, his eye catching mine with that humor I loved. We were already greeting them—both Damiens shot their loads as they kissed, and my twin and I shot ours as I kissed my twin's huge, beautiful wristfeet, holding them warm, heavy and sweet in my hands beneath my lips.