Tom smiled his teasing, knowing smile, as he sat naked the bed with his legs tucked under him.

"What?" I asked, interested. He was beautiful and he knew it, and loved to flirt. He loved to be outrageous—and he was sexy enough that he could get away with anything.

"I'm thinking of becoming a centaur," he said. "Imagine how cool I'd be with a stallion's huge body and with four legs."

"No way," I replied, "you'd have hooves, and that means you'd have to live without your beautiful feet." That struck a nerve, because while Tom was beautiful as a dancer, his feet were his pride and joy. They were a little too large, but muscular and graceful, and he left them bare whenever he could.

"What if I kept my feet?" he smiled. "I could have four of them, two in the back and two in the front. I'd kinda like that!"

"You could try," I said. "But that's a lot of work just for four feet. Why not just be four-legged but human? You could still fit in the room. And you wouldnt have to drink the whole bottle of transformation juice."

He eyed the bottle that his beautiful hands had been turning over restlessly. "I do like my legs," he said thoughtfully."It would be nice to have four of them, and I'd still have my own feet plus two more. I could go for that."

"I'd like that too," I said, feeling aroused at the thought of Tom with four feet. His feet were so beautiful—they were big and warm and handsomely shaped. Four of them would be awesome! My mind pleasantly reeled trying to imagine him nakedly relaxing on four of his beautiful legs.

He glowed as he looked at me with affection -- he was turned on, too. "You like my feet, don't you," he said.

Yes, I nodded, blushing.

"I think four legs is as far as I would want to go," he said, "but if you'd like, I could try changing my hands to feet as well, so you'd have more feet to enjoy."

"Ohhhh," I said, involuntarily. The images flashed in my mind, Tom's sleeves rolled halfway back on his smoothly muscled forearms, big and beautiful feet hanging heavily from his strong wrists. If I held his hands, I would be holding his big, sexy male feet. I could kiss them, he could place them on my shoulders lazily as we talked, he might hold a handsome big toe to his lips as he shushed me before sharing a confidence. I could picture them slapping on a steering wheel as he drove, or hanging languidly out the car door as he sat cursing the traffic on a hot day.

"Look!" he said, wiping his lips as he capped the bottle. Looking up from my reverie, I was stunned and my hardon became huge. The bottle fell with a plop onto the bed, and it was a foot that wiped his lips—nice! A great, big good-looking foot, just like his others—his five others!

"My god!" he said, laughing, aroused, trying to untangle the four legs and the big feet that got in each others' way. We both laughed—it was funny as he was on his hands and knees, only the hands were feet! It was easier for him that way, and the big front feet dug into the bed as they faithfully steadied him. He rolled over onto his broad back, laughing, holding the feet up appraisingly and rubbing them together, while the four legs felt among themselves for comfortable positions.

"Wow, you are awesome!" I said. I meant it, too.

He was getting really hard, a huge hardon between each pair of legs. "I'm so horny!" he said, and I climbed over him and kissed him full on his beautiful, aroused lips. There they were, on my burning cheeks, his huge, sweet feet as he framed my face with them, gentle on my face as I kissed him.

"Can you finish the bottle?" he said to me. "I want you this way, too." I felt the urgency of his double erections as they prodded higher and higher on my waist as I lay on him.

"You got it!" I replied.