Dusty’s out of body lesbian experience.

The shower kiosks were comprised of tiny one-person-sized cubicles with sliding glass doors to conceal the occupants. The glass was thick, and the reflections were distorted, so much so that one could only see a large blur of the body within the steamy cubical. While the distorted glass was going to make Dusty’s search a little more complicated than it needed to be, she felt that she would have little trouble finding her sibling. As her twin, they had roughly the same build, hair, and skin tone unless the serum had a completely different effect on Dalila’s body.

Dusty worked her way through the thick cloud of steam and the swarms of squealing naked girls, peeking into every closed stall she could find. While Dusty was slightly afraid that she might get some sour looks from the other girls, no one seemed to care that she was staring into stalls and spending an almost uncomfortable amount of time studying the smudged forms in the glass.

“Too thin. Too tall. Too dark. Too white.”

The showers were more numerous than she thought. She counted at least twenty stalls in a single corridor, and upon reaching the end of the first aisle, she found five more rows of stalls. She sighed, admitting to herself that she shouldn’t have been surprised by the size of the showers. They were built to warm up a small colony, after all. She had just finished making her way down the second corridor, with little luck in finding her sister, when she spotted a blur that matched her color and proportions in the first kiosk in the third corridor.

She stepped closer to the stall and narrowed her eyes. She looked like Dalila, but the way she moved was off. It was too slow, almost seductive in its movements like a snake trying to hypnotize its prey or—

Dusty’s eyes grew wide, and her cheeks turned a bright crimson as a second shape appeared in the stall. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, to add form to the smudged silhouettes in the glass, and when they did, her heart began to pulse so violently that it felt like it was about to leap out of her chest.

The first woman was a fair-skinned blonde, though clearly not her sister; her face was too broad. The second had a darker skin tone, which contrasted just enough with the other woman’s pale skin to give the young pilot a general idea of what they were up to.

“Oh, Jess,” the first girl gasped between the obvious sounds of kissing, her aroused breaths tickling the depth of Dusty’s ears.

“Gloria,” the second mewed, her soft voice dripping with a perfect mixture of lust and affection that sent a pleasant shiver down Dusty’s spine.

She recognized the two names. Jessica Cox and Gloria Andrews, though Dusty knew them by their call signs, Jack Rabbit and Angel Dust. While Jack and Angel were incredibly close friends, Dusty was reasonably sure that they weren’t lesbians. Then again, she had been wrong before. “Perhaps they were just really good at hiding their relationship,” she thought as she watched the pair kiss and cuddle.

The young blonde pressed her teeth against her lower lip and squished her thighs together so tightly that it would have suffocated an ant. She could feel her body heat rising, her pink nipples perking, and her virgin flower swelling. Her eyes glazed over as her mind wandered into the stall with the girls. She could see herself pressed between them, their soft breasts brushing against her toned curves as the warm shower water caressed their naked bodies. She could feel their lips against her neck, their nails scratching her hips, and their thighs grinding against her burning flower petals. She let out an involuntary gasp as the juices from a micro-orgasm trickled down her inner thigh. The small climax was just strong enough to restore a small amount of the dazed girl’s senses.

“Wha—” she panted with her eyes still half rolled into her lids, “What am I—”

The sound of two giggling girls turning the corner pulled Dusty from her trance. She whirled around and pointed herself toward an open stall as the pair walked past, unaware of the lesbian couple in the stall next to them or the aroused blonde trying to hide her stiff nipples under her arms. The pink bulbs were so hard she felt like a pair of tiny needles were pressing into her flesh.

“What the fuck is wrong with me,” Dusty asked herself quietly as she tried to calm herself down.

She brushed her hand against her neck and was a little surprised to find that she could still feel the girl's lips on her skin. She knew that she had an active imagination, but she never actually felt anything afterward. It was an odd sensation; it was as if she was being kissed by phantom lips. She couldn’t feel the skin of whoever kissed her or any traces that she had physically been kissed, but she could still feel the tingle of someone’s warm breath on her skin, traces of warm water against her flesh, and the soft bite of nails on her thighs.

She shook her arousal from her mind and started back down the corridor in search of her twin. It was safe to say that she was fully warmed up for her cryosleep, but she wanted to find Dalila all the same, if anything, to see what changes she went through.