Shapeshifting Sex

"Hey Amy, I got a few new ideas."

"Yeah?" Said Amitiel, too comfortable with Abbadon's lips between the cups of her bra to listen.

"Yeah. I've been practicing on a few new choice forms and I think you're gonna like it. Though one can't beat the classics."

Amitiel broke from her stupor, knowing what she was saying.

Both angels and demons are polymorphic races, meaning their forms are malleable and they can be pretty much everything, though they tend to go about the process quit differently.

Angels saw their bodies under technical terms. Their essence were beyond physical parameters and the bodies they cloaked it in were just an empty shell of LEGOS-blocks that could be taken apart and reassembled. An angel would have two arms and two legs and a head, and in a flash they were a bird or a bicycle or something with a dozen heads. Shapeshifting was a work-tool, as some lesser species responded better when they interacted with someone that looked like them.

Demons however took to shapeshifting like one took to cooking or performance art. Or more accurately, it was like watching a caterpillar metamorphose into a butterfly without its cocoon. Amitiel was horrified when she saw a demon shapeshift for the first time, hearing bones crack and mend into new shapes, or extra limbs rupture out of torn orifices, or new pigments stain themselves over their skin. But like with everything in Hell, she was quick to adapt and now she barely batted an eye whenever it happened.

And now that Amitiel had a sex-life, she also realized that with new bodies came new sensations.