She was fucking and sucking, sucking and fucking. Her mouth was so sensitive that maybe it was really a vagina, and perhaps her tongue had become a clitoris. Her pussy was so hungry that it was essentially a mouth, not so much sucking cock as eating cum. In and out she sucked and up and down her body rode him, his huge cock driving in so deep...

Except that now her lover was a woman, a woman whose tongue flicked at her clitoris with the sensitivity of a snake, sending jolt after jolt of electricity through her entire body. Cindy could barely stand the intensity of the feelings — she never wanted them to stop yet at the same time she had to kiss her lover on the mouth, she just had to. Her lover intuitively understood her need, slowly meandering her mouth up Cindy's torso, taking a detour when it reached her breasts, so full, so achingly engorged, her nipples feeling harder than the metal in her nipple rings. Finally the mouth met her own. She thrust her tongue in, tasted her own juices inside, then drove her tongue in deep. It probed, sensed, transmitted so much information about her lover that Cindy almost felt like she could exchange places, that she knew enough about the other woman to become the other woman. No difference, my sex and her sex, hot lesbian melding, merging, converging...

Just as she felt that she was two almost identical women occupying the same body, her lover changed again, became a man that she was somehow sucking and fucking all at the same time. Her mouth lapped and bobbed, her hips thrust up and down, devouring his cock, and she could only think that all sex should be like this, all sex should be a complete merging with a lover who kept shifting, kept exceeding all expectations, kept her guessing, kept her insides on fire, kept her wanting more and more...

But she kept bumping her head for some reason as she fucked h/er/im, her head cracking against some sort of low ceiling. Her brain throbbed, how many times had she hit her head? Still, despite the pain, she kept at it, kept sucking, kept fucking...

She opened her eyes, instantly awake and aware that the pounding in her head was real. Her body was stiff, too, she'd slept in a funny position, her limbs all discombobulated. Sweeping her eyes around, she saw rain-spotted windows, seats with headrests...

Oh fuck, she remembered. She turned her head and there was Lance, his mouth wide open, looking more passed-out than asleep. Ohgod, what had she done? She'd seduced her boyfriend's best friend in the back seat of a car, blowing him and riding his dick right in the middle of Manhattan, that's what she'd done!

She adjusted her position on top of Lance and more or less slid because of the sweat between their bodies.

Pussy lubrication, body perspiration, they're the liquid sensation that's sweeping the nation...

Their body-heat and perspiration were useful, though, because the windows had become fogged on the inside, providing some degree of privacy. Beyond that wet haze it looked like it was still dark and quiet in the city, so quiet that it must be something like four or five in the morning.

And no longer raining. She raised herself up and her head pounded harder. Squinting against the pain, she searched for her clothes, found her soaked orange shorts and her tiny yellow top. Where was her bra? She rummaged under the seats, felt behind Lance's back... And then remembered. She'd ditched her bra. As far as she knew it was still dangling from a tree limb on Eighth Street.

God, what had gotten into her last night? She felt like she was waking up with a terrible hangover after a night of heavy drinking, a night of unprecedented wanton debauchery. But she'd only consumed two glasses of wine!

Unless she'd started drinking in that bar. "Oh crap," she groaned, remembering how she had gone into some sort of dancing sex frenzy. She must have been drinking, why else would she go so insane? And what else would she have done if Lance hadn't dragged her out of there?

That was the way it had happened, wasn't it? She shook her head to clear the cobwebs and regretted it. Her head hurt, it really hurt. She awkwardly wiggled her ass into her shorts and pulled on her wrinkled top, then blindly rummaged around on the car floor and grabbed her boots. She opened the driver's side door and dangled her legs outside, slipping the stylish footwear over her feet.

Standing up on the curb she realized that her pussy was sore, like she'd been fucking for hours, like she'd fucked herself raw. The crotch of her shorts rubbed against her vagina and it made her heart flutter with a momentary sexual buzz, but it also stung.

"Ouch!"

She needed to get back home, but what about Lance? She thought about shaking him but decided against it. She didn't want to face him anyway, she'd have to explain herself, explain last night's behavior, and how could she do that? She didn't know what had gotten into her, she really didn't.

The streets were wet and filled with puddles but also mercifully empty as she made her way back home. Every now and then a cab would pass, and they honked, probably commenting on her state of undress. She could feel that her hair was going everywhere and imagined that she must look like a high-priced hooker returning home after getting raped and pillaged out on the street. That's what she felt like, too, except she kept thinking that she had been the one doing most of the raping and pillaging.

What had she done? Dressed like a whore, flirted with half the city, dirty-danced with a gaggle of strangers and fucked Lance, that's what she'd done. She had fucked Michael's best friend after lying about breaking up. And Sara, Lance's girlfriend... Sara wasn't a close friend but she was a friend. Correction — used to be a friend. Maybe Lance would keep quiet about what had happened but she doubted it. He had knowingly betrayed his girlfriend, but when he found out that she'd lied about Michael...

Depressing thoughts and they weren't helping her headache. She held her head in her hands the last block home, then had to lean against the elevator walls the ten floors up. Mystic greeted her enthusiastically when she entered her door and she picked him up, placing his purring body against the side of her face. His warmth and vibrating softness soothed the pounding, but what she really needed was some aspirin. And some food, she was so fucking hungry!

Wait. Fucking hungry... Fucking hunger? She remembered the words from last night's creepy poem. Fucking hunger. Not exactly like fucking hungry — more like a hunger for fucking. Just like last night.

What else had there been in the poem? Lightning and thunder, heat, a predator, fucking hunger, something about feeling naughty and dancing in a bar.

"That's weird," she whispered to Mystic.

Some things had been just like that — the thunderstorm, feeling hot and being hungry to fuck, even being naughty. And definitely dancing in the bar.

"That's weird," she repeated.

She wasn't remembering the entire poem, but there were so many things about last night that mirrored MagicThunder's words. No predators out there, though, Lance was far from being a predator.

She wondered whether Lance had awakened in his car yet. She wondered whether she had broken his dick, blowing and fucking it the way she had. She wondered what she would say to him if he called her later in the day.

She also wondered how MagicThunder could have predicted thunderstorms in her area when s/he shouldn't even know what her area was. And the other details, too much coincidence, way too much to even be a coincidence. Something wasn't right here, in fact everything seemed terribly wrong. Alarm bells were going off in her brain but they just made her head hurt more, they exacerbated her headache and made it even harder to think straight.

Fucking hunger, dancing blindly, the storm and the rain, the thunder and lightning... She felt like she was awakening from some sort of weird poetry-driven nightmare, except that even when awake the nightmare was still there, still present.

"It's almost like... mind-control," she told her cat.

But there was no such thing, not in real life.

"It can't happen," she informed Mystic, who looked doubtful. "I mean, it's impossible. To think that a poem, that words... it's absurd. I mean... Fuck, I don't know what I mean. I can't think straight over this headache."

She shut her eyes and rubbed at her temples, then blinked a few times. Things weren't spinning, but her thoughts were. They were dark and kind of frightening and they hurt.

"I'm not feeling very good. My head is aching, my will is breaking... I mean... Oh hell, what do I mean? I'm bad... I mean, I feel bad. I think I'd better go to bed."

She took two aspirin with orange juice, then peeled a banana for her fucking hunger. Before biting into it, she slipped several inches into her mouth and her tongue measured it, darting, sensing. In her bedroom she threw her wet clothes in the hamper and collapsed, naked, onto her bed, her head throbbing. Everything throbbed, her mouth, her pussy, and they kept on throbbing, even in her troubled dreams.

Awareness came from the inside-out. Something was moving around inside of her, her pussy was active and her tits ached so good. She opened her eyes, felt her fingers strumming chords inside of her vagina.

Ohgod, yes, she was sooo horny. Her fingers were all wet and her nipples were hard and red, like she'd been finger-fucking herself and feeling up her tits the whole time she was asleep. Fingers enter, they are creeping, playing with me while I'm sleeping, juices flow so lubricating, feel so hot when masturbating...

She got out of bed somewhat reluctantly, stretched and admired her body in the dresser mirror. Wow. Smooth as glass, what a sexy piece of ass... No wonder she couldn't resist playing with herself, even when she was unconscious.

The dresser clock surprised her — it was almost twelve-thirty in the afternoon, she'd slept half the day away. Thank God it was Saturday and she had no commitments, no particular things she had to do other than a long swim in the late afternoon or evening.

She padded naked to the great room and surveyed the weather through closed windows. It was obviously a scorcher out there. People were dressed for extreme summer heat and through the thick white haze she thought she could make out heavy clouds already gathering in the distance.

More thunderstorms today.

Something about that thought drove a shard of panic through her heart. Why? Why be afraid of...

Last night's psycho-poem, that's why. "Magic thunder, flash of light, fucking hunger fills the night..." Just like... No, it couldn't be. Still, something told her that she'd better re-read every single word of that crazy poem. Maybe she hadn't taken the poem seriously enough last night, maybe she hadn't realized...

Realized what? She scratched her head, trying to remember. Her thoughts kept alternating between clarity and a strange fogginess. She wasn't quite sure what she hadn't realized, but it was important, and somewhere beyond her thoughts every instinct was screaming at her, demanding that she study the words in that poem.

But, fuck — she'd closed out her MCForum membership, the poem was probably lost! You idiot! Was there a way to retrieve that sort of thing?

She turned on her computer, her sense of panic increasing with every passing second. The fog was beginning to lift and memories of the previous night were opening in her brain one by one, and the images she saw in her head... Had she really done those things? Had she gone completely crazy last night? It was almost as if...

"Mail Truck!", her computer declared. She reflexively clicked her mail program, saw that she had one new message, clicked the receive button...

"Ohmygod!!!", she screamed. "How? How?"

A single message from MagicThunder that simply said, "Read me!" But... but she had never given her Earthlink address to MagicThunder! Never! How had s/he done this, how had s/he tracked her down?

She wouldn't open it. She would not play these games, would not...

"Fuck!", she yelled, because her hand was already double-clicking the message to open it up.

DISTANT THUNDER YOUR SEXIEST SKIRT WITH NO PANTIES UNDER SO SEXY IT HURTS

MAGNETIC LUST TRANSFERENCE OF HEAT HOT SEX FAIRY DUST AND A PULSING CLIT-BEAT

LIKE JECKLE AND HYDE YOU COME AND YOU GO A WILD MARKET RIDE A SEX RODEO

SELLING YOUR SOUL TONGUE FURTHER SKILLED COUNT EVERY HOLE THEY ALL MUST BE FILLED

She lay naked on the floor of her apartment's great room, next to the computer desk. Mystic's tongue was licking at her right temple, but who was licking at her pussy? Oh, it was her, fingering herself again, fingering herself like there was no tomorrow. Ohgod, the heat, it was back with a vengeance, so hot, so incredibly horny, even hotter than that insanely wild and naughty ride last night.

She lightly stroked her clitoris with the middle finger of her right hand, applying the rapidly tapping pressure that usually got her off most efficiently. Her clit vibrated wildly, making her gasp and dig her fingernails into the flesh of her thighs.

Oh, ohgod, the pulsing, the throbbing, little drummer fingers making her come, rum pum pum pum. Her clitoris was pulsing, beating, rapping, rapping and tapping and mind-control trapping, trap tap tapping, tapping at her tunnel door. Quoth the clitty-cat, "Give me More!"

Ohgod she could just lie here for hours, playing with herself, keeping a beat, snare-drumming her heat. And maybe she should. She rolled onto her side, drew her left hand between her thighs, began to insert two fingers into her quivering wetness...

And felt the hardwood floor press against her cheek. Why was she lying here on the floor? She couldn't even remember leaving her bedroom... Oh, right, she came here to see how hot it was outside. Not as hot as I am inside, she thought. The sun might be baking the city but the sun's heat paled in comparison to the forces she felt frying her from the inside. Playing with her pussy here and in her sleep earlier had done nothing but blow oxygen onto some raging internal fires.

She was tempted to spend the rest of the day in bed with the a.c. going full blast, spend the whole day fingering-fucking herself... She could see that, could see herself masturbating for hours while replaying last night's wild ride in her mind, taking some of the more exciting memories farther, imagining what might have happened, how things could have been...

Like the Chinese guys. What if they'd gang-banged her right on the sidewalk? There had been five of them — how quickly could she have sucked them all off, was there an official world's record for that kind of thing? Or — and this thought was even more thrilling — could she blow two at a time, with two more fucking her in her pussy and up the ass? That would still leave one unaccounted for... Between her tits, she could have fucked him with her tits while the others filled all of her holes...

"Ohgod!", she cried, feeling her entire body buzz with fresh heat. So much heat, so much energy...

With all of this energy she would have outlasted them, too, all five of them, she had no doubt about that. They could have pulled out cell phones and called all of their friends to join in, too — it didn't matter how many there were, she would have outlasted any number, she could have fucked them until they were all sprawled on the sidewalk and street, flopping around clutching their aching dicks.

And how close had she come to finally taking a bi-turn with that unseen woman in the bar? Their contact had been so brief yet so excruciatingly intense. Never seeing the face of her female dance partner had only heightened her other senses and widened the possibilities, saturating the moment with rocket fuel.

She replayed the scene in her mind, except that this time she was blindfolded, officially sightless. "Who else wants a piece of this?", she yelled into the bar crowd. A perfume-scented cheek brushed against hers and she turned her head, eagerly accepting the tongue that pushed into her mouth.

Ohgod, yes, a woman, finally! She reached out, blindly letting her hands trace the curves of this mystery woman from the bridge of her nose, down her face, lingering on the soft lips, taking the moisture of that mouth down the chin...

A second soft cheek brushed her face on the opposite side, and then a warm tongue and hungry lips, playing with her earlobe, breathing hot air into her ear canal.

"Oh yessss!", she hissed, just as another mouth, another tongue, began to snake its way up the inside of her left thigh. Someone lifted her wet shirt — she could feel her breasts jiggle as the air passed across her exposed flesh, through her nipple rings, further hardening her already stiff nipples. Oh yes, free at last!

A tongue suddenly lapping at her left nipple, tickling the underside, then the lips gently tugging at her nipple ring. A small hand cupped her right breast, squeezing, assessing, and as she groaned her heated response she felt the unseen traveler working up her legs lower her panties, then return to find her blazing pussy with the wet tip of a tongue. Light flicks on her clitoris, a slickened finger entering her mouth, two hands squeezing her ass cheeks while an indeterminable number of hands began to handle her big breasts.

She hissed, so hot, almost there... And then something wet and silky slowly pushed its way into her ass. Gasping, she felt herself melting. She was so close, so close...

She cried out as a tongue was firmly thrust inside of her cunt. She was plugged up and her steam couldn't escape, had nowhere to go, could only turn inward and cause her sex to implode. Ohgod, how many lovers? How many did it take to fill every hole? She clenched her ass around the object inside, tightened the muscles of her tunnel around the invading tongue, moaned into the finger in her mouth...

"OOOOHHHHH!', she screamed, her hips bucking, her tits aching, her ass spasming, her pussy imploding. "OOOHHHHHGGGODDD!"

The orgasm crackled inside of her, a sharp boom that penetrated her being, electric pleasure shooting everywhere. She moaned and writhed on the floor, her entire body shaking, the explosions reverberating, echoing over and over, eventually growing fainter and fainter, becoming distant...

She lay there panting, her body buzzing, her mind reeling. Where was she? In the bar, lying on the floor with at least four lovers above her. She slowly opened her eyes...

A high ceiling, her ceiling, and Mystic's sweet face just a foot from her head, staring at her with his green eyes wide.

Not in the bar, that was just a fantasy, she thought. I'm still on the floor. I'm on my floor and it's so easy to come, almost hard not to come, like I have a wild tornado spiraling in and out of my pussy.

Tornado... weather. Outside. Outside with others, that was where she needed to be. She wanted lovers, male and female, wanted to find that unseen woman from the bar last night. If she prowled the city's streets, all senses alert, could she retrace the woman's steps, could she track her movements and hunt the woman down? She remembered the scent of the woman's cheek, the slippery feel of her tongue...

She would know her again by scent and touch, who needed confirmation from the eyes? The body knew. Her body knew. Her body felt like it could know almost anything.

Example: Her body knew that she couldn't just lie here today playing with herself — she felt like she could come a hundred times just by letting her imagination take her into unexplored territories, but it wouldn't work out that way. The day wouldn't go that smoothly, because Lance was sure to call at some point, there was no way he wouldn't call after last night.

Why had she fucked him? Oh, right, because she was a fucking hungry naughty hottie, and by fucking Lance she'd been able to add layer upon layer of betrayal into the sex, helping to steam things up past the boiling point. Treachery and lechery, playing and betraying...

Maybe it would be a good thing if Lance called, it would be nice to suck him off again and this time she could fuck him with her tits, too. Make a slippery slit of these big aching tits, thrust your cock deep inside and see how it fits... Just imagine how hot things could get this time with some room to move, some space to get physical in. God, she couldn't wait!

Strange, though... She had that feeling of negative anticipation, that sense of an imminent unpleasant conversation or message. Lance? No, after blowing him that way last night she already had him on a string, she'd be able to make him do anything. Maybe it was Sara, his girlfriend. Or...

"Oh no!," she cried, sitting up in alarm and looking up at her computer. "Ohmygod! MagicThunder! I have to... to..."

What did she have to do? She was staring at her computer, her body all tense, her heart beating wildly. Something was wrong with her computer? System crashed, memory trashed...

Silly, she thought. Her heart was beating a mile a minute because her orgasms were so incredible. Heating and beating and mind-control treating... That's right, she needed a sex treat, something to blow her mind and body alike. The problem wasn't in her computer's RAM — the problem was in not having someone here to ram something inside of her!

Still, she had a nagging sense that some message would arrive today, some piece of news that would color or screw-up the rest of the day. The feeling was so strong that it was obviously best to be gone when the bad news arrived, to go out on the street and have some fun.

Her inner fires continued to burn as she showered, she just couldn't stop playing with herself. Pulling at her nipple rings, fingering her honey of a cunny, she never quite took herself over the edge, but she didn't let herself cool down, either. The razor's edge, Cindy on a ledge, high-wire stunt, need something in my cunt...

Afterwards she made coffee and slipped into panties, a sports bra, cut-offs and a tank-top. Checking herself out in the mirror, she decided to completely ditch the bra and the panties and switch the shorts for a tight black leather mini-skirt that she sometimes wore to late night dance clubs. A pair of matching pumps completed the transformation, and what a transformation it was!

She couldn't stop a loud moan from escaping her lips as she regarded her reflection. She was almost painfully sexy, there was no getting around that fact. Her breasts looked incredible covered only by the ribbed cotton of her tank top, and her nipples and nipple rings had never looked more aggressive. Leaving her panties at home was a stroke of genius — from her eye-level, even while walking back and forth in front of the mirror, you couldn't quite see her bare pussy or bare ass. But if a shorter person's eyes traveled up to where her thighs converged...

Her silky flesh, wet and sleek, take a look, get a peek...

And her ass... She twisted her body to see how her ass looked in the skirt and could barely believe it. Fuck, was there a woman in this city with a better ass? Eight million people, roughly half being women... Still, who else had an ass like this, so tight and firm, so explosively round? She almost wished she could meet and fuck herself for the first time, she looked so sexy.

Yep, a real stroke of genius, the short skirt without any panties. Stroke a genius, smoke a penis... That sure did sound like fun. She hoped that she would run into some sort of Einstein today. She could explain how she didn't need the friction of any undergarments rubbing at her pussy when her clitoris was already vibrating to beat off the band. And if her genius' hair didn't stick out all Einstein-crazy to begin with, it would after he got a flash of her bare ass and she stroked and smoked his penis.

She didn't really know where she was going as she left her building, but after a couple of blocks it was obvious. Saturday meant the outdoor green market at Union Square, where she did almost all of her grocery shopping in the summer.

Hot sun beat upon her as she walked north. It was definitely a scorcher — heat radiated up from the sidewalks and street, traveling up her legs, breathing fire into her exposed pussy.

Wait. Exposed pussy? She stopped in her tracks, looked down at herself...

She didn't even have to check, she could feel the air moving between her thighs in a different way, caressing her tunnel entrance, brushing her barely covered ass. She looked around, saw people staring, lusting...

Something wasn't right, something was very wrong, something much bigger than the fact that she was standing here bare-assed on the street. She shut her eyes, brought up a hand and rubbed at her left temple.

What wasn't right? She'd had that feeling recently, that feeling of things being wrong. When?

Last night, when she'd flirted with half the city, when she'd wanted to be raped by strangers, when... And then the words came back to her in a flood.

"Ohgod, no!"

A new poem, a stealth poem, she had read it and somehow forgotten it! The poem had her in its grip, she could feel it! Not possible!, her mind protested, but she knew, she knew that it had to be possible because it was happening, it had happened last night and it was happening right now.

"MagicThunder!", she shouted. She was being controlled, somehow turned into MagicThunder's sex-puppet!

Panicked, she looked up at the sky, saw that the weather would surely turn violent at some point in the day.

No no no! How could this be happening? Mind-control wasn't real! But her actions last night, so much like the other poem. And now this new poem, and somehow she'd even been prevented from remembering it!

Her heart was beating so wildly that she thought it might leap out of her chest. Turning around, walking rapidly back towards her building, almost running, she silently recalled the words. "Distant thunder, your sexiest skirt, with no panties under, so sexy it hurts..."

Ohgod, and here she was, dressed just like that, on Broadway, hundreds of people around... She turned her head, saw her reflection in a store window...

And stopped, unable to even believe how sexy she looked. She felt a fresh wave of heat rush between her legs, her clitoris beating as though her heart had migrated and taken up residence there. So hot, so hot... She felt like she could collapse right here on the sidewalk, feeling up her tits and running her hands up her thighs, with no obstructions, no annoying panties to pull aside...

No, no, not yet, not like this, she would have to wait. She was achingly beautiful but her beauty needed to be shared, better to give and receive, give even more than they'd believe...

She turned and walked north, then east towards University Place, always towards the park, so aware of the effect she was having on others. Hot as it was on the street, she felt like the air bent even more around her, that a wake of greater heat trailed behind her as she trekked towards her destination.

She stopped at the corner of University and Broadway and looked back at the sidewalk where he had just passed, half-expecting to see steaming drops of her lubricating juices on the concrete. No drops, but lots and lots of people checking her out, admiring her body. Stares, craning necks, double and triple-takes, comments, whistles, cars nearly back-ending other cars... Most people could pass unnoticed as they made their way down New York's teeming sidewalks, but not a steaming hottie like her, not today, no no no.

Maybe she should carry cards to hand out, cards for the Website where all of these admirers could get a better look at her. Hell, maybe she should build her own Website and mount cameras all over her loft and especially under her computer table, then let the world watch her masturbate in real-time while she read mind-control stories.

Busty Cindy reads a story, watch her in her naked glory, see her fingering her cunny, credit cards now give me money...

Once in the crowded open air market, she breathed in deeply, absorbing the scents of late summer flowers and orgasmic.... wait, organic, produce. She browsed the stalls, almost painfully aware of the way her body stirred up the crowd around her. She honestly didn't know if she had ever felt this way in her life, all of her senses on alert, her body almost tingling with awareness, super-sensitive.

My body is on red alert, bare pussy under this skirt, tits about to bust this shirt...

She felt combustible as she bought tomatoes, peaches, some corn and two huge bunches of basil. She stopped at a health-products stall and impulsively bought a bottle of scented massage oil. A strawberry yogurt smoothie constituted her late breakfast/lunch, but it didn't make a dent in her fucking hunger.

Everything in the market looked so fresh, so ripe yet firm. Just like herself. Peaches and melons were swollen with sweet juices, almost bursting with nectar... Just looking around at the inexhaustible supply of produce was getting her body all worked up. Quite the cornucopia, just the place for porn-utopia...

She was literally salivating, her tongue feeling like it was vibrating in anticipation. Her throbbing clitoris asked: A man or a woman this time, a semen snack or a box lunch? Fuck the idea of holding out for a genius to seduce, why be so picky? In fact, maybe she was the genius today, her brain so sharp that it could ask one of the world's most pressing questions: Why had she never performed oral sex on a total stranger in the park before? The answer was immediately there — she hadn't done it because she hadn't even been asking the right questions. How could you solve an equation without asking the right questions?

She had learned so much about research in her psych classes, maybe it was time to apply her training. Her first task was to choose test subjects. She swept her eyes in every direction. Without even trying hard she could see at least forty or fifty people, male and female, checking her out big-time, stunned by her shapely legs and the way she maxxed-out her tank top. Her nipples were an especially big hit. Nipple rings on exceptional tits drew enough attention to begin with, but now, with her nipples so fucking hard and straining at the fabric of her top...

Most of the vendors were staring, too, not paying any attention to their customers at all. In fact, how many people weren't salivating over her hot body? Men, women, kids... This was far more than sexy Cindy showing her scorching body and getting the expected results. She was experiencing a problem common to many researchers: She was skewing the experiment. Her pussy wanted certain outcomes and her heat was reaching out, altering the behavior patterns of the test subjects.

All these folks in petri dishes, sucking air like gasping fishes, maybe I'll stir up their wishes...

She slowly strolled through the crowd, feeling that she was always at its center no matter where she was located. She had sexual gravity, everything was invisibly revolving around her, being sucked in...

Something special was in the air, she could sense it, maybe even smell it. She was so damn sexy that it hurt — that in itself was enough to draw countless stares, to send a tremor of heat throughout the crowd. But today there was so much more going on. She felt like a sex magnet, like a super-curvy sex magnet drawing lust to herself, charging the atmosphere with invisible ionized sex particles.

She had the sense that her blood and her hormones were boiling in the sun, that she was practically a fucking sex goddess of the sun, a goddess with solar winds animating her tongue and a rumbling volcano for a pussy, and like a volcano she felt deep rumblings below her surface, seismic tremors presaging some sort of monumental eruption.

A hot breeze kicked up and somewhere, maybe, she heard a faint rumbling sound. She shook, trembled... She felt like she could fuck every person in this park and still be hungry for more. And they saw it in her body, felt it seeping out from her pores, she knew they did. Just standing there in the sun, just by breathing in and out and feeling like her cunt was venting steam into the open air...

Sexy Cindy drawing stares, catching this crowd unawares, didn't know that she would blow and drown them in her lava flow...

Something... shifted. The air itself felt for an instant that it was nothing more than an extension of her heat, of her desire. She heard shouts behind her, turned and saw that some sort of commotion was taking place in the crowd. Somebody screamed and the sound pierced her heart, sent chills down her spine.

Two cops ran past her, there was some sort of emergency...

Emergency. Red alert. Some sort of crazy thought stabbed at her brain and she winced, then blinked her eyes in the sunlight. Hot air blew across her face, drying the sweat on her temples. The air caressed her arms, her legs, blowing right into her dripping pussy...

Her own heat, doubling back after tasting the crowd? Her pussy flared with an ever greater awareness, her senses heightened. She was hungry, hungry to fuck like a sexual wolf prowling through a marketful of sheep.

Wait.

Something about those words, there was something about those words... She was hit with an extreme case of deja-vu. It was as if all of this had happened before. Had it? Had this all happened before?

Almost, but not exactly, not true deja-vu. She had been a predator on the prowl, trying to remember something. Like now, just like now. Her head was spinning as she tried to remember, tried to shake away this weird fog of forgetfulness that seemed to inhabit her mind.

Hungry to fuck, like a wolf... Like a predator. A predator on the street.

She rubbed at her right temple with two fingers. The words were from a poem. From a MagicThunder poem. Last night, the poem was from last night, something about heat, then a predator on the street. And she felt like... Wait. She was the predator? But that would mean...

Fuck. Something wasn't right, and it had to do with MagicThunder's crazy poetry. Too much of a coincidence, it was too much. She had been the predator on the street last night, and so naughty...

The realization hit her with full force. She had been the predator! She had been out of control. Not herself. Hunting for hot sex.

Her heart raced, pounded, because more lines from the poem were coming back to her. Something about rain and windows and a knowing tongue...

Oh no. Ohgod. Oh No! It couldn't be! Bad bad news, bad hand dealt, the more she remembered the worse she felt.

She drew a hand to her throat, could barely breathe she felt so panicked. Not deja-vu at all! And hadn't she remembered all of this before, not twenty minutes ago on Broadway? But she had forgotten somehow, her memories kept going underground! Last night, today... It kept happening, she could remember that things weren't right and then the next thing she knew, or didn't know...

Was she still being a predator? Where was she, anyway? She swung her head to the right and left. The park, the market, safe, among others...

Although how had she gotten here?

More words filtered up towards the surface. A ride. A wild market ride...

Market! Ohgod, no! She had been led here by new words, by MagicThunder's horrible... whatever! Influence. Commands. Mind-control.

She had to get out of here, she had to save herself before she forgot again. She didn't know why she kept forgetting...

She heard more sirens, heard rumbling and shouting behind her. An emergency, some sort of emergency. The police! Medics! Trained professionals, trained to help!

To help with what? She heard more screams, screams and shouts. Somebody in the park needed help, but the crowd was congealing in the way of all crowds when something exciting is happening. The throng was too thick, she couldn't see the nature of the event. More sirens pierced the hot air and a blaring horn sounded the approach of a fire engine.

A fire? Fuck, she could show them a fire, it was smoldering right here under this skirt. Had they come to help her? She needed help. She needed a thick, long hose to put out her fire, she needed it desperately. She swept her eyes through the crowd, zeroing in on...

That sweet-looking guy over there, the one selling corn and tomatoes and fat cucumbers under an awning. He was in his early thirties, fresh-faced with a good jaw and bright blue eyes. She liked his forearms and the tanned skin that reflected countless hours out in the sun. A handsome farmer man, Old McDonald off the farm, blowing him could do no harm...

More importantly, he looked as though he was almost completely under her spell already. His eyes were firmly locked onto her body, although they kept shifting from her tits to her upper thighs as though he couldn't decide what he wanted to stare at the most. She smiled at him and swayed her firm ass over to his display, picking up one of the larger cucumbers out of a box. It was hard and waxy in her hand and she couldn't help wondering what it might feel like to shove something this fat and long into her pussy, or how much of it she could cram down her mouth or even her throat.

Or... A thought came that sent electric shivers to every part of her body: If she bought three of them, she could stuff one into every hole.

"Oh yesss," she breathed.

"They're, uh, really sweet this time of year," the vendor commented, misreading her interest. His eyes roaming all over her curves. He tried to hide it, but he was hungry, too.

"And you?," she asked. "Are you sweet?"

"Me? Of course I am!"

"Good," she continued. "I like my lovers to be sweet."

He chuckled nervously, his eyes meeting hers but then leaving to erect a base-camp on her twin summits. Her body and her words had him hooked already. And her scent, caught and carried on the steaming breeze — he had to be able to smell her damp snatch, aching for a partner, he had to.

Cindy placed her bags on the ground and drew out her little bottle of massage oil, opened it and very deliberately poured a viscous trail onto one of the cucumber's ends. She brought the cucumber up to her throat, allowing it to glide there, the fragrant oil mixing with her own beads of sweat. Holding the slickened cuke loosely in her hand, she rolled the end down between her collarbones, down more until it was just entering the indentation at the top of her cleavage.

"Mmmmmm...", she sighed, closing her eyes. Her tongue made a slow clockwise circle around the circumference of her lips as she delighted in the feel of the slick pressure against the billowing tops of her breasts. So big, so hard, and she could swallow it with her mouth or slip it down until it was devoured between these two voluminous beauties...

She opened her eyes and found Mr. Farmer Man's gaze hopelessly locked onto the action at the top of her tits. She'd always known that her tits could hypnotize a man, but the effect was so much more powerful when the man saw a penis-like object pressing into her soft flesh, saw the way that her tit-flesh conformed to its shape...

She looked down at her chest, too, following the journey of the plump vegetable as it rolled out and along the upper curving shelf of her right breast.

"Mmmmmm...", she sighed again. So big, so hard...

"J...Jesus Christ!", her farmer groaned.

Sexy Cindy, she's a charmer, watch her torture this poor farmer... The man looked like he was going to crumble any second just from watching her play with one of his vegetables. Old McDonald had a dick, eee iii eee iii ohhh, and her tongue would make it so slick, oh God oh God ohhh...

She heard a murmur of raised voices behind her, turned and saw a woman all over a younger guy, grinding her jeans against his crotch. They toppled over onto the asphalt and a small crowd closed around them, watching.

She ignored the two lovers, leaned in conspiratorially towards her farmer man, practically dropping her boobs onto the guy's produce so she could whisper into his ear. "I don't know anything about farming but I know all about Miracle Grow," she began. She dropped her chin, looked down at her tits, compressing them with her upper arms. "These are my version of Miracle Grow," she breathed, squeezing harder. "I just point them in any direction and it's amazing how many things suddenly triple in size. And seeds... God, I love to see them covered in seed, to see a man of the earth fertilizing them... Maybe that's how they got so big, with hands just like yours rubbing fertilizer into them, rubbing them thoroughly until every drop is absorbed."

The man's mouth hung open and she could see his entire body trembling. He groaned out loud as though her energy was tearing the sound right out of his aching balls. She felt nearly ready to explode, just from watching the poor guy's systems go haywire. Her clitoris was pulsing like crazy and she wondered whether that little trickle moving down her right thigh was sweat or a fragrant trail of her boiling-hot juices.

More sounds in the crowd, a scream and the crash of something falling over. A weird hooting sound, and more sirens.

Ignore all of that and keep pouring it on, Pandora's cunt insisted. Conduct more science, insist on compliance...

She felt so fucking powerful, she felt like she could make Old McDonald here do any damned thing already, like the electricity between them was alive, frying his brain as it jolted his dick, shooting out bolts of energy, mesmerizing him, affecting and infecting the whole crowd.

She brought the cucumber in her hand up in front of her face, peered at it and licked her lips. "Tell me, Mister Farmer Man, how do you get all of this fine produce to the market every week?"

"Uh... Oh God, it's, uh... That's my van right behind me. I, uh... Oh God..."

"There's room in the back?"

"S...sure. Uh, what..."

"We're going to, uhhh, go inside of it together and strip naked. And then, uhhh, I'm going to suck you off like you, uhhh, never even imagined before."

"Good G...God! But... we can't... uh, I can't! My wife is right over there working that meat stand!"

Funny how he wasn't saying that he wouldn't, just that he couldn't. Cindy followed her farmer man's lust/panic-stricken eyes, which directly led her gaze through the crowd to an attractive young woman with long dark hair.

So she was into meat, was she? The man's wife was a looker, small and compact but with a nicely shaped body and pillow-lips that obviously helped sales. She looked agitated, though. In fact, almost everyone looked agitated.

But the farmer's wife wore tension well, the quality of her features were all the more alluring in their intensity. With that sensational mouth, it was so easy for Cindy to imagine Young Mrs. McDonald as her first, the very first woman to eat her pussy. My pussy drips for your soft lovely lips, just follow the sway of my beautiful hips...

She thought she heard a low rumble, far away. Thunder? She sniffed the air, detected distant rains, her nose so sensitive, every sense so alert that it felt like she could hook in to the farmer's wife's scent from afar. Growing so damp, feel just like a tramp... She could swear that she was locking into the other woman's being, sending out irresistible sex signals, igniting another pussy from afar, drawing her in...

A naked man carrying a shirtless woman piggyback ran past them, pursued by two cops. She saw a white bra being waved in tight circles above the heads of a few dozen people. A group of four or five young women nearby seemed to be groping each other, as though just realizing that they all had breasts and needed to share them. Again she heard screams.

"W...what's happening?", her man asked. "What's..."

She slipped around his display and sidled up to him, pressing her tits into his side. "Your hard cock is happening," she demanded, slipping her right hand inside the waist of his pants. "And I need it, now!"

"W...who are you?", the man groaned, his voice catching.

"I'm the woman who's going to redefine the word 'sex' for you today. Now come over to your van..."

"But... m...my wife! I..."

So cute but such a dullard, all worried about unnecessary details. Somewhere inside of herself she already knew that the man's wife was taken care of, that everything everywhere was already lined up.

She unzipped his fly and drew his cock out into the light, then grasped one of his hands and slid it up her thigh, guiding his thick fingers to her fragrant wetlands delta. She felt his body go stiff as his resistance melted away, became nothing more than smoke that mingled with her fire. Grasping his hard tool in her hand, she pulled him towards the van with it.

No choice said the voice. Far too late to avoid your fate.

It had to be a hundred and twenty degrees in the van, but she was hotter than that so it almost felt cool to her. The cargo section was a mess of flattened cardboard boxes and empty wooden crates — she cracked open the back door for air and quickly pushed the crates out of the way, making a serviceable bed out of the cardboard. Who needs romance, got to get in these pants...

She stripped off her top but the short leather skirt without panties was just too sexy and it didn't impede entrance to her pussy in any way, so she left that in place. She lay breast-side up on the cardboard and inserted two fingers into her molten tunnel. Only then did she turn and look into Mr. Farmer Man's eyes.

He looked stricken, overcome, his dick straining so hard out of his opened fly that it was easily the first part of him to enter the back part of the van to join her. She heard his breath catch as his hands touched her legs, and she could swear she smelled every drop of pre-cum saturating the tip of his dick.

"G...good God, but you're beautiful!," he whispered. "I... I can't believe you!"

Cindy pulled him roughly to her and his hands greedily sought out her breasts. He groaned loudly with the very first squeeze, his voice conveying something much greater than satisfaction, something more in the direction of disbelief. She worked at his pants as he felt her up and she had the lower half of him naked within seconds. A few deft strokes with her fingertips and she could feel him become hardened putty in her hands, his senses all overloaded.

She guided him by shifting her weight, turning the tables so that he was the one on the bottom, his dick pointing straight up towards the van's roof. It was just a tad longer than Lance's and a good bit thicker, especially at the base...

Her vibrating pussy seemed to gush its applause. This cock was a winner, the biggest dick she had ever handled, give that farmer a ribbon! Old McDonald's circumcised, and his dick is mesmerized, Cindy's got a fat one here, time to get her tits in gear...

She winked once, then adjusted her body on all fours, leaning in so that her big breasts swiped the entire area of her farmer's groin and abdomen. His eyes were locked onto her swaying boobs and he lay there as though in a state of shock, shocked that this could actually be happening, shocked that his erect dick was coming so close to being the meat in the center of a biggie-sized knocker sandwich.

Cindy liked being in control. She felt everything buzzing everywhere, her body generating heat and current that shot out and filled the van. She felt so fucking sensitive, inside and out. The air temperature in the van was cooling down but she had the sense that the world outside was heating up, that the barometer was plummeting and the air itself was becoming charged with electricity.

Kneeling now with her legs spread wide, she bent at the waist and gathered the volume of her breasts with her hands, directing a firm long cleavage canyon at the pulsing dick before her. Three, two, one... contact! Her helpless stranger gasped as the head of his cock penetrated her boob-flesh. She opened her mouth in a lazy smile and allowed saliva to run down her chin, eventually landing on and saturating their tit/cock point of contact, turning everything all boob-slippery.

Drool on his tool, form a tight pool...

She thought he was going to have an aneurysm or something, the way his eyes crossed as she smothered his dick with her saliva and her steaming wet boobs. Her breasts were big enough that his throbbing member was lost between them, lost at sea in an awesome perfect tit-storm. She moved her upper body in a circular motion from her waist, causing her breasts to almost slosh back and forth, up and down and all around...

The sensations penetrated through her breast-tissue. The man's excitement seemed to enter right into her and gather, giving her energy, fueling the heat between her legs, causing her raging beating clitoris to rage and beat all the more. She moaned and her sounds were echoed by other moans and shouts and screams outside, out there in the hot air. Everyfuckingone should feel heat like this, excitement like this, should feel sunburst heat that broke through all barriers, that gathered within her body but burst out in invisible waves...

Yesssss, her tongue seemed to say, vibrating hungrily. Listening, she shifted her position, unbuttoned her farmer's shirt and temporarily vacated the man's crying cock to drag her ringed nipples lightly up the center of his torso, gliding on his sweat. With every long downward swipe she overshot his towering tool, bringing her mouth closer to its target, teasing him first with her breath, then with her breath and the tip of her nose, then with her nose and her soft wet lips, and finally, finally, her tongue.

With that first instant of contact, her man cried out, and she did, too. That feeling, that unbelievable sensitivity... It was back, perhaps even stronger than the night before. She swirled saliva in her mouth, bathing the man's cock in the tides of a hot sucking sea. She was instantly flooded with waves of pleasure, jolting liquid pleasure, washing deep impressions to her shores. She could feel his body producing sperm, feel his blood pressure accelerating, feel the breath in his lungs and the intense pounding of his heartbeat...

His name was George. Curious George, so engorged...

The signals gathered by her tongue were transmitted directly to her pussy, joining forces, sending hot shivers throughout her body. Her tongue circled the head of his penis, dabbed and flicked, and almost instantly she was attuned to the needs of this cock, somehow detecting and understanding its currents, knowing the man and what drove the man. She drew him deeper inside her mouth, following and reading the pulsing cock-messages as though her tongue had a special degree in penis psychology, as if she'd been blowing this farmer for years on a psychiatrist's couch, learning the unconscious desires of his mind and his cock alike. In seconds she knew more of what this guy wanted than he would ever know.

Step aside Freud and Jung, Cindy has a psychic tongue...

His emotions were all over the place — excitement, lust, disbelief, tit-frenzy, panic that his wife, Suzie, would catch him with his dick in another woman's mouth...

His silent fear made her even hotter. She slipped and dripped, twirled and swirled... It was unbelievable — as Cindy continued her oral assault on this guy's dick, she could read even more, could sense echoes of this cock's recent activities, its history. Doggy-style sex with his wife two nights ago, the echoes of that fuck-session resounding in her pussy as though it was happening now. Suzie had given him a slow, languorous blow-job right after dinner on Tuesday, and...

She moaned loudly into his hardness as a new hot impression flooded her: Not more than a week ago, George the Farmer Man had fantasized over her while banging his wife! He had seen her on other Saturdays over the summer, had locked onto her shapely body and angelic face and had fantasized about her, masturbated over her, had imagined his fingers running through her blonde hair, had pictured his rough hands playing with her full breasts, had imagined his head between her legs...

Her pussy was blazing, her clitoris beating like a jackhammer as she wondered: How many others? How many sellers or buyers or even just people strolling through the park on a regular basis had noticed her over the weeks and years, and of those, how many had actually fantasized about her body at some point, how many had imagined themselves sucking on her nipples or squeezing her breasts or tonguing her slit...

They should all come, they should all lose themselves to their wild fantasies. They should all lose control.

She felt the van rock as a gust of wind kicked up outside. A crashing sound, perhaps thunder, and then more shouting, more screams and squeals, running footsteps, a weird "Yee-haw!" sort of holler, sirens...

Cindy closed her eyes, blindly savoring the rhythmic sucking in her mouth and the fires raging inside of her pussy. Yes, yes, situation under control, time for fire in every hole...

The back doors of the van were suddenly flung open, a blast of heated air charging inside, carrying the outside sounds at a greater volume. Cindy kept sucking and raised her rear, adjusted the angle, her pussy feeling like it was framed in landing lights, guiding, directing...

She heard a distinctly feminine groan an instant before she felt hands clutching at the backs of her thighs. The van rocked, a finger slipped gently between her legs, finding her hot and wet and ohgod so ready...

Hot breath followed, the texture of soft hair brushing the flesh between her legs, the pressure of a cheek on her left thigh, her skirt being pushed up, and finally, finally, wet contact.

Here comes Suzie Cottontail, tonguing up the pussy trail, slippity-drippity orgasms are on the wayyyy...

Every centimeter of the woman's progress had her thighs quaking, her clitoris screaming. Shivery quivery, special delivery...

She didn't think it was possible to feel any more excited, but with the first pass of the woman's tongue along her blistering folds, everything changed. All of the sensations of her body joined forces, gathering energy while allowing her to feel so much at once, every detail crystal clear. She could feel the tongue dabbing at her blazing clitoris as though through a sensory microscope, she could feel the molecular heat of the hard pulsing cock in her clairvoyant mouth and she could feel it all as though connecting a puzzle with hundreds or thousands of burning dots, the final shape emerging, so much coming together into a grand design.

Hands grasped at her breasts, her thighs, male and female hands squeezing and kneading. Her nipple rings were rings of fire and the fire had spread everywhere. The tongue on her slit pushed its way inside as a wet upper lip flattened against her clitoris, and the cock in her mouth seemed to pulse with renewed life.

She flooded the cock in her mouth with a fresh wave of hot saliva, sucking fast and deep as she had never sucked before. The tongue in her depths slurped crazily, a flood of saliva coating her jackhammer clit, the woman's liquid heat colliding with her own liquid heat...

Her hand reached out, found a soft thigh just where she knew she would find it, slipped in, and up, and inside of the velvety wetness there...

Jolts and bolts, moans and groans all around as her other hand reflexively reached sideways, touched something big and hard and waxy, and then her fingers found the slickened end, prepared for her, carried here, foreordained, the final piece to the puzzle ready to slip into a very tight place.

She gasped into the dick in her mouth, felt a storm gathering in her invaded pussy. Her hand brought the cucumber into position, hesitating just long enough for her to assemble every particle of energy, every sexy atom of her being.

The slippery fat beast eased inside and everything vibrated, rattled, a marching band pounding a rhythm inside her clitoris, her very being now a pressure-cooker, just at the instant before a grand explosion. One hole two holes three...

Her ass clenched around the cucumber head and her clitoris screamed for joy. She moaned into the cock in her mouth, moaned and screamed and the cock was drawn down her throat, her larynx vibrating straight into its hardness. Her entire body bucked, contractions everywhere. She felt his body turn to buzzing vibrating dancing sex atoms, growing as hot as her own, blazing in one extreme instant like a supernova. And then... searing heat, everywhere. Sounds, screams, explosions. Her farmer cried out, spewing an amazing amount of cum into her mouth and throat.

The sudden hot spurting was echoed by a hot tsunami-producing quake within her loins. A lava flow blasted at the tongue vibrating in her tunnel, and two of her fingers slipped and slid inside of another tunnel, a wet tunnel also flooding with liquid fire. She pumped that tunnel furiously, felt the farmer's wife's body shake crazily, heard her try to scream, the sound's gurgling right into her own chiming clit.

This couple, both screaming, must think they are dreaming, joining her coming and going and reaming...

Her own body erupted again and again, booming, drinking greedily from the fountain in her mouth, her tongue continuing to lick and flick and perform every trick. Drink every drop, don't ever stop, keep sucking and coming and hear their minds pop...