“You’re safe,” she whispered into his ear. Her voice entered him like a soft, feminine caress and he smiled, but then the storm in his mind took hold and twisted, extracting the femininity, wanting to fuck it, fuck it over and over, fuck it for the rest of his life.

“Anthony? Come back, please. We need you.”

“Want to fuck you foreverrrr,” he whispered, still too far away.

She laid her fingers on his temples, felt his thoughts still swirling as though caught in a whirlpool. His mind was awash with liquid heat, forces pulling him down. She found a place in the center, a tiny zone of relative tranquility, and lowered a rope that he might climb. She read him taking in the scent of her hair, associating it with her looks, her body, her vagina. The smell of delicious pussy and the touch of her hands on his temples were so much alike, maybe even the same to him, and so identical to the energy that had blown his spinning dick into the stratosphere.

That was odd, how Anthony’s mind couldn’t separate the super-sex that had pulled him down from the feelings he had for her. She had never run into that before, even with Lance. Lance loved a good fuck to relieve the pressure in his aching dick, but he never really linked the cure to the disease, even though both had come through her.

It was going to make things more difficult if Anthony tied her presence now to what he had just been through. Unless she could use that link to her advantage. She leaned her head close to his, her hair draped upon the side of his head like a silky golden blanket. Deep inside, the essence of him was trying to choose. He could stay there and fuck the liquid feminine energy forever, revolving around and around, or climb the rope, out into that world where the pussy was so elusive, but smelled even better.

There, an opportunity. “Anthony… Please be with us,” Cindy tried again.

She could feel him slipping down. If he chose to remain, accepting the fantasies as real, it could take days or even weeks to bring him this close again.

She leaned closer, softly breathing tempting words into his ear. “It’s hot out here,“ she whispered. “I’m hot out here.”

Adjusting her body, she allowed her right breast to brush his chest, and pressed, just enough that his senses recognized the touch for what it was. A hand reached for her breast, and she met it, her nipple hard against his palm, his fingers curling, and closing, and lightly squeezing.

“Yes, Anthony. It’s here. Out here. It’s all out here, waiting for you.”

His fingers circled her nipple, tweaking it, hardening it further. “Ohhhhh,” she sighed as his touch spiraled out, traversing her entire breast, cupping it, assessing its weight, absorbing the tactile details of her blouse and bra. She could sense a new movement inside, the cupping of her breast like a moment of stillness inside. He squeezed, his hand trying to touch the whole of her breast all at once, failing because of its size. Still, the movement recognized wholeness, it wasn’t part of the spiraling. She began to sense his consciousness rising against the downward pull, trying to move from the inside, out.

Close, very close, but she could feel him continuing to struggle. She reached down between her legs, lightly stroking the length of her vagina with her index finger. Her finger lingered longer than it had to, thrilling chills almost making her cry out. She was extremely wet, wetter than she would have thought. It would be so easy to lift her skirt, and pull her panties aside, and feel Anthony’s hardness entering her…

Too much, too selfish. Biting her bottom lip to reinforce her determination, she bent even closer, brushing his cheek with hers, letting her lips meet the corner of his mouth. He puckered, and breathed. Linked as they were, she could sense everything he sensed, smell her hair and feel her flesh, and it was all so beautiful, and smelled so good…

He was closer to the surface now, his thoughts and senses reconnecting. She brought her finger up to his nostrils, allowing him to take in the scent of her heat. Parts of his mind that had been sputtering suddenly kicked into gear, the lights flickering on.

“Smells even better out here,” he said, right before his eyes blinked open.

“Hello, stranger,” Cindy greeted him. “Welcome home.”

Still tied to each other, his thoughts were there for her as though served on a platter. The green eyes that looked into his were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. So gorgeous, he’d always known that, but he’d focused so much on her body that he had neglected the eyes, the fine texture of her skin, the way her upper lip rose in the middle, the shaping so delicate, so precise. Her lips looked like they were designed for kissing, and blowing, and then kissing some more. She was… incomparable.

She smiled, and leaned her head back, giving him a little space. He became aware of his hand touching her breast, and a rush of adrenaline shot into his system. He disengaged his hand and she disengaged from his mind, saying, “We were really worried about you, Anthony.”

He lifted his eyes and took in his surroundings. She saw him piece it together, that he was back at her apartment, lying on the leather sofa.

“How?” he asked.

“I just knew somehow,” Cindy answered. “Alana and I got a cab to your house. We found you on the floor. You were… You were still spinning on the floor, Anthony. Like a top.”

“Tried… to hit the button,” he whispered.

“I know. You don’t have to tell me a thing about what happened, or what it was like. I’ve already seen most of it.”

Because she had rummaged through his memories while working to bring him back. He understood, smiling uncomfortably. She looked away, giving his silly moment of embarrassment an opportunity to rise and fall. She knew how uneasy it made him feel, the way she could tap in and read him. If he only knew how much she had seen over the months, he’d probably die of shame.

And so she didn’t tell. They needed each other too much to let pride come between them. They needed each other too much to even let love intervene.

“I wish it had been me,” Cindy said, emerging from a long silence.

“What do you mean?” he responded. He put on his signal, to pass the delivery van that was throwing so much back-spray onto the windshield. They were crossing the Brooklyn Bridge, keeping their appointment to “fix” the three affected students at Pratt. The morning rain was steady, his wipers needing to go at full speed, but at least his head was clearing.

“She picked on you, Anthony. And unless she can just blink her eyes and teleport herself, she must have been specifically stalking you. I just wish she had started this whole confrontation with me, not you and Lance. If I knew I had her in the same room as me, I swear I’d…”

“You’d what? MagicThunder has definitely added invisibility and telekinesis to her bag of tricks, Cindy. If you’d come home with me, she might have launched you through my bay window for all we know. I don’t think you would have had much more of a chance than I did.”

Cindy fell silent again. Had she caught what he’d said, about her coming home with him? He’d imagined it several times, the two of them together after hours, maybe sharing dessert after he whipped up one of his masterful homemade pizzas. One drink for him, a couple of glasses of wine for Cindy, their eyes meeting and communicating things that had nothing to do with their professional connection.

Can’t go there, he thought. He was too old for her, and she was his daughter’s lover, for God’s sake. Not possible. Not right. Not going to happen.

“Fucking sucks,” he muttered, the rain coming down harder.

“Complain, complain,” she responded, probably thinking he was down about the weather. “You’re lucky to have a mind to complain with this morning, Anthony. Do you realize that?”

He did, and concentrated on the slick road. “Thanks for saving my mind’s ass,” he said. “And I think I would have thrown up if I awakened with my body spinning on the floor.”

She laughed. “I saw that you and Lance did a little male bonding last night,” she said, apparently changing the subject. “I’m glad.”

He wondered how much she had seen in his mind, and with what degree of detail. Did she know every word he’d uttered? Had she “seen” through his eyes, experiencing how he kept checking out Heather’s mouth and legs? Did she know that he envied Lance’s bizarre sexual history, because it had included an unknown amount of special Cindy-sex? Did she know how often he dreamed of reaching out to her, and how often he visited her Website, masturbating in front of his computer monitor like a kid, vividly imagining his cock squeezed between her magnificent tits?

“I’ve tried to call Lance several times,” she broke through his silent questions. “After what happened to you last night… I’m worried about him, Anthony.”

“Lance looked as happy as a clam when I left the bar last night. That Heather is a real treasure, from all indications. I wouldn’t be surprised if they hit it off over time.”

“I still think we should look in on Lance as soon as we’re done here,” Cindy cautioned. “MagicThunder could hit any one of us anywhere at any time. I’m starting to wonder whether we should all stick together somehow.”

“Not practical,” he answered. “Like right now… We couldn’t show up at Pratt with an entourage. The situation is delicate enough as it is. I think we should do what we need to do. We aren’t safe even if we’re all together, anyway. We won’t be safe until we unravel what MagicThunder is up to.”

“Alana did a little sleuthing on the internet after you left last night,” she informed him. “You were right about The Shadow and his powers, but there was more. Although he ultimately fought to expose evil, he was something of a noirish anti-hero who liked to frighten and even mentally torture his prey.”

“Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Oddly enough, Doc Savage was almost the exact opposite, physically handsome and strong, well-educated and brilliant, like a brawny Sherlock Holmes as Renaissance man. Apparently some of the stories portrayed him as being almost Christ-like in his goodness.”

“Hmmm. Dark vs. light, good vs. evil...”

“Instinctive vs. intellectual, cruel vs. compassionate… Everything split in two, just like the cover illustration of her dirty book. She’s getting at something, Anthony.”

“I agree. We’re good and she’s evil.”

“That’s rather simplistic.”

“Well, it didn’t feel very Christ-like the way she slapped me around last night. With all of the power at her disposal, why take an old-fashioned slug at me?”

“I give up. Why?”

“Because belting someone is cathartic, that’s why. Maybe her invisible knuckles stung for a few minutes, but she enjoyed it, I’m sure.”

“Possibly. But I have a hard time picturing MagicThunder being so… crude.”

“Well it’s pretty obvious which of these pulp heroes she identifies with. She did most of her damage last summer in late night thunderstorms, didn’t she? She’s modeling herself on The Shadow, getting her kicks by slinking around, invisibly shadowing our movements. Face it, she could have us all walking around the streets trying to hump fire hydrants if she wanted, but she’s toying with us instead. This is all like a scary game of tag to her, or maybe hide and seek. She watches, hidden, and picks her spots to stir up trouble.”

“If that’s true, then she could be in the back seat right now,” Cindy responded. She looked up into the rear-view mirror, her eyes intense, and yelled at the emptiness in the back seat. “You’re a pitiful bitch, do you know that?”

“She isn’t in the car,” he said.

“Oh? And how do you know that?”

“I deduced it with my brilliant and Christ-like mind.”

“You’re a dick.”

“An observant dick. She left footprints last night, Cindy. She was invisible, but not ephemeral. She still had form, enough form to smack me a couple of times. It felt like hell, but perhaps it’s an opportunity for us. The rain got her wet just like anyone else. Maybe we can find her, sometimes, if she slips up. She’s detectable, Cindy. And she isn’t in the car.”

The dean of the school was nearly hidden behind three additional stiffs in dark suits when they were ushered into his office. Because they were never introduced and looked as though they’d been prematurely embalmed, Tony recognized the men as lawyers. Lawyers, just waiting for somebody to fuck up. He figured they’d try to pin the girls’ jumbled minds on him if anything went wrong, in an attempt to cover the school administrators’ asses.

Cindy, unruffled and efficient, insisted that the affected girls be gathered in a quiet dorm room, rather than a sterile classroom. She insisted on a relaxed atmosphere, with the girls bringing an assortment of clothes along, everything from formalwear to lingerie. After her wishes were granted, Tony took up his position outside the appropriate door while she worked inside, doing whatever kinds of crazy shit she did in situations like these.

He thought about some of his old colleagues on the police force, and wondered what they would say if they knew he’d become an investigator/bouncer employed by an internet hottie with a gift for healing others with paranormal sex. They’d never believe it, but if they did, would they envy him? This line of work was certainly unusual, but was it also exciting? Vicariously, yes. And last night, despite the bumps and bruises, the excitement had finally grabbed hold of his dick.

He heard low voices through the door, a gasping cry, several simultaneous moans. Somebody cried out sharply, not quite a scream but something very close, the tone of voice making his cock tingle.

“What exactly is she doing with those girls in there?” one of the lawyer types asked, suddenly standing too close.

“My partner? She has a magical eighteen inch strap-on,” Tony answered, working hard to keep his expression appropriately glum. “Those girls will answer to any name she gives them when she’s done.”

“That isn’t the least bit funny,” the lawyer stiffened. “I insist…”

”No, I insist,” Tony cut him off. “I insist that you get out of my face. You’re about two words from really pissing me off.”

The lawyer retreated, the four men standing uncomfortably down the hallway, probably wondering what the hell they’d invited onto their campus.

Fuck them. He tuned them out, and tuned out the sounds behind the door as best he could. He really didn’t mind standing and doing nothing, acting as Cindy’s bodyguard while she worked her wonders. Standing there relaxed him in a way, giving him a chance to think without really thinking. Time slipped by, and he gradually realized that his dick ached in a wonderful way that it hadn’t ached since before he was married, since he’d fucked his best friend’s sister for three consecutive days and nights in a cabin in the Catskills.

He remembered that girl, Claire. Cute as a button with cheerleader legs that set his sixteen year-old balls on fire. If her family hadn’t relocated to the west coast at the end of that summer, would they have remained an item? Might he have remained single, playing the field like most of his friends from way back, having all sorts of sex adventures rather than marrying so young?

He remembered how hard he fell for Mary when he met her. She was the proverbial devout Catholic virgin, incongruously equipped with a lascivious smile and a sinfully tight and toned body that sent jolts of energy into his young cock. Had it been Mary, the real Mary, that got to him like that, or some idea of femininity that she’d embodied, some idea that he couldn’t resist? Cindy called that the projection of a man’s “anima”, some piece of himself that gets invisibly superimposed onto a particular woman, making her appear perfect, irresistible. Like falling in love with her was a hidden way to fall in love with himself.

He didn’t know what he thought of Cindy’s overly-complicated psychological theories — he just knew that he fell for Mary to an almost frightening degree, wanting to be near her so badly that he’d accompanied her to church with her family at times, kneeling and praying with a very un-churchlike hard-on in his dress pants. Mary wouldn’t allow him past second base until they were married, so he married her young, and ended up a father at eighteen.

The things we do for sex, he thought. The things we do because a woman has an alluring smile, or eyes with a certain glint, or great legs or a round and shapely ass. Altered lives, changed goals, pheromones and hormones in control, not so different than…

“Anthony?” Cindy interrupted his memories, finally coming out of the girls’ dorm room. Her fine blonde hair was a mess and her cheeks were flushed. “I’m going to need your help this time.”

“Holy shit,” he breathed, when she described what she had in mind. So much time gone by without sex, and now…

“I guess when it rains, it pours,” she said, probably reading his thoughts.

“I just go in there and… do them?”

“If you’re up to it. I know how much you went through last night. We could wait, and come back tomorrow, but the girls are ready right now. Or maybe I could ask Lance, if it turns out he’s cured. But I’d rather it was you.”

“I just… do them? This is their cure?”

“I’ve done all I can. MagicThunder made it impossible for me to undo this last bit all by myself. Just remember that all three have to find the exit more or less together.”

“Find the exit?”

“Sorry. Cum together. And it can’t be me, Anthony. For obvious reasons.”

Because of the one girl’s imposed name, Anita Thikwun. They had to physically act out the puns together to fully crawl out from under MagicThunder’s spell.

“Things will have to be configured in a certain way,” Cindy added. “You know which girl is which, right? ‘Emma’ can go whichever way she chooses, but the pattern is more specific with the other two.”

“They’ll just… want me?”

“I’ve set their minds up to receive you, yes. They’re waiting, Anthony. Anxiously.”

He glanced past Cindy, trying to read how the dean and his little grouping of vultures were reacting to all of this.

“They haven’t heard a word. I’m… taking pains about that. And none of them will remember either one of us by tonight, I guarantee it. Now get in there! I’ll wait out here and be your guard dog this time. It’s all okay.”

He shrugged in wonder before turning, and opening the door.

The dorm room was larger and cozier than he would have expected, with clothing of all kinds strewn everywhere, as though they had spent the day exploring all sorts of role-playing scenarios. All three girls currently lounged in seductive positions on a double bed, their lovely bodies in various stages of undress.

They had all been obviously beautiful before, but had looked nothing like this when he’d interviewed them the previous day. All three had been wearing jeans and sneakers then, their expressions half-blank. Now, each girl was decked out in some form of seductive lingerie, to the point that it was like entering the back room of a dorm party with a Fredericks of Hollywood theme.

But the real difference was in them, in their eyes, and the way their tongues moved along the length of their lips. His presence was met with a level of focus that was almost carnivorous, as though Cindy had talked up his dick the way a good waitress recommends the homemade desserts. They wanted him, and they were going to have him.

“We’ve… been waiting,” the one really named Tawny whispered.

It was like going back to college, except that college had never been like this for him. He’d been prematurely adult, with a young family to take care of, never even having time to lust for sexual hijinks.

“Emma Evergonnacome?” the dark-haired beauty really named Michelle purred, squeezing her monumental breasts together with the insides of her arms. The blue bustier trying to hold her tits in place looked like it was headed for a system failure.

“You know, I’m beginning to think you are,” he answered, his dick springing to life.

“Anita Thikwun,” the girl named Tawny whispered. Her athletic body, tightly wrapped inside of a fire engine red teddy, was lean everywhere except for her tits, and her eyes never deviated from the area of his crotch. She uncurled her legs slowly, extending one out and arching her foot for effect. Long runner’s legs, shaped just the way he liked them, in sheer red stockings and matching heels. She looked like a late Valentine’s gift as she rose from the bed, her hands reaching out and deftly unfastening his belt. He gave in, felt all of his trepidations about the strange situation slipping away, any tensions leaving his body to take up residence in his straining dick.

He smelled female lust rising into the air, and he must not have been the only one. Sherri, now Ida Lichterclit, moaned loudly, then leaned over and began to pull Michelle’s thong panties down her legs. True to the pun, it didn’t look like Sherri was going to give him much attention in this deal. A shame, because to his eyes she was definitely the cream of the crop, with the cutest face and the hottest all-round body. Not quite as toned, not quite as heart-stopping to look at, but in so many ways she was the closest in looks to Cindy.

Funny, how his mind drew comparisons like that. If Sherri/Ida reminded him of Cindy, then Anita/Tawny was like a stand-in for Alana, all taut and super-svelte and flexible. And Michelle/Emma, with her grand tits, was much like… well, like Emma, his daughter. His lovely daughter with her sweet smile and her beautiful huge knockers.

Don’t think like that, he corrected inside, as Tawny pushed him down onto his back, extracting his hard cock and moving in deliberately with her lips. Michelle’s breasts, spilling out from the confines of her bustier, blocked out the light overhead until he could see nothing in his field of vision but two masses of fine pliant flesh, his face almost completely smothered in tit. He couldn’t really keep track of the others with all of this breast-flesh in his face, but what the hell? He did what anyone would do, taking his tongue on a magic rack ride, gliding and sliding it along every succulent inch, pausing at the nipples to suck, and dab, and holy fuck, the things beginning to happen to the head of his cock down there, Tawny’s hands holding him firm, her lips conforming to him, her tongue taking slow and languorous swipes…

Too much, too fast, he was getting too excited too quickly, the abundance of young cunt in the room getting to him. The conflagration needed to be managed somehow, orchestrated into a group effort so that the girls did their thing all at once.

He began to feel lightheaded, probably from the way Anita/Tawny was twisting her mouth around the shaft of his cock. He needed to back up, get the girls more focused on each other. He could ram himself into Tawny right near the end, trying to time her explosion to that of the others, and then, according to Cindy, everyone’s horny carriages would turn back into pumpkins.

He grasped Michelle’s shoulders, lifting her up to restore his field of vision. “Ahh!” he cried, instinctively blinking his eyes.

Not possible, all wrong…

Michelle had become Emma, his Emma. Her hair was reddish instead of dark, her features more refined, her lips like the perfect mix of his own and Mary’s… He blinked again, trying to shake the hallucination away.

Suck on my great big tits, Daddy, he heard in his mind, as Michelle/now Emma but not Emma shoved her grand mounds into his face, more aggressively this time.

“Mmmmf!” he tried to protest, turning his head. He caught sight of the girl working his cock, the girl who should be Tawny. She was Alana, down to the slightest detail. He didn’t even need to see Sherri/Ida to know that he would see her as Cindy.

She was in here somehow, MagicThunder, fucking with his mind, making him see things all wrong! He thought he heard a soft laugh, a chuckle of sorts, and he didn’t think the sound had come from any of the three girls he could see.

He tried to get up, but couldn’t. He tried to call out to Cindy, the real Cindy, out there beyond the door, but no sound came out. “Fuck you!” he managed to croak, just as his daughter shifted her body above him, planting her hot wet pussy in front of his face.

Eat me out, Daddy, his daughter’s voice swept through him.

No! he tried to shout, but instead his tongue snaked out, tasting Emma’s warm nectar… No, even though this was not really Emma, he would not taste this pussy. He wouldn’t, he… it wasn’t Emma, it was… it was… It tasted so right, her young body so fucking delicious, just as Alana’s mouth swirling saliva all around his cock was delicious, pulling on him with expert finesse with her cheeks...

Oh God, he’d always known that Alana would give incredible head. She’d been straight before Cindy bent her the other way and he’d been dying to fuck her for months. He’d wanted to bang his daughter since she was fourteen, and had fantasized about giving Cindy a good hard poke long before he even met her, her siren internet photos calling out to him through his computer monitor, getting him so hard…

“Fuck!” he managed to shout into the pussy poised in front of his lips. This was not Emma! This wasn’t Alana sucking his cock! And these weren’t his thoughts! It was all MagicThunder, invading his perceptions, twisting them, turning three young women he didn’t know into the three that were the most important to him now. And he was being made to wish for things, things he would never allow himself to wish for.

“Don’t be silly, Anthony,” he heard the Cindy stand-in say, her voice seductive, playful. “You’ve wished for this dozens of times. You know you have.”

As if on cue, Emma moved her pussy aside and he looked up the length of Cindy’s gorgeous-beyond-gorgeous body, standing over top of him, her feet planted beside his hips. It wasn’t really Cindy, it was not the real Cindy looking down with that teasing smile and narrowed eyes, the same eyes that bewitched him in her photos, with that “oh would you die and go to heaven if you ever got hold of this” smile that kept the credit cards charging, that seemed to take the wonders of her sex-goddess body and gift-wrap them for his throbbing cock, tying a bow around his balls, making them ache, making him want her so badly. She was too gorgeous, so fucking gorgeous that it wasn’t even fair.

“No, it isn’t fair at all, is it Anthony? So many times you’ve wanted me to reach out and relieve the pressure, to stroke your hardness, to grab the fever you feel and pull it right out through your cock. You want me to stand here and surround you with wet heat, bringing you inside of this body, deep inside where you know I can do things you’ve never even imagined, the kinds of things I’ve done for Lance, and Emma, and Alana…”

“Everyone… but me,” he whispered, or was made to whisper.

“You want me.”

“Yes!”

“You want Alana.”

“Yes.”

“You want Emma.”

“N…no.”

“Oh yes, you do. Don’t lie.”

“No! I…”

“You want to fuck us until we’re delirious, Anthony. All of us.”

It wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair. Alana’s sucking intensified, and now Emma was crawling over him, through Cindy’s spread legs, and oh no, Alana released his dick, backing away, making room for Emma to squat over him, her pussy so inviting, and so open…

“N…nooo…” he moaned.

With her back to him, his daughter/not-daughter lowered herself down, slipping her slit over his cockhead like a snug, wet, glorious glove. He tried to move again, tried to even shut his eyes, and failed. And so he watched, watched Emma begin to rock on her haunches, her huge breasts visible even from the back, her ass so beautifully shaped, her tight sopping pussy coating him, beginning to slip up and down. I am not fucking my daughter! he tried to reassure himself, but his perceptions disagreed, his dick sliding in and out of a girl who looked just like Emma, panting in Emma’s voice, her fucking glorious pussy probably feeling exactly as his daughter’s pussy would feel, MagicThunder hitting him with every detail, making it like the real thing, making it almost true…

He tried to keep from enjoying it. He tried to will his dick into not loving the feel of her slipping and sliding, twisting her body for additional friction, fucking him like an expert, fucking him like some young whore…

“Cindy” laughed maliciously and hopped off the bed, moving out of his line of sight. Alana reappeared, standing, positioning her cunt in front of his daughter’s face. He couldn’t see Emma’s tongue reaching out, licking Alana’s slit while she reamed herself with his rod, but the fluttering of Alana’s eyes told him, showed her pleasure, the two beauties so connected, so hot…

“Fuck Emma until she’s delirious, Anthony,” Cindy commanded.

“No! I…”

“Fuck her!”

“No… Iyyyooohhhhh!” he cried out, Emma’s pussy suddenly slipping up and down his pole faster, the walls of her pussy squeezing. She began to moan loudly, expressing her own surge of passion.

“You will fuck us all!” Cindy commanded, and he came as she spoke, shooting deep into Emma, feeling her pussy spasm inside, her head thrown back, her mouth open to vent her own silent orgasm.

Oh God forgive me, he thought.

“She isn’t delirious yet, Anthony,” Cindy teased, and he felt his cock instantly recover, the pressure back as though his release had never happened.

“N…no…”

“Fuck her!”

His hips bucked, although he didn’t think he was making them move. His still-hard cock slammed into Emma, slammed hard so that she yelped, and then screamed, and then begged for him to go faster, to plunge in deeper…

She came again. And again. Her body was going wild above him, Alana holding onto Emma’s big tits now, squeezing them and feeling the flesh surge as Emma shook, and dipped, and he felt like he was just getting harder, and thicker, filling Emma to capacity as he fucking jackhammered her cunt, his dick plunging in and out like somebody had put a string of quarters into a magic dick machine.

Emma came. Emma came again, and he just kept pumping, helpless to stop, until her head lolled to the right, her upper body following, and she toppled to the side, lights out and nobody home.

“My turn!” Alana/Tawny cried, leaping onto his dick.

Unlike Emma, Alana faced him, squatting above and using her strong legs to mirror his bucking hips with her own up/down motions. He should be tired, he should be practically crippled with a softened or bruised dick, but he miraculously, automatically pumped away, watching her tight muscles ripple, watching her pussy meet everything he was dishing out, watching her hands descend to finger her clit, her expression shifting, her breasts flushing red.

“Oh Yesss!” she screamed, her legs unbending, her body defying gravity as her legs swung out to the side, hands grasping ankles yoga-like, her pelvis bobbing her pussy up and down his pole like she was some kind of lighter than air bouncy toy.

And then she began to spin, slowly, familiarly, MagicThunder conducting a new kind of spin-job.

“Ahhhhhhhhhh!” the girl who looked like Alana cried, her voice coming and going in volume as she revolved. He felt her pussy spasm, felt her explode over and over, and he couldn’t understand why he wasn’t doing the same. The pressure in his dick was off the charts, his eyes bugging out. He had to cum, he had to fucking cum, oh fuck why wasn’t he cumming?

Alana spun right off of him, her rear bouncing twice on the bed before she fell to the floor, her limbs all akimbo.

“I knew you could fuck them senseless,” Cindy/not Cindy purred. “Which only leaves me, and I’m the one you want the most, aren’t I?”

He fought to ignore her, his cock on fire like a hot drill bit. He felt like he could explode spontaneously, shooting a load that would blast a hole in the ceiling.

Answer me! he heard deep inside his brain in Cindy’s voice. You’ve wanted to fuck Cindy for months!

His mouth opened to answer, but he resisted, his lips contorting, his tongue feeling thick…

She hopped onto the bed again, this girl who was not really Cindy, standing over top of him, putting a foot on his abdomen like a conqueror.

You’re making me annngryyy… she spoke into his mind, her eyes burning, her blonde hair beginning to move as though a hot wind was gusting through the room, originating from her growing fury and the intensity of her desire to fuck him good.

You’re a juvenile pathetic cunt! he thought as loudly as a thought could be thought, and almost without skipping a beat, the girl he saw as Cindy leaned down to smack the side of his face with the back of her hand.

It was really MagicThunder getting angry, he reminded himself, not this falsely-perceived teenager standing in for Cindy. He wondered whether there was some way to make MagicThunder slip up, to get her so pissed-off that she lost her focus, abandoning her pussy-puppet to give him a good slug herself. He couldn’t fight her if he couldn’t find her, and…

“Oh fuck!” he whispered, feeling his body beginning to lift horizontally off the mattress, his cock almost racing into “Cindy’s” grip. She shoved his hardness inside of herself as she threw her body onto his, hugging him tight, thrusting her tongue into his mouth.

And then they began to rotate in the air like rotisserie lovers, his cock going in and out of her with a weird kind of centrifugal thrust.

“Ahhhhh!” he cried as their velocity increased, his cheeks feeling like they were flying out from his gums, long blonde hair whipping at his face. The details of the room became a blur, the cum backed up in his cock feeling like it was being whipped, fucking frappe’d.

“Anthony!” he heard Cindy shout in alarm, and he felt something smacking him, a rough turbulence interrupting his flight. With a slosh of sound he was thrust away, his back and buttocks smacking flat against a wall. He thought he saw Cindy holding Cindy, comforting her, as he dropped to the floor.

Alana’s attention kept wandering as she studied the images from yesterday’s photo/fuck session. The jpegs were incredibly hot, maybe too hot. She couldn’t help feeling damp between her legs as she scrolled through the photos of herself, floating in the air, and Cindy standing there with the bearing of a nude orchestra conductor. She wasn’t worried that visitors to the Website would actually believe in the magical nature of the sex — though it was beyond her own modest skills, a masterful Photoshop practitioner could easily paste together images like this. No, the problem lay in finding images where Emma could be effectively cropped out of the action. As gorgeous as Emma was, and with a body to draw in even more subscribers with a taste for huge breasts, Cindy would never allow Emma’s image to appear on the Website, not when the still-stricken girl couldn’t give her consent in any meaningful way.

She giggled softly, just imagining Tony going all apeshit in his NYPD way, if he clicked onto the Website and saw his daughter there, a head planted between her legs. He knew that Cindy and Emma went at it regularly, but did he know that Cindy allowed Emma to be shared every blue moon?

She surveyed the images from the end of the shoot, focusing on a shot where all three of them were poised to explode. Clicking on the magnification tool, she zeroed in on Emma’s face, seen almost in profile. Just look at that open mouth, at those lips, so full, glistening in the colored lights. She scrolled down, like a traveler mapping every bit of Emma’s body. The terrain made her lick her lips, and her mouth wasn’t the only thing getting wet. Just look at the size of those mighty breasts, nipples extended. Just look at that tight abdomen, and those hipbones, and there, catching the colored lights, the downy reddish hairs above Emma’s constantly needy pussy.

She looked up past the computer monitor, to the loft bed across the room. She could only see one of Emma’s hands up there, dangling off the edge of the mattress. She was sleeping on her belly, her breasts compressed. Emma only thought about sex — did she dream about it, too? Her pussy was probably in contact with the sheets, making a spot on the bed, a zone of female fragrance. Getting the sheets damp. Making the sleeping area smell just right, but not for sleeping.

Go up there and lay on top of her, a thought surfaced. Her pussy ached from the thought, so much so that she had to squeeze her thighs together, hard. No, no, she couldn’t go up there and wake Emma. Cindy had done some special thing to put Emma to sleep. Emma was in her apartment as a form of protection, not as an object of temptation.

She looked back at the computer screen, but her mind wasn’t in the work. She could see herself quietly climbing up the ladder, straddling Emma’s prone body and lowering herself down, Emma’s firm round ass pushing into her middle, their bodies fitting together just right. She liked that about Emma, that she wasn’t too tall. With their pussies aligned, they could easily hug nipple to nipple, her own pert breasts almost disappearing into the greater mass of Emma’s incredible tits.

She’s dripping on the sheets. Go up there and lick her dry.

What a crazy thought! As though Emma’s velvety cunny would become anything but a wetlands area if she began to touch it, her tongue gently dabbing, her hands grasping the tops of Emma’s thighs, squeezing, her tongue licking and flicking, Emma’s fragrance wetting the skin around her mouth and the bottom of her nose. Turning her on. Making her lose any sense of restraint.

It isn’t fair that Cindy gets to fuck Emma anytime she wants.

True, but a necessary arrangement. Alana didn’t mind sharing Cindy with Emma, but she sometimes wished that she could dictate their lovemaking schedule more often. She had to defer to Emma’s greater needs at times, waiting patiently for her turn. Waiting, and aching, and dripping, and wanting.

And sometimes aching for Emma as much as Cindy. Or sometimes... even more.

Like she wanted to climb that ladder right now, and rub her hot body all over Emma’s back, waking her, switching her on. Emma was something like a freight train with an inexhaustible supply of fuel once she got heated up, to the point that Cindy surmised that the afflicted girl could and might have fucked herself to death if she hadn’t been found, her appetites psychically managed.

Maybe the real danger was that she would fuck someone else to death.

She hissed softly, imagining it, imagining switching Emma on, no psychic restraints, her awesome body on a mission, her lips and tongue and pussy indefatigable. Fucking for hours. Fucking for days. Living for a single purpose, to get off, and get Alana off, over and over and over, as much as she could take. Maybe even more than she could take. What a fucking way to go.

She stood, her heart beating loudly, and began pacing. She needed to stop thinking about getting it on with Emma. She needed to put those glorious tits out of her mind, and ignore how wet she was.

But she couldn’t ignore it, the tingling in her pussy was more like a strain, or a pull, like a rubber-band being stretched too taught. The strain had to be eased, or she might snap.

Masturbate, she definitely needed to masturbate. She could draw a bath, and light some candles, easing into the action, the bathroom door closed so that her moans wouldn’t awaken Emma.

Go up there and finger Emma’s slit instead.

No, she couldn’t…

Go!

No, that would be the worst thing she could do. Yes, she wanted to feel Emma’s tongue curling and slipping inside of her, but tampering with the fragile state Cindy had worked so hard to maintain could be disastrous.

She found herself at the foot of the ladder, staring at Emma’s limp hand. Something wasn’t right, she’d thought she was walking to the bathroom, not here under the bed. She turned her head in the direction of the bathroom, but the will to walk away simply wasn’t there.

She looked back up at Emma’s hand. Two fingers, that was what she loved the most. Two of Emma’s fingers stuffed inside and wiggling, the lining of her pussy stretched, a tongue feathering her clitoris, just the faintest little dabs, almost like there was nothing there to be making her feel so good, so excited.

She climbed three rungs, one for each finger and then the tongue she was dying for, just enough that she could see all of Emma’s body lying there uncovered. She was on her front, her breasts inspiringly squeezed out beyond the width of her torso, legs spread wide. And the hand that wasn’t dangling off the edge of the bed was pressed against her pussy. Keeping it warm? Protecting it?

A slow, almost imperceptible movement of Emma’s fingers gave the answer. Teasing herself in slow motion, perhaps dreaming. Maybe even dreaming of her.

She put one foot out to climb down, but didn’t. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the sight of Emma’s hand between her legs. Resting an elbow on the mattress edge, Alana brought her free hand down between her own thighs, and slipped two fingers inside.

She sucked in air, barely able to believe how needy she felt, how insanely sensitive. She slowly scissored her fingers, trembling on the ladder, concentrating hard to hold on and remain silent. This was crazy, masturbating in such a precarious position, but she knew she couldn’t stop now that she had started. She began to gyrate slowly, brushing her nipples against the mahogany sideboard, feeling them become almost as hard as the wood as she kept her eyes fixed on the slow movements of Emma’s teasing hand.

So beautiful in sleep. Such silky thighs, glistening wet. And she was so wet, too, her body so awake by contrast, the speed of her teasing so fast, her mind so painfully aware of her longing.

“Ahhh!” she whispered, her fingers dancing so deliciously inside, striking a chord. “Oh no!” she cried more loudly, as Emma rolled over, staring right into her eyes. Awake. Aware.

“Mmmmmmnnn…” Emma moaned.

“I was just… checking on you,” Alana lied, her eyes locking onto Emma’s prodigious breasts, so full, so creamy. Broad wrinkle patterns from the sheets created criss-cross patterns into their roundness, like canals on Mars.

Or dripping hot love channels on Venus.

Oh God, yes… Alana ached to reach out, to smooth out the lines with her palms, rubbing and stroking every inch of those massive breasts back into shape.

A different look entered Emma’s eyes, her pupils flashing. Alana could see Emma’s lips growing fuller as lust seemed to infuse every pore. It was like watching a caterpillar become a sexual butterfly in a span of seconds, and their hands reached out in unison, their fingers meeting, and beckoning, and agreeing.

Only she couldn’t, she just couldn’t! “I… I can’t, Emma,” she whispered, but it was already too late and she knew it. Emma grasped her hand below the wrist and pulled, and Alana was up on the mattress above the beautiful girl, her breaths coming in gulps, her pussy ablaze, her lips seeking out Emma’s nipples as though drawn by gravity itself, pulled to the roundness of those divine breasts, attracted by their mass, her reservations irrelevant, her resistance squashed by the needs of her body and the feeling of rightness, absolute rightness in taking a swollen nipple between her lips, her tongue tracing its texture, feeling its warmth, her lips beginning to suck, her pussy sizzling hot.

“Oh God I love you,” Emma whispered, her hands on Alana’s cheeks, pulling her head up so their mouths could meet, their tongues circling, their bodies fitting together like interlocking pieces of a puzzle, breast to breast, navel to navel, hipbones pressing, wet on wet.

I can’t be doing this! Alana thought as Emma flipped her over, taking control, ending the kiss only to smother her face with a giant breast, a hand squeezing the flesh of her right thigh, sweeping up to brush against her heat, pausing to press, and stroke, and dabble.

How did this happen? she asked inside, but it didn’t matter how it had happened. There was only the now, only the moment, her body surrendering, her pussy opening to Emma’s fingers, pushing their way inside. She sucked on the breast above, reveled in its weight, her hands reaching down to squeeze Emma’s thighs.

The huge pressing breast moved down, Emma repositioning her body, turning to plant her head between Alana’s legs as fragrant heat was brought to her waiting lips.

Alana’s tongue reached up, seeking, desiring, darting inside, her open mouth crying out as two fingers slipped inside her own molten tunnel, so far away down there yet sending chills everywhere. The tip of Emma’s tongue began to stroke her clitoris, setting her ablaze, making her entire body gasp. Oh God, oh yes, eat and be eaten, give and be taken, die over and over again and be given life, and energy, and release…

“I love you!” Emma cried into her cunt, the words resonating so deeply, filling her body with sound and feeling.

“Oh God, I love you too!” Alana answered into slippery wetness, her words turned into liquid heat.

So wrong, but so right. So necessary. Primal. Real. Overwhelming. Love. Life.

He was bumping, bumpity bump bump bump. The whole world was shaking and moving, something vibrating against the top of his head.

His head ached, his shoulder hurt, and his dick felt drained like he’d fucked a whole squad of cheerleaders, and maybe some furry mascots, too. He slowly opened one eye, saw grey sky framed by a car window, dark tree limbs moving by fast.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“In your car,” Cindy answered. “We’re somewhere in Brooklyn, hopefully on the way to the Williamsburg Bridge. We have to get back to Manhattan to check on Lance, and Alana and Emma. There was something on the radio about an incident at the Hammerhead Bar last night, Anthony. I've tried to call Lance on both his phones but no one is answering. I’m really worried.”

He was lying in the back, his feet propped on the headrest of the passenger seat. “What the fuck happened?” he asked, raising his head and torso into something approximating a sitting position.

“MagicThunder got in the room with you is what happened,” Cindy answered, glancing back over her shoulder. “I don’t understand it! I was in front of the door the whole time!”

Tony winced as the car jolted through a pothole. They were in one of Brooklyn’s low-rise neighborhoods “How did we get out of the dorms?” he asked.

Cindy didn’t answer, turning on the wipers as the rain began to come down again. “The rain is beginning to fall as sleet,” she commented. “The temperature is dropping.”

“Cindy, tell me what kind of scene we left back there.”

“You should rest and clear your head.”

“You aren’t answering my question. What kind of scene did we leave? How are the three girls? How did we get out of there?”

“You know exactly what the scene was like!” she exploded. “Michelle and Tawny were crumpled like rag dolls on the bed and floor, and Sherri was practically velcroed to your body when I burst through the door. You were corkscrewing her in the air as though the two of you were conducting sex research in a wind tunnel!”

“MagicThunder… took control of me,” he muttered, rubbing at his temples. “She made me… do things.”

“She made you experience fucking Alana, and me. She made you experience fucking your daughter.”

He started to ask her how she knew that, but then stopped himself. Of course she knew. “Fuck, did she get away? Did you at least see her?”

“I think I felt her brush past me while I tried to get you and Sherri out of the air. I would have gone after her but the dean and his pack of legal heavies rushed into the room.”

“Oh fuck!”

“They were not happy with the state of things, as you can imagine.”

“So you… Oh no. What did you do?”

“Everything was completely messed up, Anthony! The girls aren’t cured, or at least I can’t imagine they are. I had everything going so well, and I know you could have managed things if MagicThunder hadn’t intervened. But as things are, the girls might even be worse off than when we arrived!”

“What did you do with the administrators? Are we in trouble?”

“We aren’t in trouble.”

“You mc’d them, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did!”

“How? What did you do, Cindy?”

“The four men will wake up peacefully with the three girls, unless somebody walks into the room. I made the men strip out of their clothes and cum all over themselves, then I put them to sleep. They won’t remember us, and neither will the girls. And the lawyers will be so freaked to have their semen in the room that they’ll bury the entire event. I don’t see how we can go back to try again, but no one can come after us, I swear.”

He rubbed his throbbing temples and then raised himself to put his mouth near her ear, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Look, we need to have a serious talk. You can do more than you’ve been letting on, can’t you?”

“Looks like heavy traffic leading to the bridge. But I finally see the entrance up ahead.”

“This is ridiculous,” he sighed, awkwardly crawling over the seats into the front of the car. He took up an unfamiliar position in the passenger seat, his back against the window. “Talk to me, Cindy. We both know what happened back there MagicThunder-wise, but you’re keeping me in the dark about the extent of your abilities. What are you planning to do, let one new fact drip out every week? How does that help us in our quest? Give me the fucking facts, so I can help!”

She glanced at him, her expression stubborn, returning her concentration to the traffic.

“I thought it was difficult for you to control men,” he said. “I thought it wiped you out. What else can you do that I don’t know? A lot? A little? How much in the fucking dark am I here?”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not yelling! Fuck, I am yelling. It’s because I’m still spinning and I’m pissed.”

“I can do a lot, Anthony.”

“Christ, I should have known. A little lot or a whole lot? Tell me.”

He saw her jaw tighten, but then it relaxed, and she took her focus off the road to look him in the eye. “I can do… just about anything,” she admitted.

“Anything? What does that mean?”

“She made me a lot like her, Anthony. I don’t… I mean I don’t use it. Much. Hardly at all. It scares me to think what I might be capable of, so I don’t… But when I’ve tried something, to see if I can… I usually can. The only really difficult thing is fixing the damage that MagicThunder has caused in others. It’s like there’s this barrier, or an extra layer in people’s minds that I have fight through to unlock.”

“JesusfuckingChrist! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I know it sounds lame, but I’m sorry, really. I thought you’d be afraid that I’d become someone like her, ready to go off, like I was some kind of ticking time-bomb. I worry about that. I worry about that a lot.”

“Losing control and becoming like MagicThunder?”

“No, not that, not unless she makes it happen like she did last summer. I worry that people would fear me. I’m not a bad person, Anthony. I wouldn’t… It was all a fantasy, I never thought it could become real! But it doesn’t even matter now. I haven’t told anyone until right now. No one knows. I didn’t even know at first.”

“Lance doesn’t know?”

“No, but he suspects, from what we’ve… I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Alana doesn’t know?”

“She knows some… but not really. MagicThunder does, of course. She made me this way, for whatever reasons.”

Unfuckingbelievable. To approach the almost unimaginable powers of MagicThunder, without confiding in him…

He felt his dick harden and it ached, it ached like a dick that had gotten more use in two days than it had in the last ten years. He realized that he couldn’t help it, though, he couldn’t help being turned on by the thought of what she could do.

Too many emotions rushed through him all at once, and he rolled down his window to let the wind and rain cool his face, blowing his previous conceptions out into the thick air. All of this time, keeping a secret like that bottled up. All of this time, Cindy had been doing the most difficult work, the work where she often failed, rather than getting off on her powers the way MagicThunder did. And all of this time, he’d been thinking that they didn’t stand a chance against MagicThunder, that they had no effective weapons to fight back with.

He rolled his window up, accepting the new reality. He was upset, pissed-off… But he’d been that way for months, dulling his brain with scotch because he’d felt so angry and frustrated. Now, for the first time in a very long time, he felt a glimmer of real hope.

“Could you take her on, Cindy? Head to head, so to speak — if we could get the two of you in a confined space…”

“It almost happened this afternoon, Anthony. If I hadn’t needed to deal with those stupid lawyers… I can’t become invisible, or walk through fucking walls — I don’t understand how she’s doing all of that, it doesn’t even make sense! But could I take her down? Yes, I think I could. I could put up one hell of a fight, and maybe even win. It’s what I’ve been wanting for months, the chance to put a stop to all of this. Maybe she thought she was creating another monster when she gave me these abilities, but what she really created is a worthy opponent. I think I could kick her juvenile ass.”

“I thought… All of this time, I’ve thought we were on a fucking suicide mission.”

“I know. You’re a brave man.”

“Pull over here, will you? Let me get some aspirin, unless you can reach into my head and cure my headache.”

She smiled, in that incredibly sexy way of hers, her eyes bright. In that one open glance, he could see that they were on new ground together.

“Go get your aspirin, Anthony. But hurry.”

“And I’ll drive, okay? Navigating through the city is something I can do with my eyes closed, and you’re…”

“Lost without you,” she laughed, pulling up to the curb.

“Cindy?” he said, as he got out.

“Yes?”

“After you’ve kicked MagicThunder’s ass? I owe her a couple of slaps to the face, and I’m going to want to take them.”

“No problem, Anthony. I’ll save a piece of her for you. I’ll save a piece of her for everybody.”