Curiously, even Dr. Vargas was not aware of the scale of the orgy he had inadvertently incited. Dr. Vargas, having contributed as much semen to the purpose of profligate procreation as prudently possible, attempted to extricate himself from the bookstore with his clothes on -- fighting off a gaggle of suburban matrons caught up in the reproductive frenzy. At that moment, however, the manager of the bookstore was moved to begin reading from her favorite passages of "Judith and Me" on the bookstore's public address system, arousing the astonished onlookers even more.
By coincidence, word spread to a gathering of feminist scholars meeting at the nearby Upper Knocksville Convention Center who called the police. This failed to redress the situation, however, since by the time two impressionable young policewomen arrived, scores of women had joined the orgy and were braying to be impregnated. The policewomen themselves were soon bent over the bookstore sales counter, eagerly taking rapid-fire cumloads and pleading to be made mommies by a line of men now flocking to the bookstore from every corner of the city.
Accounts of events after this point are unclear, but one eyewitness (a former professor of Militant Feminist Literature and a new mother of triplets, speaking on condition of anonymity) recalls the outrage of the 250-odd middle-aged grrrls at the Convention Center when they heard of an orgy in progress. When someone else informed them that their nemesis, the notorious Homer Vargas himself was involved, anger in the auditorium boiled over in a spontaneous decision to rush the adjacent bookstore. The orgasmic melee in front of the bookstore had by them spread across several blocks and the feminist scholars were instantly immersed in a formidable frenzy of frenetic fornication. Soon the sexed-up scholars were shucking their dowdy clothes and grabbing any man they could find (including a pleased group of troglodyte males who had come to protest the feminist conclave), humping them urgently and begging to be made pregnant.
As the eyewitness was being interviewed in the back of a bus transporting the wrestling team of Upper Knocksville University, her frumpy skirt hiked up around her waist, her clunky clogs in the air, and a line of well-hung studs with 'cocks like truncheons' queuing to fill her cunt, she was unable to shed further light on the situation (beyond bewilderment at her current status as a forty-two-year old single mother of triplets--one white, one black, and one Hispanic).
Your reporter can herself testify to the power of the strange ambiance, as she had no sooner arrived at the bookstore, pencil and note pad in hand, than she found herself on her back (the first time, anyway), panties around her ankles and her pussy being pounded by a burly maintenance worker. To her best recollection, her baby looks a lot like his father, although not so black.
Medical investigators, piecing together the accounts afterward, have explained the incident as a kind of endocrinal chain reaction, as the high levels of pheromones from the steamy cunts of the first group of listeners was communicated to other women, now hearing the Vargas narration on the loudspeakers. Experts speculate their quims reacted sympathetically to the twin stimuli, producing an extraordinary high concentration of the lust inducing hormones in the air. As frantic copulation began, a perverse feedback loop was established, whereby more and more women went into heat and opportunistic men appeared to breed them.
