She knew it was going to happen. Soon. She could feel it growing inside her chest, swelling her 44-EE breasts to even greater stature. It gnawed at her thighs, teasing her higher and higher. She cast a glance at her assortment of dildos and vibrators. Useless; nothing but flesh would satisfy the Hunger.
* * * *
It was another night in New Orleans. Only colder. Autumn was knocking loudly at the doors of the Big Sleazy. Morgan wrapped his coat a bit tighter around his slender frame as he strolled down Decatur Street. The air was not as foul smelling as it normally was, which was not saying much. The familiar stenches of mule shit, human vomit and stale beer still clung to life... but it moved much more slowly, filling nostrils over a much greater timespan. Time enough to forget.
Which was all Morgan wanted. Forget he ever wanted to come to New Orleans. Forget Nina. Forget having his love torn from him. Forget everything. Work. Happiness.
But his mind was Awake. Empath. For him, there was never such a thing as forgetting. His mind remembered every emotion... real or false... it ever experienced. His nights were nothing short of torment and sadness. Yet he still rose each morning. Still went to work. Still remembered. Yet even as he accepted this he knew how to gain a Moment of Peace. If only...
He watched the plump woman for more than two minutes. Something about seemed... desperate. She was Hunting. He knew the look well. Uncontrolled lust. But there was something else. Something infinitely more primal. It was her lush lips that gave her away. The slight tremble was not from the cold; her thin dress... stylishly cut for a big woman... was proof of that. No; she was on edge. Morgan glanced around, looking for cops or anyone with that odd look in their eye... like they were waiting for something to go down. No one. Then he extended his senses.
Confusion. Something was not right. Where were they? Anticipation. Eagerness. Longing. The Hunger.
Smiling slowly, Morgan walked over to her.
* * * *
She caught sight of movement. A male. Tall. Thin. No... slender. But there was something in his eyes. Something... familiar. The Hunger was making her sloppy. He could be a cop.
He smiled... and she knew. He wanted her. He knew the Hunger. Maybe it held sway over him as well. Smiling, she extended one hand. And surrendered.
* * * *
Morgan was pleased she had a car. He sat silently, letting the soothing music... trance... caress his mind. The woman was definitely horny. Totally in the thrall of the Hunger. He placed her age at around fifty... based solely on the last flicker in her eyes before the Hunger took her completely. An automatic, Morgan was not surprised when she slid one hand over his left leg. Her destination was clear... and he shifted to give her access. He pondered her choice of music as she unzipped his cargo pants with practiced ease. He raised an eyebrow just a hair, his mind slowly adding together pieces of this and that. Hints and guesses... borne out by simple observation.
He returned the favor, sliding his hand across the dress... real silk by the feel. Again with ease she shifted, lifting the thin dress up her round thighs. Her hand, having found his surprisingly hard member, began slowly moving just over the tip. He smiled as he caressed her thigh. All too soon, however, they had arrived.
He looked around. Twice. He was no more than five blocks from his own small apartment!! More... her house was on the corner that served as a bus stop. He nodded, feeling the Beast stir from its slumber finally. Almost immediately it scented her arousal... and in the next instant was in firm control over Morgan as he exited the car.
* * * *
She did not turn on the hallway lights. She knew where everything was. She had done this countless times before. Always now. Always with pleasure. Always for a fee. Not tonight. And this one was... different. He had a Soul. A bright, shining thing that refused to let the virus of the streets eat it away slowly. She locked the door, flinging her keys onto the nightstand she knew was over there. The sound as they slid to a halt... clinking against the glass ashtray... was just something else in her ordinary day. Just... there. This was something different. He was something different.
And he took her.
* * * *
The deep growl rumbled through his chest with more power than he'd known possible. And still it was not at its peak. Still it rose, filling his arms and legs with power and energy. His eyes saw her form. More round than he was used to, but certainly not disgusting. The silk dress flowed easily over her body, teasing the growing Hunger within her. She knew something was different. Not that Morgan cared. All that mattered was forgetting. Forgetting everything... and dumping it into her.
By scent he marked her. One step. Another. He lashed out, sinking his teeth into the folds of her neck. His hands gripped her breasts, squeezing the flesh just hard enough to warn her. Once he started... he would not stop. She would get pleasure... but the chase would be long. Hard. And she surrendered completely, her hands flying to his waist.
