Chapter 12
A middle aged man with salt and pepper hair and a five hundred dollar suit spoke into a microphone with the grim look of a news correspondent in the middle of a war zone. Behind him people cavorted inside a heavy layer of smoke. Brief flashes of naked bodies were visible from the flickering of thousands of small fires "Disorderly conduct, public nudity, and sexual depravity on a scale unheard of since the days of Sodom and Gomorrah. This is Mitch Miller reporting from ground zero of one of the most heinous acts of terrorism in our nation's history. The mysterious blue blast that shook the city at 5:13 am seems to have caused some form of mass hysteria with those caught in its wave giving in to unbridled hedonistic displays.
"Little is known at this time about the cause of the blast, but a group called 'Fornicatio Solemnitas,' I hope I'm pronouncing that right, is taking credit for the explosion. They have called it the 'Incubus Wave' and it is believed to usher in the coming of a new age of eroticism. The blast could be seen in Albuquerque and the strange blue radiation covered almost a square mile causing millions in property damage. This story is still breaking and we will update the public as details emerge here in Soldier's Post. Back to you Chet," the feed cut and the reporter looked at the camera man, "Did that look good?"
"Yeah, Mitch, it looked great from here."
He loosened his tie and handed his microphone of to the sound tech. "We had this guy in my home town used to threaten to put LSD in the water supply. I bet this is something like that."
"That's an urban myth, my town has the same guy. We called him Acid Andy. He was like a chemistry genius and made acid as a side hustle. The cops busted him one day, but before they nabbed him he ran through a golf course as the sprinklers started. The acid in his shirt pocket bled into his skin. Like two hundred hits of acid at once. He was never the same after that." the camera man retorted. Mitch chuckled at the story.
"That was in SLC Punk," the sound man chimed in.
"I heard about Acid Andy way before SLC Punk," the camera man shot back.
The sound guy raised his hands in surrender, "sure dude, whatever."
A woman moved slowly towards the crew, she was dressed in a light blue skirt hiked up high enough to reveal her lack of underwear. Her light blue blouse was shredded revealing large heaving breasts as the fabric fluttered in the breeze. She smiled at Mitch from behind him and pulled what was left of her shirt away from her body. "Hey Mitch," the camera man warned.
He turned and she locked lips with him. He pulled away and was about to scream at her about him being a happily married man, but something about the taste of her kiss stopped him. He looked at her and felt his cock stir. She was younger than him, not by much maybe 35 to his 45, but enough that she was still a delectable piece of ass. That was the phrase that flitted past his brain, piece of ass. She was thicker than his wife, but that made her infinitely more sensual than the woman he married.
He pawed at her fat tit as his other hand found the opposite ass cheek. The woman moaned into the reporter while the sound and camera guys watched on dumbstruck. "Dude, Mitch, what are you doing?" The camera man asked him.
The woman broke away from the kiss. Mitch raised his hand from her breast to her neck to pull her closer and gently bite the smooth tanned flesh there. She looked at the camera man with sultry sex glazed eyes. Her eyes scanned from him to the camera. "Film it," she said as Mitch found a good spot and she closed her eyes lost in the sensation before turning back to kiss him. Her hands pulled at the reporter's belt and pulled it open. She moved frantically as she let him free and pulled him into her sex. She had to get on her tiptoes to match his height and wrapped her other leg around his thigh opening herself up further.
The camera man felt the strangest sensation as her words wove their way into his brain. He never liked to watch, he never liked strip clubs or porn. When his friends goaded him into going to a strip club he only looked the dancers in the eyes without so much as a glance at their bodies and kept his hands to himself. It wasn't that he didn't like sex, he respected women and didn't want to objectify them. Her words were changing him. He found himself letting his eyes linger from her foot on the asphalt trying to stabilized her on the ball. His gaze traced up her tensed calf to her glutes and lingered at her ass. He felt his dick getting hard as he glimpsed Mitch's fat cock disappear into her wetness with tantalizing glimpses of the base of his shaft as it moved in and out, in and out. The camera man's mouth hung open and he suddenly remembered the camera and the woman's demand. He rubbed his jeans over his cock and lifted the camera to his shoulder. Voyeur was the word that wove into his identity. He was a voyeur. He liked to watch.
The sound man watched the scene in horror. He couldn't put his finger on what was happening, but the dedicated family man and the chaste director of photography seemed to change in front of his eyes. The sound man threw his gear into the van and closed the back before driving as far away from the strange woman for fear of what she might say to him.
* * *
Noami ran towards Collodi's complex as soon as she saw the blast. She was almost to the door when the blue wave hit her. It looked like the whole world was washed in blue for several seconds. Her body tingled and sang to her and she couldn't help but pinch one of her pierced nipples. She had already had so much sex throughout the last few days, but the wave renewed her vigor and her hunger. She put her hand against a wall to support herself as multiple orgasms hit her at once. The wave of orgasms did nothing to satiate her new desires. She needed dick. Key was at the forefront of her thoughts as she ran to the building and he was the object of her hunger. Everything in her body screamed out in need for her man.
The compound was in shambles, most of the exterior walls were blown out and the interior ones didn't fare much better. There were the remnants of rooms and the beds seemed more or less intact in the former bordello. The whole compound seemed empty and quiet as she explored each hallway looking for Key. She got excited when she saw a shoulder around the next turn, but felt let down when she saw a red-headed woman in a green track suit standing still with her legs about a shoulder width apart and her head down. Across from her she saw Hotspur's girl naked in a similar position. They were both breathing but were other-wise motionless. She was curious but her need to fuck overrode her curiosity.
She found what she a bashed in door and inside Hotspur, a young girl, and Key all unconscious except for Hotspur who looked dead. Noami ran to Key's side, "Baby!" She wanted to straddle him there in that grotesque room with at least two dead bodies and the smell of death all around them. It took all her strength to stop herself. We should at least find a bed, she thought to herself.
Key groaned and cracked his eyes open. He smiled as his eyes found her face. The peaceful expression was short-lived as Key darted up to check on Hotspur and Elise. He checked Elise's pulse, "Good, she's alive," he quickly looked at Hotspur. He seemed to have shrunk significantly. He retained the wounds, but lost all the mass. "I'm sorry Cody," Key said a quick prayer over his body and brushed his thumb over the young man's forehead.
"Marty," Noami said in almost a whisper. Her body was shaking from desire. "I need you."
"What's wrong?" He stood and held her in his arms.
She melted into him and let her hands rest on his svelte chest. She inhaled his musk and smelled the sex on him. She let out a ragged breath, "I want you so bad, God I don't remember ever wanting anyone so bad in my life."
Key kissed her quickly before explaining, "It's the Incubus Wave, it's making you really horny right now, but it should pass."
"How long?"
"Two, maybe three days."
"Shit, I don't think I can take this for three days. I feel like I'm crawling out of my skin. Can we go somewhere and fuck, please!" Noami pleaded and Key nodded and led her out the room. They quickly found a room and Key's pants were off in seconds. She sat back on the bed as she took his cock in her mouth. One hand played with his balls, while the other found her overheated clit. Key's eyes rolled back and his head dropped back as he moaned. His hands luxuriated in the sensation of the short hair around her pink reverse mohawk. He gently pulled her away and she shot him a frustrated look until he shoved her to her back on the bed. He smiled and shook his head as he got onto the bed and moved on top of her. Their hands roamed all over each others bodies as they slowly fucked. She kept trying to pull him in tighter and closer if only for an extra millimeter of length inside her.
Key could feel the stress on his body. His rib was still broken and his body was battered, but in that moment he couldn't have brought himself to stop. They touched and moved with the practiced ease of long term lovers and both were finally together again. Collodi, Hotspur, Morgan, and everything else melted together and was suddenly released as they rediscovered erogenous zones and played a long slow game with their mutual pleasure. The world may have been in a state of sexual havoc outside, but they would solve that problem later.
* * *
Candy was jerking off a police officer and whispering into his ear, "do you have any idea how bad I want to fuck you?" Then suddenly the world was washed in blue and Candy found herself staring at her twin in the middle of an empty cross road. No one appeared to be around, no traffic, certainly no well hung cop, not a sound apart from the desert wind that cut through the buildings downtown. "Who?" Candy asked.
The girl across from Candy was dressed conservatively in an off white blouse and a black skirt that hung past her knees. "Hello Candy, it's me, Morgan."
