Author's Note:
This story is a commission from one of my awesome Patrons, DAC. Standard disclaimer applies: this story contains graphic depictions of sex, so if it's illegal or immoral for you to be reading this, stop now! All characters and situations are entirely fictional, and any resemblance to any real-life individuals or situations is entirely coincidental. Copyright Fidget, 2020. All rights reserved. Enjoy!
Extra-Perceptual
by Fidget
Amy was sitting at home, lounging comfortably in a bathrobe, reading a trashy romance novel when it happened.
You might think it odd for an up-and-coming aeronautics research scientist to spend her Saturdays reading smut, but there was something about the stories of plain, everyday women having torrid affairs with gorgeous, unattainable men that she couldn't get enough of, possibly because she herself was plain, with mousy brown hair and no curves to speak of. She had tried to get the attention of the popular boys in school, but just didn't have what it took, and had turned to books about unrealistic relationships instead. Her love of reading was what had started her on her ridiculously successful career path, but it was also what had earned her her nickname, "Worm", short for "Bookworm". She absolutely hated her nickname, as it simultaneously pointed out both her underdeveloped body, and the social isolation that had resulted from it.
That fateful Saturday, Amy's feelings of pleasant arousal from the sexual antics in her book were shattered as her entire house shook, accompanied by what sounded like a small explosion from her backyard. Running outside, she saw a small crater, with a still-glowing lump of metal in the center. As she approached it, she noticed a strange buzzing sensation in her head that got stronger the closer she got to the stone.
What the hell was that?!? she suddenly heard, and turned around to see her neighbor, Tom, leaning over the fence between their property.
"I think it's a meteorite!" Amy responded. "It must have just landed in my back yard!" Amy drew as close to the glowing rock as she could, before the heat radiating off it became too strong, and she was forced to retreat over to the fence by Tom.
"Weird!" Tom said, before shaking his head as though he was feeling the same buzzing. I hope this weird headache goes away soon - I think Melissa might be in the mood tonight, and I don't want to miss my chance to get lucky!
"Wait, what did you just say?" Amy asked, sure she must have somehow misheard him. Which itself was odd, since she didn't think she had seen his mouth move.
"I didn't say anything," Tom said, confirming Amy's suspicions that his mouth in fact hadn't been moving, which just left her feeling more confused.
Even so, the thought of Tom having sex had caused Amy to take a few surreptitious glances at his arms and chest before heading back to her house. For an accountant, Tom was pretty attractive, and as Amy glanced back at him while walking inside, she briefly thought, I bet he looks like he just stepped out of a romance novel under those clothes, before closing the door behind her.
Tom gave his neighbor an odd look as she disappeared, as though he'd somehow heard what she had thought, but as he turned back toward his own house, his muscles began to bulge and ripple under his dress shirt. Completely unaware of his new physique, Tom walked inside and proceeded to make powerful love to his incredibly lucky wife like he did every day. As Melissa recovered from her usual string of orgasms, she wondered, as she often did, how on earth she managed to snag a ridiculously hot underwear model with a massive cock, who was also godly at sex.
Melissa is such a lucky girl, Amy thought as she walked out her front door to check the mail, still in her bathrobe. She still couldn't believe that she lived next door to a real-life underwear model. It was like fate was tormenting her daily with what she couldn't have.
More importantly though, what was going on with Tom? She was certain that he hadn't been moving his lips, yet she'd still heard him talking about banging his wife, plain as day. Maybe it had something to do with the weird buzzing she had felt in her head, which hadn't decreased in intensity, even though she was now dozens of feet away from the meteorite. Well, she was a researcher, wasn't she? It was time for an experiment.
Reaching into her mailbox to grab her daily junk mail, Amy looked around for a likely test subject. Spotting the crotchety old woman who lived across the street sitting on her porch, Amy called out, "Hi Mrs. Henderson!" and waved. As usual, the old woman seemed to completely ignore her, but then Amy clearly heard, Young people these days, always desperate to draw attention to themselves, even though Amy was sure that Mrs. Henderson's lips hadn't moved.
I have always been pretty desperate for attention, Amy conceded. She recalled her high school days, where after constantly being rejected by her crushes, she had taken to wearing increasingly revealing outfits in an attempt to draw their attention, but that had only drawn more attention to her complete lack of curves, and her acting out had earned her a healthy amount of detention. Even so, Amy couldn't seem to help it, and her habit of wearing revealing clothing had stuck.
Amy looked down at the low-cut, midriff-baring tank top and dangerously short shorts currently hanging off her boyish figure, before continuing to excitedly wave at the old woman across the street, bouncing up and down this time, overwhelmed with youthful exuberance at being the center of her attention, until finally the old woman grew tired of her antics and turned away.