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Meteor crash turns women into sluts. Is there a cure?

There it sprayed out his thick white nectar. He yelled out his pleasure, pressing hard into me, pushing his pubic bone against my clit, his cock throbbing. The wildness of his orgasm triggered my own, and I was cumming all over the place. Oh it was so hot."

"You are so hot. And me." Connie guided Jane's long narrow fingers for a moment before leaving her to continue her gentle strokes."

"Mmm. You are!" Jane said and laughed.

"So what happened to the gorgeous Oscar?"

"Typical male ego. Narcissus. Staring at his own reflection. Tightening his abs. We did feel close after my crazy seduction, but it never got better. Stayed the same. Got worse. I got in his way. He found another, prettier, younger girl to seduce and conquer."


"I wasn't so pretty. I didn't feel pretty. Not until Jim...She wasn't as pretty as you." They kissed. "I could never compete with you. You're so beautiful and clever and smart. He deserves you. But goddamnit Connie, it's like I need him. He loves like no other." Tearing up again, Jane began to rise.

"Stay. This is Jim's bed. My bed. There's love here enough to share. Besides, we still have two more stories to go." Connie negotiated Jane's body back beside her. Hands held Jane's face and lips kissed away the warm tears. Lips descended to meet Jane's, feeling the heat, tasting the salt. She guided Jane's hand back to her cunny. It's dryness pulled Jane away. Connie led it back. "Gentle," she whispered.

Jane's laugh penetrated her despair. She was game to continue. "The best fuck with Harry was an all day affair. I don't mean all day fucking. Anticipation was what it was all about. First of all, we hadn't really seen much of each other for a week. Even though we slept in the same bed, one of us would be sleeping when the other got home, or one of us would wake while the other one slept. I was working full time for awhile at the publishing house. Harry was ensconced in classes and the homework was especially time consuming. So we made a date, which was fun in itself. We'd been together four months, and had gotten to know each other maybe a little too well, falling into habits and stuff, so the idea of a date was refreshing. And the date was an all day affair.

"We met up in Central Park by the boat rental where we had first met. Purposefully, we didn't travel together, but met up. It was noon. We had thought about canoeing, but there was an early chill in the air. We had ourselves a picnic. I brought the wine and Harry brought sandwiches and the blanket.

"Yes it was very romantic. We ate and talked, caught up with our separate lives, discussed whatever popped in our heads, rediscovered each other. I would look at him, and it seemed as if he was glowing with love. His eyes sparkled. He was radiant. By the end of our picnic, we were clinging together, my legs wrapped around him, pressing together, touching each other discreetly, turning each other on. Heating up without exploding.

"When we decided to move on, I kept him hard with little tweaks to his cock and sexy glances. He would stroke my thighs, cop a feel of my lusty pussy. This continued while strolling through the Metropolitan Museum Of Art. We slowly made our way through the museum, stopping at every bench that sat before one of the large paintings. Each chance we found not to be noticed we would grope each other. My hands massaging his pole through his pants. His hands tweaking my nipples and pressing against my vulva and rubbing. Our tongues found jolts of electric thrills as they tangled outside our mouths. We didn't risk a full on kiss for fear our lips would never part, and we would be humping in front of the poor innocent museum patrons.
"Dinner was a quiet South American cuisine.

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