Comet of Corruption

I've always been the kind of guy who was told to mind my own business a lot. Curious, inquisitive, perhaps a bit nosey, I admit, but always with good intentions. I promise. So when Halley's Comet passed recently, and news stories of particularly pernicious partygoers started to proliferate, I took notice. It first began as most things in my rather uneventful life did, in a messy living room watching the only luxurious item in the apartment: a big-screen smart television. Gathered around it was myself, my best friend and I hoped in the future my best man Wes, and the big brother I idolized my entire life, Kyle.

We were fairly inebriated during our own celebrations of this once-in-a-lifetime event, having been watching the news broadcast of a high-definition telescope keeping a static line of the Comet passing by. Kyle had to make room on the coffee table littered with cigarette butts and various bits of trash before he could safely put down his prized gravity bong(a rather haphazard result of half of a full gallon container of milk, and half a mountain dew bottle). We had been discussing all manner of the usual topics we three found interest in. Philosophy, politics, the economy, the favorites of potheads who whilst enjoying their high acquire the strange delusion of being able to fix the world with a simple conversation.

"Dude, the point is, we don't 'know' anything, it's all filtered through our senses, which can be wrong," my brother retorts to a point I had made a moment before he took a rather generous hit. For his part, Wes was entirely disinterested in this sort of talk and had been focusing more on the news about various celebrations, with one thing on his mind more than anything: All the lovely ladies out and about enjoying their nights. It was precisely this that prompted him to interrupt our pseudointellectual conversation.

"Guys, check it out!" he points at the television, getting our attention on the news report. A reporter wearing many rows of beads on his neck was chuckling and explaining what he was seeing whilst on the streets of our wonderful city.

"I've seen it all today guys I swear! The police had to be called, not a moment after the Comet reached the apex of its journey overtop our skies, several couples began engaging in incredibly lewd displays! The police have been called to break up the commotion, but the more they engage the more it seems the crowd wants to see. I'm gonna have to get out of here before I do something that'll get me in trouble!"

The live feed was doing its best to avoid anything which could cause issues to the station airing the broadcast, but the sounds of moaning and almost bestial yells and snarls filled the air around the reporter, and many people in the background were, while still clothed, almost glued to each other, tongues wrestling and hips gyrating, hands groping and quickly beginning to tear off the clothes that kept them from needing censoring. My brother laughs and slaps his knee, "Holy shit people are CRAZY on nights like this huh? Full moons, meteor showers, nuts."

I keep watching the broadcast before the acts on television become too inappropriate to show with a look of interest somewhat different from Wes' jealousy and my brother's amusement. Not long after, Kyle looks at me and seems to recognize the look, giving a bit of a sigh as he lights up a cigarette and shakes his head, "Don't," he says simply, getting my attention back to him as we lock eyes for a solid moment, my eyebrow raised inquisitively. "Just don't. You read into shit too much. It's just party people doing what party people do. Nothing more, nothing less."

Well, perhaps so, it's not too strange to see people engaged in lewd behavior publicly during celebrations, but actual sex acts passed a usual bar for the norm around here. So because of that, my brain started working through the haze of pot smoke and alcohol. The rest of the night was more or less uneventful. Wes had his third shift job at the gas station to get to, and Kyle was far too out of it to stay conscious for more than an hour after our talk. I stayed up far longer than I should, looking up whatever I could on odd happenings during lunar and astrological events, to almost no real headway.

When I awoke the next afternoon, Wes was home and relaxing in his uniform, odd since he's usually asleep by now, but the wide grin on his face told me he was too excited about something.

"What's up with you? Meet someone special at work?" I asked, mostly teasing, not expecting his answer.

"Lots actually!" He responded almost giddily, chuckling all the while. I regarded him for a moment, gauging to see if he was serious before it seemed clear that not only was he serious, but he was ecstatic. He told me about his night, where not only were his female co-workers a lot more friendly to him than usual, but a good many customers of the feminine variety showed interest in him as well. Weirdly, many of them appeared to be much more attractive than the usual clientele as well. "I dunno if there's a stripper convention in town or what but it was AWESOME dude!" I congratulated him on his newfound confidence before casually asking if he actually received any contact information or anything he can follow up on, and he was even more excited about that, "Yup! This girl Jessica came in, redhead, BANGING titties, so I'm like, heh, I'm up for anything, and she's like, asking me if I had a friend, 'cause she does too, right?" I wasn't crazy about how Wes spoke sometimes, it was sometimes hard to follow, "So anyways I was thinking about you because like, you've been out of the market for a few years and-"

I held up a hand to stop him as I was starting to understand his meaning. "Thanks for thinking of me but honestly I just do not have the mental energy for dating right now," I explained. It was true, Throughout my 20's I very much had the same mentality as my best friend: women, parties, drugs, it was a wild time. But as I realized I was going nowhere, and I was already thirty years old, I decided to switch gears and focus on my own life, my career, my creative works, and my studies.

"Yeah, I know! That's why I decided on Kyle instead!" Wes blurted out, cutting off my impending explanation. I was a bit taken aback and experienced a mix of relief, and trepidation, but also some optimism. Kyle has had girlfriends plenty, and none of them ended well. The vast majority of them are responsible for having introduced him to new and interesting drugs, abusing him, stealing money from him, and in spite of all of that, he's still a romantic at heart. I'd like to see him be happy with someone. "She wants to go out tonight, and told me to bring him, so I'm waiting on him to wake up, let him know, and then I'm gonna get some sleep."

I looked at him a moment, a complete stranger propositions him during his work. And according to him, an incredibly attractive one, who also wants to hook up a friend of his with one of hers. I have no idea what to do with this information at the moment other than to be suspicious of it. I love Wes like a second brother, but he's not exactly the type of guy to attract the porn star that he's claiming he met. He's not exactly in shape, not working a great job, and with a giggle snort sort of laugh that he often does when he's nervous I have to assume either this is a woman who might be after something else, or he's exaggerating.

"Where are you guys going?" I asked, feigning an idle curiosity, as if I'm just making conversation. It's too convenient. The night that people are going crazy having sex in the streets and, from reports, apparently riot cops being called to finally break it up, and on the same night, he's propositioned. It might seem creepy, and strange, but I need to investigate. Wes gives me the address of one of the local clubs that he's supposed to meet them at tonight, apparently having taken the night off for the first date he's had in a year. Understandable.

Eventually, Kyle does wake, and while he reheats old burgers back in the microwave, Wes tells him the good news, and they share a hi-five and excited planning. I decided to let the two plan their date night and go get changed so I could take a walk. It occurred to me it might be a good idea to go out and see what the state of the city in at the moment. After the riot police needed to be called the night before, I had to imagine that things must have simmered by now. I would soon be surprised. By how wrong I was, and by a whole lot more.

The first thing I noticed whilst traversing the streets in front of our apartment complex was how strangely busy it was. Not in the sense that it was out of the ordinary, but in the sense that everything seemed to be going on as normal in spite of the events the night before. There was no evidence of streets being sectioned off, any extra police presence, or anything that might indicate that a wild event occurred not 12 hours prior. The second thing I noticed was that I was being noticed. Every couple I walked past, every lady jogger on the street, and mothers pushing their strollers, it seemed that every time I would enter into the purview of a woman, their eyes would be on me. Not so much that they would stop or follow me, but enough to make me incredibly uncomfortable. I felt like the roles had been reversed, that the usual unwanted attention I understood women to receive merely existing was not being switched to me, but somehow even more so.

After a bit, I needed to take a break from the sheer awkwardness of all the looks I was receiving. I wasn't even wearing anything. Jeans and a red and black striped T-shirt, certainly not a high style that catches the eye. Quickly I found an alleyway in between a pizza shop and an apartment building and took refuge near the dumpster which sat directly beneath the fire escape. Taking a breath, I tried to piece together the oddities of the past night and day in my mind to attempt to figure out what was happening. I didn't have long to do so when intense moaning coming from the other side of the dumpster began to rouse me from my thoughts. They were not unfamiliar types of moans either, and I had a good idea of what I would find if I investigated, but my curiosity was insatiable.

Attempting some level of subtlety, I quietly made my way to the other side of the trash receptacle to confirm my suspicions and far more than that was accomplished. A rather inordinately cute brunette in a uniform matching that of the pizza place whose walls we were in betwixt was squatting on the ground. Her body wasn't what one might call curvy, but it was proportional, and she was certainly in shape. The squatting position made it next to impossible to take my eyes off of her athletically toned ass that was half hanging out of her skinny jeans. I blinked, realizing that she had pulled down her bottoms some. With one hand, she kept herself propped up against the wall in front of her, and with the other, she was exploring her nether regions. With what looked like a passionate newfound curiosity, t was as if she had never thought to do it before, but was ecstatic that she finally decided to. Her fingers plunged her depths and her moans made it clear that she was quickly figuring out how rewarding self-exploration can be.

As I watched her play with herself, her body shuddering with lust, I felt...a pull. Something deep inside of me was urging me to take advantage of this situation. My eyes kept on her hand as it rhythmically brought her fingers in, and out of her pussy. Each moan she made as she began to thrust into herself, stroke the outside lips, and throw her hair back as she indulged caused a slight tightening in my chest, a further pull to reach out, to touch her, to say something and get her attention. All of which another part of my brain was adamantly telling me were bad ideas. Shaking me from my almost trance-like state was the sound of the back exit to the pizza shop beginning to open. Quickly I hid on the other side of the dumpster again, not wanting to be caught perving on the horny worker.

"Cass what in the Sam Hill are you DOING?" Came a loud booming voice, one that I recognized, the owner of the shop, I had spoken to him enough on the phone to recognize his yelling voice. An older man in his late 40s, balding and with an apron covered in grease, he was quite the buzzkill to the strange part of me that was becoming entranced with 'Cass' and her performance. But the worker herself...was not as surprised. Instead of jumping, or reacting sheepishly, or whatever one would expect her to do in this situation, she stepped out from her place as she had turned to regard her boss, and began taking off her pants completely.

A look of shock and confusion covered the owner's face as he watched her rather abrupt strip show, "What are-" was all he could get out before the girl lept into him. I was shocked to witness that in spite of their size difference, Cass had managed to successfully tackle him back into the door, and I heard him make a sound as if the air had been knocked out of him, and a slap on the ground as his body hit the tiled floor of his back room. Quickly, I ran forward and put a foot in the doorway before the exit slammed shut on me, and looked inside to see what would happen, and I was shocked to see Cass grinding her hips on top of the owner's. On top of that, Cass seemed to adopt a rather odd cadence as she did so, speaking as if she was in full control over the situation, but with a teasing playfulness that threw me off guard even more than the preceding events.

"Haaa! Master! It's about time we have some fun!" she giggled as the hand she had been previously using to pleasure herself came up to her face, and she began to lick her love juices from her fingers. I shook my head in disbelief at what followed. Two triangles of hair began to jut out from the top of her hair, which I could only really see from the back, but they looked suspiciously like cat ears. Almost to confirm my thought, something began to unfurl from just above her ass, a long, prehensile, brunette-colored tail. I tried to get a look at the owner's face to see if he was as shocked as I was at this situation, but even though it was clear he wasn't expecting this outcome today just after the lunch rush, he let go of all sense of decorum and grasped his hands onto her buttocks as she gleefully, and with but only one of her hands, flipped his apron from his shoulders, unzipped his pants, and fished out what could only be a cock that had been anticipating this moment for awhile.

"You've been talking about doing this for sooooo loooong master! I'm tired of the teasing!" Cass squealed out as she moved her panties to the side, and positioned herself above her boss' erect member before impaling herself onto him in one fell swoop. In mere moments I had found myself once again glued to her bouncing backside as she began to ride him. I couldn't even see the owner for the most part due to the positioning, but Cass' back and her legs were on near full display. The hypnotic rhythm of her hips bouncing on top of his member, the cries of ecstasy and moaning she was engaged in, I began to feel the pull again. This time, it was a different urge. A part of me was demanding that I take advantage of the situation again, this time as a voyeur. To pull down my pants right then and there, and enjoy the show, to wait until she was finished with the owner, before letting her find me, and letting her do the same, to get myself ready to receive her.

I moved my foot from the door and let it close as I realized my thoughts were beginning to drive my body, a tightness forming in my boxers. The door closed with a bit of a slam, and I darted off, hoping neither of them will have noticed. What the hell was that? I wondered to myself. Did she...did she just grow a tail? And cat ears? Regardless I couldn't be entirely certain I didn't just witness an assault of some sort and felt compelled to make a report. Quickly, I ran out from the alleyway and searched high and low for a foot patrol police officer, and it didn't take me long to find one, though...she was dressed somewhat oddly.

Taking her in when I approached, the officer was certainly not dressed in a standard uniform. The only thing that gave her away was the holstered pistol, stun gun, and the fact she was in the midst of writing a parking ticket. Beyond that, the miniskirt she was sporting was highly unprofessional, as were the high heels that nobody could ever chase a criminal whilst wearing. Regardless, she was my only hope, and I approached, "Excuse me! Officer, I need to report an assault," I said as I jogged up to her.

Her blonde hair twirled in the air as she turned to regard me with big beautiful blue eyes, eyes that I almost lost myself in for a moment before realizing how incredibly large her chest was, almost bursting forth out of her uniformed shirt. She said nothing the entire time I found myself staring, which, while only for a moment, was more than enough to make things somewhat awkward. Not for her though. No, she seemed to know what I was looking at, and even seemed to...enjoy it? She certainly smiled wide.

"An assault?" she asked sweetly, with no sense of urgency in her voice, "Were you assaulted hon?" It was almost teasing how she said it. I had thought about asking if she was a real police officer, but for the moment, I assumed she must be, or she would have at least had the courtesy to tell me when I first approached. I took a moment to gather my thoughts, "Uh...Jared over at the pizzeria, one of his workers is...uh, sexually assaulting him," I explained the best I could in between my breaths, having been running around ragged since I left the alleyway.

The officer put one of her gloved hands to her face, in what looked like an almost mocking form of concern, "Oh dear, that's quite serious!" she exclaims, again with a tone that does not indicate the substance of her words, instead a teasing, almost sultry way of speaking, "And you ran all the way here to tell me? You must really worry about him..." she adds with a rather coy grin.

Sensing quite a lot wrong with this situation, I realize this is a lost cause, but again I feel a familiar pull. It's pushing me to look at her chest. I attempt to form words, but they're somewhat garbled as I speak, "Yeah I uh...he's...we...talk..." I managed barely. Suddenly, one of her hands has snaked its way around the back of my head, and her other is grabbing at the buttoned-up middle of her shirt before she breaks her incredible G-sized tits free from their blue-uniformed prison. I can't react, no thought occurs in my head as she brings my face to her chest and buries me there. I hear her voice above me, "It's concerned citizens like you that let me know the world is a great place you know...a thoughtful...caring guy helping his fellow man..." she coos. I don't understand the situation. It doesn't make sense. My mind is crossing wires and short-circuiting, and the only thing I can think is how incredibly comfortable this position is. In spite of my run, and my somewhat heavy breath being stifled by her soft and bountiful mounds, it was so easy to simply rest myself here. My eyes were half-lidded and my body was limp, but surprisingly, she was able to hold me up by putting her hands under my arms and holding me almost like a teddy bear.

She was strong, and I felt...safe? With my face in her chest. Unconsciously, my lips began to explore. A Kiss, a suck, a lick, I began to burrow my head further into her generous cleavage, and all the while she simply giggled, which caused her breasts to bounce around my face in an oh-so-pleasant way, even eliciting a moan from myself, which only caused her to giggle more. After a moment of my mind collecting itself and attempting to fight against this instinct to let her have her way with me, she leans her face down near my ear and whispers, "Oh dear...someone's being naughty. Maybe I should bring you in, for public indecency..." At the threat of imprisonment, in spite of the fact that 'she' had started the encounter, I mustered up some strength and pushed myself from her, falling back onto the ground momentarily as I caught my breath, not realizing it had been quite a bit since I had taken a proper gulp of air. For her part, the policewoman stuck a hand on her hip and laughed at me, "Feeling woozy?" she asked with a tilt of her head. She began to slowly advance on my prone form and I knew if I didn't do something, I would never escape. Quickly I pivoted on my toes and burst myself backward towards the apartment complex I lived in.