The Magyar Ch. 02

Hi all,

This is the second part of the Magyar and, although it can be read and perfectly followed without reading the first part, I recommend checking it out as well. :)

This chapter is a collection of short stories around a common thread, please let me know in the comments if any of them catches your attention and why.

I hope you have at least half the fun reading it as I had imagining it.

Thorenor

Lisa and Dorjan were too busy to notice the prodigious amount of energy build-up they had generated during their supernatural encounter.

Minutes before their definitive orgasm, and unbeknownst to them, accumulated energy started radiating from them. It spread, slowly reaching the several hundred people that were going on with their lives within a few hundred yards, most of them in the EGF facilities.

This was pure sex power, raising libido to extreme levels for all of those present in the influence area. Men who hadn't had an erection in years found themselves sporting outrageous boners. Women, young or not, were lubricating as if they were horny teenagers in heat. Within seconds, the intensity was so high that everybody had to stop what they were doing and surrender to their bodies. Those driving through the affected area had to find the willpower to stop the car at the curb. A woman simply went straight through the roundabout, knocking down a traffic sign and stopping her car right in the middle of the circle. There, she had a roaring orgasm as she held to the driving wheel for her dear life.

And then, as Lisa and Dorjan came together, they triggered the detonation of what could only be described as an atomic orgasm bomb. Hundreds of human bodies in simultaneous ecstasy and no clue of how or why it was happening.

Laurel

Laurel was an administrative on the fifth floor. She was a petite woman in her early forties with big blue eyes on a small face and chestnut hair falling in a simple, straight style, framing her face with unpretentious charm. Laurel had a slender frame and today, she was wearing a well-fitted tailored blazer paired with soft brown trousers.

Laurel's best body feature were her beautiful breasts. You probably would not have guessed it since her modesty led her to never highlight them with insinuating clothes. They were not big, maybe the size of small peaches, but perky and perfectly shaped. Her nipples were very sensitive and promptly reacted to the most subtle stimulation, sometimes, to her despair, in the wrong time and place. Despite wearing several layers trying to hide them when playing tennis, they often ended up poking through her sports-bra and top. This would happen when she got cold or, and she would never admit this to herself, after the arousal from winning a difficult point. It was in the tennis courts that the man who would become her husband fell for her. He hadn't played tennis before meeting her, but after that, he could not pass a chance to see Laurel in sports clothes and, almost without fail at the end of the game, her hard nipples poking through.

Although she enjoyed sex and her husband tried every known trick to get her there, Laurel had never experienced an orgasm. She had been brought up in a very religious family and was in her thirties when she finally had intercourse for the first time with her now husband, shortly before getting married. Maybe it was the guilt feeling, the lack of having played with herself early on, or perhaps not having had any guidance from female friends or experienced partners during her formative years. Whichever the reason was, the big O had remained elusive for her.

But even without orgasms, Laurel was learning to enjoy sex more and more and, in fact, it was her who would often start many of the sex sessions with her hubby. As they were cuddling in bed, putting her head on his chest, she would innocently slide down one of her hands to reach between his legs. Laurel loved how she only had to give him a couple of strokes to get his dick hard and big.

He would then lift her up and lay her on top of him, facing up to the ceiling and away from him. His cock pressing between her legs but not entering her yet. One of his hands would play with her tits and tease her nipples while the other one reached down to her pussy. First playing with her labia, spreading her juices, then he would start entering her with one finger, two fingers... sometimes a third. By then, she would be just dying to be fucked and pressed down with her hips to get his big cock into her tight pussy. Even after several years with him, it was still hard to stretch herself enough to accommodate all of him, but the process of getting her cave stuffed all the way always made her scream with pleasure.

Laurel was also particularly turned on by something her husband liked to do on occasion. As he got close to getting off, he would sit on top of her belly, putting his weight on his knees on each side of her. His cock would heavily rest right between her tits. She would then use both of her small hands to stroke his cock as he watched her.

Laurel loved knowing that looking at her was what he chose to do right before orgasming. It was because of her! This made her feel desired, and more self-confident and at ease with sex.

Sometimes, he would arch his back so his cock would be closer to her face, an invitation for her to suck on his dick. Unfortunately, Laurel was a petite woman with a rather small mouth and all she could fit in it was just the head. But she did her best to take as much of him in her mouth as she could and enjoyed staring into his bewildered eyes as she did this.

Most times he would end up coming on her chest, covering her perfect little tits with multiple loads of thick, warm cum. Sometimes, especially if he was very excited, his cum would shoot farther and reach her face. At first, she tried to avoid this, but that changed one day when she noticed his reaction after making a huge mess of hers. His cum reached her hair, forehead, cheeks, lips... half her face was covered in it. Apparently, he found this so hot that without even resting for a second (or allowing Laurel to clean herself) he got again between her legs and fucked her like a maniac until he came again within seconds. Seeing him lose his mind like that was tremendously arousing to her and she now secretly hoped it would happen more often.

At the time the atomic orgasm bomb went off, she was sitting at her desk and, fortunately, no one was in the immediate vicinity. Despite the initial confusion, the whole process felt beyond amazing. Not surprisingly, her hardening nipples were the first to react before she could even put a name to what she was feeling. "That's odd," she thought, "but really nice..." It felt like a warm, moist tongue was licking them and thick, strong lips, pulled on them playfully. The tingling sensation increased and enfolded her, peaking between her legs. Within seconds, her underwear was so wet that a visible spot was forming on her pants. She closed her eyes and felt the blood rushing to her labia and clit, her genitalia singing the sweetest and warmest melody she'd ever heard, then becoming a strong beat that vibrated every cell in her pussy. She was suddenly drunk with lust, and nothing mattered but these amazing body sensations. Her breaths deep and faster, her face flustered, chills bouncing from one limb to another and giving her goosebumps all over...

As she was losing control over her body and mind, she brough one hand over her clothes to squeeze hard one of her tits as the other hand pressed hard between her legs. Then it happened. She came for the first time as moans escaped her mouth and her body exploded in convulsions of joy.

"Oooohhhh, my Gooooooooood!! God, yeeesssssssssss..." she screamed.

Jeff and Colleen

Jeff was a scientist in his mid-fifties and he was today's presenter in a seminar series that typically attracted a couple of dozen people to the main conference room. Unlike most of his colleagues, Jeff paid attention to his clothes, especially on the few occasions when he knew he was going to be the focus of attention. He was wearing a well-tailored charcoal gray suit. His mid-length salt-and-pepper hair was neatly groomed, and was sporting a well-maintained beard, showcasing a balance between authority and approachability.

When the first waves reached the room, Jeff was so focused on his slides he didn't notice that people had stopped paying attention. Then he realized that he was feeling increasingly horny at the worst possible time. "Holy crap," he thought, noticing he was getting an erection right there in front of everyone! No matter how much he tried to fight it, it was strikingly clear this was beyond his control. Quickly, he moved behind the podium where he could at least hide himself from the waist down. He managed to say, "Excuse me, I, hmm, I just need to drink some water." He didn't even get to pour the water in his cup before he came in his pants while trying his best to repress the impulse to yell from the pleasure he was experiencing. He leaned against the podium, holding it with both hands and rode the waves as best as he could.

Of course, no one in the audience was paying attention to the speaker. They were all dealing with their own unexpected orgasms. And no one was enjoying it more than Colleen.

Colleen was a striking woman in her mid-thirties whose presence commanded attention. Standing tall with a statuesque figure, she effortlessly embraced her voluptuous frame with a confidence that radiated from within. Colleen's short, tousled blond hair framed her face in a carefree yet chic manner, adding a touch of playfulness to her overall allure.

Colleen's relationship with sex was anything but subtle. Early on, she found out that the garden-variety vibrating toys were not intense enough for her. She was the only woman she knew that owned a fuck-machine with a dildo attached to a pole whose speed and depth could be controlled with dials. She now had a collection of attachable toys with different sizes and textures. Lately, she had been exploring the joys of anal sex and had just received an adapter that would allow installing two dildos to have her pussy and ass simultaneously fucked by her precious machine.

She was almost competitive in her approach to sex. For example, her female friends once joked about how deep in their mouths they could take their boyfriends dicks. Even though she was not particularly excited about giving blowjobs, this conversation with her friends was enough for her to train over months to overcome her gag reflex with progressively large cock-shaped items. She was proud of her accomplishment and happy to deepthroat any lucky sexual male partner, provided he could make her cum first.

Today, she was dressing in a form-fitting cobalt blue sheath dress that accentuated her curves. She paired her dress with stylish high heels that added to her tall stature, creating a commanding presence. Her short, tousled blond hair was neatly styled for a polished look.

A conference room is probably not the right place and time for a screamer trying to hide the pleasure overcoming her. And Colleen was an honest-to-God, big time, certified screamer. She loved sex and was unapologetic about it, but coming in front of thirty colleagues was not quite on top of her list of fantasies. Now, the whole room was quiet except for a few heavy breaths and shy moans here and there. The silent auditorium was an amplifying stage to her increasingly loud moans and then, as she came, the long, mighty screams poured out of her. She disappointed no one. Colleen provided the perfect soundtrack to everybody's best-ever day at work.

Mr. Opsahl and Kathy

Kathy was a dedicated private nurse in her sixties, tending the last days of Mr. Opsahl.

On a typical workday such as today, she wore soft blue scrubs, paired with a lightweight cardigan for comfort. Her practical, slip-resistant shoes ensured safety in the home environment. Kathy's graying hair, pulled back in a neat bun, reflected her hygienic approach. Her kind eyes conveyed deep empathy, bringing solace to her patient. With each visit, Kathy's presence provided both professionalism and a nurturing touch, leaving a lasting impact in the realm of palliative care.

Kathy's sexual life was pretty much non-existent and her past experiences had been very limited. She had never married and had devoted her life to nursing her customers. Although she was not a virgin, she had only had one serious partner throughout her life and sex with him had not been... memorable. The one remarkable exception was a distant recollection that excited and made her melancholic in equal parts.

Almost two decades ago, Kathy was taking care of an elderly lady with terminal cancer. Like many of her customers who could afford a private nurse at home, this client was part of a wealthy family. Although she had several children, there was only one who spent almost every single evening by her bedside. Kathy never exchanged too many words with him and tried to remain as invisible as possible to respect the intimacy of their last days together. She was impressed with this man's tenderness and resolution to be there as often as possible. On occasion, Kathy would notice his sad eyes quietly lying on her body as she did her chores. The man was attractive, she thought, too much to be interested in someone like her.

The day after the customer passed away, Kathy went back to the house one more time to collect some of her personal items. The young man was gently weeping on the large couch where her mom spent her last days. She considered leaving quietly, but instead she approached the man to whisper "I am so sorry for your loss. You have been a great son to her." This intensified his sobs and she put her hand on his shoulder to offer comfort. He reached his hand to hold her hand and burrowed his face on her chest, hiding his crying. Gradually, his tears came to a stop and his breath paced down, but he didn't let go of her. He looked into her eyes and without breaking eye contact, he slowly stood up and kissed her.

The rest happened fast. Without uttering a word, he took her clothes off. She didn't stop him; she didn't encourage him; she was in a trance. She remembered his strong hands lifting her up and then his member entering her, without hesitation. Their kisses were feverish, and his strong arms and hands lifted her up and dropped her down allowing his cock to slide in and out. Soon, she was surprised to find herself coming and crying from relief, grunting and pushing herself harder against him as she came hard. When he did, he let out a deep roar that appeared to come from his very soul.

They collapsed on the couch and soon after he fell asleep still holding to her. Later, she carefully disentangled herself from his arms and legs, grabbed her clothes and quietly left the house, never to see or hear from this man again.

Time had made the memory of his face and body fade away, only the feeling of his hands holding her up against him remained fresh and helped her relive the experience in the form of wet dreams.

Mr. Opsahl, the patient, was a 106-year-old gentleman who had lived an intense life full of adventures. In his youth, he became an engineer and worked for the Navy during WWII in the Pacific Theater. After the war, he was recruited by EGF to work at what would become the headquarters of a powerful company. Back then, real estate was cheap and available in town, and he built a house which now was at spitting distance of EGF's grounds, right by the river.

Mr. Opsahl's final demise was imminent. The few times Mr. Opsahl had been conscious during the month Kathy had been taking care of him, he had been gentle and sweet with her. She wished we all could reach the end with the same level of dignity and acceptance.

As the first waves of energy reached Mr. Opsahl's house, Kathy was using a towel with warm soapy water to wash his body. Given the situation, Kathy was trying to ignore the very pleasant heat that was overtaking her. Her mind seemed to be conspiring against her because rather than helping her disregard this feeling, it was making it more intense!

Her hand moved the wet towel down on the unconscious man's body and reached for his manhood. She rubbed it gently. Mr. Opsahl had not been conscious in the last week, but now, Kathy felt he was almost magically becoming alive. The old man's cock, right under the towel on her left hand was growing and growing to a very impressive size. Kathy was now actively stroking this vigorous, now gigantic member which probably had not been hard since the Stone Age.

As this was happening, Kathy could feel her pussy wet and screaming for attention. She moved her free hand under her scrub and panties and touched herself while she continued working on Mr. Opsahl's glorious cock. Her body shook with increasing pleasure and eventually she had no choice but to lean forward on the bed and ride the inexplicable orgasm that was consuming her.

Mr. Opsahl regained consciousness one last time in his life to enjoy the view and work of the angel in the form of a glowing, beautiful woman that was filling his heart with pleasure. With one final, strong convulsion he looked at her and whispered, "Thank you, Love."

Life slowly left his eyes as he painlessly passed away with the kind of cheerful and seductive smile that Hollywood stars would kill for.

Megan

Megan was an asshole with the proverbial stick up her ass. She also happened to be young and extremely hot, which is unfair, but such is life.

An ambitious engineer, she harbored a strong desire for rapid career advancement and leadership roles well before deserving them. Despite her striking appearance--accentuated by piercing blue eyes and dark, curly hair--her behavior painted a different picture. Megan's approach to her professional environment was marked by a lack of empathy and a disregard for collaborative dynamics.

While Megan's fashionable choices showcased her good looks, it underscored a disconnect between her personal presentation and the practical, often more casual, nature of the workplace. This discord in both behavior and appearance left an impression that, despite her professional aspirations, Megan struggled to foster positive relationships within her scientific community.

Megan was wearing a knee-length, form-fitting sheath dress in a deep emerald green. Her dress was tailored to accentuate her curves, and its V-neck design complements her large breasts with a touch of false modesty.

At the time of the event, she was participating in a Teams meeting with a group in the Netherlands and was pretending to listen, uttering "yes" and "fascinating" now and then. As usual, and to her advantage, the camera was kept off during presentations to improve bandwidth. No one knew she was not paying attention and probably no one cared.

Sex was not something she was terribly interested in and mostly thought of it as a tool at her disposal to get her boyfriend to do nice things for her. However, right now, she could not stop thinking about how nice it would be to be fucked by a nice, hard cock. Right there, in her little office, treated like the dirty little slut she was.

The desire, the need even, was rapidly intensifying and her eyes scanned the room for anything she could use as an improvised, emergency dildo. "One of the bananas should do!" she decided. She had never even entertained thoughts like that, but right now she could not wait to fuck herself with the biggest one of the bunch.

Unable to wait any longer, she quickly moved the mouse to click on the mute button on the screen and pushed herself back from the desk and opened her legs so she could slide the banana in. A few inches in, the curvature of the banana hit her g-spot, right on target. She knew that a strong one was coming over her like a sixteen-wheeler. She slid down the top of her dress to expose one of her breasts and managed to lick her nipple as she frantically came on that banana while yelling to an imaginary lover, "Yes, fuck me, yes! Fuck me with that big cock! Fuck meeeeee!"