Three Hundred Million

They fell to the ground, laughing and fondling their own crotches in delight. As had all the others whom the beam had swept over. But the strangeness, the shock and awe and surprise still prompted those who could, to flee. My eco-friendly boxy hybrid sputtered and died; being largely electric, the EMP pulse had scrambled its workings beyond repair. That was something the theorists and UFOlogists had been right about; the aliens would first try to zap our electronics. But no one anticipated the second wave of their attack; nor could the best thinkers determine their exact objectives.

The alien warship was about the size of a hurricane, blotting out the sky with fluid, curvy ripples and bulges composed of some matte-green alien alloy; there were numerous ports, lights and devices on its surface that glowed hot pink, the same color as the ray-beams that swept my city. Well, I guess not my city; I'm just one of many newly-graduated computer-science geeks -- but we were all in for it...whatever it was.

No disintegrations, no explosions so far. Just these pink rays that bathed streets and buildings, and left behind insane, giggling people in its wake.

"It's.....some kind of...of...pleasure ray?" And it left young and old, male and female writhing upon the pavement; writhing with a glee unnatural, smiling so hard that they no doubt pulled the muscles in their cheeks. A plump blond housewife shook like a ragdoll, screaming all throughout a spontaneous orgasm that erupted between her thighs. And it continued; on and on. Some of the older ones couldn't handle it, collapsing insensate as the waves of impossible, artificial bliss continued to ravage their bodies. But those younger, once they got over the initial shock, their fumbling fingers tore through their pants as they began to masturbate furiously. Yet surprisingly little destruction for the no-doubt apocalyptic end of human civilization.

The jet-fighters came next. I felt a brief twinge in my belly as I dared hope that humanity was not utterly helpless before this extraterrestrial violation. No shimmering force-fields like I would have expected from the movies; missiles aimed at the hovering behemoths seemed to vanish without a trace. Then I noticed yawning, rippling...invaginations materializing out of thin air. They gaped for just moments, swallowing man-made projectiles into a hidden void of nothingness. I could see dozens of feathery-white trails in the sky as the armed forces unleashed their pent-up ballistic paranoia from the Cold-War against a new and terrible enemy.

But it was all for nothing. No explosions. Not a single missile struck any target. Strange vaginal voids in space-time just devoured every projectile. I could see one of the F-15's streaking away to attack from another angle, but one of the voids opened, and consumed the whole aircraft along with every missile it had fired.

Makes sense I suppose. If they're advanced enough to get over here from a whole other solar system, the battle's probably lost before it ever started. But for me, that didn't matter; I had to escape, survive, and those of us that remained after the attack would work out some way, anyway to fight back, no matter how long it takes! Then the ship started to pulsate, the rounded swells of greenish metal began to quiver and writhe, as if expanding...moving...opening?

**********

"F-FIGHT YOU!!!" I howled, as I sprang upright in bed, drenched in sweat. It took a few seconds of panting into the cool dawn air before I remembered to unclench my fists. Not daring to voice my own suspicions, I opened my venetian blinds to check...

Whew. No looming alien space-craft. No furiously embattled tanks or jet-fighters. Just the city. With people going about their business. As normal. Like every other day. And now, it seemed as those these dreams were also becoming normal. That was just the latest in a long, long line of night-time visions of alien domination. Why? What the Hell had I been smoking? Well, I'd finally scheduled an appointment with a shrink, at Jase's insistence and hearty recommendation; he had a right to be tired of my screaming waking him up at night.

The dreams...they been haunting me for months now; teasing me with a certainty more compelling than sunrise, death, or taxes. They seemed more than just undigested burritos dancing a Conga line in my brain. The visions had a vividness, a clarity that was deeply sobering. A certainty...that they were true? How could they be true? To be on the safe side, I peeked again as I slipped on a bathrobe. Nope, still no alien dreadnoughts come to lay waste to mankind.

Months of this insanity... but the real reason, why I'd put off trying to get some kind of -- any kind of professional help was that I couldn't acknowledge; even to myself that my convictions might be a source of weakness, might be some kind of whacked-out psychotic break. What I believed -- what I knew to be true was such a compelling drive that I had refused to allow anything to justify the obvious suspicion that I was just another conspiracy nut.

Well, who am I kidding; I am a conspiracy nut; but that doesn't mean I'm crazy. Not necessarily. I hope.

I had intended to tend to the morning flagpole, but I could hear that someone was in the shower already. I could hold off for few minutes. I curled up on the couch and zapped on the boob tube. I flipped through channels featuring live-sex acts on public access T.V., seven different versions of the Playboy channel - Just in time for CSPAN coverage of a Presidential Rose Garden ceremony in which the Commander-in-Chief was presenting the Medal of Freedom to the founding members of the newly sanctioned Federal Sex-Workers Union. The gleaming medallion tossed and turned as the metal valiantly fought to nestle itself between the abundant cleavage of Lexxxia Amore, a silicon-happy, giggling embarrassment to feminism and cash-cow for a host of cosmetic surgeons. Even months after the creation of the Union, and the ratification of the Sex-Worker Protection act by Congress, the sudden acceptance and praise that was being heaped on whores, strippers, and the dangerously promiscuous was still surreal enough to make my jaw drop. Lexxxia gave a little jiggle for the benefit of the audience, followed by a coy smile. And this president was a Republican no less! Just the latest example. All this smut on the air, seemingly with no regard nor mention of FCC decency/nudity regulations.

My name wasn't Sherlock Holmes, and it didn't have to be for me to realize that something, somewhere had gone desperately wrong with the world. And no one seemed to care; no one seemed to notice. Except me, me and my small circle of friends, allies, fellow-conspirators. I think I know. At least, I might have grasped part of the puzzle. But then I heard the door swing open, and the sprinkling of the shower seemed to be dying down. Jase was probably done and forgot to completely turn off the water, I'd just slip in to use the facilities before the busy day I had ahead of me.

I just wanted to -

And then the shower doors opened in a puff of steam. Slippery legs stepped over the rim with the dainty grace of angels dancing on clouds. The merest hint of her feet, the slightest view of her hands bespoke of obvious, unmistakable femininity. From the toned sculpture of her long legs to the flaring swell of stunningly wide birthing hips up to the chiseled beauty of her fit belly would have been enough to make me cream my boxers, yet there was so much more. Her bulging breasts were too naturally life-like to be silicon implants, yet they seemed just a few inches too vast, too buxom to be real. Her heaving chest seemed to throb as though someone was trying desperately to inflate twin rose-tipped cantaloupes beyond their natural limits, yielding curvaceous valleys of feminine bounty that demanded all the lurid attention her audience could bestow.

In that moment, I became the man that every woman hates; the man that cannot look above the neckline. I didn't even need to; what I'd seen, all too clearly was more than enough. It was the most perfect female figure I could have imagined. My peripheral vision gave me a vague impression of a young-ish, smooth face, but there just seemed to be no need to look her in the eye. Even if her face had been ugly enough to warrant wearing a bag in public, her beyond-gorgeous figure would have been enough to wrench from me any promise, any vow of fidelity for the chance to couple with her. For the life of me, I couldn't even be sure she had arms. (I assume so, or else she couldn't have used the)shower. But my attention was riveted helplessly by the display of girlflesh overflowing with sex-appeal.

"You must be Cecil. Jase mentioned he had a roommate." Said a voice like velvet dipped in honey. And Jase had been bragging for a few days about this unbelievable babe he was sure to score with. I had dismissed his claims...until now.

"Y-y yeah...th's...me." Smooth, Cecil. Real smooth. But shouldn't she be the nervous one, naked and dripping, alone in here with a guy she's never met? Didn't show it if so. "C-can I get you a uhm....t-towel?" I offered. Beyond-Gorgeous strode towards me as if she didn't hear. I shouldn't just stare at her tits,don't just state at her tits. Notjustits,notjustits,womenhatethat...but I'd never seen anything quite like them.

I made it as far as her bee-stung, ruby-red lips framed by errant strands of platinum-blond hair plastered to her shoulders by the wetness. Almost as if she was wearing lipstick, even though the rivulets of trickling moisture proved she'd been in the shower. I just took it for granted that she had eyes.

"Why would you want me to have a towel? You're a man...I'm a woman. You crave the sight of my naked body." Thank you, Princess Obvious -- but why isn't she the least bit shy? "All it takes is the sight of nude, available female flesh, and the male's libido dominates his thoughts." She ran slender fingers through my neat brown crew-cut. Ah, so she does have arms after all. "There's nothing I could say to sway you... as your penis fills with virility, the urge will become undeniable." She growled. What the hell? What was she expecting me to do?

" Uhm...you are...what do you think you're doing?" sleek fingers ran down - "HEY!!" into my boxers where her suspicions about my manhood were confirmed.

"It doesn't matter what I do -- Men are animals; you exist for no other reason than to plant your seed into fertile females." I shuddered as a whisper-like teasing touch inflamed my maleness into iron-hard insistence. "Now that you are aroused, no words of mine can save me from your burning need to copulate." The way she stepped into my arms put my hands in a natural position to run my fingers down the firm swell of her ripe, gleaming ass. I shuddered as she nuzzled my neck.

"Whoa...wait I... I never meant to... I don't know what kind of...of game this is...b-but...."

"The male will feel a possessive urge and will lay claim to the female, exploring her body the way a conqueror surveys his territory..." announced Gorgeous as she grasped my wrists and placed them upon her own ample charms. Her boobs filled both of my hands neatly, with a hefty weight and hardening nipples that brought a growl to my throat. Oh dear... she had eyes too. Wrestling with my own lustful awe, I was finally able to study this slutty creature without fixating on any one part. They were sultry windows to a soul shadowed with the emerald-green promise of smoldering erotica. Strange, it was almost like she'd been wearing full make-up, yet was still dripping wet from the shower. I would have pondered the mystery further, had I not been as....distracted as I was.

"There comes a point..." she said as she arched her back, shoving her rampant mammaries further into my grip. "When no threat of social sanction can quell the urges of the male to seize his desired mate, he will press his body against her -- " Her breasts...they seemed to be pressing further against my palms. As if the tender titflesh was swelling, throbbing, inflating...but not as a balloon would, her glistening rack seemed to enlarge with the weighty promise of full-bosomed sexuality. It was surreal, but too erotic for me to fully contemplate the implications. It was becoming harder to contemplate anything but my own tightening boxers.

"...he will thrust himself into his female with a savagery that denies his elevation over the beasts." She snarled. What was the point of this? Beyond crazy; this psycho-slut was trying to get herself -- oh damn....her hands I forgot about her hands... Delicate fingers tightened around my manmeat with practiced care and expert insight -- and I could practically feel my member leaping for joy in my constraining pants. "I will see it;" murmured Beyond Gorgeous Psycho-Slut. "I will see the instrument of my ravising!" A tongue leapt from the face of this goddess as she yanked down my boxers and graced my surging meat with wet touches that displayed a precision and control superior to the most experienced whores, before she enveloped my cock into the slippery prison of her mouth. My knees went weak...heart thudding into my chest. She kneeled lower, bobbing her blond head upon my rigid rod.

But it wasn't like a typical blowjob -- (not that I'd had many!) There was some new element to her erotic ministrations. Her throat rumbled with a deep tone at the low range of human hearing, a savage and animalistic growl that represented wild drives far older than intelligent thought. A surge of odd sensations attacked my penis as her tongue encircled my shaft. It was not the build towards seething climax that every man is familiar with; but rather her mouth felt like an out-pouring of...energy? It was like my penis was a battery, storing voltage for future use. As though this naked, dripping slut was energizing my member. I could practically feel my virility increasing -- along with my lust.

It was too much, too incredible to believe. Not only could I not believe this was happening to me, I wouldn't even believe that anyone could make up an encounter so crazy. Women just didn't act like this. Did they? Not even prostitutes were like this. Only the most depraved clinically-diagnosed nymphomaniac seemed likely to just assault a stranger in his shower and talk this way. Although I'm not even sure if there is a clinical definition of nymphomania, but if so, Beyond-Gorgeous here fits the bill to a Tee. Could any woman be horny enough to seduce strangers this way and not be under psychiatric care?

But there was something else wrong with this cock-sucking episode; in appearance she was perfect. For me at least. She matched the culmination of all my most erotic fantasies -- everything I'd ever hoped a woman could be but never expected to encounter because of how unlikely it would be. My ultimate fantasy babe. Here, in my apartment. Trying to get me to rape her. But decides to just settle for a good, long blow-job. A very...veryy....goooood blow-job...oohhh....man...... And I remembered how the whole world seemed to be gaining acceptance for erotica and indecency, strangely...step-by-step in a way that no one seemed to notice but me. And it was too much. Her mouth slid away from my cock for a moment as she panted, eyes fixated upon my rigidness.

"Now that the male has been provoked beyond the point of no return, he will seize the female and force his desires upon her yielding flesh." she decided, the gleam in her emerald eyes beyond madness. She inhaled my cock again. And her tongue...ohhh...it seemed longer, more agile than before as she worked my rod between her wet lips.

The conspiracy...it was real...there was a plot...I knew there was...I knew it...maybe this is how it starts...

"N-NOOO!!" I jerked away, my beefy ten-inches bobbing in the bathroom light. " I don't think so lady...I don't know what kind of slutty stunt you're trying to pull, but this is too weird, and I'm not gonna play along! S-so you can just...g-get dressed and...just...leave." Where were her clothes anyway?

She seemed stunned; "You are male; I am female -- you are aroused and must force your mating drives upon my body!" Where was she getting this from?

"I uh....you're the most gorgeous babe I've ever seen but...uh...this...this is too much, too fast, it doesn't make sense. I'm not the kind of guy you seem to think I am." She squatted cat-like on the bathroom tiles, water running in rivulets down her swelling assets.

Beyond-Gorgeous shot me a venomous glance and stood up; her football-sized breasts bounced indignantly (They are bigger! At least two more inches! I'm sure!)

"No wonder your girlfriend left you! Useless..." she muttered some angry sneer under her breath as she stalked out of the bathroom. Naked. Dripping. She knew Susan? Was this some weird prank intended as some sort of sexual con? A set-up of some sort? My ultimate fantasy babe stalked to the door and fiddled with the knob before turning back and casting a sinister glance. "But you'll come crawling back...begging for me...your cock hard for me..." She nearly growled. "I can feel the way your body craves me; next time your willpower will fail you!" She challenged as she stalked off in a huff.

Naked. Dripping.

This girl, the most impossibly beautiful female I could ever imagine comes home with my roommate; probably gave him the night of his life, uses my shower, tries to seduce me...and leaves without drying off, and without clothing. Not a stitch. I stood at the open doorway dumb-founded as I watched her walk off down the hallway to the stairs that would lead past three more apartments and to the streets below. Naked. Dripping. I was mesmerized for a moment by the sinuous interplay between the toned muscles of her legs and nude, bulging ass cheeks. The light bulb in the hallway glinted off her wet skin, highlighting every glorious curve and voluptuous swell.

"But...but...your clothes!?" I wasn't sure anymore what response I should expect from her. She turned back, eyes narrowed, her hard, plump nipples catching the light from a sideways angle to give brilliant pinpoints. And she laughed. Laughed with cruel mockery. As if I was the crazy one. That rapturous face sneering at me shredded my confidence for a moment. It was a look that said 'get with the program'. And yet... as far as I knew, there were still laws against public nudity, how could she...what is she thinking? What does Beyond-Gorgeous know that I don't?

"She'll probably know the inside of a jail-cell, especially if she meets a female cop." I assured myself. "What ever's going on in the world isn't bad enough that naked people can roam the streets at will." Oopsie...then I realized that my own boxers were still down, my own rigid meat exposed in the breeze. I closed the door and resolved to get dressed. I had a busy day ahead of me, and I'd ask Jase about his screwy girlfriend next time I saw him.

I searched his room as I struggled to put pants on. His bed was surrounded on all sides by posters, mementos, and discs with recordings of Katherine McPhee from during and after American Idol. The bed was a frazzled mess of wrinkled sheets. I could see that the legs of the bed had been jostled, shifted from their prior imprint on the carpet. Someone had gotten laid last night.

Seemed odd; I'd always heard that women don't like being compared to most other women, and huge reminders that you idolize another girl was probably a turn-off most of the time. But I guess not tonight. But for now, empty room, empty bed.

So he banged her last night, and then he left in the morning...so she stays behind...for me? Huh. My pants...*URRNT* That was odd; my erection was still going strong. I should have gone soft by now, but my action-ready rod was still hot and bothered. I tried three times before I succeeded with my zipper. I couldn't remember the last time my cock had been so hard. My cock.