The Blue Dragon: Prologue and Chapter 1

THE BLUE DRAGON

by bluedragon (bluedragonauthor@yahoo.com)

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-- PROLOGUE --

****

There’s a video of me on the internet.

No, not THAT kind of video.

It’s a video of me and my mom.

Again, it’s not THAT kind of video.

It’s a video that multiple law enforcement agencies and court injunctions have tried to take down for graphic content. But once something is on the internet, it pretty much lasts forever.

SERIOUSLY. It’s not THAT kind of video!

All of you need to shut the fuck up and stop laughing. It’s a video of when my mom died. It’s not funny.

I was just a baby when it happened. The video was taken from a traffic camera overlooking an intersection not far from our home. Mom had taken me out for a ride in my stroller. The light turned green. The crosswalk sign was illuminated. And she checked both ways before pushing my stroller out into the street.

She’d made it two-thirds of the way across the street when the speeding BMW roared into the intersection from the right side of the frame at ninety miles an hour. You can see the exact moment Mom noticed that the car was coming and desperately tried to run out of the way. But in less than a second, she’d already realized she had no chance. And with one final move of desperation, she shoved my stroller forward with all her strength, just barely managing to roll it clear of oncoming car’s path before the implacably dispassionate vehicle carried her beyond the left side of the video frame and out of view.

My stroller rolled on its own until the far curb halted the forward momentum of its front wheels. A middle-aged woman waiting to cross the street on that side stared in shock and horror for a few seconds in the direction of where the BMW had gone before rushing up to my stroller, lifting it onto the sidewalk, and then rolling it back away from the curb. She then alternated for several seconds between gawking at me in my stroller and staring off-screen. And just before the video ends, you can see her reaching into my bassinet with both arms.

I don’t know all the details, but I do know that Merethe (pronounced “Meh-RAYT-heh”) adopted me. She raised me. She took care of me. She taught me everything I know. But she never asked me to call her ‘Mom’. She never tried to hide from me that I’d been born to another woman, a woman who had protected me with her life and died in the effort of saving mine. I’d always known that my real mom had been killed by a drunk driver.

But I’d never known my real mom’s name.

Nobody did. Not even the police.

She had no identification on her. Her fingerprints weren’t in any database. Neither were mine. I had no birth certificate, no documents, nothing. Nobody knew where we’d come from.

Merethe considered my arrival an advent from God and named me Aksel. She was a single woman who had always wanted children but hadn’t yet found the right husband to have them with. She never did find the right husband, nor could I recall her ever dating in an attempt to find one. She had me, and I had her, and for twenty-five years all we really needed was each other.

Then cancer happened, and I was left all alone.

I managed just fine. Merethe had raised me well, and I’d already gotten my degree, found myself a good job, and even enjoyed the company of several beautiful young women by then.

But then one day a different beautiful young woman showed up at my door, and I’ll never forget the expression on her face or what she said next:

“Come with me if you want to live.”

****

-- CHAPTER 1: The Ax Effect --

****

“There’s a girl checking you out.”

I glanced up from my glass with arched eyebrows to meet my companion’s twinkle-eyed gaze. Rae smiled straight at me, although her irises were unfocused enough for me to tell that she was “using her peripherals” to scope out someone beyond my left shoulder.

Knowing better than to turn and look, I casually raised my glass to my lips and took a sip before muttering, “You sure she’s checking me out? Maybe she’s staring at the group of beefy gym bros just behind you.”

The petite half-Chinese cutie with the electric-blue disconnected pixie cut laughed and shook her head. “I’m sure. She’s been eye-fucking you ever since we sat down.”

I wasn’t surprised that a hot girl was staring at me - I was used to it by now - but I still gave Rae a skeptical look and asked innocently, “Now why would a girl be checking me out when I’m so obviously sitting here with you?”

Rae’s twinkle-eyed gaze refocused on me as her smile spread into more of a lopsided smirk. With her clipped upper-crust English accent, she sounded almost professorial while declaring, “Human nature and a few hundred thousand years of evolution.”

I blinked and then arched a single eyebrow. “Care to elaborate?”

“Evolution,” Rae repeated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Women have long depended on finding strong, suitable males for protection and procreation. Selective pressure favors individual traits that lead to successful mating and survival. In pre-historical times, the beefy gym bros behind me may have been ideal specimens. Today, aspirational women look for characteristics far more complex than the circumference of your biceps.”

Still holding my glass aloft with my elbow on the table, I glanced down at my arm. “You saying my biceps aren’t big enough?”

Rae giggled. “I’m saying that a handsome, well-dressed man so obviously sitting with a smoking hot babe like me is far more enticing to a girl than a group of silly boys without the smoking hot babe like me.”

“You enjoy giving yourself compliments, don’t you?”

“Well someone else hasn’t been giving me enough compliments now, has he?” Rae pouted with exaggerated theatricality and reached across the table, scratching her fingernails across the back of my left hand.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my hand back.

“Anyways,” Rae continued, “the beefy gym bros are clearly at this cocktail lounge looking to pick up chicks and they reek of desperation, which is a total turn-off. You, on the other hand, apparently have sufficient material wealth and power to possess a stunningly attractive beauty wearing a fancy dress and expensive jewelry like me.”

“I don’t ‘possess’ you,” I pointed out.

“She doesn’t know that. She thinks you possess me, and from the way I keep smiling and giggling, she thinks I’m exceedingly happy being your possession. So the platinum blonde bombshell with big tits busting out of her pink V-neck that you never even noticed can’t help but daydream about how much she might enjoy being your possession. Same for her two friends.”

I lowered my eyes to my glass and couldn’t help but smirk. “Of course I noticed the platinum blonde with big tits. And her two friends,” I admitted quietly. “But like I said: I’m obviously sitting here with you. I’m evidently taken. So wouldn’t an aspirational woman looking for evolutionary advantages look elsewhere for a more available male partner?”

Rae shrugged, “Not when stealing a prime male is better than settling for a lesser choice.”

I frowned. “You think the blonde is thinking about stealing me tonight?”

“Oh, she’s certainly considering it right at this very moment. I know her type. She and her friends came here looking for a good time. The snooty bitch fully believes that platinum blondes with big tits are better than all other girls, and she certainly believes she can make a compelling argument that she’d make a better match for you than a flat-chested shorty like me.”

I frowned again. “Weren’t you just giving yourself compliments a minute ago?”

“Oh, -I- know I’m all that and a bag of chips. Don’t worry about my self-confidence. I’m just saying I know her type, that’s all.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not interested right now.”

“Oh well that’s not true,” Rae scoffed. “You’re interested alright. I saw the way your eyes glowed when you admitted you’d noticed her and her friends. The girl’s not wrong; you definitely have a thing for platinum blondes with big tits - as do most men, evidently.”

“Doesn’t matter,” I insisted. “I’m here with you.”

“But like you said: you don’t possess me. Likewise, I don’t possess you.” Rae shrugged. “I’m not your girlfriend. We barely know each other. You don’t owe me anything. So don’t let me stop you from having a good time tonight.”

I frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Rae’s twinkle-eyed smirk was back as she stood up, leaned over the table towards me, and explained softly, “It means: I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Huh?”

My head was suddenly and forcibly rotated to the right. So abrupt and unexpected was the impact, I didn’t even register what had happened until I was already holding my cheek in surprise, feeling the flaming heat of Rae’s wicked slap.

“Goodbye!” Rae barked none-too-quietly, her face a mask of scorn as she shook out her reddened hand. Scooping the strap of her luxury purse over her shoulder, she spun on her heel and immediately marched out of the cocktail lounge without a backwards glance.

Before I could even wrap my arms around what was going on, I found myself gawking after Rae’s departing form in shock, still holding my left hand to my cheek as I wondered to myself, Was that REALLY necessary?!?

“Ohmigod, are you alright?” a high-pitched voice exclaimed from right beside me.

I dropped my hand away from my cheek and turned to find the platinum blonde bombshell standing less than two feet away. Seated as I was, the big tits busting out of her pink V-neck were front-and-center right at my eye-level - especially with her dangling crucifix necklace drawing attention to her cleavage - and it took me a moment to raise my gaze up to her face etched with deeply intrigue concern.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine,” I managed to reply before taking a deep breath to calm myself and dropping my hand down.

“What was all that about?” the blonde asked kindly, extending her fingers towards my cheek before catching herself and then crossing both arms beneath her bosom, which squished her massive melons together and created even deeper cleavage. She glanced down my ringless left hand momentarily before adding, “Did you do something to upset your girlfriend?”

“Oh, she isn’t my girlfriend,” I explained.

“She’s not?” The blonde looked surprised. “Then why did she slap you?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied casually before leaning back in my seat and favoring the blonde with a warm smile. “But I’m glad she did.”

“Really? Why?”

My smile turned into something of a wolfish grin. “Because now I get to talk to you.”

****

“Oh! My! God! Oh! My! God! Oh! My! God!”

Kayleigh’s pink V-neck was puddled at the foot of my hotel room bed. Her stiletto heels, miniskirt, and G-string were likewise nearby. The platinum blonde’s high-pitched cries echoed off the ceiling. Her girlish squeals and choked-off whimpers added fuel to the fire of my lust, sending surges of extra energy in my abs, glutes, and legs as I hammered her over and over and over again. The more noise she made, the more amped-up I became, and I reveled like a bacchanalian god in the delirious ecstasy of pistoning my powerful prick in and out of her pulsing pussy as if nothing in the entire universe made me happier than having sex.

Which was… well… quite true.

I’m a sex-addict, you see.

I wasn’t always this way. I was something of a late bloomer, not the kind of teenager you’d think would have a high success rate with the girls. It wasn’t until my senior year that I lost my virginity, to a kinda skanky cheerleader who’d hooked up with a significant percentage of the school population already. She was bored and I happened to be walking right past her when she decided she wanted dick at a house party. The next thing I knew, my pants were down behind a closed bedroom door with her lips wrapped around my heretofore untouched dick. And I’d been so shocked by what was happening that I failed at not busting my nut less than ten seconds into my first-ever blowjob.

In hindsight, the sex itself wasn’t that great (I failed at not busting my nut in less than ten seconds after we got started, as well). But from that first moment on I’d been absolutely hooked, and I’d been trying to get laid as often as I could ever since.

Which was quite often, actually.

Don’t get me wrong: I didn’t set out to be a man-whore. I wasn’t on a mission to rack up conquests or get a high score in notches on my metaphorical belt. Whenever I got together with a girlfriend, I was perfectly happy to be a loyal and attentive boyfriend for as long as the relationship lasted. I’d never cheated on a girlfriend, no matter how much extra-curricular attention I garnered from those of the fairer sex.

And I got a LOT of attention from those of the fairer sex.

Girls just… liked me.

They were attracted to me, as if drawn by a magnetic pull. It was as if some metaphysical switch had been thrown after Cindy Lou first busted my cherry. The kinda cute but rather introverted, academically studious boy that none of the girls really noticed suddenly became somebody worth noticing. Cheerleaders started smiling at me when I passed by them in the halls. Drama club divas started asking me to join their plays. Even mousy bookworm girls started eyeing me from across the room. I half-wondered whether or not there was a neon sign blinking above my head that announced I was no longer a virgin and was now a prime candidate for procreation practice.

“Oh my god! So big! You make me feel so full!” Kayleigh cried while drumming her heels against my back with her legs hooked over my shoulders. And her high praise of my manhood made me feel like my dick swelled up even thicker than it already was.

I really did have a pretty big dick. I didn’t think it was a porn-star massive horse-cock or anything, but I’d known since puberty that it was a nice-sized schlong. I supposed I had my real parents to thank for that. Whoever they were, they’d blessed me with some pretty good genes. I was tall, handsome, and well-built. Girls said my eyes seemed to glow with their own inner light, like they were “shimmering”, “sizzling”, or “crackling with electricity”. My voice had been described as “euphonic”, “sonorous”, and “spell-binding” at different times.

Not that any girls had ever described my eyes as sizzling or my voice as “sonorous” before I started getting laid, but that time of my life getting ignored by girls was long past. Nowadays I never have trouble finding female company. The difficulty, really, is finding a girl who can keep up with me.

My first girlfriend Amanda Mitchell had been a pretty good friend since middle school. She’d always been nice and seemed to like me, so when she asked if I wanted to get some bubble tea after school two days after the Cindy Lou incident, I’d been more than happy to agree. She always said she didn’t plan on sleeping with me. But when I dropped her off at home, she couldn’t help but kiss me on her doorstep. One kiss turned into two. Two turned into five. And then suddenly she was dragging me up the stairs.

We couldn’t get enough of each other for about a week. My adoptive mother Merethe had a corporate office job that kept her out of the house until dinnertime, so every afternoon Amanda and I could be found in my bedroom (and other rooms) playing hide-the-sausage. Like any horny teenage boy, I was obviously enthusiastic and hungry for sex with Amanda as often as she would agree, and she agreed quite a lot given how enthusiastic and hungry for sex with her I was. Girls like feeling special and wanted, you know?

But after a week or so, that “shiny new car” feeling started to wear off, at least for her. Amanda’s private parts were getting chafed, she started complaining of soreness, and then started complaining that I only wanted her for sex.

Like any dutiful boyfriend who wanted to maintain his reliable source of pussy, I did what I could to reassure her that I cared about more than just her body and willingness to put out. We spent more time actually studying (although I still liked to kiss her neck and fondle her breasts and remind her that my bed was nearby). We spent more time going on dates (although I still liked to start up makeout sessions in the car that frequently led to reclining the front passenger seat or getting into the back seat). And we spent more time just talking in public places where Amanda’s modesty and my own sense of propriety prevented me from trying to start up anything naughty.

It rapidly became clear that the boy’s sex drive was far higher than the girl’s in our relationship. That wasn’t an unusual state of being in the vast ocean of high school romances, so Amanda didn’t get particularly upset with me about it. But my constant carnal neediness still wore down her affection for me, and after two months it felt like she couldn’t remember why she wanted to be with me. At times, I wondered if the only reason she continued being my girlfriend was because of how brazenly other girls would hit on me, and Amanda wanted to maintain ownership of the prized possession, as it were.

But eventually Amanda got tired of putting out for me when she didn’t really feel like it, and in the end she broke up with me, exclaiming, “Let one of THEM try to satisfy your insatiable libido!”

It wasn’t a particularly bad breakup. There was no animosity or hurt feelings, and we remained casual acquaintances until the end of high school, if not close friends anymore.

I had a plethora of options as soon as Amanda and I broke up. Cheerleaders, student body officers, athletes, nerd-girls, goth chicks, and just random ordinary “girls” had been flirting with me for months. And as soon as word got out that I was single, the lionesses began to pounce.

Nobody was entirely sure why so many girls were ready to pounce, least of all me. But I didn’t question my good fortune. I simply enjoyed the attention and resolved to be patient while weighing my options.

That resolution lasted all of a single afternoon. The Senior class president nearly sideswiped me with her expensive German sedan, ordered me to get into the passenger seat, and then drove me to her mansion in the hills. I was balls-deep inside her less than ten minutes after we’d arrived, and thus Harper Greer became my next girlfriend.

For all of three weeks.

The Senior class president broke up with me via text message after the second day of school she missed due to chronic soreness in her loins. So I went home that afternoon with Shirley Farallon, a cheerleader with one of the biggest racks in the school.

Turned out, Shirley didn’t want to be my girlfriend, though. She just wanted to see what all the fuss was about. She must have enjoyed herself well enough though, because she kept coming back to fuck me off and on throughout the remainder of the school year whenever I was “between relationships”. I was more than happy to get my hands (and lips) around those juicy melons as often as she would let me.

Speaking of juicy melons, Kayleigh had a rather sweet pair herself. Cinching my arms around her waist, I hoisted the platinum blonde bombshell up into the air and then planted her back against the wall, using that extra energy in my abs, glutes, and legs to keep thrusting up into her warm and welcoming pussy over and over again while putting those big bosoms right in front of my face, perfect for motorboating.

“Oh! My! God! Oh! My! God!” Kayleigh cried while hugging my head to her chest. And what felt like five minutes later, she exclaimed in amazement, “You’re so strong! How! Can! You! Keep! Fucking! Me! Like! This?!?”

Girls had often asked me that question, wondering about my sexual stamina. After Shirley, I started dating Emily Ashton, a Math Club genius with cute glasses who ended up studying rocket science at Caltech. She was a petite thing who loved it when I walked around the room holding up her fully impaled body on my turgid tool, stating that no one else had ever been able to do it for longer than a few seconds. I didn’t have a good answer, given that I could only bench press like a hundred and fifty pounds. As it turned out, the budding scientist didn’t really care to figure out how I could do it, so long as I could do it. And I kept on doing it to her for almost two weeks straight, until the petite little thing couldn’t even walk straight anymore.

Cara came next. Then Yuna. Then Mia, Priya, and Sophia. I swear the rhyming names thing was a total coincidence. Anyways, girls were literally lining up and almost catfighting with each other for a chance to date me, much to everyone’s bewilderment and consternation.

What’s so special about that guy?

He’s good-looking, but not that good-looking.

I heard he’s not even that great in bed. He’s just a horndog who wants it all the time.

Some claimed that past success bred future success. The more girls I dated, the more other girls wanted to experience dating me for themselves. You’d think the exceptionally short durations of each relationship - coupled with my notorious reputation for being a complete sex-addict - would have dissuaded most girls from coming anywhere near me. And yet the girls kept coming and coming.

And cumming and cumming.

I really did have a magnetic sort of pull, one that couldn’t easily be defined or explained. My classmates took to calling it “The Ax Effect”, after the infamous body spray commercials and my school nickname of “Ax”, short for Aksel. Even the girls who already had boyfriends proclaimed The Ax Effect to be true, citing their mysterious attraction to me that defied all rational explanation. And boyfriends who didn’t want to hear about their girlfriends feeling irrational magnetic attractions to me quickly learned to keep their girlfriends away from me.

No matter. I didn’t want to mess around with another guy’s girl anyways. Too much inherent face-punching risk in that sort of thing. And there were plenty of other fish in the sea, you know? Single, unattached fish who quite literally swam up to me of their own accord, practically begging to get hooked.

So I hooked them.

And then I hooked them again.

And again and again and again.

“Oh! My! God! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! I’m cumming again! I’m cumming again!” Kayleigh howled as I bent her over the foot of my bed, reached around to squeeze the blonde bombshell’s big tits in my palms as I rammed my pelvis off her rump over and over and over again.

In the end, I flipped the busty beauty onto her back, parked my waving prick in her face, and stroked my own shaft at a rapid pace, ready to burst. Kayleigh levered herself up on one elbow and grabbed my ass to cram half of my cock into her mouth rather than let me blow my wad all over her pretty face. And I gave three last thrusts before unclenching my Kegels and letting loose all my creamy cum.

“Ungh! Ungh! HHHNNNGGGHHH!!!”

Kayleigh gamely sucked down it all, right down to the last drop. When I’d finished twitching and she dropped back down to my bed, gasping for air, I sat back on my heels and grinned down at the sweaty, disheveled girl.

“How do you want me to fuck you Round Two?”

“Round Two?” Kayleigh gasped.

“Round Two, Round Three, Round Four,” I remarked casually, gesturing down at my rock-hard erection that hadn’t deflated a single millimeter. “It’s still early and we’ve got all night.”

Kayleigh’s eyes went wide as she stared down at my swollen schlong, still swaying a bit as if it had a mind of its own. And she kept on staring at it as I slid off the bed, grabbed hold of her hips, and yanked her naked body around so that I could re-wrap her legs around my waist and guide my steel-hard sword straight back into her saturated snatch.

“Oh… my… god…” Kayleigh gasped slowly with a mouth gaping open in sympathetic harmony with the way she felt herself being stretched once more.

“You keep taking The Lord’s name in vain.” I smirked down at the sexy skewered girl, reaching up to thumb her crucifix necklace. “Perhaps you should be punished for blasphemy.”

“Forgive me, Father. For I have sinned.”

I bent down to kiss her quickly and grinned a devilish grin. “Oh, we’re gonna be sinning a LOT tonight.”

****

Kayleigh passed out after Round Two, and she remained facedown and unconscious while I kept rutting in and out of her flooded pussy with my erection that hadn’t gone down. She didn’t seem to mind, given that she woke up screaming yet another orgasm. And I pulled out in the end to paint the platinum blonde beauty’s big pillowy breasts.

My unrelenting erection finally relented, so I took her into the shower to clean up. And when I got hard in the shower, we started up Round Four with me holding her up against the tiled wall.

After hosing down her face (and then rinsing off her face), I helped her blow-dry her hair and we collapsed naked into bed together. The exhausted blonde who had probably never had so much sex in a two-hour period fell asleep almost immediately, and I entertained myself by running my hands all over her warm, creamy skin until I too surrendered to sleep with my semi-hard schlong sandwiched between her buns.

In the morning, I kissed Kayleigh awake before sliding down beneath the covers and slipping my sinuously long tongue into her snatch. She squeaked and squealed and ultimately spread her thighs apart when I re-mounted her. And she once again took up the cry of “Oh! My! God! Oh! My! God!” until I filled her sore snatch with yet another helping of steaming sperm.

As usual, I didn’t go soft at all after my first ejaculation. But when I resumed pumping her pussy with my still-hard shaft, the worn-out and sodden girl put her palm to my chest and pleaded for no more.

I immediately stopped and pulled out. Merethe had raised me to always respect a woman’s wishes, no matter how much my sex-addict brain might desire otherwise. Still, I gave Kayleigh my best puppy-dog look and asked, “Can I fuck your tits?”

The disheveled blonde barked a laugh, gave me a rueful head-shake of disbelief, and finally sighed with a smile. “You’re an animal.”

I blinked twice and then asked hopefully, “Is that a ‘yes’?”

Kayleigh laughed again and then grabbed her big bosoms from the sides, squeezing the globes together to create mouthwatering cleavage in lieu of a verbal response. And I happily straddled her chest, parked my prick into her tunnel of lush titflesh, and rutted away to my heart’s content until I finally sighed, “Oh, Kayleigh…” and let the floodgates open.

My first spurt sprayed a line of jism across her forehead and the bridge of her nose, but Kayleigh quickly wrapped her lips around my spitting mushroom head and swallowed the rest of my cum. I probably could’ve kept going but recognized that she was ready to wrap up and go home. And after dismounting her chest and swinging my legs off the side of the bed, I caressed her thigh and asked, “Would you like me to order some room service?”

“No, that’s alright. I should probably get home.” The platinum blonde sighed and then used one finger to scrape up the line of jism from her forehead and nose before grabbing some tissues off the nightstand and blotting her face. “Don’t you need to get going as well? Catch a flight? Or was the whole bit about going from city to city on a search for a long-lost archaeological site just a clever pickup line?”

“Not a pickup line,” I assured her. “But I also don’t need to leave for the airport until 9 AM.”

Kayleigh glanced at the clock and gave me another rueful head-shake. “Jesus Christ, it’s not even eight o’clock on a Saturday morning. Can’t remember the last time I was awake this early.”

“Sorry,” I apologized. “I should’ve let you sleep in, but with your lush, naked body right next to me--”

“You woke up horny and couldn’t resist,” she finished for me. “What was that, six times in the matter of hours? You’re insatiable.”

“You’re inspiring.”

Kayleigh smiled. “I suppose I should take it as a compliment.”

“Yes, please do.”

“So if I stick around for breakfast, does that mean you’ll try to jump me at least one more time between now and your nine o’clock meeting?”

I waggled my head, admitting, “Yeah, probably.”

“Good lord, Aksel. You’re an animal.”

“Grr…” I growled, waggling my eyebrows and letting myself leer all over Kayleigh’s still-naked body.

She giggled and tugged the duvet over herself, biting her lip and shaking her head. “I’m sore enough already. Feels like I won’t be able to walk straight for a month.”

I smirked and arched an eyebrow. “But it was worth it, wasn’t it?”

After a moment’s thought, she nodded silently with a wide grin. “Yes. It was worth it. An absolutely incredible night that I’ll remember forever.”

I grinned as well. “I’m very glad you enjoyed yourself. Can I call you the next time I’m in town?”

“Oof.” Kayleigh looked momentarily anxious about the prospect, but after taking a deep breath, she smiled and replied, “Yes you can. But…”

I waited a few seconds to finish that sentence before leading, “But…”

The platinum blonde’s brilliant smile lit up the room. “But give me at least a month to figure out how to walk straight again, hmm?”

****

“Good morning, Mr. Andersen. Can I get you anything else?”

“No thank you,” I replied with a warm smile to the pretty airline flight attendant.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her gaze fixed on my eyes. I knew from past experience that the young woman was practically hypnotized by my ‘sizzling’ irises. And she pouted before finishing, “It would be my… pleasure.”

“Thank you, Mary. I’m just fine,” I insisted, double-checking the flight attendant’s nametag and reaching up to pat the hand that she had laid atop my shoulder.

She briefly squeezed her fingers around it before finally letting go and standing up straight and turning her attention to my right. “And you, Miss?”

“I’m good, thank you,” Rae replied merrily from the domestic first-class seat next to me.

Mary gave her a curt look before turning back to me with a much sweeter smile. “Well, please call me should you need anything,” Mary insisted before turning and heading forward towards the galley.

Once the flight attendant was gone, Rae leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “You’re missing out. That girl is all hot and bothered to initiate you into the Mile High Club.”

“What makes you think I haven’t already been initiated into the Mile High Club?” I retorted softly before gesturing around the cabin. “Besides, I’m not about to bring a flight attendant into an aircraft lavatory in the middle of the day where everyone can see us.”

“Everyone’s got their noise-cancelling headphones on while watching in-flight movies,” Rae pointed out with a dismissive wave. “The question is: Why is that girl all hot and bothered to initiate you into the Mile High Club?”

“Something, something, human nature and evolution, right?”

Rae rolled her eyes before narrowing her iris and then sitting up a little straighter in her seat, adding, “Then there was the gate attendant, not to mention the dozen or so women in the boarding area scoping you out. The check-in counter agent. The girls at the cocktail lounge last night, specifically the platinum blonde with the big tits doing the walk of shame out of the hotel lobby this morning.”

I blushed. “Oh, you saw her leaving?”

Rae rolled her eyes. “I was having breakfast in the restaurant when she tried to walk out. Appeared rather bow-legged, if you know what I mean. What did you DO to that poor girl?”

“She’s a ‘poor girl’ now? Didn’t you refer to her type as a ‘snooty bitch’ last night?”

Rae waved me off and then balled her hand into a raised fist. “Female Solidarity in the end. Have to feel sympathy for any poor girl looking like that.”

“I seem to recall you were the one orchestrating events that resulted in her ‘looking like that’.”

“Don’t blame ME for your excessively debaucherous actions,” Rae rebuked severely in her English accent. “I just thought you would show her a good time, not run her over with a Mack truck.”

“Kayleigh and I did have a good time,” I insisted.

“Well I suppose I should be happy that you at least got her name instead of just wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am,” Rae grumbled.

“That’s not how I do things.”

“All evidence to the contrary,” Rae drawled, gesturing around the airplane as we flew hundreds and hundreds of miles away.

I sighed and sank deeper into my seat, looking up and around the plane. “None of this was MY idea, remember? You’re the one who dropped into my life out of the blue and insisted we go on a hare-brained quest for some magical artifact. I wouldn’t have even been in Chicago if it wasn’t for you, let alone leaving Chicago.”

Rae’s eyes got wide as she leaned in close and hissed, “Can you please ixnay any discussion of the artifactyay in a public ace-spay?”

I groaned and waved around. “Noise-cancelling headphones. In-flight movies. And you didn’t seem to care about the public ace-spay while weighing judgment over my sex life.”

“Right. Back to the more important subject.” Rae sat up straight and grinned, looking freshly energized and focused. “How long has that been going on anyway?”

“How long has what been going on?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Rae remarked knowingly, and if I didn’t know any better, I might’ve said her irises… sizzled. But it was just for a moment, perhaps a trick of the light. And then she continued softly, “The mysterious attractive force you can’t quite explain. The way girls can’t help but find themselves gazing dreamily at you as if their eyes are drawn by magnets. The way the sound of your voice seems to hypnotize them regardless of the actual words coming out of your mouth. How long has that been going on?”

Rae’s eyes had been steadily boring into me, uncomfortably piercing as if she could see straight through my flesh and bone and peer deep within my very soul. Swallowing thickly, I pursed my lips and fixed my gaze forward, feeling somewhat defensive as I muttered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Rae chuckled lightly and turned to face forward as well, drawling beneath her breath, “Yeah I’m sure you don’t.”

And then she fell mercifully silent for once.

It felt like I could count on one hand the number of times Rae had been silent since the first time I’d met her. The girl could talk for hours about anything and everything, asking a million questions about me and volunteering precious little about herself. In all honesty, I had no real reason to believe her story, to believe she was telling me the truth. And not for the first time, I wondered to myself just how I’d managed to get into this situation flying off to different cities far from home with a person who could turn out to be a serial killer for all I knew.

And then I remembered how two days ago, I’d almost ended up dead. I would have been dead if Rae hadn’t shown up and saved my life, actually.

Two days ago, I’d been working a perfectly normal job just minding my own business and enjoying my life.

Two days ago, I’d been perfectly content living in blissful ignorance of the danger I was in.

Two days ago, I would have continued the rest of my life with no higher priority than getting laid as often as I possibly could.

Because The Ax Effect was real, whether or not I could particularly explain it. Its power varied, with some girls influenced more than others. Some acted as if they’d fallen deeply in love with me at first sight. Others felt little more than a mild fondness. But to at least some degree more or less, each and every single girl or woman I’d ever met in my entire life since I’d lost my virginity had been affected by my mysterious magnetic attraction.

All except one, come to think of it.

I mean, Rae definitely seemed to like me, but now that I had time to stop and think about it, for two days I’d never caught her gazing longingly in my direction, never seen her touch the spot above her racing heart, never witnessed her spacing out hypnotically at the sound of my voice. All things considered, Rae acted more like a dude around me than like an enraptured young woman under the influence of my wordless spell.

“Hey, wait a minute,” I muttered, turning to look at the blue-haired girl next to me with a perplexed expression. “Why doesn’t The Ax Effect work on you?”

Rae immediately giggled. “Is that what you call it?”

I merely rolled my eyes.

Rae sat up and turned to face me with a smirking Cheshire grin. Her irises sizzled, and I do mean they sizzled.

“Simple,” she replied affably before leaning in close and whispering conspiratorially, “I’m not completely human. And neither are you.”

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