“Oh, hi Mrs. Hunt. I only just heard that you and your husband returned from your winter break!”
The young woman stared at the massive but ripped-as-fuck bodybuilder greeting her at the stairwell. Especially at his skimpy briefs that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.
It turned out that her imagination had been sorely lacking.
“Do I know you?” she asked, suddenly realizing that she had just been actively gaping at his dick bulge.
“It’s me, Dexter.”
“Dexter?” she spluttered, scrutinizing the muscle hunk from head to toe. “The accountant from upstairs? But he’s so… so…. And you’re so…”
The massive stud just grinned at her.
“I take it that you’re surprised at my sudden change from wimp to beefcake?” he teased, casually bouncing his slab-like pecs.
“What happened to you?” she demanded.
“Long story short, I was doing an audit at a chemicals factory and a giant vat of bubbling nastiness suddenly blew up right in my face. I woke up in hospital ten days later looking like this.”
He gestured at the bulging, hulking mass he was now proud to call his body.
“Holy, shit! Are you all right? I mean… you look fantastic and all, but are there any serious side effects?”
“Well, that’s the entire reason I was heading to your door-”
“I’m sorry?”
“I should be free every Thursday at 7, if that suits you. You husband will have to share with Mr. Wilson from number 23 and Roger Spelling from 33 on Saturday mornings, I’m afraid. Most straight men seem to be more comfortable with the idea if they pretend it’s some sort of fraternity bonding exercise.”
He frowned thoughtfully.
“Unless he’s bi, of course. Or he’s really into cuckolding. He is pretty cute and I could arrange something more up-close and personal if that suits him.”
“What on Earth are you talking about?”
“Oh, didn’t anyone explain yet?” he asked in surprise. “This new body of mine emits these super-pheromones that completely blankets every building within our block. You and your husband have been breathing in my scent for more than 20 hours now, which means both of you are now completely hooked on me. If I don’t fuck both of you soon, within three days you’ll be having massive withdrawal seizures.”
He looked at her startled expression and his cocky grin softened.
“Hey, it isn’t as bad as it sounds — within two weeks you’ll be so hooked on my scent that you’ll be begging me to split your pussy in two. By then, my weekly sessions will feel more like a reward than an ordeal. Just ask your neighbors about how they’re coping with it.”
He frowned slightly, looking thoughtful again.
“Still, I do feel really bad that you have to go through all this. I’m trying to organize a massive lawsuit against the chemicals company. If I get everyone on the block onboard, then they should get proper financial compensation for accidentally becoming my sex slaves.”
“We’re meeting up at seven thirty tonight at the café downstairs, if you’re interested. Seven fifteen, if any victims need urgent ‘Dexter ministrations’ before we start.”