The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. Come on you bitch pick up the phone.

"Hello?" said a voice on the other end of the line. About goddamn time!

"Is this Diane?" Dean asked.

"Yes. Who is this?" asked the woman. She sounded annoyed.

"It's raining penguins." said Dean. There was a moment's pause, and then:

"Yes sir."

Then she hung up. Dean touched the red button on his iPhone display, and then swiped across to his online banking app. It took a few minutes because reception wasn't great, but in the end Dean saw that his bank balance had been increased by two million dollars. He grinned and tucked his phone away in his pocket.

"Try it again now." he said to the guy behind the counter, and handed him his card. The guy didn't seem that impressed, considering they'd tried the same card three times, and it had come up 'declined' every time. The salesman didn't expect any real change, not after a phone call like that. Frankly he wished that Dean would go away. There were other people milling around the lot. He could be out there right now giving them his polished sales pitch instead of wasting his time with some guy who didn't seem to be serious. He swiped the card, the machine spat out a long piece of paper which he gave to Dean to sign for the fourth time. He checked the signature against the card again (surprise surprise), and hit the enter button on the machine to show that the signature had been approved. He stared at the little LED screen, and practically gaped when the word 'approved' flashed on the screen, spitting out another long piece of paper, the receipt and proof of purchase.

"Holy shit." said the salesman, temporarily forgetting his manners. Dean just smiled, and held out a hand for his receipt.

Fifteen minutes later Dean drove away from the car lot in a brand new BMW, chuckling in satisfaction. It had been more than a year since he'd put Diane under his spell, and given the very successful lawyer the suggestion to 'donate' money to him every time he said the phrase 'it's raining penguins'. It was good to know that suggestions made while under his special influence didn't wear off. Dean idly turned a corner, not really caring where he was going, but enjoying the smooth drive and handling of his new car. He had a complimentary full tank of gas, and he decided that he'd use it up just driving around town. He deserved a bit of a rest, he felt. The past month had been busy for Dean, what with one thing and another.

A month ago, he'd walked away from the house of Julie and her two daughters, Vanessa and Haley. He'd been living with them for a year, making them his own personal fuck slaves, completely under his spell and eager to follow his every command. For a solid year he'd fucked, screwed, and sucked his fill, until finally it had all taken its toll on him. In a fit of tears he realized that he'd become desensitized to the pleasure and excitement that sex normally brought, and it was now impossible for him to reach climax, or even remain fully erect. That realization led to another, and then another. He was completely exploiting the three women, robbing them of their lives. It was worse than stealing. He had to leave; it was the only decent thing to do. So he'd packed his things and left, pausing only to remove all of the suggestions he'd planted in their minds, and telling them to forget all about him, and what he'd had them do with him for the past year.

After that, Dean had started to put his life back together. He'd still had a lot of money left over from the first time he'd visited Diane, so he decided to put it to good use, and bought a house. After that he'd been wrapped up in creating a home for himself. The shopping for furniture, the renovations, the painting and heavy lifting, it was a lot of work. But at last it was all done, and Dean could finally just . . . relax.

***

Dean passed a café, and realized that he would very much like a coffee. Coffee was great, and it had been a few days since he'd had a cup. He parked his new car, sat down at the nearest empty table and basked in the warm afternoon sun.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

Dean looked up at the young man in the small black apron and fake smile.

"I'll have an orange mocha frappuccino." he said cheerfully, and enjoyed the cringe he got in response. "Not really. Just a large cappuccino please, with two sugars."

A few minutes later he had his coffee, and he took his first sip. He closed his eyes and savoured the taste. Goddammit he loved coffee.

"Is that . . . Dean?"

He looked up at hearing his name, but he didn't quite recognize the voice. It was a woman's voice, vaguely familiar but not enough for him to picture a face or a name. He looked around, and immediately noticed a young girl waving at him as she approached his table. She was cute, with long curly black hair and tanned skin. She sat down at his table, all smiles.

"I haven't seen you in ages! How've you been?" she said. She had an accent that sounded English, but not quite. Dean was still at a loss as to who she was. She obviously knew him, but he was embarrassed that he couldn't remember her at all.

"Do I know you?" he asked, not sure what else to say. There could have been better ways to let her know that he couldn't remember who she was, but luckily she laughed as though he'd just told a hilarious joke.

"Dean, it's me! Fiona!"

Then suddenly his memory kicked in and he remembered. Of course! How could he forget Fiona, from Australia? She was his first. Not the first woman to sleep with him, but the woman with whom he realized he could manipulate the thoughts and behaviour of all women.

"Oh my god!" he said, smiling at his sudden realization. "I can't believe I didn't recognize you. How are you?"

They hugged as they both laughed.

"What are you doing here?" Dean asked her. "I thought you were only going to visit the states. That was, what, a year ago now? Are you back again or what?"

"Oh yea I totally had to come back. I had such fun the first time around, I decided to move here!"

"Really?"

"Absolutely. I was just on my way to look at a place to stay. I saw the ad on the website, and it looked like it was affordable and comfortable."

She started to look a little bit harried as she said this, and Dean picked up on it.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing really. I'm just not quite sure how to get there. I'm used to using public transportation in Australia. It's not the same around here, and I've had to rely on walking, but it's just so easy to get lost."

"Well, do you have the address?" he asked.

"Of course."

"Well come with me, I'll take you there."

She brightened up considerably, looking at him with bright and shining eyes.

"Are you serious?"

"Sure. Come on, let's go. Right now."

He stood up and ushered her out of her chair, abandoning his half-finished cup of coffee, and leading her to his new car. Fiona made appropriately impressed noises as she saw it, and jumped in the moment he opened the door for her.

He started driving, following her pointed directions as she consulted a scrap of paper with shorthand scribbles on it. It took less than five minutes to pull up at a quaint little house amongst other similar quaint looking houses. Fiona squealed as they pulled to a halt, and bolted out of the car to run up to the front door. She knocked, and it opened from the inside as Dean got out of the car as well. Inside was a man who looked bored and unimpressed with the world in general. Fiona bounced up and down as she announced that she was here to look at the house. He didn't really react, but made way for her jump inside to look around. Dean ambled his way up the front steps with his hands in his pockets, grinning in amusement at Fiona's excitement. The guy looked him up and down.

"You her boyfriend or something?" he asked. Dean glanced at him, and decided that the guy wasn't really interested on finding out one way or the other, but was just striking out for something to talk about to break the awkward silence.

"No. Just a friend." he said. Fiona's footsteps could be heard running this way and that elsewhere in the house. After a moment she ran back into the main room, and beamed at Dean.

"This place is awesome!" she yelped, and ran off again into another room. Dean laughed.

"How much?" he asked the guy.

"The rent is $500 a week. Three people, maybe two, will be able to afford it easily." he said.

"That's a rip off." said Dean, but the guy just shrugged.

"That's pretty much standard in this area. I've been meaning to rent out this place for a while now, just for the extra cash."

"So you're the owner?"

The guy nodded.

"How much to buy it?"

Now the guy did react. He laughed in Dean's face.

"More than you could afford." he chuckled.

"Just tell me how much, dick."

"The house cost $500,000 when I first took the mortgage. I reckon I've paid $800,000 all up over the years."

"I'll give you a million."

The guy laughed again, then saw that Dean wasn't laughing, and started to gape.

"You're serious?"

Dean took out his chequebook and wrote out a million dollars payable to cash. He tore it off and handed it to the astonished former homeowner.

"Here. Now piss off."

***

By the time that Fiona and Dean had gotten all of her stuff from her hotel room to her new home, it was starting to get dark. Fiona tossed the third and final suitcase into a corner with the others, and slumped down on the couch.

"So, yesterday I was a bum living out of a hotel, but now I own, that's right OWN, my own house. That's just crazy!"

Dean chuckled and sat down on the couch beside her. She shifted around to get up onto her knees, leaning forward to whisper in his ear.

"I had no idea you were so rich and powerful." she said teasingly. "I think I can guess what you'd like in return for such generosity."

Her hand was resting on his thigh, and it started to slowly travel north as she kissed his cheek, and then his neck. Her fingers brushed up against his crotch, but the touch didn't stir anything, and Dean pulled away to move a little way down the couch. He remembered the suggestions he'd left with Fiona when they'd last seen each other in Australia, that she'd remember the fun they'd had fondly, and that they'd always be good friends. He appreciated her affection, but it still didn't make any difference to his situation. She immediately picked up that something was up, and started to pout.

"What's wrong?" she asked, half joking. "You don't like me anymore?"

"It's not that." he said. Her face fell when she realised that he was serious, and that something was wrong. She decided to pull things back a little bit, for the time being anyway.

"Well, something's going on. Tell me about it." she said, and leaned back against the arm of the couch to play her part as the eager listener.

Dean tried to talk, opening his mouth a couple of times to start, but nothing would come out. He had no idea how to start, or even what he should tell her. He didn't want to reveal his special power, but how else would he be able to tell Fiona what was wrong? He eventually decided that he couldn't tell her the complete truth, but a modified version might work.

"I just got out of a bad breakup." he said. It was practically true anyway. Even though his situation with Julie, Haley and Vanessa hadn't really been a relationship, leaving them and disappearing from their lives could be considered a kind of breakup. "We met shortly after I met you, actually. We met in a supermarket."

And then Dean told her almost everything, tastefully editing parts of it. He revealed that he'd shared his relationship with Julie with two other women, but neglected to mention that they were also her daughters. He talked about how great the sex was for most of the time, until recently. He told Fiona how hard it was for him to even get an erection anymore, much less have an orgasm. By the time he finished talking about it the stars were out, and Fiona had to go around the house, turning on all the lights.

"That's quite a story." she said. Her face was impassive, and Dean couldn't really tell what she thought about the whole thing. "So, what? You didn't want sex in return for buying me a house?"

"That's right."

"So what do you want?"

Dean shrugged. In truth he hadn't wanted anything other than to help out a friend, and he told her so.

After a while things started to get a little uncomfortable, so Dean got up to leave.

"Wait a minute." she said, and rushed over to him. "I'm having a house warming party tomorrow night. I'd like you to come."

She pressed herself up against him, putting her hands in the pockets of his pants. She was a little shorter than him, so she was looking straight up at him, and he was looking straight down at her. He smiled at her impish expression, and told her he'd be there.

He almost told her that he wouldn't. It's a good thing he decided to go, because it turned out to be the best decision he'd ever made.

***

The next evening, right on cue, Dean showed up at Fiona's new house in a crisp new suit, and carting a bottle of wine. It was a cheap one, but Dean had always like it, and to him that was what mattered when it came to wine. He thought he'd have been a little bit early, since the sun was still up, but as it turned out he was the last one to arrive. Everyone cheered when he came in the door. Apparently Fiona had been very talkative about how she'd acquired her new home, and everyone was lining up to shake Dean by the hand. They were mostly Australian, he could tell by the accents, and most of the guys present had that kind of bronzed, suntanned look. The girls just looked gorgeous, naturally.

The last person to greet Dean was strange, and gave Dean a funny feeling in his gut. The feel of her hand in his as they shook, it felt like a mild electric shock across his whole palm. It wasn't unpleasant, but warm and tingly. He liked it. He looked up into the eyes of the woman who made his skin tingle, and was intrigued by what he saw.

If ever there was a woman who fit the description of the term 'surfer chick', then she was standing in front of dean right now. She had dark, Mediterranean olive skin, with dark shining deep brown eyes. Her hair had the stiff, starched quality that came about from daily exposure to the ocean, and was hanging in rough dreadlocks down her back, held from her face by a brightly coloured bandana. Dean couldn't help himself, and let his eyes roam up and down her body. Her baggy jeans hung from her hips with a belt, and the jacket she was wearing was cut off just below her chest, leaving her entire midriff exposed. There was just a bikini top under the jacket.

She held Dean's hand for a long time, looking into his eyes with a cheeky grin. Her eyes shimmered with genuine amusement. He could tell that this woman's life was an adventure unto itself.

"It's nice to finally meet you." she said. "Fiona's talked so much about you already, it's like I already know you. My name is Willow."

"Nice to meet you Willow." said Dean politely. Someone had turned on some music, with a lot of heavy bass and flowing rhythmic melodies. Dean couldn't place the song, or the band, but he liked it. Already people were starting to dance, holding their drinks up in the air and shaking their hips like tourists when they hear the native music turn on.

"You know, as much as Fiona's told me, I'm sure that there's a lot more to your friendship that she hasn't."

Dean locked eyes with the wild woman in front of him, who was still smiling at him. It was a very knowing smile. For a moment, Dean thought that she might know that Fiona had been manipulated into being friends with him. But how could she possibly know?

"I mean, the two of you meet in a hotel room, and the next day, the two of you are best friends. Lovers, even. She even admitted that there was another woman sharing your room at one point. I have to say I was intrigued."

That made Dean nervous. The house was warm, especially with all the laughing people dancing in the living room, but a cold sweat was trickling down the back of Dean's neck. Willow seemed to know the effect she was having on him, because her smile got bigger. Then without warning she pulled him into the throng of dancing people. She let go of him, and began to dance with the rest of them, facing Dean all the time, and always with her eyes locked with his. For a minute, Dean was the only one not dancing. Dean didn't really like to dance, because he was never good at it. He felt self-conscious being in the middle of the impromptu dance floor. He obviously looked as nervous as he felt, because Willow's fingers gripped his chin and forced his head back up to look at her.

"Don't look at them." she whispered, tossing her head to the rest of them. "Look at me. It's just the two of us here, Dean."

The throbbing bass of the music was primal and deep. Willow put her arms over her head and twirled her wrists as she writhed her hips around in circles, much like a belly dancer. Something stirred in Dean as he watched her, something that he thought he'd lost forever. He was getting aroused. He didn't know what it was, but something about Willow excited him, and at the very least made him want to dance with her. He started out small, stepping from side to side to the beat. She giggled, but she also took a step closer to him, until their bodies were almost touching.

"You're not used to this, are you Dean?" she said softly. Dean could barely hear her over the music, but somehow he still heard. "You're out of your element, your comfort zone. This is the first time in a long time that you haven't been in control, isn't it?"

She emphasised the word 'control', savouring it like it was a delicate flavour on her tongue. It registered to Dean, set off an alarm bell in his head. But it was drowned out by the music, by the sight of her dancing in front of him, and the warm, musky smell coming off her.

"You know something about me, don't you?" said Dean. He wasn't in any mood to play games. Besides, he was now convinced that Willow knew about his special power somehow. Right now, though, he didn't really care. He was having the most fun he could remember having, dancing with her right now.

Willow smiled at him, and abruptly stopped dancing. She turned on her heel to disappear into the small crowd of people. He chased after her without any hesitation. He wasn't concerned that she knew more than she should, or that she might tell anyone. He just wanted to dance with her some more. It was like the handshake, the electric shock. Being in her presence seemed to electrify his soul. There was a word that he knew described her perfectly, but he couldn't quite remember what it was.

She was waiting for him at the far end of the room, by the staircase that led to the second floor. She was leaning against the doorframe with one leg hitched up, like she was just lounging. Her smile was still wide as she saw him, and trotted upstairs, beckoning him with a finger. Upstairs in the hallway, the music was muted, but could still be felt through the floor. Willow was waiting for him, but now her face was serious. She touched his hand, and the same electricity tingled his skin.

"There's a lot we need to discuss, but before we do, I have to show you something. This way you will understand."

Without waiting for a response from him, she turned around and opened one of the doors in the hallway.

"Kevin. Can you come here please?" she said. She stepped back, and a young man came out of the room, which from where Dean was standing he could tell it was the bedroom. Kevin looked shy and seemed a little ashamed that he'd been found in the bedroom. Dean was immediately suspicious.

"What were you doing in there?" he asked him.
"I was waiting for Stephanie." Kevin replied. "She said that wanted to give me a surprise, and that I should wait for her in the bedroom."

Dean snorted. Every party he'd been to there was something like this going on, a couple sneaking into the host's bedroom to fool around. Childish.

"Stephanie's downstairs, Kevin." said Willow. "She's talking to Tim."

Kevin looked crestfallen.

"She is?"

Willow gently shushed him and stroked his cheek.

"Ginsay." she whispered. Dean noticed that Kevin's face went completely blank, and he was completely still. Dean recognized that reaction, he'd seen it almost every day for a year. Kevin was under the same power that Dean had, but it was Willow's power. She had a word to put people under, just like him! Only it seemed hers worked on men.

"Kevin, you will go downstairs, and walk right up to Tim and Stephanie." Willow said to Kevin. "You will punch Tim in the face to knock him down, and then you will kiss Stephanie with all the passion and desire that you have within you. You are no longer a shy little boy. From now on you are a man, confident and content. Tell Stephanie how you feel."

After all of his instructions had been given to him, she told him to wake up. He did, and instantly he looked like a different person. Not a shy, mumbling boy, but a man filled with firm determination. He strode away downstairs, and out of sight.

"You have a word too!" Dean said, no longer able to hold in his surprise. Willow just smiled at him and nodded.

"I thought it would be easier to show you, rather than tell you." she said.

"Are you sure that it was a good idea to tell him to punch some guy in the face? That just sounds like it has way too much potential to go wrong."

"Oh, don't worry. Tim knows what's coming. I had a talk with him and he agreed to play out this charade for Kevin's sake. In reality it was Stephanie who asked Tim for help with Kevin. When Tim told me I talked with him, and we decided that this would be the best way to help them both."

"Wait, did you have a talk with Tim, or did you have a . . . 'talk' with him?"

The question made Willow laugh, and she put a hand on his chest, making his heart tingle with the electricity.

"Just a regular talk. It wouldn't work if I tried the other way on him anyway. Our words, as you call them, don't work on each other."

Willow read the expression on Dean's face after hearing that.

"That's right." she said. "There are more of us. Hundreds, maybe more."

"This is amazing! I have so many questions."

"Not right now." she said, and put a finger to his lips. "There's something more important that we need to help you with first."

With great confidence and ease, Willow put her hand on Dean's crotch, and gripped it firmly. The feeling of electricity that he felt every time he touched her was even more intense, but it also felt so good.

"How are you doing that?"

"It feels amazing, doesn't it?" she whispered in his ear. "Fiona told me about your little problem. I'm just touching you, nothing else. It always feels this way when one of us touches another."

At long last, after a month of trying and eventually giving up, Dean got a boner. Willow gripped it firmly through his pants, and moaned in his ear. He could feel her hot breath on his cheek and neck. Without really thinking about it, he put his hands on her waist and pulled her closer. Their lips were close to each other now, so close that neither one of them would have to move forward if they wanted to kiss. Dean wanted to kiss her, so very much. But he could tell that Willow was leading up to something, and that whatever it was would be fantastic, worth holding back on a little kiss at least.

"The tingle helps, doesn't it?" she whispered, pressing her body against his. Her hand was still on his raging member, straining against his pants. She stroked a little as she spoke. "But it's not the answer to your problem. You've made the same choices that all of us, especially the men, make when we discover our gift. We have the power to utterly and completely manipulate the opposite sex however we wish. That usually means we use it for easy sex."

Willow pulled Dean by his cock back into the bedroom, and he closed the door without realising it. He was rewarded with another smile from her.

"But that ultimately leads to forgetting what sex is really about, Dean."

She gripped the front of his shirt with both hands and ripped it open, scattering buttons all over the room. His chest exposed, Willow ran both her hands through the hair on it, and pulled the shirt and jacket of his suit down his arms, and dropping it on the floor.

"For the past year, sex for you has been about control." she said, taking off her own jacket. "You control your women into doing what you want, however you want it. It feels good to be in control, it's intoxicating and powerful. Even if you give back, make your women feel good, they're only feeling good because you tell them to. You know that, deep down, it's all you. You control them in every way."

She threw off her own jacket, and with one hand undid the buckle of her belt. Her jeans crumpled to the floor, and she stepped out of them, wearing only a slim bikini. In the dim light of the lamp by the bed, Dean could tell that she sunbathed nude. The music was thudding through the floor, he could feel it through his feet. The sound and feel of the music, and the sight of this wild woman in front of him, biting her lip as she stepped towards him, made him feel that nothing was really real. This couldn't possibly be real, could it?

Willow jumped up without warning and wrapped her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck. Dean stumbled, but caught her, and their lips met in a hot, furious embrace that made him weak at the knees. The electric tingle was strong, crackling when their tongues met, and sizzling over everywhere else. It was the most intense kiss Dean had ever had. Suddenly, Willow got down, breaking the kiss. She practically tore off Dean's pants, breaking the zipper, and almost swiping his feet out from under him as she threw them away. She'd managed to take his underwear off at the same time, and now he was completely naked with this woman. She threw him back onto the bed, stronger than she looked, and his erect cock stood straight up in the air. Willow smiled and laughed, deep and throaty, as she hooked her thumbs into her bikini bottoms, and let them fall to the floor. With one hand she pulled the string of her top at her back, and it too fell to the floor. With smooth movements she knelt down in front of the bed, tenderly gripping his rigid cock with her fingertips, and licked the entire length of it from base to tip. Dean's body jerked with the shock her tongue gave him.

"Sex is not about control, Dean." she whispered to him, licking his cock again with each breath. "You're very hard right now. Tell me, do you feel in control of this situation?"

"No." said Dean with a laugh. "I can honestly say that I do not feel in control right now."

Willow smiled, and kissed the glistening tip. It stung, but with intense pleasure instead of pain.

"Sex is about passion, and desire. Sex is emotion, raw and powerful. Sex is spiritual and personal. None of these things can be controlled, Dean. That's why control doesn't last. You need to set yourself free. You've been dominated by your own lust, and over time it's become empty of everything that gave it any meaning. Empty lust is nothing, and that's why your body has lost interest."

"Well that doesn't seem to be a problem anymore." said Dean. She smiled at him with genuine pleasure, and took the entire length of his cock in her mouth, sucking and slurping with obscene gulping noises. Dean almost came right then and there, but was somehow able to hold back. This was the most amazing feeling he could remember having, he didn't want to fall victim to the trap of premature ejaculation. he wanted this to last. His eyes were locked with her wide, beautiful untamed brown eyes.

Untamed. That was the word he'd been trying to think of. This woman was a free spirit, shameless and wild. That was what made her so exciting, so exotic and sexy. She took her time sucking his dick, savouring every moment. She deep throated it, brushing her lips against his pubic hair, and gagged a little bit as it was squeezed by the back of her throat. When she pulled back she coughed, and his dick was covered with gooey, stringy saliva. Willow smiled as it strung out between her wet lips and the head of his cock, then slurped it back up as she swallowed his cock again, bobbing her head up and down and sucking hard. Dean was groaning loudly and writhing on the bed. It was a real struggle to hold back on his building climax. Luckily Willow was just as good at holding him back as she was at sucking dick. When she felt him get too close, she would pinch the skin at the base of his dick, or bite the head of it just enough to hurt, before carrying on. At one point she took his wet dick in her hand and jacked him off as she took his balls in her mouth, rolling each one around with her tongue and sucking on them. After that she started to tenderly and lovingly suck on just the head, swirling her tongue around it again and again. Dean couldn't help himself, he put both his hands on her head, lacing his fingers through her dreads. She didn't stop him, but intensified her administrations, and Dean was moaning even louder. She kept going right up until the point where Dean was about to lose control, and at that moment, Dean didn't care if he did. Willow was making him feel as good as he ever did, and he was about to cum for the first time in months. Why bother holding back? However, before he could finish, she stopped, and started blowing gently on his dick, wet with her spit. The cold rush helped cool him down, and settle his rising climax. Both of them were breathless from the experience.

"That was completely amazing." he said, and Willow laughed.

"I'm glad I could help." she said. She crawled onto the bed, crawling over him. Dean caught a glimpse of the unshaven mound between her legs. At that moment Dean realised that he'd never been with a girl with such a hairy bush before. Seeing one now added to the excitement. He could feel the tip of his dick rubbing against her smooth flat belly, then the rough feeling of her pubes, and finally the hot tingling wetness of her moist pussy. Both of them shuddered and sighed with the feeling of it. Dean had to remember that whatever she was doing to him, he was probably doing to her as well.

"But now the time for talking is over. Hold on to something, Dean." she said, and with expert ease lowered her hips down, letting her moist pussy slip neatly down the length of his cock. At that moment, the universe was separated into two parts. One part was just Dean and Willow in the bed, and the other part was everything else. The two of them were lost in the miasma of carnal, primal pleasure of each other's bodies.

Her hips were moving to the beat of the music still throbbing below them. Their faces were buried in each other's necks, and occasionally one of them would kiss or lick, or even bite the skin there. Willow was leaning heavily on her elbows on either side of Dean's head, her fingers tangled with his hair as she pumped her ass up and down. Dean's hands were free to roam all over Willow's tight, smooth skin. Sometimes he gripped her generously shaped ass cheeks. He reached back and slapped her bobbing ass, and was rewarded with a small squeal from her, and she bit his neck in response. It felt good when she did it, so he did it again. She groaned and lifted her head to kiss him hard. He lifted his other hand to slap her other ass cheek, and she gasped, biting his lower lip.

Downstairs the music had changed. It was slower now, but still loud and with lots of bass that beat through the floor. Willow sat up, grinding her hips to the new rhythm. Her eyes were closed now, lost in her own body, but Dean's eyes were wide open. He drank in the sight of her, at her bronze skin glistening with sweat. Her modest breasts were jiggling with every movement, and he reached up to take them both in his hands. They filled his hands neatly, like they were made for him. She smiled, her eyes still closed, and put her hands over his, pressing them hard against her chest. He squeezed her soft, supple breasts, and she moaned approvingly. He raised his knees off the bed, sliding his feet closer to himself, and she leaned back against his thighs. In this position Dean could thrust upward to meet her grinding hips. He managed to detach one hand from her chest, and move straight to her bushy crotch. He found her hard clit with his thumb and began rubbing it back and forth. Willow's moans reached a new octave, and she started to pinch her nipple hard, pulling on it. Dean did the same with her other breast, copying her, and started to rub her clit even faster. Willow's breath was coming in short, shallow breaths now, and her hips were moving with increased urgency. She was about to cum, he could tell. He smiled and rubbed harder, getting another squeal out of her.

The music changed again. Now it was faster than the first song. Willow's eyes snapped open, and she smiled broadly as she leaned forward again. This time, instead of resting on her knees, she hiked one leg up so that her foot was planted by his side. She was still on one knee, leaning all the way forward so that their faces were close once more, but now she had the leverage with her other leg to push herself down even faster. Pushing up with one leg, and down with the other in rapid succession, Willow was able to match the beat of the new song. Her ass was moving like a piston, up and down again and again with even, solid strokes. The change in tempo drove both of them crazy, and their eyes were locked together, glassy with the overload of pleasure they were receiving from the other. Willow's fingertips were stroking Dean's face as she worked her ass up and down, and Dean could feel his orgasm, the first one in months, rising to the surface once again. He grabbed her face with both hands, his fingers gripping the back of her neck, and kissed her. She kissed back, eagerly, and her breathing got faster as she neared her own climax as well.

And then it happened. It snuck on both of them, at exactly the same time. Willow pushed herself down onto his dick as hard as she could, and Dean thrust up equally hard. Both of them screamed with the release of pent up pressure. Willow's pussy went into spasm, clenching Dean's cock, and Dean could feel jet after jet of his semen shoot out of him and into her. It went on for more than thirty seconds, and Willow milked his throbbing cock by grinding her pelvis into him again and again. As it faded Dean blacked out, and he knew no more.

***

The sound of birds woke Dean, and he opened his bleary eyes to see watery light of an overcast morning through the window. His left arm was cold outside the covers, so he tucked it back in. His other arm was very warm indeed, and he turned his head to see why. Willow was asleep, snuggled up to him with her arms and legs entangling him. His left arm was wrapped around her.

After the initial feelings of contentment and satisfaction that came with waking to find a hot girl in his bed, Dean was caught in the eternal conundrum. Let her sleep, or risk waking her to pee? He struggled with it for ages until finally his bladder won out, and he got up. As he stumbled his way naked through the hallway to find the bathroom, he heard noises from downstairs. Someone was in the kitchen, cooking. After taking care of business in the bathroom, he threw on his pants and shirt from where they lay on the bedroom floor. The shirt wouldn't close because the buttons were missing, and he had to hold his pants up because the zipper was broken. Dean grinned. What a crazy night.

He went downstairs, holding his pants together with one hand, and went to investigate the activity in the kitchen. It was Fiona, standing by the stove wearing nothing but an extra-large t-shirt and the sweet delicious smell of bacon wafting through the air.

"Since when did you become a cliché of the morning after?" he asked. She turned to smile at him, her eyes glancing at his bare chest and broken pants. Her smile got bigger at the sight, and then she went back to cooking.

"Back home it's a stereotype that American women cook bacon in a man's shirt the morning after sleeping with him. I didn't want to disappoint."

"Hmm, but we didn't sleep together. Do I still get bacon?" he said, and she laughed.

"Don't worry there's enough for everybody. A few people stayed over last night. I noticed you and Willow hit it off. I'm glad to see that she was able to help with your little problem."

Boy did she ever, he thought.

"What about you?" he asked. "You obviously got lucky last night. Who's the lucky guy?"

"His name's Tim. He's. . ."

"He's Willow's friend." he finished for her.

"Exactly, how did you know?"

"She mentioned him last night. Briefly."

"You were obviously very preoccupied last night. I'm surprised you got any talking in at all."

The two of them chatted for a while, and before long the sounds of breakfast and the enticing smell of bacon roused everyone else, and they all gradually converged on the kitchen. There were two more couples besides Dean, Willow, Fiona and Tim. They were a little hungover, but happy. One guy went to the fridge to get a beer for the hair of the dog. He held one up for Dean; he nodded so the guy tossed one over to him. Everyone joined in on the banter, and everyone was having a good time. No one had anything to do that day, so everyone was completely relaxed and content with standing around, eating bacon, drinking beer, and laughing. It was a good morning, Dean thought, and he could see the possibility of a barbeque in the near future.

Someone wrapped their arms around him from behind, and he knew it was Willow.

"Thank you for last night." she whispered in his ear.

"I should be the one thanking you." he said to her.

"Believe me, it was just as much fun for me as it was for you."

She pulled him gently aside, away from the kitchen and into another room. It was the living room, where the dancing had been last night. She was back in her pants and jacket, but not her bra. Her jacket did a barely adequate job of concealing her bust from view, but it was still fun to look at. She had to lift his chin to look at her face before continuing.

"I'm glad I was able to help you last night, Dean."

"Me too." he said with a smile.

"But I don't want you to think that this means anything other than one friend helping another."

"Wait. Is this the 'let's just stay friends' talk?"

"Ha! Yes, I suppose it is. You're not the first one I've helped overcome their addiction to control. In the past they've sometimes taken it to mean that we were meant to be together."

Dean laughed, surprising her.

"Willow, you are an intoxicating, powerful, beautiful and untamed woman." he told her, and he actually succeeded in making her blush. "But even I can see this for what it is. Thank you for your help."

She smiled, relieved, and kissed him one last time.

"But remember, that if you ever feel you've lost touch and need some help again," she slipped a scrap of paper into his free hand, "call me."

For most of the day everyone hung around being lazy together. Around lunchtime they all started getting hungry again, and a barbeque was mentioned, and embraced as an excellent idea. Dean grinned in mild satisfaction of a job well done. A grill was procured, and food was acquired, and the entire day was spent eating, talking, drinking and laying around being happy.

It was by far the best day of Dean's life.