Submitted for the Approval of the Midnight Society, I call this Tale...

Lover




Amy feels the urge hit her like a freight train. One minute she was having drinks with the girls, blowing off steam from a long week at the office; the next thing she knows, her whole body is flushed with heat and she has to press her knees together to keep her legs from shaking. She starts scanning the bar for potentials. She needs a man and she needs him now, but not just any man will do.

Mindy had been saying something a second ago, but as soon as Amy felt the change, all conversation had stopped. Rachel had felt it, too. Even without the tell-tale flushed cheeks and shortness of breath, Amy can tell they’re all experiencing the same need, the same hunger. She can see it in their eyes, the eyes that are searching the bar as eagerly as she is.

She’s felt this before, so it’s not unfamiliar to her. But the urge usually comes after a bottle of wine and a romantic dinner, or after a particularly bad break-up when she wants nothing but rough, uncomplicated sex. This feeling is the same, but different. There’s a reason behind it, a true need for it beyond desire.

It’s happening all through the bar, probably outside, too. The women have changed; some are already making their move. A petite brunette and a large black woman are practically wrestling on the ground, handfuls of each other’s hair in their grips. The black woman’s weave comes off in one piece, much to the surprise of the smaller girl. The bigger woman uses the moment of hesitation to slam the girl’s head against the floor, ending the fight.

She stands up and marches directly towards the bouncer, a large black man that was seconds away from stopping the fight. She grabs his crotch in one hand and whispers something in his ear. The poor, bewildered man is too shocked to put up a fight as she leads him outside.

Amy goes back to scanning the room. Comprehension is still absent on the faces of the men, though that works to the women’s advantage. She spies a tall, broad-shouldered hard-body with spiky blonde hair, casually refusing the advances of three middle-aged women around him. Amy makes her move. The man is obviously used to being hit on and doesn’t realize anything is amiss. Amy yanks one of the women by the hair and sends her to the ground. She digs a high heel into the back of another’s calf and watches the woman collapse to her knees. Amy shoves the last woman out of the way and presses her mouth hard against the confused man. Her tongue finds its way around his and makes her intentions known without pretense. He’s just starting to get the picture when Amy’s head is yanked back.

At first she thinks one of the women came back to steal her man, but instead of a middle-aged hag, Amy sees the barely clothed bartender standing before her. She’s taller than Amy, with well-toned arms and an ample figure. She’s got maybe thirty pounds on Amy and it’s in all the right places. Something inside Amy’s head tells her that the man is no longer hers; he belongs to this woman now and that’s the way it needs to be. Amy backs away as the bartender jumps into the blonde man’s arms and wraps her legs around his waist.

The bar is in total chaos now. Women fight women until dominance is established or the loser gets knocked unconscious. The men stand staring at the scene in shock. Some are egging the fights on, laughing and hollering until a woman comes by and shoves her tongue down his throat. Mindy, shy, bookish Mindy from accounting, is straddling a man top of a table. She tears his shirt open and buttons fly everywhere. Rachel is tied up with an Amazon of a blonde as they fight over a tanned and athletic looking specimen trapped in the corner behind them.

Amy is no threat to anyone at the moment, but she has already lost a fight and lost her man. The good ones are going quickly; the biggest frames with the strongest chins and the clearest eyes. The average men are staring to thin out; ones with a bit of age or a bit of belly or a bit of baldness to them. The rest cower in the corners; unwilling or unable to approach a woman during a normal night, they’re practically pissing their pants in this chaos.

She finds him. He emerges from the men’s room, blissfully hidden away from the other women once the chaos started. His look of bewilderment is somehow charming to Amy, arousing even. He has a strong jaw and sandy brown hair. He’s well-dressed and well built. Something in his eyes might even suggest a hint of intelligence. He’ll do.

Amy marches up to the handsome stranger before anyone else can. He starts to ask about what’s going on, but she grabs him by the hand and leads him out a side door into the alley. No one notices them leave. She has him all to herself.

Before he can start asking dumb questions again, Amy pins the man up against the alley wall. She silences his mouth with her own. Since his hands are too slow and fumbling, she starts to remove his pants herself. He starts to pull away, but his breath catches as she takes him in her hands. He’s not ready for her, and Amy starts to second-guess her selection of this supposed virile man. She presses herself against him and whispers Take me into his ear. Amy feels him stiffen and the urge within her pulses so strongly it makes her body shiver.

The man reaches awkwardly into his pants pocket and pulls out a small square of plastic. Amy would normally be glad for any sign of chivalry from a guy in this situation, but the thing that drives tells her it’s not the time for it. She slaps his hand away and the condom falls to the ground, lost in a pile of trash. The need is building to the breaking point. She needs him now.

Amy turns around and faces the opposite wall, hiking her skirt up around her hips. She says it again, louder this time, Take me now. Whatever reservations he had before have disappeared completely. She’s acting like a bitch in heat and he responds accordingly. After a few brief seconds lost in unfamiliar territory, he finds her. Amy thinks the urge should start to subside now, but it only grows stronger. She thrusts against him and moans the way she always did in her fantasies. Before long, his heavy breathing slows and his body’s rhythm matches its pace. She feels him soften inside of her and knows it’s done. The urge finally relaxes away.

As she turns to face him, a new emotion takes over. Raw, powerful, primal. More so even than the lust, or whatever it was, that took her and the other women earlier. The other women… This was Amy’s man, they couldn’t have him. No one could.

He smiles dumbly at her, not sure what just happened but happy enough that it did. Amy places her hands on either side of his face as if to kiss him most tenderly. A primitive strength surges through her. She twists his head as if it was no more resistant that a plastic doll. His body drops to the ground alongside the pile of trash; she drops his head on top of it. Suddenly feeling very tired, Amy straightens herself up and makes her way home.

---


Amy curls up on her couch with a glass of wine. It’s all over the news. Women everywhere are choosing male suitors to serve their most basic needs and then disposing of them afterwards. It makes Amy feel normal somehow to know she isn’t the only one who succumbed to the strange urges. Hell, when she turned the news on there was a live broadcast of the two co-anchors getting it on right on top of their desk. When it was all over, the woman ripped her co-worker’s head clean off and, without missing a beat, delivered the rest of the evening news.

Amy knows she shouldn’t be drinking, but hopes that one glass won’t do any damage this early. If the man in the alley’s seed doesn’t take, she’ll simply go out and try again. If it does take, what will she do then? Where has following these urges gotten her except possibly pregnant and still alone?

As the news continues to roll, footage from all around the world shows a similar sexual uprising. Amy’s fears about loneliness disappear. She finds solace in knowing that the world is full of sisters all ready to help each other raise a new generation of children.