You and Susan Quaffle raise a wave of disruptive sexual energy

Prefect Susan slides a leg over your body and shifts over to straddle you from above. She works her lips on yours as she rocks her hips against your abdomen. The loud smacking of her wet, sloppy kisses echoes in your ears.

It's all rather overwhelming in a good way. You feel desire and energy surging through your body. And unlike before, when you were relieved to suppress it, now that you're back to cycling, it's glorious. You want to plunge your morning wood into Prefect Susan and thrust away with abandon.

Susan giggles as you raise your hands to her waist and try to work her into a position you can get into her. "Now, now, Poesy, wait your turn," she says. Although your current masculine form is stronger, Susan Quaffle won't be budged.

Down goes her head. More wet kissing. More grinding on your lower belly. You feel her moisture leaking out onto your skin.

After maddening minutes of feeling mauled and wanting desperately to possess her, Susan Quaffle pushes herself up to a sitting posture, reaches behind her hip, and seizes your member. Long, thick, pulsing and weeping with readiness, it sinks deeply into Susan's wet heat.

"Poesy, ah!" Susan cries. "AH!"

Heaven.

You look up at Susan. Her jaw is slack, her eyes vague, her cheeks flushed pink. Her unbound hair, a shaggy mop of antique bronze, swings back and forth as she thrusts herself upon you from above. Her pale breasts bounce as she rides. She moans with pleasure, her voice rising with her excitement. Yet when you sense that she's at the brink, and you're throbbing on the edge, she stops.

"Susan," you groan. "WHY did you STOP?"

"Not yet," she says. "Not yet." She leans forward and covers your face with kisses.

After a time she rises up to ride you once more. This time it's slower, less frantic, with more rolling and circling of her hips. So wonderful, being inside her, watching her pleasure rise again, feeling your urgency build toward a release.

And she stops again.

You weep. "Whyyyyy?" you complain.

"Not yet," Susan says. Her face is moist with perspiration, as is the valley between her breasts. She leans forward, pressing her chest to yours, sharing her heat and moisture, kissing, kissing deeply with her soft lips and insistent tongue.

She rises again and sits firmly upon you, resting her palms on her thighs. Her hair half-hides her face. She grins at you.

"Going to, ah, move?" you say. It feels so good being inside her, but you're completely wound up and needing, needing, needing that completion.

"Just lie there, Poesy, I want to try something." Susan closes her eyes. You see her lips move and hear her mutter several words, faintly.

"Ohhhh," you moan. You feel Susan squeezing down upon your member, tightly, rhythmically, pulling heat and energy upward. You tremble as you feel the sensations echo through your whole body.

Susan keeps her eyes and mouth tightly shut, her body outwardly motionless, as she works this morning's gift, your extravagant masculine equipment. A low sound escapes from her nose. She squeezes down harder on you. Her internal grasp is becoming firmer but more erratic, clutching tightly to your member and then releasing. You feel a tingle at the root, under your balls.

"Susan!" you cry out. "I'm..."

Susan slides one hand round and frantically works her pearl. Her sheath clenches down hard as you swell at the point of no return.

"AAAAAAHHHHHGHHH!" you cry out together. Your member erupts, blasting hot seed into Susan's womb as her muscles squeeze and relax with the pulses of her climax. It's a long, long peak, with flows of energy and swirls of bright light and rocking waves and flashes of heat.

Faintly, somewhere outside, you hear voices raised in wordless cries, a clatter of something falling, a hollow thump of impact against a wall.

"Prefect, Prefect!" you hear a call of alarm.

"Oh, bother," Susan Quaffle says. She rises off you, moving slowly. Her outlines seem blurred by the ripples of energy from her aura. You blink in surprise. You've never seen something quite like that. You raise a hand in front of your face and see a similar but fainter blurring.

You rise to your feet and stand next to Susan in the doorway, surveying the situation.

• Your sex has magical or psychic ripple effects. Describe a conspicuous disruptive
  effect over the area. Gain +1 XP. Next: GET OUT OF TROUBLE.

You have 4 XP.

Roll 2d6 for RAPID GENDER CYCLING and apply the results.
Roll +AMBITION(-1) to GET OUT OF TROUBLE.

Describe the effects of the blast of sex energy and roll to resolve RAPID GENDER CYCLING and GET OUT OF TROUBLE