Still fighting, but waning.

Ernest withdrew from Jessica completely, standing from the bed as he did so... but before he could get his bearings, her hand shot backwards and grabbed his wrist. The fingers squeezed tight as even her touching him caused her to fall back into the loop of shuddering bliss, but she couldn't dare let go.

Ernest’s cock ached to be returned to the shape it carved inside her... but he had grown somewhat used to the haze of sex and pheromones in which the two teens had languished; he remembered his purpose, he remembered who Jessica was; and he remembered how that memory of her was far and away from the trembling, exhausted thing on the bed. “Jessica... what’s wrong?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but only tortured moans came out. Testing it, Ernest willed another orgasm into her... and saw no change. He nodded as he figured they had reached his fantasized end-point: his touch now brought a constate state of orgasmic bliss that even him willing orgasms couldn't overcome. How hard would life be to lead if one had to be at the most mind-searing phase of climax for minutes on end? The idea that he had brought Jessica to this state filled Ernest with satisfaction: he loved seeing her come, and now, any touch from him would bestow bliss.

He cranked his hand out of her steely grip easily enough; her body stopped twitching as she groped the air blindly looking for him. “No-!” she begged.

She begged. The pitiful sound set Ernest to tremble. “Jessica, tell me where the ring is,” he whispered as he stood by the window, perilously close to where the gem hid.

Jessica’s eyes finally opened and refocused... and tears welled in those eyes. What was this ugly void in her? A strange numbness confused her: she felt the moisture of the bed, the spongy condition of it absorbing their fluids for an entire night, the slickness between her thighs... the soft, nearly imperceptible sensation of her body warning her of her pregnant state. The information was there, but her brain almost seemed ambivalent to the normal feelings she ought to associate with them: disgust, comfort, pain. Her eyes saw the gentle sunlight and then the time on the clock. The night had come and gone... had she slept through it? She hugged her naked body, but found no comfort there. “What did... you do to me?!” she suddenly yelled.

“We were together all night,” Ernest explained, “and I made you come to... to try and get you to give me the ring.” It was a lie; Ernest had told himself that lie earlier, but it didn’t change the enjoyment he got from feeling Jessica Edwards experience mind-shattering bliss as he hugged her to him. If it didn’t turn her brain into putty, he’d have hopped right back into bed after her... but the world outside still needed fixing, and she still needed to tell him where to find the one thing that could fix it. “So just tell me-”

“I don’t feel anything,” Jessica spat as she threw her legs over the bed to stand, “you fucking creep, you piece of shit-!”

Ernest was upon her as she fully stood, his hand on the small of her back, his cock against her leg, and his naked body pressed against hers. His other hand rubbed the back of her neck to anchor her lips against his. Every point of contact detonated those missing sensations--happiness, pleasure--inside Jessica. His touch was more than orgasms now, though her squirting twat proved that remained the primary effect: Ernest Redmond was now the only thing Jessica could feel to any full degree. Her nervous system had been totally shot; her brain rewired in some ways and temporarily spent in others. How long would this withdrawal state last? She couldn’t even contemplate it while he dared to touch her.

Gently, Ernest let her down on the bed and evaded her semi-conscious efforts to grab him anew. “Jessica,” he urged with a tinge of worry, “if I... damaged you somehow, I can fix it... but I need the ring.” She shook her head before balling up on the bed... if only to keep herself from trying to touch Ernest again. “Can anyone else even use the ring, Jessica? It’s only visible to others when I want it to be... and you can’t trust anyone else. What if they try to conquer the world or-!”

“Are you fucking serious?! Look what you’ve done to me, to the town-!”

“I’ll fix it! I promise!” Ernest inhaled deeply as he tried to regain control of himself. “I promise. I don’t want to live in the world as I’ve made it... and neither do you.”

Jessica covered her ears. Part of her actually wanted to satisfy him... a deep part of her was now chemically attracted to him. Ernest was quickly becoming her ****... and aside from her fashionably-questionable bell-bottom jeans phase in elementary school, Jessica had never struggled with the terrible weight of addiction.

Let alone magical addiction... let alone when the **** is trying to convince you that it only means well.