Forecast: Sweaty

Where won't you end up? Subways, basements, hotels, buses, diners, biker bars — Leon's precision is his drug and his c**k-hardening fix. A woman with dark eyes catches yours across the subway car, lips parted, a silent offer. Then he's towering over Ada with chapstick poised like a loaded trigger, tracing the bow of her mouth while his c**k throbs like a steel rod. Then he's in a basement with his fingers buried deep in her p***y, the professional veneer shed like skin.

Five women turned savage. A redhead with jagged scars spreads her slick, oiled-up p***y for display. An Antibody Cult ritual of denial that tightens his balls to an unbearable degree. A diner kitchen where the heat shimmers and the hiss of oil covers the sound of him pumping into her.