“Yoo Hoo! Midas! Is that you?” The busty blonde woman waved at him from across the street, jumping up and down almost to the point that her breasts threatened to spill from her low-cut blouse.

Midas Sinclair pulled his black leather gloves up his hands further, tightening his fists to stretch them for a more comfortable fit. Luckily, with his ‘bad boy’ good looks, they didn’t look out of place. He turned away from the excited woman who looked ready to dart across the busy traffic lanes right in front of the speeding cars.

She was after the ‘Midas Touch,’ as they all were. Causing women to have orgasms with a touch of your fingers was more curse than it was pleasure. He hurried away, pulling his leather jacket further up, as if to hide himself from the multitude of women who wanted him for his unique magic.

They didn’t know it could kill them.