Free Universal Carnal Knowledge Pt. 13

Story Info
Ultimate sex drug causes as many problems as it solves.
2.4k words
4.69
23.2k
1

Part 13 of the 46 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 11/06/2007
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XIII

Off my chest

The situation was surreal. Here we were, hurrying off to inaugurate a sexual relationship, yet we were sitting as far apart as the size of the cab would permit, staring angrily out of opposite windows without a word to each other. I was furious with Fran for having forced me to give way when all I wanted was for her own good, and I could see she was equally upset at my reluctance to give her what she wanted. But she was still eager; when we got to the flat she fumbled with the keys in her impatience and muttered some Scottish imprecation under her breath.

She gripped my hand firmly and led me straight to her bedroom. I sat down on the bed while she, still without a word to me, hurriedly and without any preamble began to undress, keeping her back to me with an incongruous modesty that in a better mood I should have found charming.

I removed my tie and shirt and was standing up to drop my trousers as Fran, still with her back to me, slipped out of her knickers and was naked. As she turned I could see she was still thoroughly out of temper. "Right," she said impatiently. "Let's get on with --"

The anger vanished from her face. Her jaw dropped and her eyes, widening like saucers, focused on my immense throbbing erection. Suddenly she was unsteady on her bare feet; she swayed a little, then her legs gave way and she landed with a thump on her knees. She did not collapse any further: for a few moments she simply knelt there, a few feet in front me, stark naked and staring unashamedly at my cock. She looked so endearingly ridiculous that my own anger ebbed away.

I playfully tweaked the cock (no hands, pure muscle control) as if to say, "Come hither." Her eyes followed it as it bobbed up and down and she gave a smile combining amusement and lust. She shuffled forward on her knees until she was almost touching the cock. I gave the muscle a stronger tweak and this time maintained the tension instead of releasing it, so that the cock rose in front of her face. Her eyes, widening yet further, eagerly followed its ascent. Now its tip was inches from her nose.

She cautiously and slowly raised a hand toward it, apparently terrified to touch it. When finally her finger brushed against it she withdrew her hand sharply as if she had had an electric shock. Then she touched it more confidently and ran her hand gently along its shaft. All the time her face was wreathed in a look of sheer wonderment.

"Kiss it," I whispered. She leant forward slightly to touch her lips tenderly against it, subjecting me to an exquisite agony of sexual tension that I bore as long as I could. Finally I raised her gently to her feet and embraced her. We kissed passionately. I laid her on the bed and admired her perfection for a moment. She gazed lovingly at me, almost trembling with anticipation. She did not speak, but sighed with pleasure as I lowered myself slowly on top of her and kissed those modest but perfect breasts. My desire for her was now uncontainable; I moved up so I could kiss her neck, her ears, and finally her ripe inviting lips, while I could feel my cock searching eagerly for the moistness of her pussy.

My cock found her wet lips and gently I pressed it home. She gasped. I was frightened of hurting her, for she was no mature woman like Wendy or free spirit like Connie or Kylie or Gina. This was the tight young cunt of a good girl with a sheltered Scottish upbringing. She had told me about the boyfriend she had had at university, and since coming to London she had gone out a few times, and even spent a romantic weekend in Venice with someone she met at a speed-dating event, but the relationship had soon fizzled out. So far as I knew that was the extent of her sexual experience, so I entered her cautiously in a series of gentle thrusts, pushing in a little farther each time before withdrawing. At each thrust she inhaled with a sharp gasp, whether of pleasure or pain it was impossible to tell, and her body tensed, her back arching and her buttocks clenching together. Each time I pulled back, she relaxed and let out a huge sigh. As the thrusts got deeper her reactions grew more intense; finally I pushed in as far as I could and this time she gave a convulsive shudder, her buttocks forcing themselves together and raising her hips as if her body wanted to force my cock even deeper. And then she was quite limp, the breath escaping her lungs like air from a paper bag and a smile of ineffable bliss on her slightly open mouth.

Slowly at first, I thrust up and down inside her. I was beginning to understand the effects of FUCK and I knew she would come again when I did (which could not be long). I also thought that maybe I could exercise some control over my cock after all. As my movements gradually grew faster, and even in her blissed-out state some primal instinct of Fran's made her hips start to buck gently, I felt my climax approach. Fran's movements grew stronger, she was breathing faster and more deeply, and I felt her back begin to arch again.

Then I came. And as my juices bathed her insides, Fran also climaxed with an overwhelming sense of bodily release and a massive sigh that seemed to empty her lungs of every particle of air.

But I had not finished. By sheer will-power I had managed to constrict some penile muscle and interrupt the flow of spunk. I moved gently in and out, gathering my strength for the final onslaught. But I could hold myself back only for a few moments. Then I accelerated again, and once more the animal in Fran bucked back at me. Her response was stronger this time, as if her deepest sexual instincts were finding expression, maybe for the first time. Her unexpected vigour excited me still more and my cock, now utterly free of any conscious restraint, powered in and out faster and faster. And suddenly her whole body was answering my thrusts and she convulsed under me as no woman had ever done, moans of pleasure escaping her at every movement.

I orgasmed again, pumping spunk into her as if I should never stop. The first jet seemed to galvanise her, tensing every muscle, and she hovered on the brink of release until the final great blast escaped me. Then, finally, she came again, hugely this time, with what was almost a roar of blessed release. All the tension simply flowed out of her and what was left beneath me was a helpless rag doll, her glassy eyes unseeing and her whole body, I suddenly realised, wet with perspiration.

It took me a few minutes to gather my own senses and pull myself out of Fran and onto the bed by her side. It would, I knew, be some time before she recovered. I should have liked to stay and talk her down but I needed to get home to Wendy so I reluctantly got up and dressed. Before leaving I found a blanket and draped it tenderly over her, and I leant over her to hear her shallow breathing and kiss her unresponding lips.

On the train home I took care to avoid any remotely fanciable woman and wedged myself in safely between a suited young executive and a woman of about sixty with a face like a bag of spanners. I pondered my situation and what I was to tell Wendy. Halfway home I literally kicked myself when I finally realised, far too late, what had been wrong with Fran's argument about the nursing mother. But at least my agonies over Fran had been resolved, albeit on her terms rather than mine; I reflected, however, that I still had Alicia to deal with.

Wendy greeted me brightly when I got home. "Hello darling. Supper's ready. Do you want to go upstairs first?"

I had to disappoint her. Having missed lunch, I was ravenous, and I needed to talk to her. (Also, I was still getting over servicing Fran.) So she served up the unpretentious meal I had requested and I told her I had something very important to say to her.

Starting with a sincere apology for not having told her at once, I recounted my story. This was the third time I had been through it so I was well rehearsed, and I added details that I had edited out previously: I told her the name of the potion (after all, she had known what Albert was like) and Connie, Kylie and Fran featured under their real names. Connie's name meant nothing to her, of course, but she looked surprised, maybe a little shocked, when I told her about Kylie. The disclosure about Fran she took calmly, almost as a matter of course, possibly helped by the fact that, in the interests of keeping the peace, I skated over the marriage proposal. This was the only particular I withheld apart from my visit to Gina, which I still felt very embarrassed about.

Wendy heard me out, her head cocked to one side like a bird's (a characteristic of hers when her attention was fully engaged). Like Connie but unlike Fran, she accepted the whole story without the slightest hesitation or doubt.

"So that's it," I concluded. "That's why everything's been so strange lately."

"It certainly explains a lot," she smiled. "So you're the lucky boy, then, aren't you?"

"A lot of people would say so, but if I'd known what would happen I'd never have touched the stuff however hopeless I felt."

"Thanks to me," she said, looking down guiltily.

"Well," I said, "after all that's happened I don't think you should be the one feeling guilty. Darling, you're nothing like so angry as you have every right to be."

"I don't feel angry at all," she rejoined. "I love you far too much ever to feel angry with you. Oh, I know what you're going to say -- 'that's just the drug' -- and you're quite right. Of course it is; I'm not stupid. But darling, when that clever girl Fran told you the feeling is still real, even though it's artificial, she was quite right."

She paused before adding in mock rebuke, "Really, James, I can understand about Fran but Kylie? She's only a schoolgirl and a trampy little schoolgirl at that. I'm shocked." She sat back smiling indulgently at me.

"You don't look shocked," I pointed out.

"Well," she said reflectively, "to be honest, I've rather been expecting something like this. I don't mean Albert's drug, of course; I had no idea about that, but since the realisation came over me of what a marvellous man you are I've thought you must have sexy women after you all the time."

"And now you know. I have."

"Yes," she said. "And it's only natural. And, darling, if you also do what's natural, and it makes you happy, how can I object? I'm your wife. I want you to be happy. It's all that matters to me."

"You can't call it natural," I objected. "It's nothing of the kind."

"I know, but remember Fran's Law. 'The fact that the feeling is induced doesn't mean it isn't real.' "

"Ah yes, but that's exactly what was wrong with her example about the nursing mother. I'm so frustrated that I didn't spot it at the time. A nursing mother's feeling for her baby really is natural; evolution has hard-wired it into women's brains to keep the human race going. But what we're dealing with here isn't natural at all. It's the product of Uncle Albert's corrupt scientific genius."

"Whatever," said Wendy dismissively. "The main thing is that the last week has been the happiest of my life and that's the end of it. I don't want to analyse it any more. I want to take you upstairs and get my share of what you've been giving everyone else."

"Hold your horses," I said. "You're forgetting Alicia."

"Alicia? Oh yes, the girl on the train. Poor little thing; she must be in a dreadful state over you," said Wendy sympathetically. "All right, darling, what do you want to do about Alicia? Apart from the obvious, I mean?"

"This house," I remarked airily, "has always been a bit big for just the two of us."

"James! You scoundrel! You want to get this girl in here just for your pleasure? Me in the main bedroom, her in the spare? Is that it?" She gave me a wicked grin.

"It had crossed my mind."

"Is she pretty?" Wendy asked casually.

"I think I have to tell you frankly that she's extremely pretty."

"And it's what you want, darling?"

I assured her it was very much what I wanted. I also suggested that the girl would be a great help around the house. So we agreed (that is, I suggested and Wendy agreed) to invite Alicia for dinner the following night.

I dialled Alicia's number. She answered instantly but nearly dropped the phone when she realised who it was.

"James, James, oh James, thank you, thank you for calling me. It's so lovely to hear your voice."

"Why, thank you Alicia. It's nice to hear your voice too. Tell me," I said, coming straight to the point, "are you free tomorrow night?"

"Oh, James," she sighed happily. She seemed unable to speak further, although I could hear her breathing emotionally and I thought I even detected her heartbeat.

"Alicia, tomorrow night?" I prompted eventually.

"Oh, yes, James, yes, yes."

"Good," I said. "Come round to my house for dinner." I had decided not to say anything about lodging with us and in fact I gave her no real indication at all of what I had in mind. She was too much overcome with emotion to ask any questions, so after arranging to meet her the following evening at a sandwich bar near her work I hung up.

"She's coming," I told Wendy.

"I'm sure she will be," she replied with another of her wicked looks, "but first it's my turn."

And so to bed.

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AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
Fran and Wendy - good mix!!

I enjoyed how Fran's aggressive anger turned to adoring worship after the sex. I also feel that you handled the dialogue with Wendy very well. I guess that is what I like most about your story so far ... how you are able to write about ordinary, everyday scenes of life to make the "unreal" affects of the potion seem more likely and real.

AnonymousAnonymousover 16 years ago
love it

hoped it would go this way

make this one a long lasting one !

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