Discovery

To look at her, Starla Gravestone did not look like your average biochemist. She was tall, platinum blonde, and green-eyed with a body men dreamed about. She had been working at the labs of Palmer & Chris Cosmetics when, quite by accident, she discovered the thing that would propel her to riches. This discovery was made on her own time, outside of the resources of her employer, however, because it was in the area of cosmetics, it would have cost her everything had she not had the patience to keep her mouth shut during the two years after she left the company.

The stress of two master's degrees and twelve-hour days over the last ten years had caused the light etchings of crow's feet and worry lines on her face. She was showing her age before her time, the drive and anger that drove her to claw out her success in her field had exacted its toll on her porcelain skin.

Starla had no shortage of male companions in the years since college. It was during a tryst with the latest of her suitors that she made her discovery. She was on her knees, his erection sliding in and out of her mouth. She was tired and ready to kick him out of her apartment and go to sleep and just wanted him to finish so she could spit the disgusting stuff out.

Brady had other ideas though and as Starla felt him tense, he pulled out of her mouth and ejaculated copiously onto her face. Starla screamed in disgust and landed a blow on Brady's stomach that doubled him over in a coughing fit. She wiped frantically, dashing to the bathroom.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" she screamed over her shoulder. "I told you I don't like that shit on me!" In the bathroom, she cast about for a washcloth, swiping at the slimy mess with one hand and succeeding only in smearing it across her forehead and one eye.

Brady appeared in the bathroom doorway holding his stomach, his penis limp and dripping. "Fuck, baby, I thought I'd surprise you. As long as we've been screwing I thought you were okay with a little cum."

"I told you a long time ago I don't like that stuff on me." Starla finally found a washcloth, wet it, and squeezed out a sample of the new facial cleanser she was testing at P & C.

This batch of cleanser had insufficient wetting agent and served to smear the semen around rather than remove it. Unbeknownst to her, the plant extract in the formula and Brady's semen was beginning a silent molecular dance with the damaged collagen in her skin.

"Get the fuck out!" she spat and finally found some proper soap to do the job. In response, Brady cursed and angrily dressed then slammed the door on the way out.

The next morning, Starla crawled out of bed at four am to head to the lab. The hand cleanser was shit and she had plenty of other irons in the fire. The first thing she'd do is formally reject the recipe and recommend the cleanser line be reformulated entirely.

This line of thought was going through her head when she saw herself in the shower mirror as she prepared to start soaping herself. The worry lines on her forehead were gone, her skin smooth as it had been as a teenager. Even the few acne scars she had had since sixteen were now missing.

"What the fuck?" she said to the mirror. She turned it toward the bathroom light, trying to use shadow to highlight the lines. They were not there. Dripping wet, Starla looked in the much larger and better-lit mirror over the sink and noticed that not only were the lines on her forehead and between her eyebrows missing, but so were the fine lines of crow's feet around one eye. Just one.

Starla picked up the cleanser. The bottle was opaque, marked only with a formula number that meant nothing to anyone outside of the P & C lab. Of itself, this couldn't have removed the wrinkles. She and at least three other lab personnel had trying out the stuff at home for the last six weeks. Nobody had reported anything like this.

"One eye?" she said to herself. The crow's feet were still visible around her right eye. She had been washing her entire face with it, so if it had been the cleanser, it would have affected both eyes. Starla had washed her entire face just like always last night. Same routine, even though this time it was because Brady had ejaculated on her face.

Starla froze at the thought.

"You gotta be kidding!" she said to her reflection. Starla had heard the old saying that cum was good for the skin ever since she discovered it came out of the ends of penises. It was apocryphal, she knew--a story guys told to justify their disgusting desire to humiliate girls by ejaculating on them. But there it was. Every place on her face where Brady's semen and her facial cleanser had combined had reversed the damage to her skin.

"Fuck!" Starla breathed. "The motherfucking fountain of youth!"

Would it be permanent? Probably not, the new patterns of cross-linking in the collagen probably would break down. But even if it wasn't permanent, it was a hell of a temporary wrinkle remover. If this was repeatable, she had stumbled on something worth millions--no--billions!

Starla killed the formula as planned but kept a copy of the formulation. That night, she apologized to Brady for her behavior and induced him to ejaculate on her face again, and then she immediately washed her face in the cleanser. Sure enough, the crow's feet around the other eye were gone the next morning. The acne scar on that cheek was also now missing.

Brady, whom she'd invited to spend the night, thought Starla had gone insane as she cackled madly, dancing naked on the bathroom floor and pumping her fists.

She had just struck gold.

Something unusual in the formula was the catalyst, Starla knew. It wasn't the wetting agents, the fragrance, or the proteins that did it. Those ingredients were shared by many other facial cleansers on the market. The botanicals, which were unique in this formula, were probably the key. Starla would need more semen to test the theory in the lab so she washed out an empty medicine bottle and slithered back into the bed with Brady. She kissed him, reached under the sheet, and found him erect.

"I need some more of that cum," she whispered into his ear as she slid her hand up and down his length.

"Hop on, then," he smiled. She pulled the sheet back, crawled on top of him, and straddled his thighs. When she didn't move up to guide him into her, he frowned. "Aren't we going to fuck?"

"No," Starla said with finality as she gripped his cock in both hands. He started to complain but managed to only gasp as she began twisting her hands around him as she stroked. In less than a minute, she felt him tense and his cock turn to steel. She reached for the medicine bottle and managed to guide the head of his cock into it just before he ejaculated.

"What are you going to do with that, babe?" Brady gasped as she crawled off.

"I need it for some tests."

"What tests?"

Nobody, including Brady, needed to know of her discovery. "Well, there are these monosaccharide long-chain sugars that appear to enfold protein in a manner that--" she began.

"Never mind," Brady said holding up his hand and swinging his legs out of bed. "You lost me with that muco-word." Starla knew she would.

"I'm coming over after work tonight and we're going to do this again," Starla said in a way that precluded argument from Brady. "I'm going to need more and you're going to give it to me."

"Hey, as long as I get to cum," Brady laughed.

It took two weeks to isolate exactly what compounds were having this effect. There was a lot of trial and error before the collagen cultures showed the same re-linking of the fibers. The key botanical was virgultum iuvenis--The Plant of Youth. Of itself it did nothing, but when combined with Brady's semen, the collagen fibers in the cultures broke down and reassembled into a smooth web of fibers.

By the time she had determined that multiple compounds in human semen were responsible for the effect, she had exhausted Brady with her twice-daily demands for his fluid. There was no sex, only the mechanical and determined masturbation she performed on him to get what she wanted. By the time Brady bailed out of the relationship, Starla had the formula for a wrinkle eraser almost perfected. Though it was not a permanent fix for the effects of aging--Starla found she had to apply it about once a week to keep her skin flawless--it would be a cosmetic coup-de-grâce.

Starla Gravestone, forty years old--who now looked twenty--wrote her letter of resignation then sealed the formula for the compound in an envelope and locked it away.