Bethany and I met when neither one of us was actually looking for someone. We'd both been dragged by our friends to a bar as their designated drivers. While the others drank, mingled, and danced we sat at the bar with our watered-down sodas. Sodas from the bar-gun are never as good as the bottles. That was the first thing we talked about.

It was very different meeting a girl while we were both sober. This is what the bar scene lacks: honesty. Bethany had shoulder-length chestnut hair that she usually tied back. She was almost a foot shorter than me and athletically built for a girl from playing lacrosse during high school. Her breasts were average, but more than enough for my hands, and she possessed a marvelously plump ass, which she hated, but I loved it.

We formed a real relationship, and it became a steady thing. Everything seemed to be going well, but there was a huge problem: she didn't care for sex. We had it often enough, and she did all the right things to make me feel good. She gave the absolute best blow jobs I ever had. She would feign pleasure when I tried very hard to please her, but if I pressed her to tell the truth, she admitted that it wasn't actually doing anything.

"I'm sorry," she would say with tears in her eyes. "I'm trying—really I am. I just don't get anything from it, but I want you to enjoy it."

It was hard to explain to her that such an arrangement would be an open wound for I would always know that I was taking and not giving.

I held her, and told her that it would be all right. That's what a guy is supposed to do. I didn't want to give up. We moved in together and refocused on enhancing the other aspects of our lives. She did go and see a doctor, but they couldn't find anything wrong with her physically.

"Everyone is just different," they said.

Bethany got a job at a pharmaceutical company, and I went on as a civil engineer. Things didn't work out for me, and in a year I was unemployed and demoralized. However, she did very well professionally, and rose quickly within her company. She talked about getting married. Once again I felt that inability to explain how much of a failure I felt like. Not only could I not make her enjoy sex, but I was also relegated to being a dependent.

She tried to reassure me, and that reversal was a hard one. We continued on, but I was desperate. There had to be a way to please her. When there was nothing within my own environment, I had to think about hers. She worked for one of the biggest drug companies in the state. There was no way that I could bring myself to have her look into it. That would only make her feel guiltier than she already did, but I could do it myself. That led me to one of her colleagues from work: Dale.

I had met him a few times at company parties and trite little social events like that. He was a few years younger than we were and just out of college. Dale maintained that strangely long hair for a guy, which I swear was only popular for like five minutes ten years ago. A youth spent on Coronado had left him with a tan and thin surfer's body. There were a few occasions when seeing him made me self-conscious. I was still in decent shape, but sitting at home surfing the web all day had started to take a toll. After swearing him to secrecy, I explained the problem that Bethany and I had.

"I really wish I could help you," he said, "But so much of our stuff isn't even ready for human trials. It takes years to get that stuff cleared, but there are other things you could try."

"We have and she isn't interested in trying anymore. She still has sex with me, but it's only sex out of loyalty to me. She doesn't want to. Come on, there has to be something."

Dale mulled it over for a long time. He said that he'd think about it. Two days later he sent me a text message:

Possible solution. Café Rouge 4:00.

Bethany would still be at work, and she often met her friends for drinks. I texted her that I would be out looking for a new job, and went to go meet with Dale.

When I got to the café, I found him sitting nervously at a table in the corner drinking a blended drink. He had a shoulder bag on the table, and looked like a thousand other people who might appear at a café in the city. I ordered my own coffee, and then went and sat in the chair across from him.

"So you do have something", I said. "Tell me about it."

"Not so fucking loud," he whispered, and then looked around like we were in a spy movie or something. "This is not only illegal, but it could cost me my whole career."

He pulled out a small rectangular box from the shoulder bag, and slid it over to me.

I not sure what I thought it was going to be. I opened it, and inside was a vial of an amber-colored liquid. I titled it up and down to see how thick it was, and Dale nearly jumped out of his seat.

"Are you crazy?" he asked, and grabbed at it, but I held firm. In our struggle he pulled off the lid and stared in horror as some of the fluid got on his hand.

"Oh my God," he said.

People were stating to notice. In a today of freaky psychos doing shit to people in public places you really don't want this kind of attention.

"Chill out," I said trying to be a loud enough. "It's only cologne. You didn't spill much."

People seemed to accept this as plausible enough even if it was a little weird, and they went back to their high-caloric drinks and mooching off of the free Wi-Fi.

"You don't know how strong this is," he said. "I can't believe that I got exposed."

He wiped at his hand furiously with a napkin, and even poured some of my coffee on his hand as if that would do something. By this time I had retrieved the lid and sealed the vial after taking a brief whiff of it. The smell was acrid at first, and as it settled into my nose it got very musky.

"So, what is it?" I finally asked.

"A synthetic aphrodisiac combined with different pheromones and hormones."

I sighed in disappointment. "I bought this stuff on-line and all it caused was a rash."

Dale shook his head, his long hair getting in his eyes. "Not this stuff. This is the real deal. Not only is it an aphrodisiac, but a true sexual enhancer. Technically it doesn't even exist at our lab yet. I assisted one of our doctors and read his notes. He seems to have a lot of hope in it. This is the concentrated stuff though. So I'm a little skittish around it."

"All the advertisements say stuff like that."

"Look," he ordered in frustration and pointed under the table at his crotch. The front of his pants was tented by a massive erection. "You think I want this. God, I want to fuck something so bad right now."

Despite the awkwardness of the situation, I was very impressed. "How will it work on Bethany?"

"Not sure."

That was concerning. "She won't grow a dick or anything?"

"Look, I need to..."

Dale awkwardly got up, and shuffled his way to the bathroom. Nobody seemed to care. It looked like he was clinching on the way to the toilet. I waited there hoping for answers. Then I began to notice my own erection. I realized then that the strength depended on the exposure. Dale wasn't coming out, so I decided to go in and ask my questions. I put the vial back in the box, and hid it in Dale's bag. I didn't think anyone else would get involved.

In his rush, Dale forgot to lock the bathroom door. I entered the bathroom, and I saw Dale standing by the sink and furiously jerking off.

"What the Hell, man? Show some self control. We're in public place."

"You did this to me," he said. Then Dale noticed my erection. "I see it got you too."

"Yeah, it's strong, huh?"

He didn't respond to me. I caught myself staring at his cock while he worked it. His hand didn't seem to be enough for it, and Dale was frantic like a man drowning. His dick was swollen to the point of bursting. I didn't know why, but for some reason I felt so drawn to it.

"Are you always so big?" I asked. He was easily sporting eight inches of wood.

He shook his head. "It's like I'm going to explode."

Something strange was happening to me. My own cock was getting harder the more that I stared at his. I wasn't into this kind of stuff. I got closer to Dale to see a better angle as he beat off. My heart beat increased, and I swear that it began to match the pumping of his fist.

"If you're so fascinated," he said, "Why don't you do something useful and suck me off?"

In my mind my first instinct was revulsion. I never dug on guys. I'd had some roommates come on to me before, but nothing ever came of it. The next thing I knew I was on my knees in front of it, and Dale thrust his dick into my mouth.

I wondered what the hell I was doing. I just didn't do this stuff. It was as though there were two realities: the one that was how I imagined myself and another brought on by the chemical. That one was definitely winning the day. As I sucked, I frantically opened my pants, and got my own cock out. I couldn't see it. My eyes were staring up at Dale as he writhed due my sucking, but I was oak hard, and I did feel bigger than normal. This stuff did work. I couldn't wait to get it home to Bethany. I beat off thinking of her.

Dale's cock was salty in my mouth, and I could feel it throbbing.

"Oh God," Dale gasped.

Several hot spurts burned into my mouth, and before I could even think about it I was swallowing Dale's load, and shooting my own on the bathroom floor. I didn't think of it back then, but I remember now that I smelled and even tasted the amber-fluid again. It was in us, and even more was in me after that.

It wasn't until Dale pulled out of my mouth that it got awkward.

"Oh my god," he said again. "What did we do?"

I tried really hard not to think about what had been in my mouth. There wasn't much taste to spunk, but the snot-like texture wasn't something that I really cared for. I felt a great deal of sympathy for Bethany, and how often she'd sucked my dick. There should've been a card or a holiday for such people.

I stood up and closed my pants. Dale was still trying to recover while I washed my mouth and hands in the sink.

"No offence, Dale," I said when I was done. "I'd prefer it if no one knew about this"

"I can't believe this. I'm not gay, dude. Don't get the wrong idea."

He was truly afraid of being called "gay" even though I was the one who sucked his cock.

"Look, don't freak out. Let's call it a trade. You got me this stuff and proved that it works. Outside this room and this moment nothing happened."

"I need to go home," said Dale. "I just want to go home."

"Thanks again, man."

After checking the mirror, I went back out to the café, and retrieved my coffee and the vial of pheromone. The strong chocolate and coffee taste went a long way to eliminating the memory of Dale's cum in my mouth. The over-priced coffee was good for something.


I got back to the apartment with time to spare. My strange little foray with Dale hadn't taken that long. It almost made me feel worse about it, like I should have called him or something, but the desire in my brain was too strong to think too much. I just wanted Bethany there so we could do more of the fluid together.

The pent up desire created energy, and like someone who dropped a bunch of coke or meth I began cleaning the apartment with reckless abandon. I told myself that it would not only pass the time until Bethany arrived, but it would make her happy that I finally did it. If she was happy then she might want to do more stuff with me. My addled mind told me how lucky I was to have her. Just the thought of her made the hard on more painful.

Bethany finally got home from her after-work "girls' afternoon", and I could tell that she was more than a little drunk.

"You won't believe this," she said, steadying herself on the counter, and going for some ice water. "I got a text from Dale asking me to explain to the lab director that he can't come in for the next couple of days. I hate when people involve me in their weird shit."

"Doesn't sound that weird," I said feigning disinterest. "Sometimes things just come up for people. How was your 'girls' night'?"

"Mehhh," she offered. "Sarah, that cheap ass, tried to get everybody to go Dutch. We're supposed to have a system: we pay in pairs every other time. As if her glasses of fucking white zinfandel cost that much."

One of the reasons that I loved Bethany was that at her core she was a beer girl, who could match most guys drink for drink, and had a much better taste in beer that ninety percent of them.

"So," she said, refocusing on me. "Did you get a job?"

Even in her drunken state she noticed my erection, but didn't say anything.

" It just was a waste of time."

"Baby," she said embracing me out of a need of structural support as much as emotional. "I love you. You know that I do. Look, I'm making good money, so we're not hurting, but I think it would be better for you to find something. I mean come on." She planted some kisses on me, and I could smell the beer on her. "You're more educated than me, so you should be doing something."

My hands moved to cup her breasts through her oddly conservative sweater vest.

"Uh oh...I'm getting attention," she said, and hiccupped. "Did you spend your day thinking about me?"

Bethany pawed at my hard on through my kakis.

"Always. Especially in the shower."

"Such a boy. Oh well, I should get it while I can. My married friends say their sex life has gone to shit. Maybe it's good that you don't want to marry me."

"I never said that. I do want to, but I'm not sure that we're there yet. Anyway, so you're interested?" I asked with a spark of hope.

"Anything for you, baby."

Ordinarily, that was the kind of response that kicked the support struts out from my passion, but not this time.

We began kissing in the kitchen. From Bethany's hot mouth I got the flavors of hoppy beer and the onion rings she ate. Some people might not have dug it, but the fact that it was from her made it amazing. She felt up my shoulders and chest. She'd taken a fascination in my modest musculature a long time ago, and encouraged me to work out more. When the reward is sex you will drag your ass to the gym. I had been good at that for quite a while. I would do so again for her.

I had a much more difficult time feeling her up through her semi-formal corporate uniform. She helped me get her sweater vest over her head where it got stuck. Bethany giggled at this, and I took advantage of her blindness and moved her to our living room.

I told Bethany to sit on the couch, and left her in the sweater cocoon. Then I went to work on her baggy slacks. Those were much easier to get off. When I got to her panties, they exuded a hot musk that had built up over her day. It was an aroma from her very core, and I loved it.

When I began pulling them down, Bethany became a little hesitant. As much as that notion disturbed me, it would have been too hard to stop at that point. The pheromone was driving me crazy. She managed to get the sweater farther up her head exposing her mouth.

"Please," she said, "Go easy on me."

I knew exactly what a daunting task this was for her. Part of her was play-acting, but the alcohol made her more needy of my affections. It wasn't called a social lubricant for nothing.

Bethany spread herself open for me, and waited. Her hot pussy was exposed and wet before me. It must have been something mental that was wrong, because her body seemed to be into it. What I did would change everything. I look back and wonder if she had seen it coming, would she have let it happen? I withdrew the vial from my pocket, and after applying the fluid to my hand, I lathered up her welcoming pussy. She shivered as I rubbed it into her.

"What the hell is that?" she asked me. "It feels...oh God."

She shook in pleasure, and as she did I licked the combination of her juices and the fluid off my hand. I just couldn't resist it. The rush hit me immediately. I dove into her crotch, and licked at her swollen labia. Meanwhile, my cock swelled to new dimensions, and strained against my pants.

As I ate her, she began kicking out with her feet. I grabbed onto the underside of her thighs to hold her as she shook.

"Oh God," she said again, "What's going on? It's driving me crazy. What did you do to me?"

I pulled away from her with her juice covering my face. "Does it feel good?" I asked playfully.

"Stick your fucking cock in me," she cried. "Please."

How could a guy not want to oblige to that?

I pulled the sweater over rest of her head, and then ripped open her dress shirt. She didn't even mind that I popped a few of the buttons. Seeing those bright green eyes of hers full of lust was a joy. I had never seen her look this excited when it came to sex. She kissed me hard then, and licked her juices off of my face. Bethany took a moment to savor it, not only her love juice, but more of the pheromone. She didn't ask what I used on her. That didn't matter at that point.

Her breathing was heavy. I knew that she needed it now. The chemical driving her as crazy as it was me. She helped me get my clothes off, and in less than a minute, I was straddling her atop the floor. My cock was larger than it had ever been, and I rubbed along the outside of her hair-lined furrow. She hadn't been keen on shaving for some time, but did keep it reasonably trimmed. I wasn't one to criticize. The look in her eyes told me everything. I slowly poked in the head of it, and she closed her eyes with an intake of breath. There had never been this much wonderful build up.

Bethany noticed that I was larger, and I felt more resistance in her than I normally did. I held the underside of her thighs and tickled their bottoms with my thumbs, as I pushed my cock into her. It may as well have been the first time, and her a young virgin. She acted as though she was being filled up with some kind of beast.

She was beyond words at that point. It was all breathing and grunts from the both of us, which is always better than the retarded and nonsensical things that some people say during sex.

We began rocking our bodies together in a rhythm that stemmed from our connection. The wet feeling of her around my cock became such a hot tingling sensation that I wasn't sure that I would be able to last. I thrust harder and she squeezed me. It was like a war of attrition, and one of us was going to give in soon. We began sweating together, which some people might not like, but it was such a nice thing for me. We were just that into it. We may not have even possessed the consciousness of regular people at that point. We were just locked into the fucking.

Bethany was actually enjoying it. I can't began to describe how many times I had tried to reach this point, and been sadly denied. It was here now though. I wanted it to be even better for her. While one of my hands moved to grope at her breasts, the other found her clit, and began rubbing at it in the lightest way possible. Bethany cried out. This was working.

"Gonnna..." she said. "Oh baby..."

I felt her shake and quiver beneath me, and knew that she had climaxed. She grabbed at my arms with such force that it hurt, and she pulled me farther into her. Bethany wanted me to blow inside of her. We hadn't bothered with a condom. We were normally so clinical with that stuff, but this was not a screw that we had planned. I held off as long as I could, and kept at her. She squeezed her eyes closed, and gritted her teeth. She was on the verge of another orgasm. I had never thought us so lucky as to get to that point.

Eventually, I had to give in. My hands went to both her tits and squeezed their firm ripeness. I thought about how wonderful it would be if they were full of sweet milk for me to drink while I fucked her. My ass clinched as I spilled myself into her. The tingling release from the center of my being that was every orgasm reached a higher crescendo than I had ever known. I filled Bethany, and as it happened her second orgasm seemed to take her to a place far away from me.

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