Sacrifices

My God, her pussy tastes good, I thought to myself. So good, I can’t believe it!

Maybe it took a minute, possibly several, but by the time Patricia moaned in ecstasy and came, I realized her pussy didn’t taste as good as Dottie’s; no, it tasted exactly like Dottie’s!

***

In the end, I licked Patricia to three more orgasms before I was sure. My experience had been that no two girls tasted exactly the same until now, but suddenly I found two girls with the same exact flavor on two consecutive nights. I had to get to the bottom of it.

I waited as she came down from that fourth orgasm before asking, “Patricia, do you and Dottie eat meals together?”

“What? What do you mean?”

“Answer the question; it’s important. Do you and Dottie eat meals together?”

“Only on House dinner night, ah, Mondays. We eat together occasionally beyond that, but haven’t since, ah, last weekend.”

“What have you eaten in the last 24 hours?”

“Huh?”

“Answer the question, dammit! What have you eaten?”

Taking my chair while still stark naked, I was writing furiously as she answered. Recording it all, I read it back to her. “Anything else? No? What about drinks?”

Again, she answered, I read it off, and she confirmed.

“Any drugs? Prescription or not? Pot? Alcohol?”

Other than birth control pills, she said “No,” rather angrily, to the question about drugs, but was just shaking her head as I added more to the list.

“Anything else? Anything you’ve done with Dottie?”

Standing before me, she shook her head, causing her rather glorious tits to wobble delightfully. My little trooper responded, becoming my much bigger guy in seconds, and Patricia noted it appreciatively. Smiling, she pushed my paper to the side and climbed onto my lap with her legs resting on the arms of my chair and her vulva pressed against me.

“I haven’t done this since I broke up with my boyfriend two months ago. Oh, it feels good. Mmmm.”

Yes, it did, to me, too, so I slid my arms around her, holding her butt and kneading it. That felt quite good, too.

“Got a condom?” she whispered as she ground her lips up and down me. “Good,” she replied in response to my nod. “I’m on the pill but I like protection anyway. Can you reach it?”

Several seconds later, she was rolling it down my length, giving me a few more strokes than were really necessary, before cupping a hand under my balls. Then she was grinding against me again, I started rocking against her, and when she arched just right, my head found its way into her opening. That’s where it stopped, at the border of her paradise, for just long enough for my anger to completely subside. Soon, we were both giggling as we squirmed against each other, trying to slide me into her as we kissed and I massaged her big breasts, which seemed to be competing for my kisses.

Despite all of our efforts, it was a surprise when my dick finally went in, sliding all the way into her soft warmth to the sounds of a squelch and her moan. I quickly flipped my desk fan on, moreso to cover the noise than to cool us.

Patricia ground herself against me for a bit before using her legs resting on the arms of the chair to lift herself up and slide back down. I rocked against her as she did, slamming us together before sliding back out to meet her again. My thumb found her little button and I started flicking it as we continued our seated dance.

She had fine and rather shapely legs and they were in good shape, but Patricia wasn’t a track and field athlete, so she found herself tiring after a while.

“Put your arms around my neck and hold on,” I said before standing up with my dick still barely inside her. She re-impaled herself fully on me and threw her legs around behind me. Turning, I hung her ass on the edge of my desk and started some good hard thrusting into her.

“Oh, Frank! Keep going!” she whispered before nipping the base of my neck just above my clavicle. It was harder than she probably intended, so I slid my hand up, cupped her breast, and pinched her nipple in reply as I pounded her.

She stretched the word “Fuck!” out to several seconds as she came, her vagina quivering around me. I held her, rubbing her back while she panted against me, as I chanted Austin Powers’ “Margaret Thatcher naked on a cold day” over and over in my mind like he’d done in the movie a few years before.

When she could breathe again, Patricia said, “Frank, that was so good. Thank you.”

Whether it was the thought of the former British PM in her birthday suit or just the repeated chant, something helped keep me from losing it and I was back off the ledge. Looking into her eyes, I replied, “Oh, Patricia, we’re not done yet.”

Turning her around, I bent her over my desk, reached my hand in front of her to find her clit once more, and then started pounding her from behind until, with Margaret Thatcher forgotten, we both came.

***

Patricia wanted me to go to dinner with her, but I had too much to think about. When we were dressed, I gave her a kiss on the cheek and pushed her out the door to my little office before locking it back behind her. Then, I slumped in my chair trying to think.

My anger at Dottie and Patricia, so much at the forefront, was gone, but it had been replaced by a burning question, a very important one.

Could the same wonderful taste from two different women be due to our experimental drug?

Oh, perhaps there were minor differences between them, but with the lapse of twenty-something hours between them, only the primary flavor was remembered. As one doesn’t mistake the taste of lemon meringue pie for key lime, I knew that Dottie’’s and Patricia’s sweet pies were essentially the same.

Turning on my computer monitor, I brought up my email program and typed a message to Dottie. It included the same questions I’d asked Patricia and was identified as being a follow-up to the clinical trial, so I hoped she would answer.

For the next several hours, I studied the project records and the list of study participants who still had to come in for their final consultation. There were still twenty women who would be coming back in; I could only hope that would be enough.

***

Dottie’s reply, with no additional note, came the next day. She reported nothing in common with Patricia but no to all the other questions, too, so I hoped that I might find something before closing the books on our program.

Twenty more female participants came through for their final check over the following days, and I told them of some additional testing that we needed to do because of a possible side effect of the trials. Since they were being paid for their time, seventeen allowed me to take vaginal swabs and pH samples in addition to the regular tests. I moved the visits from my office to a clinic room and was careful to use gloves and supply a modesty cover to each young lady to keep everything properly clinical.

A few of the young ladies actually used the modesty cover, which kept them covered except for the few seconds when I had to pull up the flap to take the samples. Most, though, laughed and thought it rather silly, or, according to an English major, “quaint.”

In the end, I found that all of them had rather different but equally beautiful vaginas, and all of the test results were consistent.

I thanked each in turn, dismissed them from the program, and then made one other request of each.

***

Since I’d already done personal investigative work on Dot—ahem, two of the participants—I took it on myself to go out with twelve of the seventeen over the next two weeks as the semester wound down.

Three of the other five had husbands or boyfriends so they all gave me a flat “No,” one said “No way!” without further explanation, and the last said she’d think about it but never got back to me.

To my surprise, seven of the twelve dates went well enough for me to be allowed to go down on them before the evening was over. With the exception of thinking of Dottie and my time in the Pharmaceutical Chemistry 4432 exam, I doubt that my face was without a smile during that entire period.

My conclusion was that the first three young ladies had consistently, superbly sweet vaginas, the tastes of which were too remarkably similar to Dottie’s and Patricia’s to be coincidence. The next two still tasted quite good, but the sweetness had trailed off as our experimental drug left their system. The last two were great, but were as varied as any other young women I’d ever sampled; for them, I assumed any effects of our drug were completely gone.

However, there was another advantage to those two weeks. The cunnilingual practice was also so excellent that four of the seven left me extremely well fucked before the evening was over. Talk about that smile!

There was one disadvantage, though. The number of phone calls I received from my dates over the following days trying to arrange additional dates before they left for home for the summer finally led me to take my phone off the hook and the one girl I wanted to answer my calls never would.

***

I don’t know how long I sat in front of Dottie’s dorm before I finally saw her approaching. Suspecting that she would avoid me if she saw me, I was wearing a cap and dark sunglasses, only taking them off when it was too late for her to escape.

“Hi, Dottie. Can we talk?”

Hurt or maybe disappointment flashed her face. “Frank, please, don’t make this harder than it already is. I like you so much, but I can’t be in a relationship with you.”

“Okay, no relationship. Got it. But can we talk?”

She thought for a moment before nodding and sitting down on the step next to me.

“Patricia said she had a great time. ‘The best ever,’ I think she said.”

A bit embarrassed, I couldn’t help but smile. “I’m…I’m glad. I wasn’t very nice to her at first, trying to strike back at you. I couldn’t believe you’d try to foist your friend on me.”

“She broke up with her boyfriend a while back and has had it rough since then. She’s a really sweet girl and I thought you might hit it off and forget about me while helping her get past her problem. You know, two birds, one stone?”

“I said I was mean to her, not that I was trying to kill her.”

“Well, I don’t think she noticed, either way. She said you were wonderful and that if things were a bit different, she’d chase you next year until she caught you, but she understood and said she’d leave you be.”

“Good. Despite the way things have gone in recent days, there’s only one girl who interests me.” Though I didn’t say it, my eyes told her who.

“Frank…”

“Sorry, but it’s true.”

She nodded and leaned into me, resting her head against my chest as I slipped my arm around her. “I wish we had time, Frank, to see if we’re really two great but erstwhile lovers or just two great lovers of cunnilingus.”

I laughed in spite of myself and she gave me an affectionate little punch.

Dottie paused for a time as we held each other so comfortingly, but she finally turned and looked into my eyes to say, “I have to pack before going out with some of my sorority sisters—you know, one last bash before graduation tomorrow—but…I’ve actually got a little time right now. Want to come in for a bit, maybe for one last…?”

I smiled, she took me by the hand, and we walked inside.

***

The resident advisor/dorm monitor wasn’t present at the desk, so we slipped up to the third floor and into Dottie’s room without being stopped. All of the young women we passed smiled, with many of them having snuck young men of their own in at one time or another.

Dottie sat down on the bed and pulled me down with her. Our lips connected, and I was in heaven as we lay back and our bodies and limbs became entangled.

We took our time, kissing and touching lovingly as we slowly undressed each other and sent our clothes sailing in random directions. I explored her and she did the same with me, and we basked in the love we shared through our actions that our circumstances dictated we couldn’t express in words.

When I couldn’t find the hook on her bra, she giggled and whispered, “Athletic bra, silly! I didn’t exactly dress for this when I woke up this morning.”

Grinning, I peeled it up and enjoyed watching her breasts spring out before smothering them in my kisses. Dottie freed me of my underpants then and started a slow, gentle pump that caused me to throb in anticipation.

The gusset of her cotton panties was soaked by the time I slid them off of her, whether from her own anticipation or my nibbling her through them, I wasn’t sure. They went flying, too, only to land on the knob of her closet door, leaving them hanging much like our relationship. Turning away, I buried my face in her crotch and feasted on her sweet pussy.

Her taste was different now, not so sweet as when she’d been taking the experimental drug, but still great nonetheless, so I gave her all the pleasure I could. It was a wonderful feeling as I cradled her legs in my arms, tongued her clit, and occasionally slid into her depths, but even better when I saw her getting close and then took her over the edge into an intense orgasm. Seeing Dottie’s fists balled, gripping the sheet, as she came made me smile, but then I saw the tears on her cheeks. I moved up and held her to me, realizing that she felt the same as me and that words weren’t required. She put her head against my chest as she enjoyed her euphoria.

My eyes were closed and I was breathing in the scent of her hair when she shifted up and kissed me. It was a whisper when she said, “Make love to me, Frank. Make me forget for just a moment.”

Dottie rolled the condom on me and then kissed me as I positioned myself over her. She directed me to her opening and I slid inside. Slow but sure, I moved in and out, a bit deeper each time until I was tight against her and snuggled so comfortably in her grip.

She reached up then and kissed me before giving me a smile and a nod. Still quite slowly, I started moving again, exploring her depths with each thrust. She gave a little moan with each and was soon biting her lower lip, whether to keep things quiet, to prolong our lovemaking, or both, I wasn’t sure.

As we continued our movements, we embraced and Dottie’s legs went around me, gripping me tighter as my thrusts became harder and our breathing came faster. Over time, I could feel my buildup, that subtle tensing leading to the inevitable and most wonderful explosion, and, even more, the hard-fought fight to prolong it, to make it last, to hold out until Dottie was ready.

And then she was, her moans growing louder as my assault intensified. It wasn’t much longer before she moaned, long and hard, to match my deep groan as I sent shot after pleasurable shot into the condom.

It was heavenly, the best and most sensual experience in my life. When we were spent, we lay holding each other as we panted in unison, with me stroking her hair as her face snuggled against my chest.

Minutes passed, two or three, I would imagine, before I finally said what I was feeling in spite of my earlier determination to bite my tongue.

“Dottie, I love you.”

She punched me, not hard, but enough I felt it. “Shhhh! Don’t ruin the moment, Frank. It doesn’t matter if you love me or that I love you; it’s not going to work so let’s let it go and enjoy the time we have now. Now, shush. Not another word.”

I nodded, smiling that she’d admitted, whether she realized it or not, that she loved me, too, and fighting tears from the knowledge that she loved me but it wouldn’t matter in the end.

We lay there together, holding each other for quite some time, until Dottie finally said, “I need to get ready to go.”

“Okay. Can I see you at graduation tomorrow?” I asked as I sat up and started searching the room for my boxer briefs.

Dottie didn’t bother with the clothes, pulling a silky robe out of her closet instead and slipping it on. Her nipples were great accents, making me force myself to look away.

“No, Frank. My parents will be here, and it would be too much to explain all of this, if I could even do it through the tears.”

“But—”

“Please don’t, Frank. Let’s let this be our memory, a really happy one. If I see you tomorrow, it will make me cry and will ruin the day. Please?”

Dottie sent me on my way with a kiss and quiet goodbye. The next day, I attended graduation but stayed in the back where I made sure Dottie wouldn’t see me and her parents would never know of my existence.

My heart swelled as I heard her name called. I watched her cross the stage and receive her diploma, but then it felt as if it was bursting when she kept walking right out of my life.

***

“That’s it, we’re done, Frank. Our pharmaceutical partner has withdrawn and told us to destroy the samples. Every testing site reports that it’s a complete and utter failure, so they don’t even want to pay shipping to have everything returned to their warehouse.”

“I’ll take care of it, Dr. Leander,” I replied.

Most everything was subsequently destroyed according to the protocols, but I kept copies of all of our records and paperwork, and enough stock of the drug for some additional testing. The folks at the Food and Drug Administration would have had a cow, but what they didn’t know…

I earned my PhD the next year and went to work for a big pharma company, but I did a lot of outside research, too. Within three years at my new firm, I’d assisted in making a lot of progress on several new drugs.

All that time, though, I was moonlighting, trying desperately to determine the formula and then replicate the important part using all natural herbs and extracts to avoid the need for FDA approval. Since this was a new formulation of an abandoned test drug, I could get the rights to it and potentially market it as a supplement rather than a drug, but first, I would have to do some testing of my own. To do that, I needed a business front, so I established a limited liability company, rented a tiny office, and hired a private apothecary to manufacture some of my new herbal tablets.

The new tabs also had to be tested, so I went through the records from the testing four years earlier. Taking out a mortgage on my late grandparents’ farm gave me some working capital, so, after consulting an attorney to write up the terms, I started contacting as many of the females as I could find from the earlier study and asked them to participate in a new clinical study with my new firm.

Considering the new supplement was organic, all-natural, and potentially of benefit to females, several of those who lived nearby agreed. I also had over twenty new volunteers suggested by the original participants, bringing my test group to thirty. On a tight budget, I skipped the usual placebo part of the study since I already knew what the result would be from prior cunnilingual experience.

Each woman in my new test had to go on the same controlled diet as during the original trials, and each had to be willing to undergo the same weekly testing as during the earlier drug test, plus weekly vaginal swabs, pH testing, and a weekly personal smell and taste assessment. Although a few women dropped out on discovering just what the later parts of the testing entailed, a surprising number stuck with it, and the ranks of participants continued to swell, as did my tongue from excessive but quite enjoyable use. When I had my 34th participant, I said enough, knowing that it was getting expensive.

After four weeks, I was sure that the supplement, when teamed with the proper diet in women with no outside medical issues, resulted in wonderfully sweet vaginas that would tempt men (or women) that had never before chosen to dine at the wye. By eight weeks, when the study concluded, I had no doubts; I was broke as could be but I had a winner on my hands.