Side Effects

What next? Kathryn cast about for her next move as she gazed out across the central atrium and the elevator doors whirred closed behind her Oh—right. Up, she recalled, hazily. She braced herself and began to turn away from the window to press the button for the second floor, hesitantly expecting to receive another jolt of electricity. Instead, before she could even fully turn around, a pair of strong hands grabbed her wrists and forced her back to the window, her open palms pinned flat against the glass. Even with her senses on overdrive, she hadn't heard anyone step into the elevator behind her. Kathryn's breath caught in her throat—she had been certain that she was alone in the elevator car.

Kathryn tried to whip her head around to determine the identity of the stranger pinning her up against the glass. She let out a huge sigh of relief when she discovered that it was Anthony, her Anthony, smiling down at her. He was bare-chested and still a bit damp, as if he'd just stepped out of the shower. Also a strange outfit for the shopping mall, she thought. He looked her up and down, his gaze lingering for a long moment on the curve of her unrestrained breasts hanging loose in her hoodie. She shivered again when she saw what appeared to be a less-than-honorable glint in his eye and felt him lean in close to her ear to whisper: "Don't move. Just look straight ahead."

The tingling in Kathryn's arm became a steady throb as she closed her eyes, swallowed, and turned her head back to face forward, opening her eyes again to look out over the mall through the elevator's floor-to-ceiling glass wall. Although Anthony's hands hadn't moved from her wrists to press any of the elevator's buttons, she felt the car begin to rise. Her perspective slowly changed as the car emerged from behind the cluster of manicured trees ringing the water feature below; she could see out over the crowds of couples milling about—no, making out, peeling one another's clothes off, devouring one another's exposed flesh—as they fell away below the ascending car. What the hell is happening? her mind raced, and she started to try to break free, to run. The grip holding her wrists to the glass tightened, and she felt Anthony's warm breath at her ear once again: "I said: Don't. Move."

Kathryn shuddered and she complied, resisting the urge to pull away from the glass. After a moment, she felt Anthony's hands relax in response and start to glide slowly up her arms. The throbbing in her body grew more intense—vaccination site! fingertips! temples! breasts! toes! clit? oh, yes! her clit, too!—as his hands lingered on her shoulders, squeezing and kneading them, before proceeding down her sides, dragging the loose fabric of the hoodie in wrinkled ripples over the sides of her breasts. She tried to focus—focus!—as the elevator car slowed to a stop high up in the air. She now had a panoramic vantage point over the carnal exhibition unfolding below her as she rested her forehead against the cool glass. Anthony's hands reached the bottom of her sweatshirt and began to draw the fabric upwards over her body.

She could feel every muscle straining in anticipation—pulse!—as Anthony pulled the hoodie up, up, up, its hem catching on her—terribly erect!—nipples for only a moment before springing free, exposing her breasts—her aching, throbbing breasts—to the entire shopping mall. Without any hesitation at all, he continued pulling the hoodie up, up, up, and she pulled her sweaty palms off of the glass just long enough for him to tug the garment over her head and free of her body entirely. He casually discarded it somewhere over his shoulder before grabbing her wrists again and pinning them back against the glass, her flushing torso now completely and brazenly exposed. Her palms, now coated in a sheen of sweat, began to flutter against the glass, her embarrassment—pulse!—at being so wantonly placed on display like this overwhelming her willingness and ability—focus!—to follow the direction that was being repeated again in her ear—more urgently, breathier this time: "Kathryn: Don't. Move." Then, after what felt like a very long moment: "Watch them surrender to their lust. You're next."

Time slowed to a crawl. In the stillness, Kathryn noted how very shallow and uneven her breath had become. She heard her heartbeat rushing in her ears—pulse! pulse! pulse!—as she gazed unsteadily down upon the bona fide orgy now taking place below: the far-away couples' fingers tousling one another's hair as their limbs tangled together; mouths feasting on mouths, breasts, erect penises; thighs splayed wide as cocks plunged deeply into wet pussies. It was as if every lewd act that Kathryn had ever dreamed up in her most salacious wet dreams were playing out soundlessly down there. And she was next.

Kathryn's arousal surged as she felt Anthony press his smooth, still-damp chest into her bare back, pulling her tight against him as his hands descended to assertively knead her breasts—pulse! She felt the condensation of her breath clouding the glass as she squeezed her eyes shut ("Please, don't anybody look up here!"), and then she felt Anthony's tongue tracing her earlobe, his left hand pinching her turgid nipple, and his right hand snaking down her belly, under her waistband and into her panties, brushing past her swollen clit and plunging deep inside her very, very wet pussy. Kathryn's hips involuntarily jerked forwards, her body demanding more ("Oh, who the fuck cares...let them look as long as he doesn't stop touching me!"). She screwed her eyes shut, gasped—pulse!—and tried, tried to remember—focus!—the last time she'd felt so exposed, so animalistic, so blatantly sexual...

Kathryn opened her eyes and looked down, locking eyes with one couple far below through the fogged glass—and then another and then another—as the entire mall below seemed to take notice of her bared breasts, her arousal, the wanton way that she ground herself into Anthony's palm. Kathryn looked down on a sea of faces smiling hungrily upwards at her, watched their owners fuck one another as they watched her, and she bucked hard against the fingers penetrating her sex, slowly surrendering to the orgasm building inside her. She knew it was inevitable now. She was going to cum. She was going to cum pressed up against a sheet of glass before an enormous audience of admirers, each in the midst of consummating one of her own secret, unspoken sexual fantasies. The only thing that it would take to finally push her over the brink would be one...more...wave...of...arousal...from...her...injection...site...

* * * * *

Kathryn awoke with a start. She was panting and she had broken into a sweat, with her pajamas and the sheets tangled around her. Her head felt heavy and fuzzy, and it took a half a moment for her to realize that it was her left hand pulling urgently at her nipple and her right shoved deep into her moist panties, frigging her clit with abandon. She winced once she realized what she was doing—she didn 't masturbate! she had more important things to do than to lie around and pleasure herself !—but here she was, and she couldn't bring herself to stop, allowing her fingers to follow wherever the insistent throbbing coursing through her body was guiding them. She moaned softly and rocked her hips, sliding one, then two digits deep inside her dripping pussy, curling to clutch at the velvet ridges deep inside. She saw stars as her first orgasm overtook her. Pulse!

Usually, Kathryn was too sensitive after a climax to continue. But tonight, one orgasm wasn't nearly enough. Kathryn continued to finger fuck herself with abandon, riding the crest of her first climax and spurring herself onward to a second. It didn't take long for Kathryn's frantic movements and urgent whimpers to cause Anthony, curled up beside her, to stir. As he stretched and rolled over to face her—ouch! sore arm!— Kathryn's rhythmic movements, breathy gasps, and the musky scent of her arousal quickly filled his consciousness and caused him to more fully awaken with a start.

"Honey, are you...OK?" he mumbled, as he blinked the sleep out of his eyes and strained to make out the details of her form moving in the darkness. He reached out to place a gentle hand on Kathryn's shoulder and was surprised to feel her...convulsing? Shuddering? When she groaned again, it began to dawn on him what it was she was doing—getting herself off?!—and, despite his shock at the discovery of her normally-out-of-character behavior, he was undeniably turned on by it. He was rock hard in a flash, his cock throbbing with anticipation.

He rolled up onto one elbow, looking down on her in wonder, and then rolled back to turn on the bedside light before returning to gaze with astonishment as she furiously masturbated herself. This was...unlike her. It would have been unusual anytime, but especially lately, given how exhausted she'd been—how exhausted and frustrated and testy they'd all been. That said, he wasn't about to let an opportunity like this go to waste. Anthony sat up, gently pulling the sheets free from around Kathryn's rocking form. He grabbed the hem of her pajama pants and tugged them roughly down, along with her sodden panties. Kathryn squeezed her eyes tightly closed (in embarrassment? with irrepressible arousal?), and she immediately flung her now-unconstrained legs wide open, giving herself more room to move. She released her nipple, used her free hand to spread her pussy lips wide, and redoubled her efforts to finger fuck herself. She simply couldn't stop, not with the pulsing through her body making her feel so...sensitive. So...needy. So...unfulfilled.

Anthony stared. He had never seen Kathryn touch herself. Nor acting so brazenly. He gaped at her uninhibited display of raw sexuality until she suddenly stopped and glared at him, acutely aware that he was now awake and leering at her. "Don't just sit there watching, goddamit. Touch me. Lick me. Fuck me," she demanded.

Anthony didn't have to be told twice. Snapping out of his trance, he dove between her legs, hoisting her feet up over his shoulders and plunging his tongue between her swollen folds. Good lord, she had never been so wet before! He reached up to grasp her breasts as he frantically tongued her clit but found her hands already there, twisting and pulling hard on her impossibly erect nipples. His mind reeled as he sucked her clit into his mouth, swirling around it with his tongue and eliciting an uncharacteristically loud and guttural groan. Kathryn was never this into sex! He'd been trying for years to get her to touch her own breasts while he licked her or fucked her, but never to any avail. "I just don't feel anything when I do that," she'd always said.

But tonight... Tonight, she could feel all of it. Kathryn's mind was on the verge of melting with the feelings coursing through her, her legs tightly wrapped around Anthony's back, pulling him deeper, deeper as he feasted on her sex. And then there was her arm. She had never thought of her bicep as an erogenous zone before, but it, too, throbbed with pleasure as if connected directly to the nape of her neck, the tender spot behind her ear, the sensitive outside curve of her breasts, and the sodden folds of her tender pussy.

Kathryn came again with a yelp, and then she came a third and fourth time when Anthony scrambled up her body, tugged his pants down frantically, and thrust himself deep inside of her. She babbled incoherently as her body throbbed and pulsed in time with every one of his desperate thrusts. When he finally came with a mighty gasp, shooting his cum deep inside of her, her body continued to pulse—pulse!—milking the cum from his cock and causing him to groan aloud in ecstasy as he collapsed on top of her.

The throbbing in Kathryn's body didn't stop, not even after Anthony had rolled off and spooned around her, dozing off in a haze of bliss. Kathryn's lurid dreams didn't stop, either. They were a whirlwind of powerful erotic imagery and taboo sexual scenarios that she never would have admitted to anyone else of conjuring up, let alone being turned on by: Making love to Anthony outdoors on a muggy summer afternoon beside a babbling brook in the National Forest, the indecency of being sprawled naked on a blanket with Anthony's cock poisoning in and out of her deliciously heightened by the risk of being discovered in flagrante delicto by other hikers. Attending a work conference and ending up in a hotel room next door to two of her colleagues who were a couple; listening to them give each other a cascade of orgasms late at night through the paper-thin walls, touching herself and surreptitiously sharing in their uninhibited bliss. Lounging naked in a hot tub beside a mountain cabin under the stars, a soft shower of snow falling about her, with friends and colleagues and neighbors, male and female alike, taking turns slipping in and out of the warm water, kissing her, suckling her breasts, touching her body, making her cum again and again as she floated lazily in the tub and simply allowed her body to be worshipped...

Kathryn found herself drifting in and out of sleep for the rest of the night, sprawled naked on the bed with one or the other of her hands buried between her legs, sometimes rubbing languidly, other times frantically trying to keep time with the pulsing in her arm and the staggering eroticism of her dreams.

After the second time that Kathryn had awakened Anthony and ridden him to a crashing climax—one that was as close to a simultaneous orgasm as they'd ever managed together—they both finally collapsed next to one another out of sheer physical exhaustion. Even as Kathryn finally surrendered to the blackness, she was certain that she could feel the inexorable rhythm of the pulsing spreading, becoming part of the very fabric of her being...

* * * * *

When Kathryn finally awoke the next morning, the sun was streaming through the bedroom windows. Her mouth felt dry, her naked body was sore (and more than a bit sticky), and the room absolutely reeked of sex. She groaned and squeezed her eyes shut, more tired than she'd felt in weeks, but—remarkably—not in the way that she normally associated with the flu. She took mental stock of the symptoms that she was expecting to experience this morning: Headache? Nope (excepting from all of the damned sunlight). No chills that would normally accompany a fever. And no real sense of nausea...although perhaps a pang of hunger?

She opened her eyes again and turned her head to discover Anthony, also nude and mussed and laying on his side facing her, grinning like a Cheshire Cat. "'Morning, sweetie," he drawled. "How're you feeling today?"

Kathryn rolled her eyes and then closed then again. "Tired and sore," she grumbled. "I can't believe you kept me up all night like that."

"Me keep you up?" Anthony exclaimed, sounding offended. "No, no, no... That was definitely not me. I was planning on letting you get a solid night of sleep after how frazzled you looked at dinner last night. Scout's honor."

Kathryn grabbed a pillow from above her head and started to roll over to hit Anthony in the head with it—Asshole, blaming her for the night of sexual abandon that he 'd so obviously enjoyed!— when she rolled onto the spot on her arm where the syringe had penetrated her skin and stars suddenly exploded across her field of vision. She groaned loudly and jerked her hips as a bolt of electricity shot straight from her bicep to her clit, as if someone had suddenly clamped her most powerful vibrator directly onto her pussy on its highest setting.

Anthony went pale and cried out her name in concern, immediately reaching out for her. Kathryn simply closed her eyes and whimpered, a crimson flush exploding across her cheeks and upper chest. Anthony froze for a beat before an incredulous look spread across his face. "Are you fucking kidding me?" he gaped as he watched Kathryn's face contort with pleasure, her wet pussy squelching loudly as she surrendered to the sensations flooding her body once again.

There was a noise outside the closed bedroom door and Anthony's heart skipped a beat—the girls! He sat bolt upright, frantically trying to tug the tangled sheets up and over both of them to preserve at least a bit of their modesty before the door swung open. Kathryn, on the other hand, was already too far gone to react. She continued breathing rapidly, eyes fluttering behind her eyelids, as she quaked with the intensity of her arousal. A small voice in the back of her mind shouted at her—focus, Kathryn!—but her mind was a blur, and the only anchor that she could cling to was the incessant pulsing in her arm—pulse!—her head—pulse!—her belly—pulse!—her toes—pulse!—and the urgent need for her very wet pussy to be stuffed full of something hot and hard and also pulsing....

Thankfully, the door did not open. Anthony's mother's voice could be heard calling out over her determined footsteps, padding briskly up the stairs. "Girls!" she called out, sotto voce. "Girls! Come away from that door and let's go on downstairs!"

Inside the bedroom, Kathryn shuddered and groaned again, fighting to contain the surge of arousal that threatened to erase her very sense of self.

There was a pause from outside the room. "It sounds like your mom isn't feeling so well this morning," the girls' grandmother said. The voices began to recede, a flurry of footfalls sounding on down the stairs. "I bet it's the side-effects of that vaccine. Let's let them both sleep in a bit longer today. C'mon..." The commotion faded as the threesome headed off to breakfast and then (likely) to consume a few hours of Saturday morning cartoons together in the basement on the big-screen TV.

Anthony let out a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. He looked down at Kathryn, still lying on her side next to him, silently shaking with her eyes closed and nostrils flared. He did a double-take when he realized that one of her hands was once again jammed between her thighs, rocking in time with her shallow breaths. Both turned on and more than a little taken aback by the sight, Anthony realized that he simply had no idea how to respond to the radical change in Kathryn's demeanor. This couldn't be for real...?

He set his resolve and tried checking his libido, deciding to try playing it safe since Kathryn was clearly still recuperating from the effects of her vaccine; taking advantage of her "condition"—again—might be perceived as being very un-gentleman-like. "So... do you...wanna go down and check on the girls? Get a little bit of coffee or something?" He watched her brow furrow as she ground the palm of her hand more assertively into her clit and concluded that chivalry was probably the last thing on Kathryn's mind. He was thoroughly pleased to be proven correct.

"Fuck me," Kathryn rasped in a low, urgent growl. Her eyes snapped open and bore deep into his. "Fuck me, Anthony. Right. Now." Before Anthony could formulate a coherent response, Kathryn rolled atop him and impaled herself on his rapidly swelling cock, enveloping him with all of her passionate warm wetness and riding him to orgasm after orgasm in the dusky light of the early morning.

Before long, it became impossible for her to tell where the ache in her arm left off and the ache between her legs began.