The Bimbo Pill Pt. 01 - Mom

As if he were descending a scaffold, en route to his own execution, Max walked down the stairs, every line of his body screaming his reluctance. His head bowed, he crossed the room until he was standing in front of her.

"Yeah, Mom?" he repeated. His voice was a despairing whisper.

"So." She crossed her arms in front of her chest, staring up at him. Biting her lip, she made sure that the gesture lifted her breasts, just slightly. "I had a chance to do some thinking today. About what happened over the weekend."

Her son nodded. There was no more expression on his face than on a wax statue.

"And I have one question for you, young man."

He nodded again.

"Why aren't you eating my pussy right now?"

"Mom, I'm sor..." He did a double take. "Wait. What?" His eyes abruptly narrowed as she began to giggle helplessly. "Ronnie?"

"Surprise!" she squealed, laughing and jumping into arms. Before he could protest, she had pulled his head down for a kiss, her tongue slipping into his sweet mouth. He tasted so good! Groaning, she took one of his hands, and placed it on her left breast. Her nipple was already hard, rubbing against the inside of her bra-cup, driving her crazy.

"Wait." Her son pulled away. "We agreed. Veronica and me. We weren't going to do this again."

"Veronica changed her mind."

"Huh?"

She laid a hand against his cheek, savoring the slightly prickly feel of his stubble. She was going to have to start encouraging him to shave every day. She didn't need to get stubble rash down there. "Listen, baby. Veronica and I...we're not two different people. I'm her, and she's me. I'm not a schizoid, or a split personality.

"I'm just a part of her she almost forgot about. The horny bimbo that she was when school was over and it was time to have fun, back before your father did his best to ruin my life. The woman who loves cock more than a hot bath or a good night's sleep."

"But...Mom...you're..." He threw up his hands, frustrated. "Mom isn't stupid. She doesn't act the way you do!"

"She did, once. I did, once." She narrowed her eyes at him "And I'm not stupid, Max. I'm just horny. Can't your mind wrap around the concept that a woman can be a genius and a horny, slutty bimbo at the same time?"

He flushed. "I..."

She took pity on him. "It's hard, I know." She patted his crotch. "Though not nearly hard enough. You've only ever seen part of me. Only seen the focused career woman. Or the mother. But I have other sides. And Ronnie is one of them."

"But...your job. What if someone finds out?"

She shrugged, suddenly irritated. "I don't care about that right now. We'll talk about it later.

"The important question is, do you want to fuck?

"But not down here," she added. She rubbed her rear ruefully. "You gave me great big bruises on my butt the other day, sweetie. You're stronger than you think."

"I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted." She smiled up at him, basking in his warm male aura as the last tatters of Veronica fell away.

"But only if you fuck me."

She began to unbutton her sensible white shirt, but Max put a hand on her wrist, stopping her.

"Upstairs," he said, and now his blue eyes were blazing with a desire that matched hers. "If you take your clothes off down here, I won't want to wait to go upstairs. And neither will you.

"Besides," he added, his voice low and growly, making goosebumps break out on her arms, "I want to undress you myself."

She led him up the stairs, her hips swaying, taunting him with her sexy strut. Lust boiled in her belly, and she smiled. It had been so long. So long since she had been a sex-starved teenager, leading the boys of her choice on chases, knowing that she had every intention of letting them catch her. Back then, she had disguised her inner bimbo with a good-girl routine which fooled almost everyone. Now, with Max, she didn't have to hide it.

She hesitated a moment when she reached the upstairs hallway. For years, her bedroom had been, not a refuge, but a scene of bitter, whispered arguments, of long, cold silences, of anger and ingrained rage.

No. She led him to her room, her stride slow and sultry. Let the past be forgotten. Tonight, there was only the now.

She turned on the lamp, then spun slowly as Max closed the door behind them. "Did I fool you, honey?"

Her son let out a short laugh. "Yeah. To be honest, when you came indoors, screaming like a banshee, I nearly wet my pants. I damn near flipped a coin on whether I should come downstairs and face the music, or jump out the window."

"Max! It's eleven degrees outside!"

"Yeah. But I was sure that I was going to get a truly epic reaming." He smiled at her. "But then you laughed. And I knew that everything was going to be all right. I still can't believe you took the pill again." He tilted his head. "Do you think you'll keep taking it? To make you horny?"

She shook her head impatiently. Why did people always want to know about what was going to happen? The future, in her experience, would come soon enough, whether you wanted it to or not, and anyone who made plans was an idiot. "I don't know, and I don't care. All I know is that I love you." She cupped his cheek, her eyes welling with tears. "I love you, Max. I love how you touch me. I love your body, and how you feel when you're inside me. I love how you look at me, because I can see how much you want me."

"I do," he whispered, and he crossed the last distance between them, his hands, fingers shaking, rising to undo the buttons of her shirt. One by one he undid them until the garment was hanging open. Silently, he pushed it off her shoulders until it fell to the floor.

Next, the skirt. His hands found the zipper, and the slow ratchet as he lowered it sounded loud in the quiet room, broken only by the low hum of the furnace and an occasional creak and groan as the house waged its long battle against the swirling winter winds as the last embers of sunlight faded from the sky.

"No panties?" he said, smiling up at her from his knees. Her skirt was a black puddle of cloth at her feet.

"I took them off." She blushed, almost shy. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Hmmm." He grabbed her bottom, pulling her close. With a startled squeak, she felt his lips kiss her labia, and shifted, spreading her legs wide to give him access.

"Oh, baby," she sighed, tilting her hips, rolling her groin so his hot wet mouth could touch her all over. A groan escaped her as she felt his tongue lick at her folds, splitting her cleft to lap at the juices within, which filled her sheath to overflowing. "Yeah. That's a good boy. Eat Mommy's pussy."

She shuffled backwards, Max following her on his knees, until she hit the side of the bed. Falling backwards, she landed on her rear, then scooched up the bed until her head was propped on the pillows, but her legs were spread wide open.

"Take those clothes off," she demanded. "Then finish your meal." Her stern words were belied, however, by the smile that threatened to split her face. A man! Her son was a man! And one who wanted to fuck her and make her happy!

It took only seconds until Max was as naked as she. Though she had seen him only a few days ago, her eyes drank him in thirstily. His arms and legs were stronger than she remembered, his chest broader, his cock longer and thicker. It fairly leaped out of the small patch of pubic hair at his groin, boisterous as a shout, and Ronnie felt a surge of wetness as her pussy readied itself for her son.

"So. What first?" He smiled down at her. "Eating or screwing?"

She gathered her breasts in her hands, allowing her hips to tilt upwards, drawing his eyes to her groin. With every heartbeat, her cunt was hotter, wetter, pulsing with need.

"Eating, then fucking," she whispered. "But wait."

She pulled a pillow away from the headboard and slipped it under her hips. "There." She smiled up at him. The soft, cool linen was a balm to her bruised backside. "Better for you. And much better for me. Want to eat some hair pie?" she giggled. "Your dad never would. He said he didn't like the way I tasted."

"One more way Dad was an idiot," Max responded calmly. He lay down on the bed, his head resting in the angle of her thighs. Luckily, the bed was a large one, a full king-size, and Ronnie fantasized for a moment about the nights when she could go to sleep with her son beside her.

And maybe others? She remembered one night in high school when she had taken on both her boyfriend, and, when Jim's jealous ex-girlfriend had shown up at his house, the sexy brunette cheerleader as well. She had let Jim take her from behind, doggie-style, while eating Tabby's sweet teenage pussy. Her mind spun, her fertile imagination spawning fantasy after fantasy, as Max began to perform oral sex on her sopping cunt, her mind ablaze with lust.

It took only minutes. As worked up as she was, with Ronnie fueling the flames of her desire, as soon as Max started to tongue her bud she began to lose control. She reached down, her hands at his temples as she ground her aching, empty pussy up into his mouth. As he licked her, first circling her clit, then flicking it with the tip of his tongue, her thighs began to shake, the muscles on the insides of her legs twitching as she began to lose control. Max's nose ground against her mons, and his hands gripped her hips as he slurped at her sheath, and she laughed aloud for sheer pleasure and happiness. This was what she had been made for! This was right! As Max began to lick her slit in long, lingering strokes, she felt her climax begin, like the distant-rumblings of a far-off earthquake.

"I love you," she whispered. Startled, he raised his eyes to meet hers, though, to her gratitude, he did not stop, even for a second, his oral caresses. "I love the way you touch me. I love the way you eat me. I love the way you love me. And," she gasped, as he split her sheath with his tongue, sweeping up her moisture in a lick which seemed to reach her core, "I love the way you can make me cum. Oh, shit." She clasped him around the neck, pulling his face deeper into her groin, as the first tremors transformed into the jolts of what promised to be a truly stupendous orgasm. "Oh, God. Oh, Max I'm cumming!" Her hips snapped up, her thighs locking around his face. "Cumming! Cumming! Cumming!" she squealed, her voice echoing off the walls as her body shook in joyful release.

It went on and on, her body writhing in the grip of her climax. Starbursts spun like pinwheels in her vision, and her chest and face were flushed, her lungs gasping for air.

When she finally caught her breath and opened her eyes, it was to the sight of Max crouched above her, looking at her with an expression of real concern on his face.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"What's the matter, sweetie?" She drawled, bringing out her native Iowa cornbelt rasp, which she usually despised. "Ain't you never seen a woman have a really good cum before?"

"I thought I had," he replied, his voice oddly pensive. "I mean, Gwen usually told me that she had. But maybe she was lying. Maybe I was wrong."

She laughed at his slightly panicked expression. "Baby, if the way I saw you fucking her last month is any indication, there was no way she was faking it. Trust me on that. But Gwen didn't have years of catching up to do like I did." She shifted languidly on the mattress, her inner thighs rubbing together, setting up a wonderful friction inside her feminine core. "But look at you," she pouted. She curled her hand around his erection. His entire shaft was slick with his juice, and more bubbled out of his slit like a seeping spring. "Why isn't this inside me?"

He blinked down at her innocently. "I was waiting to be asked."

"Well, I does ask. And if that isn't enough, I begs."

"Trust me, Mom." He leaned down, kissing her mouth, one hand cupping her breast lovingly. "You will never have to beg me to fuck you."

He let his groin fall, slowly, slowly, until his cock-head was knocking at the gates of her portal. A shift of her legs, a grunt, a murmur of pleasure, and she sighed as he slipped into her, his wonderful length rubbing her canal in a way that was blissfully sensuous. Not in a rush, not a desperate fuck, full of odd, warring impulses.

No. This was love. A love as achingly pure as it was flatly, undeniably taboo.

I don't care, she thought mulishly, her palm lifting a breast so Max could suckle at her straining nipple. In response to the deep pull, she arched her back, forcing more of her flesh into the hot wet cavern of his mouth, his tongue running around and around her areola. I'm not planning on having a baby with him. Even though I could. I'm done with dirty diapers and day-care.

All I want to do is fuck my son every night.

She pulled him up from her breast, kissing him, then looking him in the eyes. "Always," she swore, hoping to express in a few halting words what she knew to be true in her innermost heart. "Always, Max."

Somehow, he understood, and nodded, even as his hips began to move more strongly, pushing her deeper into the mattress, pinning her with the force of his desire. "Always." His voice was hoarse, straining with need.

"Cum for me," she whispered.

And as if that one word was the trigger by which his own orgasm had been held in check, she felt his cock shudder inside her, painting her cunt with burst after burst of his cum. Hot as lava, thick as honey, it flooded her with a glow of warmth that was impossible to explain, and she held her son close and murmured words of incestuous love into his ear as his body sank down on hers.

*****

They lay entwined on the bed, panting in the warm afterglow of sex. Ronnie's head was pillowed on Max's shoulder, one leg flung over his hip.

"God." Her son stroked her back, and she arched into his touch as his hand found the curve of her butt. "Too bad you can't market that pill, Mom. Every bored, lonely housewife in America would want to buy it."

She blinked. Out of the depths of her mind, she could feel Veronica struggling towards the surface, like a swimmer making her way up from deep water. "What did you say?"

Unmindful of her sudden flare of attention, Max shrugged. She fought to keep herself from being distracted by his lovely body, all smooth, tight skin and ropy muscle. "Well, think about it. I bet there are hundreds of women, just like you. Thousands. Maybe millions. Who aren't happy with their lives, but who don't know how to break out of their rut.

"Maybe this pill could help them do that. It lowers inhibitions, obviously." He kissed her mouth, exploring it with languid thoroughness while she purred. "Just think about how many other women are in loveless marriages, or bad relationships, or just celibate, with no man or..." he blushed, obviously uncomfortable, "...woman to love. Maybe if they could let their...their..."

"Their inner slut out?" she suggested.

Max turned red. "Not the word I would have used," he muttered.

"But yeah. Maybe if they could get back in touch with their own sexuality, they would be able to be brave enough to change their lives."

"You know," she said quietly, "that's just crazy enough to work."

She leaped out of bed.

"I have to think."

*****

"All right, Ms. Melton." The CEO of Biodyne, a silver-haired man in his sixties, sat heavily in his leather-upholstered chair in the boardroom. In the floor-to-ceiling windows to the south, another gray Minnesota morning could be seen. "I hope you can explain why you have called us all together for a meeting on next to no notice. Some of us have real work to do."

"I do, Mr. Walker." Veronica sat on her urge to call the old fart out. Roger Walker hadn't seen anything deeper than the bottom of a bottle of scotch in years. But as the public face of Biodyne, he could kill her presentation single-handed if he wished. She smiled at the assembled group, the most powerful people at one of the most successful pharmaceutical companies in America.

"I am here to discuss the future of experimental drug NCC-1701A, temporary name, 'Mentothal.'"

"'Mentothal?'" Halfway down the table, a well-dressed man snorted. "Isn't that the one that the Department of Justice wants to kill?"

"Exactly, Frank." Veronica kept her smile plastered to her face. "After time for reflection, I find myself in agreement with the government's position, even though I opposed it at first."

"You can say that again," a woman muttered. "I could hear you shouting all the way down in Marketing."

"Yes. Mentothal is not a drug which can be safely used in criminal cases. Both the ethical and legal dangers are far too acute for us to take such a risk. Biodyne would find itself in severe legal jeopardy."

"Then why are we here?"

She kept her smile bright and cheerful, summoning her inner Ronnie. "Well, sometime when a door is closed, a window opens." She was flying now, fueled by caffeine and the kind of hectic energy you only felt after pulling an all-nighter, trying to put together a presentation for a group of corporate sharks who could smell weakness like blood in the water. At her nod, her assistant began to pass around a batch of stapled handouts, so fresh from the copy machine that they were still warm.

"I apologize for the crudity of the presentation," she said, turning on the big-screen television which took up one end of the boardroom with a flick of her finger on the remote. "But I felt that brevity and clarity were more important than fancy graphics.

"As you all know, Mentothal works by weakening and subsuming the ego within the human psyche, to the point where telling a coherent lie, making long-term plans, or any of a half-dozen other things are all but impossible. This is what first led us to view it as a potential tool for law enforcement.

"After much thought," and much fucking, "I believe I have discovered another potential application. One that has the potential to be vastly more lucrative, from a bottom-line perspective."

At those words, several people, who had seemed to be on the verge of dozing off into sleep, sat up straight, their interest piqued. Nothing got their attention better than the promise of good-old American dollars. "Under the influence of Mentothal, inhibitions are lowered, long-term planning all but nonexistent. The body and mind both revert to, if I may be allowed to be crude, a much simpler state of being, where the satisfaction of basic bodily urges becomes the primary focus of the user's mind.

"Now. What does that remind us of?"

A woman on the far side of the room let out a brief bark of laughter. "Sounds like my teenage son."

"Precisely." She smiled at the room. Her body glowed in the aftermath of pleasure, and she wondered how many of the company would be horrified that she was counting down the hours until she could take another little white pill, and fuck her son again.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you the Holy Grail of pharmacy.

"Female Viagra.

"Or, as I like to call it...

"The Bimbo Pill."

The End

Coming soon...

Veronica and Max are ecstatically happy with their new relationship. But when Veronica, under the influence of the bimbo pill, accidentally confides to her daughter that she's been screwing Max, there's hell to pay! Linda comes home, determined to put an end to their unnatural love. But when Linda, egged on by her mother, takes the bimbo pill herself, her transformation is astonishing! Watch the e-book shelves for the sequel:

"Help, My Sister's a Bimbo, Too!"