The Green Pill

Sonia had signed up for the experimental drug test a week ago. Enough time for her fantasies to go up the ceiling, round the corner, into the stratosphere, and fall back down to earth. How many people died yearly from experimental drug testing? She didn't want to know. She didn't want to give her mind more ammunition. As long as she wasn't going to lose all her teeth or wake up the next day with cockroach appendages, she was fine. Hell, she'd help Big Sam conduct radioactive tests if the pay was good.

And besides, the doctor who'd presented her with the form the previous week hadn't sounded sinister. A slender Irishman, he'd said, "It's an experimental drug. Basically an aphrodisiac with more sophistication. They've been tested on many animal subjects and just a few human volunteers. The results have been satisfactory, but not unanimously. Our mission now is to have a level result over the board. To be honest we're only trying to convince some higher-ups." He'd said this last part with a shrug and a wry grin.

"What are the effects?" she'd asked. But already she was hooked in. Not because of the aphrodisiac thingy (her sex life was okay), but because they were going to pay three hundred bucks.

The doctor had given her a pamphlet. "A lot will depend on you. You will experience elevated levels of sexual arousal. The brain has a region--the hypothalamus--which has a pleasure centre that can be stimulated. Now, with this drug, you will experience greater stimulation of your pleasure centre. The first prototype of this drug was produced on a limited basis as a therapeutic aid for women with reduced sexual function as a result of neurological disturbances. However, we have not finished detailing its full effect on normal, healthy people as required. This is where you come in, Sonia. You will be given two doses and we'll catalogue the range of your body's responses over time."

So, Sonia read the pamphlet and signed up some forms and agreements there and then. A week later she was at the clinic at the appointed time, waiting in a white room for a nurse. The nurse came in moments later with a pamphlet and a tray containing two plastic cups. One held water; another held a green pill.

Sonia took the pamphlet; she'd already had five of those. The pill went down easily with a slightly lemony aftertaste. Then she left the clinic with her cheque.

The first few days, Sonia noticed nothing. Well, she did feel more inclined to stay in bed much longer but this could be because of her exhaustive work as a paralegal. But at least things were good. The three hundred bucks had gone a long way.

When she went for the first check-in, the doctor gazed at her charts, stroked his beard, and nodded meaningfully. "So far, so good," he said.

Things weren't so good that night when Sonia got into bed and realised that she hadn't felt a tingle down there in a while. Not even when she climbed into bed and tucked herself in.

Getting into bed was how Sonia had found herself, in a manner of speaking. This was ten years ago when she was still a thin blonde and had just left her sleepy hometown to make it big in a big city. A chance encounter with the side of her pillow one fateful night had sent her into a bone-racking spasm.

Now she rubbed her fluffy pillow against herself and felt nothing.

Nada.

With a dawning sense of horror, she peeled off her clothes and went to the mirror. Inspected her shaven muff. Oddly enough she couldn't even feel her hands down there. It was like her whole crotch had gone numb.

Sonia had an uneasy sleep, taking solace in the words of the doctor. He'd said side effects wouldn't be severe and nor would they last long. As her alarm buzzed her awake, her hands flew straight to her panties, and she discovered, with a joyful exhalation, that her quim was back to normal.

Two days later she went for the second dose. The doctor listened to her account, nodded, and scribbled some things down in his notebook. She was sent on her way with another pamphlet.

That night Sonia scrubbed up real good, did her face, and shimmied into a strapless dress. Drinks with friends at the Barbican. It wasn't a bar for serious drinkers, just casuals. Sonia wasn't one for drinking anyways, but she did like a good fuck now and then. And the Barbican was her haunt, so to speak.

A couple of friends from work were at the bar. There was Cho who dwelled in the office across from her, Louisa the IT woman, and Tanner, the partner's secretary.

Twenty minutes in and Sonia thought it was a dour crowd. Cho was most certainly gay and didn't raise his head from whoever he was texting, Louisa rattled nonstop about one thing or the other, while that stuck-up bitch Tanner twisted her body on the dance floor like a snake.

Sonia zoned out Louisa and carried her drink to the bar. She had another filling of her glass.

"You look like you could use some company."

Sonia didn't reply. She had long decided she'd head home after one last glass. But the man slid onto the stool next to her. A glance in the mirror told her he wasn't too bad. Clean shaven. Good teeth. Probably early thirties, wearing a nicely cut grey suit. His spectacles sat well on his face, the thin lenses catching every light. His watch glittered and looked horribly heavy.

He looked alright, but he wasn't quite Sonia's type.

"I'm Levy by the way. Nathan Levy."

Sonia bit down a snort. He probably thought that sounded cool too.

Nathan chuckled. "I see you're the quiet type. I can live with that." He called for a Heineken and a refill of Sonia's glass.

Nathan settled himself on the stool. "Well, I'm in business. Freight management. Import and export mostly. It's quite hectic if you ask me. I mean it pays well, but it can be backbreaking, you know. Anyways a real bull lands on my desk this morning, you know. A shipment of sesame seeds from some third-world African country. Now this doesn't flash red lights at first glance, but I open the next page of the folder and the shipper has been sanctioned by our own dear U. S. of A. Now the feds say we must not do business with this shipper because he has ties to a maniacal head of state of some country that should by all right be called Loonymalia. I mean, these guys have had seven coup d'état in three years. And you know... "

Sonia raised her glass, the ice danced and sang. Her brain felt like it was been pummelled. The man was still talking. She felt certain he had moved on to another anecdote, but she couldn't replay a word he'd said.

She laid a hand on his thigh. He froze, swallowed.

"Your car," she said.

Sonia wasn't a beautiful woman, but she could look like one when she wanted to. And maybe it was the August heat and the alcohol but she felt a stirring down her crotch. Her voice was husky and she could feel a layer of sweat on her forehead and between her cleavage.

Nathan couldn't take his eyes off her. He stood up like a man on a mission and held out his hands. Together they walked out into the cool of the night.

The cool air bit into Sonia's skin. Felt like she could feel every nerve ending in her body. Nathan's hand was on her wrist, and an overwhelming sense of sexual arousal flew through her veins. His car was a silver SUV, and inside it smelt of aftershave, as if after applying it to his body he dumped the remnants on the upholstery. He opened the door for her.

Sonia had so much blood rushing through her head that she had trouble hearing. She had so much excitement running through her body she had to release it somehow. Nathan opened his side of the door and climbed in. He looked slightly flushed.

Sonia conducted a brief argument in her head; it lasted all of a nanosecond. Then she caught Nathan by the hair, climbed into his lap, and caught his lips in hers.

They kissed noisily, messily. Sonia didn't care what they did, didn't care they were in public view. There were lots of vehicle passing, and as she opened her eyes, she saw, from the back glass, a man stealing glances at them as he got into his car.

Nathan moaned in her mouth, and his hands found their way to her ass. He rolled her dress up, bunching it around her waist. He held her ass in both hands, kneading. Sonia rolled her hips at his ministrations. She almost screamed when his fingers touched her slit.

Nathan broke their kiss and held his shiny fingers up. "Jesus! I can't believe how wet you are."

Sonia mumbled something. She was on fire. Nathan's hands felt just right on her skin like he was scratching an itch for her. They went back to mauling each other's tongues.

Nathan slid her panties to the side and proceeded to finger fuck her. He slid three fingers in, probing. Her pussy made squelching sounds that Sonia would have found embarrassing another day.

He drew his fingers out and ran them along the length of her slit. He began to stroke his fingers around, inside, outside, while his thumb circled her clitoris. Sonia whimpered as he did that. He probed at her clit, sliding his fingers on either side.

Sonia could feel some heat rising from the depths of her belly to her head and the rest of her body. She screamed as the first wave of orgasm jolted out of her, like tons of water breaking out of a damn. She felt something wet go down her thighs. She'd never squirted before. She held on to Nathan, who was twisting away from her.

Another wave followed, and then another. Jolts of electricity ran up her spine as slivers of satisfaction slid through her. She realised she had no control of her faculties. She couldn't even open her eyes.

Slowly, the rush subsided and she caught her breath.

"Are you okay?" Nathan asked, his face lined with worry. There were marks on his cheek where she had scratched him.

Sonia got off his lap, staring at his face. She brought her hands to her mouth. She was going to puke. "Oh God! I did that?"

Nathan winced as he checked his face in the mirror. He looked at her oddly. "Are you okay? I thought you were convulsing there for a while."

Sonia swallowed. She suddenly felt cold and lightheaded and famished. "I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean... I don't know what came over me."

"I mean, don't take this wrong. It was quite intense and all."

Sonia slid her panties in place, drew down her dress, took her bag, and let herself out. "Again, I'm really sorry. It's best if I just left."

Nathan spread his hands in outrage. "Hey! Come on. It's okay. I mean, I kinda liked it, you know." When Sonia wouldn't say a word, he added, "At least come take care of this," he pointed at the noticeable bulge in his crotch.

Sonia slammed the door shut. She stared at her fingers and suddenly felt like a criminal on some of the numerous cases she helped work on. Nathan Levy's DNA was underneath her fingers. Though she'd just had the greatest orgasm of her life, she hated what she'd opened her eyes to. What she'd done without knowing. What if she had strangled him? She snorted at herself. That was hardly possible, but still...

She wouldn't be taking any more experimental drugs: that much was clear.

The next day, a Saturday, Sonia lay in bed for most of the morning. She'd barely slept throughout the night. Had the doctor mentioned insomnia as a side effect? Her legs were rubbery as if she'd been hiking all day. Her pussy was tender and looked bleary-eyed.

She dove in and out of a few flimsy naps, awakening to muffled sounds next door. She soon discovered that what she was hearing was the sound of lovemaking. Sonia got out of bed and put her ear to the wall. Now she could hear them more clearly. April who had the flat next door had brought home a man and they were enthusiastically shagging.

Sonia sighed as she got out of her nightclothes. She felt tingly all again. She decided to head to the gym. Probably what she needed was a good old workout. Sweat out every strange chemical in her body. It had been eight days since she'd had the last dose of the experimental drug.

If there was a letterbox for customer reviews, Sonia reckoned she'll write: It works damn too well.

She took a shower, and took a quick look at her body just before she toweled off. She'd grown out of that disaster of freckles she'd had as a teenager. Her breasts were modest and already starting to lose the battle with gravity. Her areolas were pink, they looked flushed just like her face and neck.

Unconsciously she parted her legs, and rested her fingers on her slit. She could rub one out. Why not? Her vibrator was in the drawer next to the wardrobe. With a herculean effort, she turned away from the mirror and shrugged into her sports bra. Shorts and a long sleeve vest. She was good to go.

A few hours at the gym took the edge off her arousal. For the first time in hours, Sonia felt normal. A nice warm shower, a good meal, and a few hours of sleep, and the world would right itself.

She decided to take the jogger's path home. There were a few joggers about this evening. All in their pretty running shoes; all with earphones hooked in. The path skirted around the woods, and so, for a few minutes, one would be hidden by dense foliage.

For a few minutes, no jogger came through, and Sonia was left alone. The only sounds were her own feet and the occasional birdsong. Then a jogger burst from behind her, taking the left path. A young man, tall, mid-twenties, taking powerful strides. Sonia watched his thick calf muscles extend. His shirt was drenched and she could see his biceps, his powerful back.

And she was hot again. She stood for a while, trying to catch her breath. Her pussy was tingling with anticipation. She veered right into the woods.

I'm going mad, she thought.

I'm going to strip, she thought.

She undid the buttons of her vest, shrugged out of her bra, feeling the breeze on her nipples. She slid a hand into her shorts, felt her swollen lips beneath the cotton of her panties. She walked deeper into the woods, stroking herself. She was looking for a broken tree to sit on or a clearing while she frigged herself. With every step, her skin grew hotter, and she grew more horny.

She tried to convince herself not to do what she wanted to do, but she knew she'd do it.

Sonia came to a big fallen tree resting across a clearing. She looked around: there was no one. She laid her shorts against the rough stem and sat on it. She then slid her panties all the way to her knees.

She part her legs and settled a finger against her clit. She was soaking wet. She parted her legs wider and gasped as the cool wind met her thighs and lips.

She played her fingers up and down her lips, played with her thumb on her clitoris. That quivering morsel of flesh.

She held a branch breaking, and quick as a cat she was on her feet, heart racing. She looked around and there, at the edge of the clearing, a man was urinating against a tree trunk. A jogger. He had his back to her.

Sonia held her breath. Maybe if she was quiet he wouldn't turn around. He'd just leave.

The man turned. He walked towards her though it appeared he hadn't seen her, yet. His eyes were on the ground. His feet cracked twigs, ruffled leaves. Why hadn't she heard him the first time? Sonia was caught like a deer in headlights. She looked around for her clothes. Her bra was nowhere to be seen. Her vest was a few feet away. She could race for her clothes and risk detection or she could simply stand there and let the man leave unawares.

But the man looked up. And froze.

It was Nathan Levy.

Now that she could see him clearly in the light of day she saw he had a rugged edge to his looks. There was a couple of days stubble on his jaw, and his eyes were a stormy blue. His lips curled into a smile. His eyes raked up and down her body hungrily. "You're quite something aren't you?" He sat on a tree branch. "Coming out here for a frigging."

Sonia had a moment of indecision. Fuck it, she thought.

Holding Nathan's eyes, she sat back down and spread her legs wide open. She could imagine what he saw: the delicate ribcage, round breasts with hard, engorged nipples, her pussy pink and glistening.

She spread her lips further apart and smiled at Nathan. "Why don't you show me what you're working with? I do owe you a cum."

Nathan dropped his shorts and white briefs and held his hardening cock. It wasn't too big but it had nice girth. He sat back down and began to stroke himself.

Sonia imagined his cock in her mouth, his head hitting her throat, his girth filling her pussy, her pussy walls clinging to him. She moaned loudly.

She began to stroke her fingers up and down her pussy, sometimes sliding inside. Nathan stroked his cock into hardness. His hand began to bob up and down. His bulbous head peeked in and out of his grasp.

Sonia gasped and nodded. Her finger found the pea of her clit. She began to flick it faster and faster, her face screwed up in concentration. As she neared her orgasm, her mind went wild with images: she was sucking Nathan's fat cock, she was riding him, slapping her ass on his thighs, his large hands are all over her, her areolas in his mouth, with the occasional nibble.

She moaned as waves burst from her belly and all over her body. Her skin broke out in goosebumps. From somewhere deep inside her there was a clenching, and she came. A toe-curling, teeth-clenching cum.

It felt like she was being ripped apart. Wave after wave after wave. Her clit turned too sensitive. Her juices made a short-lived arc in the air before splashing all over her thighs. Nathan came too, his cum spurted up like a fountain then began to dribble down the length of his cock. Making guttural noises as he squeezed thick white cum out of his cock.

Sonia sat back, drenched in sweat. Her crotch was sticky and wet. She wore her shorts and went to get her vest. Clothed, she turned to Nathan who had returned his junk into his shorts. At his feet was a wide leaf with drops of cum on it. Sonia licked her lips, swallowed.

"That was fun," she said.

Nathan grinned. "Yeah? Look I--" But Sonia had already walked away.

When she got home, she took a shower and slept all through the next day.