The Little Red Pill Ch. 02

Morning of Day One - Julie

Julie felt great. Better than she had in years. In fact, she didn't know if she'd ever felt like this at all. She assumed that she probably felt better day to day as a teenager, but didn't know any better at the time. She didn't even realize how bad she had been feeling until after taking the pill. The general fatigue, the clogged sinuses, the slight ache to everything that had started around twenty-eight — all of it gone, like an invisible weight taken away. And she smiled for it. Standing in the garden, grinning at her flowers in the sun like a half mad woman.

Of course, she hadn't really noticed until after the morning's time with Stan. That thought made her a little uncomfortable and the smile drooped slightly as she went to work digging roots out of a clod of dirt. She'd woken up unable to think of anything other than sucking her husband's dick. Well, not anything. She could still think, but the idea intruded on her constantly. Busying herself hadn't helped at all. The second she stopped focusing on whatever menial task she set herself, the idea of Stan's dick in her mouth popped right back into her head. Her lips wrapping around the head, his body tensed and eager under her touch, moving in the perfect motion up and down while working her tongue along the length until that —.

Julie's skin was warm. She lied to herself and said it was the sun. But it was hard to deny the feeling between her legs or her watering mouth. Wasn't that the point though? The pill was meant to light a fire on their reproductive drives and it was certainly succeeding in doing that. But something about the way it just grabbed control of her entire body made Julie resent it. Sure Stan likes the idea of waking up to a blowjob this morning, but how far does that go. What if the pills turned her into a cum drunk slut by the end of the week? Starting a family together was supposed to be a mutual decision of love. Not just wild fucking day in and day out. So, no, even if she did want to rip off her shorts and go pin her husband to the kitchen table, Julie resolved herself to maintaining some level of decorum.

The patio door opened and Stan stepped outside. He wore a decade old Metallica t-shirt for a concert that he never went to. Stan had a way of attracting t-shirts only somewhat offset by Julie's tendency to appropriate them for herself. He held up a power drill and buzzed it. "Where's the pot?"

Julie pointed at the worktable under the eave. "You need to use water to keep the drill bit cool, remember?"

He waved his hand dismissively as he picked up the ceramic and positioned it on the workbench. After some fiddling he had everything the way he wanted, then stopped with a long sigh. He put down the drill and went inside, returning with a glass of water that he poured over the base of the upturned pot. Then, he set to work drilling. His arm flexed while he applied the pressure to the drill and in turn his right side tensed as well. In shorts, Julie could see his legs strain and his nearly flat butt tense as he tried to hold everything in place. She cursed under her breath and wished her hands were clean so she could touch herself.

"Ah, fuck," Stan said as the drill bit broke through. He wiped away the water and dust. "No, we're good. Worked just like I meant it to. All in the wrist, they say." He brought the pot over to her with a wide grin on his face. "That the last thing?"

No, I want to suck your dick again. "Yeah, until I think of something else." Stan had been unusually productive in helping her that morning. He'd dug out the flowerbed that they'd been ignoring for months, trimmed back the hedges, cleaned off the patio and the grill, and a half dozen other chores that Julie had pointed out while she weeded and replanted. Clearly the pill had made him feel a little better as well. "I'm making us salad for lunch, but I still have a little to do first."

"Just salad?" he asked. "I'm craving...something. Meatier."

Julie turned away from him as the thoughts intruded once again. I'm like a horny teenager for pity's sake. "We're having tenderloin for dinner. That's all the meat you need for today."

"Can we put some of those ham bits in the salad? I'm seriously craving it. Stomach growling kind of craving it. Rabbit food won't cut it."

"Fine, you can have ham and bacon in your salad. Satisfied?"

"Oh, you can satisfy me any time," he said, leaning down and kissing her on top of the head. It took every ounce of her will to stop from turning around, yanking his shorts off, and sucking him into her mouth. Maybe another cold shower would help.

"After lunch, I might run up to the hardware store," she said. "I'm low on potting soil."

"I can do that if —"

"No, no. You enjoy your time off. I want to get out of the house a little bit, I think. You know, before those 'flu symptoms' set in." She said it with a wink, hoping he would take the hint and drag her inside to fuck her brains out. No. Come on Julie. Stan had his hands on his hips and she could see the outline of his cock in his shorts. He wore those shorts all the time, how had she not noticed before. Or maybe it wasn't like that before. Maybe he was half hard and waiting. JULIE! Control yourself.

"I might go for a run," Stan said. "After lunch, I mean. Have a weird amount of energy. Not sure I can just sit around. Little exercise should work it out. Then maybe a nap. Somehow I'm energetic and tired at the same time. That doesn't make sense does it?"

Julie just shrugged and he walked back inside. She let out a long breath and tried to focus on the plant in her hands.

***

Lunch and the trip to the hardware store went by without incident. It became much easier to focus on things other than sex when Stan wasn't around. The further she got away from all things Stan, the clearer her head felt. She wasn't sure if it was the drugs or just her old fashioned attraction to her goofy husband. Indulging in the freedom from her rampant sex drive, she wandered to the least sexual place she could find, the plumbing section where the various models of toilets were on display. A few deep breaths cleared away the rest of her pent up sexual energy and let her enjoy browsing the garden center before hoisting a bag of soil on her shoulder and heading back to her car.

Then it started to creep back in. Where would he be when she got home? Would he be back from his nap, waiting on the couch all sweaty and hot? Maybe he'd have taken his shirt off during the run. Stan would never display his pale, flabby middle-aged torso outside and rarely enough inside, but that didn't make the fantasy any less possible to Julie. She'd wondered while they ate lunch together if he was having the same urges that she was, but he didn't seem unusual in anything other than his appetite. He'd eaten his salad in a frenzy and then made himself a sandwich while she nagged at him about sodium. Maybe, as a man, he was just more accustomed to dealing with a higher sex drive. Before work took all his energy, he'd been quite the amorous partner.

Julie put the car in the garage and lugged out the soil, dropping it in a corner where she kept her gardening supplies. She paused a moment and smoothed out her clothes. Briefly, the wild thought of stripping to the waist entered her mind. She could stride into the living room with her breasts pushed out and crawl onto Stan's lap, shoving them in his face. If that doesn't get him to notice how fucking horny I am, I don't know what will. Again, though, she pushed the idea aside.

None of it mattered though. Stan wasn't back from his run yet. She checked every room of the house while calling his name. His absence left her crestfallen, but a new idea came to her. That morning, she hadn't thought much beyond getting Stan's cock in her mouth, but now she wanted something inside her just to stave off the feeling for a while. She went to the master bedroom closet and started digging through the piles of boxes, quilts, and bags at the back. She muttered to herself while she looked and yelped with excitement when she spotted the striped bag she was looking for. Carrying it back to the bedroom as though it were an illicit jewel, she called out for Stan once again, no answer coming, and then opened the bag.

Inside were a variety of sex toys from what seemed like a different life to her now. A few frilly nighties shoved off to one end, a pair of handcuffs with a broken lock, a bottle of lube, a rubber ring that Stan had worn once when she dared him, and the bounty she had been looking for, four dildos. She brought the out and laid them on the bed one at a time. The first was a short purple colored vibrator that felt light without batteries. The second was a larger personal massager that had its cord still wrapped around it. The third was another handheld vibrator with a small clit stimulator on it. And the fourth was a gag party favor given to her at a bachelorette party, a silicone cock and balls with a suction cup on one end. The bride-to-be had gotten drunk enough to stick one on the wall of a bathroom and mime fucking herself while moaning her fiance's name into a video call. Julie had been mortified at the time, but now found herself wondering if Stan had taken his phone with him.

With the four dildos laid out, she eliminated the battery users immediately, shoving them back in the bag and making a mental note to find batteries later. With the choice being between the massager and the other, she gravitated toward the one that actually looked like a dick. She realized that she didn't want to just get off, she wanted to get properly fucked by something. Biting her lip, she tucked the massager away and shoved the bag under the bed. The dildo came with her into the bathroom where she thoroughly washed it, all the while muttering to herself about being an idiot. A few times she stopped and strained her ears for the sound of Stan moving around in the house. He'd never seen her use a dildo and she had no intention of changing that today.

It'd become one of her rules at some point and she couldn't remember exactly why. Maybe she read something about men getting a deep, psychological jealousy about seeing their partner pleasure themselves with something phallic. If they weren't into it, that was, and Julie had no reason to believe that Stan was into seeing her fuck herself with a plastic dick. With her cleaning done, she put the dildo under her shirt and went back into the bedroom. Before crawling into the bed, she unbuttoned the jeans she'd worn to the hardware store and stepped out of them. Her panties could easily be pulled to the side and the whole show could be hidden under the covers. If Stan came in, she could just shove the fake dick under her pillow until he left the room. She got into position with her heart thudding in her chest and her eyes fixed on the door. Her paranoia and anxiety aside, she was going half wild with need. As she pulled aside her panties, she noted how wet they were and wondered when she'd stopped noticing her own arousal.

Julie ran the plastic cockhead up and down her wet lips, coating the rubber in her arousal. Her free hand slid under her shirt and started to make small circles around her nipples. The sensations would cause her eyes to squeeze shut, but she forced them back open to keep an eye on the door. Applying a little pressure, she moaned as the wet dildo pushed against her opening. She spread her legs a little wider, giving herself a little more room to work. After a few seconds, the head of the dick slipped inside of her and she let out a guttural groan of pleasure. She didn't even need to slide it out as her pussy gushed with wetness, coating each inch of the thing as it slid inside her. Her leg muscles shook and her body clenched as little waves of pleasure radiated out from her core. She'd already had a pair of orgasms that day and somehow this one came even easier than those.

As the pleasure subsided, she knew it wasn't enough. She didn't want a hunk of plastic. She wanted Stan. She wanted to feel him throbbing inside of her. Wanted to feel the heat of his body pressing against her as his breath shortened and the small grunts of pleasure came unbidden from his lips. She wanted his eyes to flutter open for brief moments to look down at her heavy breasts and maybe even steal a glance down between their arching bodies to see his cock sliding into her pussy. As she fantasized, she worked the dildo in and out of her at a steady rhythm, the pleasure building up with strange rapidity once again. Her fingers flicked lightly over her exposed nipple. She imagined Stan's lips closing around the nub and circling it with his tongue, as milk squirted into his mouth.

What the fuck. As her thoughts jammed together in confusion, her body rocked with another orgasm. It took a full minute for her to recover. The dildo slid out of her with a wet slurp. What the hell was that about? Do I have some kind of fucked up mother fetish now? Jesus. Maybe we should stop these pills. Her eyes went to the dresser, sudden panic gripping her body. Were the pills gone? Would they actually not be able to take them? No, they remained where she'd left them the night before.

"Hon?" Stan called from the front door.

In a quick panic, Julie pulled up her panties, grimacing slightly as the cold wetness on them pressed against the warm wetness between her thighs. She pushed the dildo under the pillow and swung herself out of bed, grabbing a pair of shorts from nearby and slipping them on just as Stan entered the bedroom. She smiled at him, silently hoping nothing on her looked amiss. Her worry was enough to suppress her instant arousal at seeing Stan shirtless with a sheen of sweat. The t-shirt dangled in front of him, obscuring his lower half, but his chest looked different than she remembered. Still pale and with noticeable love handles, and yet also slimmer as though he'd miraculously lost five pounds since breakfast. "Oh, there you are," he said, a quaver of surprise in his voice. "Thought you might be out back. I, uh, got a little sweaty on my run. Just gonna hop back in the shower. Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she lied. "Just took a little catnap is all." She glanced at the clock. Two hours had passed since she got home. How was that possible? Had she been diddling herself the whole time? Trying to think back only resulted in a blur of pleasure. "I should go start diner." She brushed past him, almost floored by the scent of sweat. Julie wondered if he watched her walk past, leering at her butt before going to jerk off in the shower. No. I'm just scary horny.

Morning of Day One - Stan

Stan wanted to fuck his wife, again. Ten minutes earlier, she'd been eagerly sucking cum out of him like someone dying of thirst guzzling water from a fire hose. She'd scampered off to make them breakfast while he took a shower to wash away the residual of his first night on the pill. He vaguely remembered the first time waking up and being nearly unconscious while Julie forced him to drink water. He'd guzzled down another three glasses while the shower warmed up and he could probably drink another three. Makes sense, he thought. Body seems to be in overdrive for some reason. Doc warned us about getting dehydrated. Also makes sense for me to be fucking hungry. The horny part is a little weird though.

He looked down at his dick. He hadn't cum more than once in a day since he was a teenager, yet as he lathered soap across his torso, his cock stuck out stubbornly, bobbing with each of his movements. The bizarre pressure hadn't returned yet, though, which he thought was an improvement or at least a sign of things reaching a point of normalcy. Curious, he took his soapy hand and ran it up and down the length of his dick. Jerking off in the shower was usually fairly difficult and soap was surely not the best idea, but Stan didn't mind much as he started to slide his hand up and down his cock with ease. He leaned himself forward against the shower wall and started imagining Julie kneeling in front of him, her mouth open and her eyes hopeful. She had been so eager to have him cum in her mouth. That had never happened before. Getting her to give a blowjob was rare enough, and Stan didn't mind all that much as he'd never particularly enjoyed blowjobs compared to just having sex. But she fucking wanted it this morning. She wanted to feel my cock pushing her lips open. She wanted to run her tongue under my dick until I spurted thick cum down her throat.

Stan growled as his cum splattered out against the shower wall. A shudder later, he was watching it slowly ooze down with a mask of horror on his face. Julie could walk in at any moment and see what he'd done. Hell, his slightly wilting dick had a long glob of cum dangling from its tip like something out of bad porn. Maybe she'd get in the shower and clean it — "Jesus, Stan, get a grip." Embarrassed, he cleaned off the shower wall and himself.

***

Clean and somewhat clearheaded, he sat down at the kitchen table for breakfast. Julie seemed to be in her own world. The stove had an empty tray sitting on it with clear signs of cinnamon bun residue, but they were no where to be see, other than the few crumbs at the corner of Julie's mouth. Didn't seem to deter her appetite though, as she had a full plate of eggs, toast, and bacon set out for herself as well as Stan. His own ravenous appetite made everything else irrelevant. He kissed her on the cheek as she put his plate down and even gave her ass a light squeeze. Her face turned red and she seemed distressed as she sat down opposite him. The moment passed quickly though as they each turned their attention to the food.

Neither spoke a word as they made brutal work of their meals. In fact, as Stan's fork scrapped the last bit of jelly from the plate, he found himself wondering if he'd actually eaten anything or just imagined it altogether. Julie stared at her own plate with the same nonplussed look that she'd had when Stan arrived in the kitchen. Dehydration and low calories, he thought. So we're starving, need a ton of water, and our brains are barely registering it. Was that in the pamphlet? He was still hungry so he went and got another three slices of bread, smearing them with butter as Julie watched. An empty cinnamon bun package sat on the counter. "Sweetie, did you make cinnamon buns?"

Julie snapped out of her daydream. "What? No, I didn't."

He held up the empty cardboard. "What's this then? It's ok if you were hungry during the night or something. I think the pill might be fucking with our metabolism. Doctor warned us about stuff like that."

"I didn't make those," she said, firmly. "Didn't we have some last week. Maybe I made them then and just kept moving the empty box around. You know we're supposed to be eating better. I shouldn't even be buying stuff like that."

Rather than press the issue, Stan pushed a piece of toast in his mouth and carried the empty box to the trash bin. "I'm still starving," he muttered as he went over to the fridge. "I think I'll have some more eggs, do you want any?"

Julie was gnawing at her lower lip and her hand was visibly moving between her legs. As she noticed her husband, she snatched it away and abruptly stood up. "No, I'm gonna go change and get to work in the garden."

He watched her go, wishing she hadn't bothered to get dressed that morning. When they got the pill prescription, they'd joked about spending the whole week naked. Now that didn't seem like such a far fetched idea, though Stan didn't think he should start while standing in front of a hot stove. The eggs cracked and sizzled in the pan as he added seasoning and an unreasonable amount of cheese. Julie wouldn't know and it wasn't like he was secretly binge eating an entire platter of buns. He understood why she would feel embarrassed about it, but it was unlike her to outright refuse to admit something when he caught her as near to red handed as possible. It's the drug, just making us a little weird.