The Little Red Pill Ch. 06

The treadmill's hum slowed and stopped. Stan hopped off the device and started to stretch. He'd run five miles like it was a walk to the mailbox. More amazingly, he'd barely noticed. His heart thumped at a mildly elevated rhythm, but otherwise he didn't feel any fatigue or soreness. He could run another five. Hell, he could run a marathon, but he had another goal in mind.

He went to the guest bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror. It was impossible to deny the physical changes at this point. His jawline had smoothed out. Muscle caused his once loose fitted shirt to cling to his body. His stomach had flattened, and his chest had lost its narrowness as his pectorals swelled. Stan didn't need to pull down his shorts and examine himself to know that some more progression had happened in his crotch as well. Getting dressed for running had demonstrated perfectly well that his genitals weren't the size they once were. It struck him as odd that so many men would dream of an enlarged dick because so far it had only presented problems. His balls were too big to fit comfortably between his muscular legs. His dick was too large and frustratingly half erect to do anything with other than shove down the right side of his shorts. Running might not tire him like it used to, but that wasn't stopping friction from rubbing his cock half numb.

All that aside, Stan was pleased by what he saw in the mirror. Not the changes, but the results of his most recent run. Dark sweat stains covered the front and armpits of his shirt. He probably reeked of it. If Julie really could smell him, then this might knock her out. Stan wasn't sure why he was so skeptical about his wife's new superpower. Being able to smell whether or not a woman was aroused by simply being in the same room wasn't any more outlandish than watching Julie's breasts grow over three days or his own cock and balls suddenly appear to have a glandular disorder. But it was a bridge too far for Stan. If he accepted what Erica had so casually mentioned, then they had become involved in something much more complicated than a fertility drug. Wasn't it an invasion? To know how other people felt when they looked at you? It had already complicated things with Theo. How many of their other friends would want to fuck Julie? Or him?

Stan left the bathroom, eager to find his wife. After Erica left, Stan decided to go for a run. Julie had pouted for a while since she wanted them to get back into bed. Once that passed, she started cleaning the house with the same compulsion that drove Stan to exercise. Stan found her in their bedroom with half their closet pulled out. Several large piles of clothes and shoes had developed. Julie stood in the middle of it all wearing a tight fitting t-shirt that hugged her swollen breasts and a pair of cloth shorts that did little more than give a splash of color to her figure. As he entered the room, Julie's eyes locked onto his before drifting down his body to stare at his crotch with near unnerving hunger.

"How's this going?" he asked.

"We have a lot of stuff. Old stuff. I've found a few things that fit me, though. Look. These are from college." She turned around and bent slightly to show off the pair of light blue shorts. "They fit better than they did back then. But mostly it's your old jeans. There's a chronology of our weight gain here. I'm slowly unearthing the old us. Sort of glad we kept it all. Here, put these on." She snatched up a pair of jeans and tossed them to her husband.

Stan held them up to look at them. "Holy shit. I remember buying these. Senior year of high school. I wanted to look, I dunno, hip or something before I went off to college. So I had...a friend go with me and help me pick stuff out. These are the one thing that I thought looked good."

"Was the rest trendy crap you hated that you only bought because some ditz picked out for you?" Julie asked. "Who was it? Samantha?"

"I didn't know you kept track of my ex-girlfriends," he said with a smirk as he started to undress. "But yeah, it was Sam. She lasted about two weeks after that shopping trip, I think. Not sure I wore any of the shit that she picked out for me, but these jeans, these I wore almost every day." He shucked off his shorts and paused to once again adjust himself. The outline of his dick was entirely visible, and Julie made no effort to hide that she was watching it. Why would she? If she were dancing around in her panties, Stan would be watching her in much the same way. He snapped the jeans out to make them straighter, then started to pull them on. His lower legs went in easily enough, but his thighs posed a small problem. "Might have gone a bit too far in the other direction for these," he said.

"Go on. They'll fit," Julie insisted.

Stan pulled and hopped as the jeans slid over his muscular thighs. He had to struggle to get them over his butt, something he'd never even thought of as a problem for men in his entire life. Finally, he had to do something about the bulge. His hand squeezed into the front of the jeans, pushing his balls down between his legs and straighting out his cock down the right pant leg. He'd never wanted to just be soft before, but that would have helped tremendously. Maybe the jeans would constrict blood flow enough to cause his dick to finally go back to its old droopy self. The waist of the jeans had no issues though. It was even a bit loose. He fastened the button and then held out his hands in a "ta-da" motion.

Julie suppressed a giggle. "Can you move around in them? What about squat?"

Stan took a few lunging steps, then bent his knees to sink down into a low squat. The jeans resisted, but still allowed him to move. Cold air flowed over his lower back as the waist dipped below his ass crack. "Belt might help," he said as he stood back up. He turned around, and Julie had crossed the room. Her lips met his in a kiss as her hands wrapped around his back. She inhaled deeply and started to pull off his shirt. Stan helped, peeling off the sweaty cloth and tossing it away. Julie kissed and licked at his skin, her mouth moving over to his hard nipple and nibbling it playfully. Her body pushed his back until he toppled over onto the bed. She straddled him immediately.

As she bent over him to draw his lips into another kiss, Stan thought he smelled something pleasant. The familiar taste of her mouth distracted him for a moment before he realized that the taste and the smell were the same. His arms came up to hold her in place. His fingers intertwined with her hair as he held her in the kiss, tongues battling in their shared mouths. It was a taste and scent that he'd known for years, but he'd never really paid attention to it before. Warm, earthy, and inviting, it wasn't just her mouth, but Julie's whole body. He broke off the kiss and moved his mouth down to her neck, licking and kissing anything he could reach. Every inch of her was the same beautiful, alluring sensation. Was this what she could smell on him? Now that he recognized it, how could he have not noticed it on her all this time? Concentrating, he knew the scent grew stronger where she'd sweat, but near maddening from between her legs.

Julie sat up and pushed hard on his chest, forcing him to remain flat on his back. She scooted down to his thighs and went to work unfastening his pants. His cock strained to be free. As she brought Stan's attention to it, that strain grew into outright pain. His dick was squashed in his pants, and his balls were desperate for some breathing room. His hands went to the sides of the jeans, intending to wriggled out of them, but Julie stopped him. "No, no, no. I'm going to keep you in these. I'm going to fuck you while you wear the old denim that your high school girlfriend didn't like."

Stan was skeptical of his ability to do anything while wearing the jeans, but Julie's hands were hard at work. She unbuttoned and unzipped them, prying apart the fly as wide as it could go. Her hand snaked into his boxers, but the waistband was too high. Her fingers briefly grazed the root of his cock, and Stan grunted. She abandoned that route and went in through the Y-flap in his boxers. Grabbing hold of his cock, she pulled up, quite hard. Stan started to yelp, but then his dick sprang free, the head of it glistening with precum. It looked odd to see it standing out so isolated from the rest of him on a backdrop of denim.

Julie hopped off her husband long enough to wriggle out of her own shorts. She didn't bother pulling off her top, but didn't get on his cock right away. Instead, she settled herself back on the denim pants, letting her ass grind against his legs as she stroked his cock with both hands. "When you used to wear these jeans, did you ever imagine having someone like me to fuck every day? Did you ever think you'd get married and have a wife grinding her pussy on them? Getting them wet with her juices while she moved her hands up and down your cock. Nah-ah, don't cum. You have to cum inside me every once in a while, silly. That's how you breed me, you know. Though it would be fun to see your cum squirting all over my stomach and down onto your old pants."

Her words were not something Julie would have ever dared to say before they started taking the pill, but it was clear from the lust in her voice and the adoration in her eyes that she'd wanted to say such things for a very long time. Stan understood. So much of what they'd done together over the past few days had seemed alien at first, but once they did it, they both knew it had been a long suppressed urge that they'd simply forgotten existed. His hands moved up to her thighs, stroking them as she raised up and positioned his cock at her pussy lips.

She lowered herself onto him. No fumbling or half strokes to get him wet. Her own arousal mingled with his precum to cover the full length of his cock as she pushed down on it. Stan felt a slight pinch and shifted his legs to give his balls more room, but they remained confined inside the jeans. Julie showed no interest in taking the pants off. Quite the opposite. She was soaked by the idea of fucking him in the tight fitted pants. Stan could sympathize, of course. He'd wanted to fuck her in those little snug shorts. They both groaned as the bulk of his cock pushed inside of her. She hunched forward and kissed him again, that warm taste and scent washing over him. His hands moved around to her ass and squeezed, pulling at the pliable flesh.

Julie's hips started to rock in slow, short movements followed by long, fast strokes. Her eyes shut in concentration, but Stan kept his open to watch his wife's face contort in pleasure. His eyes moved down to her hips, enjoying the crease where her thigh met her stomach. Gently, he pulled at her shirt, raising it inch by inch until her breasts fell into view. She opened her eyes long enough to meet his gaze. She smiled right before her mouth formed a small O. Her hips slammed forward hard. Her walls spasmed, clenching tight around Stan's cock. It surprised him, but the tightness and the intimacy of looking deep into her eyes as she orgasmed sent him over the edge as well. His hands moved to her ass again, holding her in place as he pumped cum into her, groaning all the while.

Their fervor passed. They relaxed, Julie keeping him inside of her as she sat upright and pulled down her shirt. "Well, we'll have to wash them now. Let's hope they don't shrink."

***

It took quite a bit of effort to get the jeans off. Eventually, Julie had Stan lie back down and pulled them off from the bottom. He didn't bother to put his shorts back on, wanting to give his balls time to breathe. Julie shooed him out of the bedroom and returned to her cleaning.

So, there is something to this scent thing, he thought. Julie's smell was certainly arousing, but that could simply be a conditional response. He only really smelled her like that when they were kissing, and that was only when they were on the brink of fucking. Still, it did sort of intoxicate him. He could tell that his blood ran quicker, and his thoughts turned more lurid. She definitely seemed to respond to him as well. She'd outright licked sweat off his chest.

He grabbed his laptop and sat down at the kitchen table. For the dozenth time, he ran a search on the little red pills. The page populated with different articles from medical journals. He'd read the abstract on a few of them, but those weren't very informative. A few others indicated something more interesting, but paywalls blocked him from going any further. Going back to the search, he typed in the drug name and added the word "scent." Three results returned.

Two were from the paywalled websites. The first didn't have an abstract at all, but the second did. "Of the thirty participants in the study, twenty-eight demonstrated no substantial change in androstenone secretion levels. One participant demonstrated a mild elevation in androstenone levels. One participant demonstrated a substantial elevation. Results indicate that while ferrosyfetalin may play a part in the development of androstenone emission levels, the effect is not universal."

Frowning, Stan opened a new tab and typed in the word "androstenone". His eyes scanned the page, and his frown deepened. So it's a pheromone found in lots of animals, including humans, but humans lack the receptive system for it to work. Unless... Another few keystrokes searched for the drug and "vomeronasal organ". Dozens of results. He clicked the first to have an abstract.

"...patients on placebo returned negative brain activity in target regions when exposed to test samples. Patients on ferrosyfetalin demonstrated increased brain activity in the target sensory region as well as increased verbal reports attraction and physiological cues of arousal. Results suggest that ferrosyfetalin could cause activation of latent nerve networks and function of the vomeronasal organ in humans."

Stan rubbed his temples. The screen made his eyes hurt. Or maybe it was the reading. He'd never been very good at science, mainly because long words with no clear meaning went a bit blurry in his head. Still, he'd been able to discern some ideas from reading the different abstracts. In some people, the drug woke up a vestigial system of scent based sexual attraction. Rarely, though. Having it happen to both him and Julie must have been one in a million.

He closed the different tabs until he got back to his original search. Before he x'ed out, he read the top line of the third result. It wasn't a medical journal at all, but a message board. Curious, he clicked on it.

The site was clearly some place for whacko conspiracy theories. The ads on the side of the page for questionable talk radio and Youtube personalities confirmed that pretty quickly. Before reading the post about ferrosyfetalin, he glanced down at the reply comments. All of them used poor grammar to convey general agreement, most quickly diverging into their own pet theory about things in the water, chemtrails, and secret government drones. In contrast, the original post had excellent formatting and grammar, clearly written by someone who knew basic tenants of communication.

"I've been silenced. The people at the pharmaceutical companies will not allow my story to get out. Ferrosyfetalin ruined my life. It is easy to dismiss my story because of how ridiculous it sounds. It is easy to dismiss because if it is accepted as true then it challenges our entire concept of relationships. My wife and I were given the drug to aide in conception. That was the intent, and, I suppose, on that front it was a success. My wife certainly conceived. Three times now. I, on the other hand, have fathered none of them.

"I won't go into the exact details of how it all happened. The short of it is that the longer we took the drug, the more repulsive she found me. She said I smelled like a rotting carcass. Yet, she refused to stop the medication. It had already started changing her. She lost weight. Her breasts filled out. Who would complain about that type of change? Why would she want to stop taking a drug that was making her gorgeous?

"It did something else to me. I'm impotent now, mostly. My body has withered. I can barely keep on weight. The doctors say I am healthy if likely depressed. And why wouldn't I be? After my wife left me for her coworker, that is. You see, that's what happened. He didn't smell like rot. He apparently smelled wonderful, which is what she told me when I came into the bedroom to find them copulating like animals on my bed. She'd been giving him the drug, too. They'd been going at it at work constantly, so why not bring it home.

"I didn't leave. I couldn't for some reason. All the external factors aside, I couldn't do anything that her coworker didn't want me to. They make me watch. Sometimes, he orders me to lick his cum out of her. I do it. I hate myself, but I do it. Because that's the only thing that can get me hard any more. Then I'm left to jerk off in a corner while they laugh at me. This is what ferrosyfetalin has done to me.

"Of course, that won't get reported in all their studies. My wife told me to stay home. She took her new stud with her to the doctors appointments. They explained why the participants in the study had changed. The doctors weren't happy, but they couldn't be too upset with the result. Eventually they came round to check on me, but I couldn't do anything other than give a happy report of marital bliss. Because I wanted to. I want to protect my wife and her new stud. That's what's right, after all. I'm too far gone. Others need to know though."

Stan stopped reading. The account made him angry. Weak little shit. Lets his wife get stolen from him. If I found Julie with another man, I'd break his neck. No wonder this little schmuck's wife wanted to let a real man fuck her. He shut the laptop as the anger washed through him. Hang on. Why am I angry at him? If his story is true, then the drug essentially cuckholded him. Or maybe it just woke up something in his wife that had been there all along. Even Julie and I had to do the therapy stuff to make sure we weren't trying for a baby just to hide the fact that we'd started hating one another. He closed the computer and shoved it away from him. Stan knew he wasn't acting rationally and that the drug was likely to blame. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something about the man had been weak. If the story was true, then Stan couldn't dismiss the idea that the man deserved what happened to him.

He went to the cabinets and pulled out some of the junk food Julie had bought for them. They hadn't had a gorging session during the previous night, but he was starting to feel the rumble of that insatiable hunger again. The next pill would likely push him over the edge into ravenous. Is this something I should tell Julie? The thought jumped into his mind, causing a shameful feeling to go through him. He didn't want to hide anything from his wife, especially something concerning their health. What would he even tell her? That the drug they'd both decided to take might be waking up a discarded relic of evolution that could possibly turn them into spiteful sex freaks? That possibility had already been stared in the face and accepted, why bring it up again? Stan also had the distinct impression that Julie wouldn't care. Much in the same way he'd felt contempt for the man in the story, he expected his wife to empathize fully with the woman. Even if it meant cheating on her husband. He wasn't the right husband for her, of course, and it would only make sense to correct that error.

Stan put down the half empty tray of cookies. His head throbbed. Thinking was taking a lot of work. Running helped clear his head. Julie's scent helped him keep focus. Reading about drug interactions was neither of those things. He went to the living room and sat down on the couch. He shut his eyes to help quell the ache in them. Then, he drifted off to sleep.