In Chapter 5 we learned that Sally was a virus that's attacking her brain. It's the virus that compels her to have sex, as it influences the part of her brain that controls one's sexual drive. Hers is on steroids, so to speak. Moreover, the virus is fatal as it eventually attacks the autonomic nervous system. She has one hope: an experimental drug Rivonine, currently in clinical trials and not yet approved for use by the FDA. It's the drug Genomeds is developing, and by good luck she has a date that very evening with Dr. Jack Taylor, the CEO of Genomeds.
***********************
My brain was in free fall for the rest of the day. I was 23 years old and fatally ill. Dr. Taylor's firm Genomeds had an experimental drug Rivonine. It was my only hope. Would he give me permission to take it? My life depended on it. Its side effects be damned!
I managed to pull myself together in time for my date with Jack. I realized in some sense my life depended on this date going well. Checking myself in the mirror one last time I looked at my breasts, harboring the evil virus trying to kill me. They looked fine and seductive enough for a breasts man. I looked at my legs, revealed to a large extent by my slightly short, tight pencil skirt. They looked good, too. My body's silhouette was all curvy and nice, just like a woman was supposed to look. Good.
My eyes were a wreck. One's date looks at one's body, sure, but most of the time he'll be looking at my eyes, and they were all bloodshot from so much crying. I went to the bathroom and flooded my eyes with eyedrops that "get the red out."
I looked again in the mirror. Better, even much better, but not good. Drops can't rid me of the puffiness the tears had wrought upon my eyes. Shit. The doorbell rang. I hate men who arrive on time. I went to get the door and forced a big smile. Jack looked debonair, even handsome. I realized how lucky I was to find him attractive, since I knew what I probably had to do to get the meds.
Lucky? How could I feel lucky? Dr. Green had told me earlier this very same day I had at most six months left to live. So, Jack was attractive. Big f**king deal. I was bleeping dying!
Okay, when I thought I had cancer and read all those testimonials, there was a recurring theme. Take things one day at a time. Live each day fully, as if it's your last good day. I had a handsome man standing there, and he had flowers. He gave me the flowers. I cut off the ends and put them in water, adding a little Sprite to the water, an old trick my mother had taught me.
My mother had taught me many things, all useful. One thing she had not taught me is to avoid older men. Why did I have this thing for older men? Was it older men or all men? After all, my husband at 33 was 'only' ten years older than me, and Miguel, Duane and Ravi were all in their thirties. That's only ten to fifteen years older than me, but what really got my motor running were men in their fifties, even their late fifties, maybe even their early sixties.
Was it a repressed urge to fuck my father? No, I don't think so. Well, I can think about this later. Right then I had Dr. Jack Taylor to worry about and his presence was making me wet. Is it really me, though, or is it the virus? Does it matter?
Dr. Taylor, sorry, I mean Jack, whisked me off to dinner. The man likes fancy restaurants and it looked very father-daughter-ish as we walked into the cute and little but very high-end Japanese restaurant deep inside SoHo. We sat next to each other and his hands were all over me, as I giggled. Anyone who originally thought I was his daughter now figured we were incestuous, or I was his mistress.
I wasn't his mistress, though, at least not yet. All we had done was to kiss. Given how excited parts of me below the Mason-Dixon line seemed to be, however, mistress status was my destiny. When he went to order the wine, Dr. Green's remarks bounced around in my head and I said no wine for me. "I have a virus. I saw my doctor today and alcohol is counter-indicated."
If I was going to let Jack seduce me, I wanted him to seduce the real me, and not the virus-infected slut locally known as Sliggins. I knew what alcohol did. Thinking back though to my recent outrageous behavior with the three men at the football party, I had really enjoyed it. I did not find it shaming at all, as I would have just a few months ago. I made a mental note to ask Dr. Green about that. Could the virus affect my outlook on sex, too? Does it affect the thinking parts of the brain? What a scary thought!
Dinner was great and it was with a serious effort that I resisted the temptation to drink wine. I rewarded myself with a Grand Marnier soufflé for dessert. I know that's a strange dessert to find in a Japanese restaurant, but if it bothers you, take it up with the chef, not with me, okay? I floated out of the restaurant, totally distracted from my angst by having this debonair, sexy man on my arm.
It was a nice fall evening and we went for a stroll about town. We walked all the way down to the battery, with me being a nervous chatterbox, and once there we gazed out over the ocean at Bedloe Island, renamed Liberty Island, where the Statue of Liberty sits. The cool ocean breezes chilled me and when Jack saw me shivering his arm went around me and warmed me up nicely.
Jack pulled me towards him gently, giving me plenty of chances to resist and hold back. I did not. When his lips met mine I shivered afresh, but this time not from the cold. His arm was around me holding me up against him, body against body, as our kiss morphed from sweet to sexy. His hand fell down to my ass and he gave it a little squeeze. I let out a barely audible little moan of pleasure.
Jack hailed a cab and we were whisked back to my apartment. He kissed me at my door. The moment of truth had arrived. What would I do? I wish I knew! In retrospect it was obvious this would happen.
"Would you like to come inside and see how the other 99% lives?" I said.
I offered Jack a drink and he took a Scotch whisky. He sat on my couch and I took the chair facing him. I knew if I sat next to him on the couch I'd be throwing myself at him. I was going to make him come to me.
We sat and talked for a while. Mostly I was the one who did the talking, until Jack interrupted me at one point.
"You seem nervous and anxious, Sally. Is something wrong?" he said.
I nodded. "It's not you, Jack. I just got some bad news today, I'm afraid."
"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked.
"Maybe later. If you want to help, you can distract me, okay?" I suggested.
"Do you find kissing distracting?" he said, with a sparkle in his eyes.
"If you're the man kissing me then yes, most definitely!" I said.
"Well, then," Jack said, rising from the couch, walking over to me, and pulling me up to a standing position. He kissed me. I kissed him back. I felt like it was a shampoo instruction: let him kiss me, kiss him back, rinse, repeat.
As we continued to kiss Jack's hands began to wander. I just continued kissing him. As far as I was concerned, his hands had free reign. After a bit, said hands had rendered me clothed in only a bra and panties. We continued to kiss, my moaning getting louder. Now I was clothed only in panties.
We continued to kiss and as my panties fell to my ankles, I stepped out of them. Jack picked me up and began to walk towards my bedroom. "No, Jack," I said. "Let's do it here, in my living room." Jack quickly disrobed. I gently grabbed his nice, hard member.
Jack enjoyed playing with my lovely breasts and tweaking my nipples. I was getting to keep them, and I liked that he was enjoying them. Suddenly he stopped and stepped back. "You have a tiny lump in your left breast, Sally."
I had forgotten that he was a medical doctor as well as a CEO. "I know. I saw Dr. Green today, up at New York Presbyterian." Then I burst into tears. How non-erotic can that be? My life depended on this man, and I was failing to seduce him!
"Breast cancer?" he asked.
"No, worse. I have some horrible virus. Jack, I only have six months left to live," I sobbed.
"You must be the woman Dr. Green called me about today!" Jack said. He took out his phone and sent a few texts. Twenty minutes later I was still naked but he had dressed. The doorbell rang and a man handed him a small bottle and checked out my naked body. I did not care. It's funny how having six months to live gives a girl a whole different perspective on life!
Jack handed me a vial of bright red pills in capsule format. "This is Rivonine. Genomeds has developed it precisely for the virus you have. It's suspected to work on a few other illnesses too, however. Dr. Green agreed to let me get you started. You take five pills today and every day for the first week. You should see Dr. Green on Friday at 2PM. Take them now," he said.
"I'll take them a little later, Jack. I don't want them to affect what I'm about to do," I said.
"What do you mean? What are you about to do?" Jack asked, puzzled.
I just smiled and walked my naked body, boobs swinging in front, over to him. I knelt before him like a peasant supplicant before a king, and I took off his pants and briefs. He was no longer hard. Well, I could fix that. I took his flaccid cock into my mouth and used all of my talents to change its state from flaccid to hard. I love doing that to a man. It makes me feel powerful.
I thought back to my intro physics class. There had been an emphasis on "phase transition." With water, it was water changing to steam, or liquid water changing to ice upon cooling. I would have loved to tell the professor about this new example: Changing a penis from flaccid to hard due to a naked blowjob. This was an example of phase transition a freshman could relate to!
I lay down on the floor and spread my legs. I played with my nipples and looked at him. I blew him air kisses. I pushed my pelvis in the air and let it fall. I repeated. Finally, he took the hint and knelt down over me. "Are you sure, Sally?" he asked.
"I'm certain," I said, and I reached around him and pulled him down on top of me. He fell perfectly into place. His now hard cock was resting at my entrance. "You'll have to do the rest, Jack," he said.
He did. It wasn't the best; he could not equal, let alone surpass the magnificent Ravi, but it was wonderful nevertheless. I loved it, and I was not shy about showing it. I had forgotten all about the condoms. I had 24 of them in my purse, too. Well, I was sure Dr. Jack Taylor was disease free. It's not as if he goes around fucking random 23-year-old women he meets at parties, right? Hmmm.
I didn't cum, but I loved every second of the fuck. Looking up at his mature face and knowing that this man who had seen so much in his lifetime, who was so rich, so powerful, and so accomplished, wanted to spend the evening with someone as insignificant as me, and even to fuck me, too, was simply thrilling.
"Is this why we drank the champagne, Jack?" I asked. I was idly stroking his chest as we lay on the floor in post coital peace.
"No, that was to celebrate the success of Rivonine," he said.
"Is it going to get FDA approval?" I asked.
"I don't know. It has powerful side effects as you're about to find out. The FDA will have to make a judgement call. The celebration is that it works. It works on the virus you have. It gives a cure 80% of the time!" He was clearly highly excited about his success.
I wanted to be happy for Jack. I did. I really did. But I was facing death. "What happens with the 20%?" I asked.
Jack looked at me. He realized his mistake. This was no longer statistics. This was a real, breathing woman facing certain death unless his drug worked. Not only was I a living, breathing woman, but I was a woman he had just fucked, and if I had anything to say about it, he was going to fuck me again!
"I don't have champagne, but I have some Scotch whiskey? It's 18 years old. I like that it's old, carefully aged, and yet it's younger than I am," I said.
"Thanks, Sally. That'd be nice," Jack said.
"I poured us each a glass. "I thought you were off alcohol?" Jack asked.
"I wanted the virus not to be the reason I fucked you, Jack. Now with the Scotch, you'd best fasten your seat belt. Want some Viagra?" I asked. I used the smooth Scotch whiskey to wash down the five Rivonine capsules.
I'm not a religious person. My parents gave me a religious education when I was little, so I knew some prayers by heart. I was like that; once I learned something, I never forgot it. As I swallowed the Rivonine capsules I said a small prayer, hoping they worked. Then I went to work on Dr. Jack Taylor himself.
I figured Jack Taylor enjoyed fucking lots of young women. I was his babe of the week. If that was the case I was okay with that, but I wanted more. I wanted babe of the month status. If I lived long enough, I wanted to be his babe of the year.
I knew that he knew that I was soon to become a horrible slut, fucking every Tom, Dick and Harry I came across, due to the Rivonine and the virus. Could he handle having a slut as his babe of the week, babe of the month, or babe of the year? He had to know what he was getting. He of all people knew the effects of the virus combined with the drug.
Time would tell if he could handle it. My money was on no, but I was not that good at betting. Maybe I'd be wrong. I hoped so. I wondered how long it took for the Rivonine effects to kick in? A day? A few days? A week? How much time did I have left to feel normal sexual urges? Well, my sexual urges were already not normal. According to Dr. Green, the virus had made me a slut. The virus combined with Rivonine would make me a slut on steroids! Would I even be able to tell the difference?
I learned right away. The time for the effect to take hold was around ten minutes. It was not subtle, either. Suddenly I needed a man inside me and I needed it now! I looked at Dr. Taylor the way a hungry lion might look at a lamb. I'm not saying Dr. Taylor was prey like a lamb. No, he was no lamb! What I'm saying is that I had a lion's hunger for sex, and Dr. Taylor was right there, in front of me.
I wore the poor guy out that night, I'm sure. I just could not get enough. The Rivonine suppressed the usual brakes all women have towards rampantly promiscuous behavior. There was no question in my mind: Rivonine combined with the virus affects a girl's brain. I was in trouble.
***************
***********************
My brain was in free fall for the rest of the day. I was 23 years old and fatally ill. Dr. Taylor's firm Genomeds had an experimental drug Rivonine. It was my only hope. Would he give me permission to take it? My life depended on it. Its side effects be damned!
I managed to pull myself together in time for my date with Jack. I realized in some sense my life depended on this date going well. Checking myself in the mirror one last time I looked at my breasts, harboring the evil virus trying to kill me. They looked fine and seductive enough for a breasts man. I looked at my legs, revealed to a large extent by my slightly short, tight pencil skirt. They looked good, too. My body's silhouette was all curvy and nice, just like a woman was supposed to look. Good.
My eyes were a wreck. One's date looks at one's body, sure, but most of the time he'll be looking at my eyes, and they were all bloodshot from so much crying. I went to the bathroom and flooded my eyes with eyedrops that "get the red out."
I looked again in the mirror. Better, even much better, but not good. Drops can't rid me of the puffiness the tears had wrought upon my eyes. Shit. The doorbell rang. I hate men who arrive on time. I went to get the door and forced a big smile. Jack looked debonair, even handsome. I realized how lucky I was to find him attractive, since I knew what I probably had to do to get the meds.
Lucky? How could I feel lucky? Dr. Green had told me earlier this very same day I had at most six months left to live. So, Jack was attractive. Big f**king deal. I was bleeping dying!
Okay, when I thought I had cancer and read all those testimonials, there was a recurring theme. Take things one day at a time. Live each day fully, as if it's your last good day. I had a handsome man standing there, and he had flowers. He gave me the flowers. I cut off the ends and put them in water, adding a little Sprite to the water, an old trick my mother had taught me.
My mother had taught me many things, all useful. One thing she had not taught me is to avoid older men. Why did I have this thing for older men? Was it older men or all men? After all, my husband at 33 was 'only' ten years older than me, and Miguel, Duane and Ravi were all in their thirties. That's only ten to fifteen years older than me, but what really got my motor running were men in their fifties, even their late fifties, maybe even their early sixties.
Was it a repressed urge to fuck my father? No, I don't think so. Well, I can think about this later. Right then I had Dr. Jack Taylor to worry about and his presence was making me wet. Is it really me, though, or is it the virus? Does it matter?
Dr. Taylor, sorry, I mean Jack, whisked me off to dinner. The man likes fancy restaurants and it looked very father-daughter-ish as we walked into the cute and little but very high-end Japanese restaurant deep inside SoHo. We sat next to each other and his hands were all over me, as I giggled. Anyone who originally thought I was his daughter now figured we were incestuous, or I was his mistress.
I wasn't his mistress, though, at least not yet. All we had done was to kiss. Given how excited parts of me below the Mason-Dixon line seemed to be, however, mistress status was my destiny. When he went to order the wine, Dr. Green's remarks bounced around in my head and I said no wine for me. "I have a virus. I saw my doctor today and alcohol is counter-indicated."
If I was going to let Jack seduce me, I wanted him to seduce the real me, and not the virus-infected slut locally known as Sliggins. I knew what alcohol did. Thinking back though to my recent outrageous behavior with the three men at the football party, I had really enjoyed it. I did not find it shaming at all, as I would have just a few months ago. I made a mental note to ask Dr. Green about that. Could the virus affect my outlook on sex, too? Does it affect the thinking parts of the brain? What a scary thought!
Dinner was great and it was with a serious effort that I resisted the temptation to drink wine. I rewarded myself with a Grand Marnier soufflé for dessert. I know that's a strange dessert to find in a Japanese restaurant, but if it bothers you, take it up with the chef, not with me, okay? I floated out of the restaurant, totally distracted from my angst by having this debonair, sexy man on my arm.
It was a nice fall evening and we went for a stroll about town. We walked all the way down to the battery, with me being a nervous chatterbox, and once there we gazed out over the ocean at Bedloe Island, renamed Liberty Island, where the Statue of Liberty sits. The cool ocean breezes chilled me and when Jack saw me shivering his arm went around me and warmed me up nicely.
Jack pulled me towards him gently, giving me plenty of chances to resist and hold back. I did not. When his lips met mine I shivered afresh, but this time not from the cold. His arm was around me holding me up against him, body against body, as our kiss morphed from sweet to sexy. His hand fell down to my ass and he gave it a little squeeze. I let out a barely audible little moan of pleasure.
Jack hailed a cab and we were whisked back to my apartment. He kissed me at my door. The moment of truth had arrived. What would I do? I wish I knew! In retrospect it was obvious this would happen.
"Would you like to come inside and see how the other 99% lives?" I said.
I offered Jack a drink and he took a Scotch whisky. He sat on my couch and I took the chair facing him. I knew if I sat next to him on the couch I'd be throwing myself at him. I was going to make him come to me.
We sat and talked for a while. Mostly I was the one who did the talking, until Jack interrupted me at one point.
"You seem nervous and anxious, Sally. Is something wrong?" he said.
I nodded. "It's not you, Jack. I just got some bad news today, I'm afraid."
"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked.
"Maybe later. If you want to help, you can distract me, okay?" I suggested.
"Do you find kissing distracting?" he said, with a sparkle in his eyes.
"If you're the man kissing me then yes, most definitely!" I said.
"Well, then," Jack said, rising from the couch, walking over to me, and pulling me up to a standing position. He kissed me. I kissed him back. I felt like it was a shampoo instruction: let him kiss me, kiss him back, rinse, repeat.
As we continued to kiss Jack's hands began to wander. I just continued kissing him. As far as I was concerned, his hands had free reign. After a bit, said hands had rendered me clothed in only a bra and panties. We continued to kiss, my moaning getting louder. Now I was clothed only in panties.
We continued to kiss and as my panties fell to my ankles, I stepped out of them. Jack picked me up and began to walk towards my bedroom. "No, Jack," I said. "Let's do it here, in my living room." Jack quickly disrobed. I gently grabbed his nice, hard member.
Jack enjoyed playing with my lovely breasts and tweaking my nipples. I was getting to keep them, and I liked that he was enjoying them. Suddenly he stopped and stepped back. "You have a tiny lump in your left breast, Sally."
I had forgotten that he was a medical doctor as well as a CEO. "I know. I saw Dr. Green today, up at New York Presbyterian." Then I burst into tears. How non-erotic can that be? My life depended on this man, and I was failing to seduce him!
"Breast cancer?" he asked.
"No, worse. I have some horrible virus. Jack, I only have six months left to live," I sobbed.
"You must be the woman Dr. Green called me about today!" Jack said. He took out his phone and sent a few texts. Twenty minutes later I was still naked but he had dressed. The doorbell rang and a man handed him a small bottle and checked out my naked body. I did not care. It's funny how having six months to live gives a girl a whole different perspective on life!
Jack handed me a vial of bright red pills in capsule format. "This is Rivonine. Genomeds has developed it precisely for the virus you have. It's suspected to work on a few other illnesses too, however. Dr. Green agreed to let me get you started. You take five pills today and every day for the first week. You should see Dr. Green on Friday at 2PM. Take them now," he said.
"I'll take them a little later, Jack. I don't want them to affect what I'm about to do," I said.
"What do you mean? What are you about to do?" Jack asked, puzzled.
I just smiled and walked my naked body, boobs swinging in front, over to him. I knelt before him like a peasant supplicant before a king, and I took off his pants and briefs. He was no longer hard. Well, I could fix that. I took his flaccid cock into my mouth and used all of my talents to change its state from flaccid to hard. I love doing that to a man. It makes me feel powerful.
I thought back to my intro physics class. There had been an emphasis on "phase transition." With water, it was water changing to steam, or liquid water changing to ice upon cooling. I would have loved to tell the professor about this new example: Changing a penis from flaccid to hard due to a naked blowjob. This was an example of phase transition a freshman could relate to!
I lay down on the floor and spread my legs. I played with my nipples and looked at him. I blew him air kisses. I pushed my pelvis in the air and let it fall. I repeated. Finally, he took the hint and knelt down over me. "Are you sure, Sally?" he asked.
"I'm certain," I said, and I reached around him and pulled him down on top of me. He fell perfectly into place. His now hard cock was resting at my entrance. "You'll have to do the rest, Jack," he said.
He did. It wasn't the best; he could not equal, let alone surpass the magnificent Ravi, but it was wonderful nevertheless. I loved it, and I was not shy about showing it. I had forgotten all about the condoms. I had 24 of them in my purse, too. Well, I was sure Dr. Jack Taylor was disease free. It's not as if he goes around fucking random 23-year-old women he meets at parties, right? Hmmm.
I didn't cum, but I loved every second of the fuck. Looking up at his mature face and knowing that this man who had seen so much in his lifetime, who was so rich, so powerful, and so accomplished, wanted to spend the evening with someone as insignificant as me, and even to fuck me, too, was simply thrilling.
"Is this why we drank the champagne, Jack?" I asked. I was idly stroking his chest as we lay on the floor in post coital peace.
"No, that was to celebrate the success of Rivonine," he said.
"Is it going to get FDA approval?" I asked.
"I don't know. It has powerful side effects as you're about to find out. The FDA will have to make a judgement call. The celebration is that it works. It works on the virus you have. It gives a cure 80% of the time!" He was clearly highly excited about his success.
I wanted to be happy for Jack. I did. I really did. But I was facing death. "What happens with the 20%?" I asked.
Jack looked at me. He realized his mistake. This was no longer statistics. This was a real, breathing woman facing certain death unless his drug worked. Not only was I a living, breathing woman, but I was a woman he had just fucked, and if I had anything to say about it, he was going to fuck me again!
"I don't have champagne, but I have some Scotch whiskey? It's 18 years old. I like that it's old, carefully aged, and yet it's younger than I am," I said.
"Thanks, Sally. That'd be nice," Jack said.
"I poured us each a glass. "I thought you were off alcohol?" Jack asked.
"I wanted the virus not to be the reason I fucked you, Jack. Now with the Scotch, you'd best fasten your seat belt. Want some Viagra?" I asked. I used the smooth Scotch whiskey to wash down the five Rivonine capsules.
I'm not a religious person. My parents gave me a religious education when I was little, so I knew some prayers by heart. I was like that; once I learned something, I never forgot it. As I swallowed the Rivonine capsules I said a small prayer, hoping they worked. Then I went to work on Dr. Jack Taylor himself.
I figured Jack Taylor enjoyed fucking lots of young women. I was his babe of the week. If that was the case I was okay with that, but I wanted more. I wanted babe of the month status. If I lived long enough, I wanted to be his babe of the year.
I knew that he knew that I was soon to become a horrible slut, fucking every Tom, Dick and Harry I came across, due to the Rivonine and the virus. Could he handle having a slut as his babe of the week, babe of the month, or babe of the year? He had to know what he was getting. He of all people knew the effects of the virus combined with the drug.
Time would tell if he could handle it. My money was on no, but I was not that good at betting. Maybe I'd be wrong. I hoped so. I wondered how long it took for the Rivonine effects to kick in? A day? A few days? A week? How much time did I have left to feel normal sexual urges? Well, my sexual urges were already not normal. According to Dr. Green, the virus had made me a slut. The virus combined with Rivonine would make me a slut on steroids! Would I even be able to tell the difference?
I learned right away. The time for the effect to take hold was around ten minutes. It was not subtle, either. Suddenly I needed a man inside me and I needed it now! I looked at Dr. Taylor the way a hungry lion might look at a lamb. I'm not saying Dr. Taylor was prey like a lamb. No, he was no lamb! What I'm saying is that I had a lion's hunger for sex, and Dr. Taylor was right there, in front of me.
I wore the poor guy out that night, I'm sure. I just could not get enough. The Rivonine suppressed the usual brakes all women have towards rampantly promiscuous behavior. There was no question in my mind: Rivonine combined with the virus affects a girl's brain. I was in trouble.
***************