8 comments/ 21645 views/ 12 favorites The Side Effect By: patientlee The Side Effect: How I Became A Cunnilinguist. The look on Lindsay's face on the gigantic video board in the outfield said it all. She wasn't gonna say yes. I was surprised. Shocked really. We'd been dating for a year and a half and living together for the last six months. She told me she loved me at least three times a day. Why wouldn't she say yes? I was confident enough to spend ten grand and change on a heart-shaped diamond engagement ring and three hundred fifty dollars to make my proposal live on the big screen at Fenway Park. I was confident enough to call all of my friends and family and all of her friends and family to tell them to watch the Sox on Friday night. Hell, I was confident enough that I planned an engagement picnic at my older sister's house in Springfield the week after the game. I invited everyone we knew. Yeah. I was confident alright. And then I saw that look. Shocked? Dismayed? I didn't know what other people might call it. I just knew that face meant no. I hardly even had the chance to ask the fucking question. I mean, the cameraman and the announcer positioned themselves right near us during the seventh inning, and next thing I knew, it was happening. The camera and microphone were in our faces and then she saw the message on the scoreboard: Lindsay, I love you. Marry me. Zack. I saw the scoreboard message, and all the grinning faces around us and turned to Lindsay, reaching into my pocket for the small, velvet box that held the three months' salary I planned to place on her finger. I opened my mouth to pop the question, straight into the big, foam-covered microphone, but before any sound escaped my lips, my gaze landed on the video board, the huge LCD screen used to bring directly to each seat the national anthem, the kiss cam, instant replays, and the crowd favorite, live marriage proposals. On the screen, my lips were puckered to form the "w" sound. I was afraid they wouldn't give me enough time to say everything I wanted to say, so I skipped right to the heart of the matter, right to the big question. "W—" was frozen on my lips when I saw Lindsay's sad, embarrassed look on the screen. She might as well have shouted "NO" for as loudly as her face spoke, and I let the question die before it passed my lips. There was a long moment before the Red Sox mascot, Wally the Green Monster, leapt down the stairs and bounded onto the screen with his green, furry hand out, ready to make his congratulations. By then, tears had breached the rims of Lindsay's eyes and were running down her cheeks. Even the guy in the green fur could tell that they weren't tears of joy. He made a giant gesture with his arms, prompting all thirty-something thousand fans in attendance to sing a chorus of "oh no's." Finally, the announcer shook himself from his "I-have-no-idea-what-is-going-on" stupor, and he waved the cameraman out of our faces. I could hear him babbling into the microphone for a moment, and then finally the singing started—Take Me Out to the Ball Game. I will feel sick every time I hear that song for the rest of my life. While the rest of the fans stretched and sang, I sat and put my head in my hands. I still clutched the ring box, having not even opened it to give Lindsay a glimpse. She fled, I guessed to the bathroom, and left me to stew in agony, wondering where I went wrong. I heard a4 lady in her sixties yell out behind me, "I'll marry you, honey!" before I left my seat as well. * * * * The long drive home to the Berkshires was miserable. I drove too fast on the Mass Pike in icy silence while Lindsay pretended to sleep. The velvet ring box sat cockeyed on the dashboard where I'd tossed it, half-hoping it would be stolen in a carjacking. I had been tempted to throw it out the window, but hey. Ten grand is ten grand, even if it's not sitting on my girlfriend's ring finger. When we arrived at the townhouse we rented, I got out of the car without saying a word. I left the ring where it was and hoped she'd at least give it a peek out of curiosity. If she didn't, I figured she'd at least lock the car. When she hadn't come in from the car half an hour later, I peeked out the blinds in the living room. By the streetlight, I could see that she was awake, and she was crying. When she covered her face with her hands, I could see the glint where the streetlight caught the carat and a half rock that she had slipped onto her finger. Or maybe it was the platinum setting I saw. Either way, she had tried on the ring, and she was sobbing. I couldn't imagine any circumstance under which that would be a positive sign. After a moment, she pulled the ring off, placed it back into the box, and got out of the car. She saw me watching from the window as she approached the front door. I opened it for her, and pulled her into my arms. "Let's talk about this, OK?" Lindsay nodded, and sat down on the couch, where her calico cat, Minnie, jumped into her lap. She still held the velvet box in her left fist while she stared sadly at the carpet, waiting for me to speak. "I'm sorry, Linds. I just thought we were on the same page here." "Oh, Zack. I'm the one that's sorry. I was just surprised is all. I wasn't expecting it, and I didn't have time to think, and..." She trailed off into her hands once again. This time she placed the ring box on the couch. When she settled a bit, I asked, "Did you even look at the ring?" I knew she did, but I wanted to know what she was thinking. "Yes. It's perfect. Beautiful. I wish I..." She trailed off again. This was getting irritating. I tried a new tactic. "Linds, have you even thought about marrying me?" She gave it a minute before answering. "Of course I've thought about it." "And you decided that you didn't want to." I finished the sentence for her. "I get it." I got up and paced around the room for a minute. "No. Actually, I don't get it." I was starting to get pissed. "I don't get it at all. We've been living here, together, since Christmas. I thought we've been happy. In love. Shit, Linds. Do you even love me, or is that a lie too?" I was shouting by the end of my tirade. "Shh!" she hissed. "It's the middle of the night. These walls are paper-thin." I lowered my voice. "Just tell me Linds. Be honest with me. I'm begging you. I can take it. Whatever it is." She was quiet for another moment. "Zack. I love you, and I'm so sorry this happened." She blew her nose and continued. "Do you suppose we can wait until morning? I mean, I'm exhausted; we're both upset. In the morning I'll be able to collect my thoughts and discuss this constructively, OK?" I couldn't answer. I grabbed the ring box from the couch and went to brush my teeth without saying a word. * * * * I woke up to the smell of heaven—cinnamon rolls, coffee, and bacon. She had my attention, that's for sure. I started to get out of bed as she came through the door with a tray. When our eyes met, we both sighed. "Cinnamon rolls and bacon. I'm nervous now," I said. She put the tray down, brought me my breakfast, and sat on the end of the bed with her coffee. "Don't be nervous. It's nothing we can't fix. Just enjoy your breakfast." "You're not gonna eat?" "I ate downstairs." She took another sip of her coffee and stood up. She put the mug on a coaster on my dresser. She looked a little nervous too. I felt like she should break out in a Broadway-style musical number, just to ease the tension. I was close. She started to strip. I liked where this was going. I could see the music in her head as she swayed her hips, allowing her satiny robe to slide off her shoulders. She wore only a matching bra and panty set underneath, and she took her time getting out of those too. When she turned her back to me, pulled her panties down over her cheeks, and gave a little wiggle, I actually forgot to keep chewing, and almost choked on my bacon. Lindsay's ass alone was worth the ten grand I spent on that fucking ring. She was a figure skater when she was young, and she still skated twice a week for exercise. If you've never had the chance to nestle your cock between a skater's cheeks, I suggest that you spend more time hanging out a skating rink. Don't get me wrong. I like a nice, fleshy booty as much as the next guy, but there is something magnificent about sliding my cock up inside an ass that hard and tight...And Lindsay does this thing where she kinda clenches her ass as I slid in and out... Yeah. That little peek got me going for sure. I was rock-hard already. At the same time, I was confused. Cinnamon rolls, a strip tease, bacon—what was all of this for? She was the one that said no. May she'd use bacon to soften the blow is she was breaking up with me, but a strip tease? Something was definitely weird here. She looked over her shoulder and gave me the sexy smile I fell in love with, and then popped the hook on her lacy bra, giving me an "ooh," look as she shimmied it down her arms. She turned toward me with her hands over her tits and blew air kisses at me. I smiled, enjoying the show. I took a gulp of coffee, hoping to finish it before her little dance was done. I'm ridiculously addicted to coffee, and if I didn't drink up, I risked a big fucking headache. Lindsay turned again, bending at the waist with her feet apart, and slid her panties down, just above her knees. That glimpse between her legs—tight, little asshole, pussy swollen and wet—sent a rush through my groin, and my cock started to throb. I groaned as I adjusted myself. This was fucking awesome. She turned again, with her panties hooked on the tops of her kneecaps and revealed the completely smooth skin on her mound. I gasped, never having seen her completely bare like that. I wondered if she had shaved or waxed. I wanted to ask, but I was afraid to break the spell. I finished the last swig of my coffee as her panties hit the floor and she stepped out of them. She turned and gave me the rear-view again, only this time, she spread her legs wider. Wide enough that I could see that there was no hair anywhere down there. That had to be a wax, right? I didn't know what was worse—the pressure of not knowing what was on Lindsay's mind or the pressure in my pants. Lindsay removed the tray from the bed and put it on the dresser. I couldn't stifle the moan when she crawled toward me, right up the center of the bed. Lindsay finally broke the silence. "Take those boxers off for me." I never whipped my pants off so fast in my fuckin' life. When Lindsay's face reached my groin, I thought I'd shoot right then and there. Her tongue dropped out of her mouth, and she lowered her head until the tip of her tongue met the tip of my dick. She licked up the pre-cum and continued to lick just under the head. "Oh, yeah," I moaned, anticipating one of Lindsay's epic blowjobs. My girlfriend was a talented fellatrix, and ten minutes in her mouth was sweeter than a lifetime of cinnamon rolls and bacon. "Lie back and spread your legs, babe," she said. She settled between my thighs and took my cock all the way into her mouth. Her tongue licked up and down my shaft while she sucked, alternating between deep suction and light pressure. I could tell that she was going for efficiency; she quit teasing and got right to coaxing the cum out of my cock. I groaned out loud. I wasn't going to last long under this kind of siege. "Oh, baby. You know how I like it," was all I could muster for words. She moved her tongue back up to the head and collected another tongueful of pre-cum. I guess that was part of the appeal of sucking cock for her. She liked the pre-cum. A lot. She swirled it around her mouth for a minute and smiled. She does this thing where she kind of bites my cock with her lips stretched over her teeth. Each time she bites down, she gives a good, hard suck. Then she moves down about an inch and does it again and again until my cock is buried in her throat. Then she repeats it on the way out. She did this to me for a while, which pushed me right to the edge. She let me teeter like that for a minute, and then she went in for the kill. She grabbed my balls and fucked me with her mouth until they tightened up, and I felt the cum burst out into her mouth. She sucked it out, like my cock was a big, fleshy straw. And then she did my favorite thing, where she lets my cum sit in her mouth while she swirls her tongue around the head. Just really gently, because it's so sensitive. I don't know how she can stand it, holding it in her mouth like that. I mean, I don't even like the smell of cum. I certainly can't imagine it swishing around her tongue like that. I just closed my eyes and enjoyed it. I forgot about the cinnamon rolls and the bacon, and focused on the way her tongue swished over my semi-soft prick. I forgot about the second cup of coffee I was kind of craving and the diamond in its velvet box and the baseball game and... And then I remembered the proposal. The motherfucking proposal that Lindsay had turned down. Fuck. I opened my eyes and met hers. She swallowed my cum and smiled. Where the fuck was this going? She crawled up my torso this time, and I had a kind of surreal feeling of being taken, like by an alien predator or something. My heart hadn't even returned to its normal rate after I came, and now it was picking up again. She kept climbing until her hands reached the headboard and her knees were straddling my head. I looked up into her glistening, pink flesh, and I froze. And then I started to hyperventilate. Her smile melted from her face, and she put her face in her hands. For some reason that I could never put my finger on, I could not eat pussy. Something about the smell or the taste that most men find so enticing, totally turned me off. "C'mon, Linds. Let me up. You know that's not my thing." She didn't. She just gave me a sad look and shook her head. "Does this answer your question?" she asked. "What question?" I asked. I had no idea what she was talking about. She stared at me, letting it sink in for a minute. It finally dawned on me. "This is why you won't marry me?" She gave me a slight nod, climbed off me, and went downstairs. * * * * I lay there, naked, on my back, not moving for a long time. I couldn't believe that something so stupid, so insignificant would keep her from marrying me. And Christ. Everyone knew that I proposed, and she said no. Everybody. Jesus. How the fuck was I going to fix this? I didn't even know where she had gone. I heard her car pulling out of the driveway, but she didn't even tell me if she'd be back. She could have broken up with me for all I knew. I felt like I had to call somebody. Dump this burden on someone to help me figure this out, but who do you call for something like this. Dr. Ruth? After much deliberation, I decided that my sister was the only option. I texted her. "Jo—Need advice. You around?" She answered right away. "Yeah. What's up?" "Can I come over?" Jo lived alone. It would be easier to drive there than to continue texting. "Bring supper." My little sister would do anything to avoid cooking a meal. I hoped I could use food to persuade her to help me out without busting a gut laughing. I called for a pizza, and forty-five minutes later, I was walking through her front door. Jo was twenty-five, bisexual, and a little crazy. An adrenaline junky kind of crazy. Sky diving, bungee jumping, swimming with sharks—if it made the average person shit his pants, Jo was first in line to sign up. I knew she'd had sex with more girls than I did. Twice as many guys as girls too. We sat down at her tiny kitchen table, where she'd laid out plates, napkins, and Keystone Lights. I don't usually drink that shit, but Jo was cheap. And broke. We ate and drank in silence for a few minutes. I pounded down three beers, hoping to calm my nerves. When I cracked open the fourth 'Stone, Jo said, "If you're bringing me a case tomorrow, you can keep drinking." I nodded and gulped down half the can. I belched loudly then sat back in my chair. After a moment, Jo finally asked the burning question. "What the fuck happened at the baseball game?" I started to beat around the bush, but Jo didn't let me get away with that. "Just spill it," she said. "What did she tell you?" I spoke as quickly as I could to get past it. "Lindsay won't marry me because I won't...I won't...You know." I gestured toward her crotch with my head. Jo raised an eyebrow. "No. I don't know." "C'mon." I was dying. "I won't...go down on her." "You won't lick her pussy?" Jo was blunt. I had to give her that. "Yeah. That." I was blushing. I could feel it. She didn't laugh. "You're fucking kidding me." I hung my head like a dog that just got caught tearing apart the new throw pillows. "What the fuck's the matter with you?" She was appalled. "C'mon, Jo. I can't be the only man in the world that won't do it." I truly believed that was accurate. "Well, that may be true, but none of those other guys are married either." She had a point. "Did she actually say she won't marry you?" "She didn't say yes to a ten-thousand dollar ring in front of thirty-thousand fans at Fenway," I said. "And she told you that was why?" She waited for an answer that I didn't give right away. "Look, Zack. I wouldn't marry a guy that refused to eat me out either. I'm just making sure you have all the facts." "She made it abundantly clear." I wasn't about to tell my baby sister how she had gone about telling me. "Well, if you're absolutely sure that there's nothing else keeping her from marrying you, then there's only one thing you can do." "And what's that?" I expected her to tell me to break up with her. That any woman so petty wasn't worth it. "Go home. Pull her pants off, spread her legs, and eat her until she comes on your face. Twice," she said as she grabbed another piece of pizza. "You've been enormously helpful." I fought the urge to call her a bitch. "Let me ask you this. Does she suck your dick?" "Yeah." "Does she let you come in her mouth?" "Yeah." "Does she swallow?" "Yeah." Jo was right. I was an idiot. "Then you're a selfish asshole. If I were you, I'd go home and lick her pussy until she begs you to stop. If you're really serious, throw in a good rimjob too." I felt my eyebrows knitting together as I scowled. "What the fuck is your problem. Pussy tastes good. I eat it as often as I can. You want me to come over and take care of your girlfriend for you?" I couldn't tell if she was teasing or not. "Jo, I need actual help. Lotions, potions...something to make it taste better. Please." "You'll have better luck with the Internet. I say suck it up and eat her out as soon as you get home." I picked up my phone and called home. When Lindsay didn't answer, I left her a message. "Linds. I'm crashing on my sister's couch. I came for dinner and had too many beers. I'll be home in the morning." I paused, hoping she'd pick up or something. "I love you." My sister scowled at me while I spoke. When I hung up, she said, "Better make that two cases." * * * * In the morning I found the note from Jo taped to my keys. "I have an idea about your problem. As long as you're sure that there is no other reason that Lindsay doesn't want to marry you. Call me later. P.S. If you wake me up, I'll kick you in the nuts and steal the ring." Lindsay was in bed when I got home with breakfast—Egg McMuffins and McDonald's coffee. I brought the paper bag of greasy goodness upstairs and woke her gently. "Linds, I brought breakfast." She rolled over and yawned. "What time is it?" "Nine-thirty. Almost." She sat up and took the coffee from me. I inhaled deeply and sat down next to her. The Side Effect "Am I correct in inferring that the reason that you won't marry me is that I won't go down on you?" I saw the tears welling up in her eyes. She nodded. "Is that the only reason?" She nodded again, but this time she spoke. "Zack. I love you. I want to marry you. I do. It's just that—" "I won't eat your pussy." "I know it sounds foolish and trivial, but I miss oral sex. I haven't had it since we've been together. I can't imagine going the rest of my life without it. I mean, if you thought you'd never get another blowjob in your life, how would it make you feel?" I was too ashamed to answer. "Did you think maybe you should bring this up?" I tried to control my tone. I knew I was in the wrong, but I was upset and embarrassed. "I tried. I tried nudging you down there. I tried asking you to do it, and you brushed me off with a finger to my g-spot. That's not better than coming all over your face, you know." I nodded. It was the best I could do. "How would you like it," she continued, "if you asked me for a blowjob, and instead of sucking your cock, I stuck my finger up your ass and gave you a prostate massage?" She was pissed now. "Babe, I get it. It's just this crazy, irrational aversion I have. Like how I can't even take a bite of a tomato. "Zack, I don't like tomatoes either. It doesn't keep me from sucking your cock. Or swallowing your cum, come to think of it." I remembered my sister's note. "Is the pussy-licking thing the only reason that you won't marry me?" "Oh my god. It's not that I won't marry you. I didn't even say no! It was on my mind when you asked me to marry you is all. I panicked. I never said I wouldn't marry you." "But it's the only reason you didn't say yes?" I desperately needed this clarified. "Yes, Zack. It's the only reason." She was getting more and more impatient with me. "Alright. I talked to Jo yesterday. She thinks she might be able to help." "Jo, your lesbian sister? What's she gonna do? Come over here and eat me out so you don't have to?" The edge in her voice made me feel even worse. I shook my head a little. "She's bi, actually. She usually dates guys." Lindsay gave me a look that reminded me that I'm stupid. "I know," I said. "It doesn't matter. I'm gonna call her later and see what she has to say." She looked down at her hands for a while, and finally she said, "Show me the ring again." I figured that was better than telling me to fuck off, so I allowed myself to have hope. * * * * On Saturday, Lindsay went outlet shopping with her mother, and I sat down at the computer to check my email. Three generic Viagra ads, two get-rich-quick schemes, and some pics from my cousin's mission trip to Ecuador. That was it. I Googled "eating pussy" and found myself mired in a long list of porn clips. Honestly, they did nothing to cure my aversion to the taste of a woman's nether regions, but I gave myself a good stroking while I took notes on technique. I told myself it was educational. I believed it too, until I came all over my hand anyway. At three o'clock I called my sister, and hoped she'd be up. I was lucky. Five minutes earlier and she might have kicked my ass. "Come over," she said. "Bring a box of coffee and some doughnuts from Dunkin' Donuts. None of that gas station crap." Shortly after I arrived, a Honda Civic pulled into the driveway, and a gorgeous brunette stepped out. "Who's that?" I asked my sister. "Dr. Sabrina West, the woman that's gonna solve your problem. I hope anyway," Jo said with a chuckle. She opened the door to let her in. "C'mon in." As soon as the woman stepped into the house, my sister kissed her with the kind of long, deep kiss that I reserved for Lindsay. I'm not gonna lie. I watched. And I got a little hard. When they finally broke the kiss, Jo introduced us. "What kind of doctor are you," I asked, wondering what the hell Jo was cooking up here. "PhD in biochemistry. I study brain chemicals." I looked at Jo and raised my eyebrows. "C'mon," Jo said, leading us to the dining room table. "Let's have coffee." "I can't stand the suspense," I said finally once coffee was poured and doughnuts were passed around. "What's the deal here?" Jo smiled. That disturbed me a bit. "Sabrina works for a pharmaceutical company. I can't tell you which one." I looked at Sabrina, who just smiled and nodded. "That inspires confidence," I said. My hope was starting to fade. "I'm not having a problem getting or maintaining an erection." "Relax, Zack. It's not about your dick," Jo said. "Sabrina's been working on a new med for depression, but it's had some unanticipated side effects." "Side effects?" I wasn't sure I liked where this was going. I didn't think leaving my future with Lindsay to a fuck up side effect was the best course of action. "What does this have to do with me?" "Well," Jo said. "Sabrina's science is sound. Her ethics? Not so much." Sabrina placed a baggie on the table containing an off-white powder. "What is it?" I asked. "I can't tell you much," Sabrina said, "but I will tell you that seventy-two percent of participants in the first clinical trial experienced some sensory confusion in the first hour after taking it in powder form." "Sensory confusion?" I was confused enough without fucking with my senses. "Have you ever heard of synesthesia?" Sabrina asked. "Syens-what?" I was lost. "Synesthesia," she said. "It's rare and not-well-researched. There are different types, but I met a woman at a conference once who would hear a certain noise, and feel a corresponding sensation somewhere on her skin. This drug has a similar side effect." "So what do I do? Slip it into her iced tea and sing to her?" I was aware that I was scowling, but there was nothing I could do about it. This was weird. "No. No," Sabrina said. "You take it before you have sex with her. That's all there is to it." I reached for the baggie. "Uh-uh," said Sabrina. "I may not be all that ethical, but the risk isn't for free. It's gonna cost you a thousand bucks." "Jesus Christ! I don't have that kind of cash." Shit. I didn't see that coming. "She saw the baseball game, Zack. She knows you've got money." Frickin' Jo. "I had money. I spent it on a ring, remember?" "A ring that's sitting in a box. Cough up the cash, big brother. It's your best shot at getting that ring on Lindsay's finger." I finished my coffee. This was ridiculous. A thousand dollars for who-knows-what with a seventy-two percent chance of a side effect that I didn't know about from an unethical witch doctor. No fucking way. Even if it was free, it would be stupid. And what the hell kind of scientist works in the Berkshires? I opened my mouth to tell my sister to fuck off and said, "Let me run to the bank before it closes." * * * * I went home and spent the rest of the weekend looking up synesthesia and depression meds. I'm a computer guy. I don't know anything about medications or brain chemicals or screwed up senses, but I did my best to get a handle on this. I wasn't successful, but I did manage to convince myself that it was scientifically possible that this white powder could alter the balance of my brain chemicals in a way that would make eating my girlfriend's pussy palatable for me. Hell, maybe it would make it taste like strawberry ice cream, and I'd want to live between Jo's legs forever. Hell, Jo could have called her friend a sorceress, tossed a handful of glitter into the baggie with the powder, and charged me twice as much. I wouldn't have cared. I was desperate to get past this stupid aversion and get on with marrying Lindsay. At least on to being engaged to her. On Sunday night, Lindsay got home from her mother's house. She didn't usually stay overnight when they went shopping, but I guess with things being a little awkward between us, we both needed a break. She had brought me leftovers from dinner with her family, and she heated up the roast beef and mashed potatoes and cracked open a beer for me before going upstairs with her purchases. On her way out of the kitchen, she said, "Don't forget the potion from Jo's friend." Damn. My sister had called her. Now she'd be expecting me to go down on her, and I wouldn't be able to chicken out. I ate three more bites before I lost my appetite. I threw my plate in the sink and finished my beer. I put the bottle in the recycle bin and went upstairs. The new satin and lace nightgown didn't surprise me, but the paper bowls lined up on the dresser did. There were lemon wedges in the first bowl and salt or sugar in the second. I looked around the room. I must have had a funny look on my face because Lindsay asked what I was looking for. "A bottle of tequila. Did you bring one home?" She chuckled. "No, but I have some tonic water." She pointed to the clear substance in the third bowl. I assumed that the sticky-looking substance in the fourth bowl was honey, which seemed like the most fun of the bunch. "I'm afraid to ask what's going on here," I said. "So don't. Where's the stuff from Jo's friend?" "What do you know about it?" I asked. I was even more suspicious now. She smiled. "Relax. Don't worry so much. This will be fun." "Fun. Altering my brain chemicals will be fun. Sure." "Think of it like smoking pot or something. Didn't you ever do that?" I hoped she was teasing, but it suddenly dawned on me that this was a drug. "Linds, what if they decide to do drug testing at work?" She sat on the end of the bed and said, "Jo's friend said it's an anti-depressant. Half the world takes those." "Without a prescription?" She glared at me hard enough that I finally gave in. "Fine," I said, resigning myself to whatever my crazy-ass sister's friend had in store for me. "But seriously. What kind of biochemist works way out here in the Berkshires anyway?" "You're an idiot," she said. "I love you, but you're an idiot." "What? Why?" She was smiling while she insulted me anyway. "Sabrina came out for the weekend to fuck your sister. She lives in Boston, you moron." Of course. She came to fuck my sister. How stupid of me. The image of my sister going down on her sexy doctor friend popped into my head. I shook it off and went to my dresser to find the baggie. I held it up and shook it like it was pixie dust or something. "Did Jo happen to tell you what I do with it?" Lindsay smiled coyly and said, "You'll find out soon enough. Go take a shower while I finish getting things ready." After I washed my hair, Lindsay pulled open the shower curtain and said, "Hey sexy. Need help with the dirty parts?" I smiled and handed her the soap. I'm not sure she did a very good job on the rest of me, but by the time she was done, I had the cleanest cock in town. Balls too. She was very thorough. Just when I thought I couldn't possibly get any cleaner, she took the showerhead from its hanger and rinsed my junk. I tried to grab the soap, figuring that I better get the rest of me cleaned, but she lathered up her hand and started again. "Uh, Linds? I think it's the shampoo bottle that says 'lather, rinse, repeat,' not the soap." She laughed with that sexy giggle I love so much and started rubbing the soap over my cock again. I was as hard as a rock at that point, and I wondered just how much cleaner she intended to make me. She started jacking my cock, slowly at first. Back and forth, base to tip, smiling the whole time. "What's your plan here, sweetheart?" I asked. "You trying to make me come in the shower?" "Today's about me, pal," she said. "I'm getting this out of the way now, so you don't feel the need to rush. You paid a thousand bucks for that little bag out there. You don't want it to go to waste, do you?" "No, no. You're right. Can't let it go to waste. But hurry up. Water's going to get cold awfully quick." She quickened her pace, jerking me off faster and cupping my balls with her other hand. I was half-expecting her to rinse me off again and blow me, but that didn't happen. She pumped in and out, squeezing just at the right times. Hand jobs weren't her specialty, but this was probably the best one of my life. The slipperiness of the soap made her hand glide across the skin on my cock, bringing the pressure in my groin to the boiling point. I felt my balls tighten and my cock twitch, and that was it. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," was all I could say as I came all over Lindsay's belly and legs. When I ran out of cum, Lindsay smiled. "At least we're in the shower, huh?" "Uh-huh." I was breathing too hard to say more. The water was starting to cool down, so I finished soaping the rest of my body and offered to soap hers. "I took a shower while you ate. I just need to touch up this mess," she said. "Go dry off and grab a couple beers from the fridge. I'll be done in a minute to mix up your potion." The potion. I forgot about that. Shit. I turned off the lukewarm water, toweled off, and went to the kitchen. When I returned to the bedroom, I saw Lindsay lying naked on our bed, the baggie in her hand. There was a bottle of water on the dresser next to the bowls. I was still semi-hard after the shower, and I got harder as soon as I laid eyes on her creamy skin. Her rose-colored nipples were hard and ready, her legs parted so that her lower lips were just barely visible beyond her shaved mound. "My god, you're beautiful," I said as I dropped my towel, put the beers on the nightstand, and went to her. I crawled from the end of the bed, straight into her arms. Her mouth was waiting for my kiss, and we kissed for a long time. My tongue probed her mouth long and deep, like it hadn't since we were first together. Lindsay finally broke the kiss. "Are you procrastinating, my love?" "Maybe just a little," I said. "I'm a little nervous about this, I guess." "Nervous about eating me? Or nervous about taking the drug? 'Cause you're not getting out of either one." "More nervous about the drug, I guess. I have no idea what it's supposed to do. What if it doesn't work? That's another thousand dollars down the drain." "Well, the ring money isn't down the drain. I'm gonna say yes. I'll just say yes quicker if this works out for us," she said. "I'm not getting the five hundred dollars back from Fenway," I said with a frown, "and over a little oral sex." "For the very last time," she said. "I didn't say no. I was just surprised, and the whole oral thing was on my mind. The girls at work were talking about it at work the day before the game. I was confused. I'm sorry." I sighed and changed the subject by taking her nipple into my mouth. I licked circles around one and then the other, finally taking each one in my mouth and sucking hard enough to make her flinch. I pulled my head away and asked, "When do I take the potion?" "In a few. It only lasts like forty-five minutes or an hour, so we'll fool around a little bit first. How 'bout you used those fingers of yours and make me feel good?" "Gladly." That was familiar territory. I put my head on her belly and reached between her legs. I raked my stubby fingernails over her thighs, making her shiver a bit. I moved my hand up to pet her bare mound. I liked the way it felt, even though I preferred the look of some nice, trimmed hair down there. I spread her lips with my fingers and then slid them down to her opening. She was wetter than I'd ever felt before, and I realized just how aroused she was by all of this. I wanted to think it was my amazing kissing or fingering skills, but even my numb skull figured out that she knew that my tongue was getting her off tonight, come hell or high water. I couldn't tell if that aroused me or scared the shit out of me. I guessed it didn't matter. She gave me about four minutes to finger her before she said, "It's time to drug you, my love." I looked up at her, and she laughed right out loud. "Oh my god. You look terrified." I'm not gonna lie. She was right. She sat up and went to get off the bed, but stopped herself. She reached for my hand and kissed the back of it. Then she smiled and pulled my fingers into her mouth. The same fingers that had just scooped up the wetness in her pussy. My jaw dropped. I'd never seen her do that before. I seriously thought that was something only porn stars did. I took a deep breath and felt my dick get harder. When my fingers were clean, she got up to mix the love potion. I took a deep breath as she poured the powder into the bottle of Aquafina. Her breasts jiggled as she shook the bottle, distracting me for a minute. She handed me the bottle and looked at the clock on the nightstand. "Forty-five or so minutes. Are you ready?" I took the bottle from her hand and guzzled it down. It tasted a little bit like Tang, that shit that astronauts drink, but the flavor disappeared when Lindsay dipped her fingers into the bowl of honey and put them in my mouth. She kissed me before I had a chance to swallow, and the honey on both of our tongues sent a jolt to my already rock-hard cock. She led me back to the bed without breaking the kiss. I stumbled over a book on the floor, and we both fell onto the bed, giggling a little. "So now what?" I asked. "You're stalling again, aren't you?" She leaned over me and kissed my nose. "You're probably right. How do I know if it's working?" "Jo's friend said that you'd just know. She suggested picking up where we left off and just progressing naturally." "So I should finger you again?" "Yes," she said, as she lay back on the bed. "Put your head back on my belly. That was comfortable." I did, but I kissed the soft skin there before I settled my head onto her. She spread her legs for me, and I replaced my fingers into her warm wetness. "Mmm. Like satin," I said, as I started to rub her clit. I swirled my first two fingers around that hard, little nub for a moment before dipping back inside to get a fresh batch of her natural lube. That was when the first hint of the taste hit my mouth. I moved back to her clit and worked my fingers in tight circles. Lindsay's hips rocked in rhythm with my fingers. I turned my head to look at her, and she shivered as my stubble rubbed across the skin of her belly. She smiled down at me, like she knew something I didn't. I licked my lips as I realized how true that was. When I dipped my fingers inside of her the second time, I got a stronger sense of tasting something on my tongue. Something a little salty. Maybe buttery. I brought my fingers back to Lindsay's clit, but that flavor lingered. I wondered what the hell it was. I was finding it hard to concentrate on what I was doing with my fingers as I started smacking my lips, trying to place the flavor. I'd eaten roast beef and mashed potatoes, but that wasn't it. Beer? Nope. What the fuck was I tasting? "Hon, what's wrong?" Lindsay asked me. "Your face looks like it's in pain." "No. I have this taste in my mouth, and I can't figure out what it is. It's weird. It just...came over me all of a sudden. It's almost like...shrimp scampi or something." She laughed right out loud at me, knocking me off my game. "Shrimp scampi, huh? Is it a pleasant taste?" "Yeah. It is. But it's not really shrimp scampi. I wish I knew what it was and how it got there." "If you figure it out, let me know, and I'll make it for dinner tomorrow," she said, still grinning. It was that grin that reminded me about the potion. I was just about to ask when she grabbed my hand and stuck two of my fingers inside her, as far as they'd go. "Oh, yeah," she moaned. "Fuck me with your fingers." I finger-fucked her slowly at first, then faster as she got wetter and wetter. The taste in my mouth got stronger and stronger. I wanted to stop, to savor it, but Lindsay wouldn't let me. The Side Effect "My clit, baby. Rub my clit." I ran my soaking-wet fingers back and forth, feeling her nub getting harder as she approached orgasm. I was beginning to feel lightheaded, drunk from the savory nectar on my tongue that I could neither place nor tell where it came from. Lindsay's legs shook and her hips bucked, and I knew that her orgasm was about to peak. I rubbed harder and faster until— She grabbed my hand to stop me. "What's wrong," I asked a little bit alarmed. "Come here," she said, climbing off the bed and beckoning me to follow. Once again, she put my fingers in her mouth and licked them clean. Then she took my hand and led me to the bowls on the dresser. She dipped my fingers into the bowl of honey. As she brought my fingers to her lips, I tasted the sticky sweetness of the honey in my own mouth. She licked off the honey slowly, kissing my lips when she finished. When I tried to poke my tongue into her mouth, she pulled back. "Uh-uh. We're not finished yet," she said. She pulled me to the bowl with the tonic water, and dipped my fingers in it. "Yuck," I said, making a face. "I hate tonic water. It's so...bitter." She licked that off too, swirling her tongue around the pads of my fingers. It made up for the disgusting taste of tonic water in my mouth. It wasn't until she squeezed the lemon wedge over my fingers, however, that it dawned on me what was going on. As soon as she squeezed the lemon, I smelled it, but a second later, when it ran across my fingertips, along the ridges of my fingerprints, I knew. This was not a love potion. This drug wouldn't make her pussy taste like ice cream or alter my perception of flavors. This drug mixed up my senses, turning my fingers into a tongue. I was tasting with my fingertips! My mind was blown. Lindsay's grin spread across her face as she realized that I was figuring it out. "Have you placed that flavor yet, Zack? The one you want for dinner tomorrow?" "Oh my god," I said. I was stunned. "That wasn't food, was it?" "Nope. And you don't have to wait for dinner to have it, 'cause it's right here!" She stuck her own fingers into her pussy to demonstrate. She was beaming. I couldn't even form words. I was tasting pussy from my fingertips. This was fucking wild. I stuck my fingers back into the bowl of tonic water. Sure enough, I could taste the bitter quinine, right at the back of my tongue. I licked the forefinger on my other hand and stuck it into the bowl of salt. The sharp saltiness overwhelmed my mouth, and I put the right hand into the lemons, squeezing the wedges and making a mess on the dresser. Lindsay continued to watch with a funny smile on her face as my fingers created a bizarre cocktail. She let me play for another minute before she reminded me why I had paid so much for this science experiment gone wild. "Go wash your hands so you can taste me again," she said with a wicked twinkle in her eye. I understood the twinkle as soon as the soap hit my hands. "Blech!" I started spitting in the sink, trying to get the taste of the Softsoap out of my mouth. Lindsay came into the bathroom laughing so hard, I thought she'd piss herself. "Rinse your hands, dummy," she said, snorting as she spoke. "You knew that would happen, didn't you, you little minx?" "Of course I did. You should have too." She rubbed her hands down my ass cheeks and said, "C'mon. Let's get those fingers back in here. We've only got a few minutes before it wears off, and then..." I raised my eyebrows at her in the mirror. "And then?" "And then you get to taste me the regular way. You know, with your tongue." She was grinning. Again. I smiled back. I had to admit to myself that I couldn't wait. For the first time in my life, I was going to lick her pussy without some irrational fear of the taste. Thank fucking god. I turned to hug her and then scooped her into my arms and dropped her onto the bed. Her legs bounced apart, and she squealed. This time I didn't mess around with my fingers, whether or not they could taste. I started with my lips, kissing all over Lindsay's wet pussy. It was like a soft apology to her clit, to her lips, to every spot I had been afraid to taste. She shivered each time my lips touched her flesh. I smiled up at her between her knees. She had tears in her eyes. "Sweetie," I said, "if I had known how import—" She cut me off before I could finish. "Shut up, Zack. I love you. Just stop talking and eat me." Before she could finish, I plunged my tongue inside her and fucked her with it. In and out, in and out, over and over, while she moaned. I put my fingertips to her clit while I tongue-fucked her, and I tasted a doubly intense rush of her sexy flavor washing over my tongue. When I finally pulled my tongue out of her cunt, I said, "This is fucking intense. My head is swimming with the taste of you. I can't get enough." She put her hands in my hair and pushed me back between her thighs. "My clit. Please lick my clit." I have to admit that my technique wasn't what put her over the edge. I was sloppy and drooling a bit, I could tell, but as soon as my taste buds mad contact with that little nub, her hips bucked, and she moaned out of control. She pulled my hair so hard, it hurt. "You like that baby?" I asked without moving my tongue from its target. "Oh my god. I'm so fucking close. I'm gonna come. Keep licking me, just like that." She was babbling now, and her head thrashed back and forth. I thought about plunging my fingers back inside her, but I decided that could wait for the encore. Seconds later, her babbles turned to incoherent shouts, her toes curled, and she held my face tightly to her pussy with her legs. I struggled to breathe when she closed her thighs around my head, but I tried to lap up every drop of liquid that flowed from her as she came. When she finally relaxed after her orgasm, I could finally hear her forming words again. "Marry me." "What was that, my love?" I asked. "Marry me. Please," she said. I pulled my mouth from her sopping-wet pussy and went to the dresser. I pulled the ring box out of the drawer, where it sat, lonely and disappointed. I removed the heart-shaped rock from its velvet bed, and slipped it onto Lindsay's ring finger. "I love you, baby," I said. "Let's marry each other." She smiled while she examined the ring, her tears shining brighter than the facets in the diamond. Then her expression changed. I almost expected devil horns to pop out of her skull. "Round two," she announced. I smiled, thinking that my fiancée was about to give me a blowjob. Instead, I found my head pushed between her thighs once again. My grin widened as I realized that I loved it. Her second orgasm built quicker than the first, and I used my fingers to rub her g-spot while I licked her clit. I was so pleased to hear the happy noises she made, that I didn't think twice when she said, "Stick your finger in my ass." I remembered too late that the side effect hadn't completely worn off. It was a bit of a shock for both of us, but it was definitely for the best. Now my fiancée tells me that I give a hell of a rimjob.