Unintended Consequences
The heat of another muggy summer day quietly radiated off the pavement. Inside Logan’s Pharmacy, large ceiling fans hung from the ornate tin ceiling, blowing the scent of roasted cashews throughout the spotless drugstore filled with teenagers slurping milkshakes and sharing banana splits.
“Put a couple of drops in her coffee. It’ll work wonders, I guarantee it,” said the older man with a pleasant face and white coat.
“Is it safe, Peter?” said the anxious man, looking over his shoulder.
“It is a potent drug, but it’s safe. They use it for eye surgery. Don’t worry Dick. I have known Jane since she was a little girl. She will be fine, I promise.”
“Okay, I put a couple of drops into her coffee. She won’t pass out, just become unresponsive and she will do anything I tell her to do. Is that right?”
“To a point, don’t overthink this. You’re not the first husband whose wife is a little less than thrilled about oral sex. Jane’s a good woman. She probably isn’t comfortable putting your penis in her mouth because it would make her feel dirty. I mean, no respectable woman would do such a thing. After all, that’s how we urinate.”
“All you are doing is suggesting to her that sucking your penis in the privacy of your own home is not dirty. Go find yourself a food item that’s phallic, a banana or a sausage. Tell her she is comfortable putting these things in her mouth. Then tell her she will be comfortable putting your cock in her mouth and that should do the trick. Suckling is a natural response among mammals. Now, can I get you anything else?”
“No Peter, the drops and the paper will be fine.”
“I read it this morning. Civil disobedience, my ass,” Peter said, putting the small brown bottle into a white paper bag.
“It’s those, god damned communists. Them and that damned Castro! Say what you want about McCarthy, but he was on to something, Peter. We’re at war and Ricky’s eligible for the draft.”
“Dick, I remember when they bombed the hell out of Pearl Harbor. We listened to it on the radio. The world ended for me, having just graduated from pharmacy school. But I didn’t go crying in the goddamned street. I was an Army medic on a troopship bound for Normandy.”
“I was at Guadalcanal, in the Navy.”
Peter Logan, pharmacist at Logan’s Pharmacy, briefly slipped into a somber tone of voice. “We will survive this. The country is still in one piece. There is a new president in the office. Ricky is smart and strong. If he gets drafted, he will do his best. You’ll feel better once you get Jane to be more cooperative. You both will.”
“You’re right Peter, thanks,” said Dick Edwards, the socially backward klutz with the greasy comb over. Often called Dick Ed at the Westend factory where he worked, pushing baskets of scrap metal from forming die No. 6 to the collection bin at the loading dock.
“Breakfast smells great, honey,” said Jane from the bathroom. She was a kindhearted woman from a large family. She pitied her husband more than she loved him. However, now that divorce has become a viable option for a middle-aged woman to start a new life for herself. Jane often considered the possibility of leaving Dick as soon as Ricky graduated.
In front of the full-length mirror, she held up her sagging breasts. They looked much better in her bra. Her gaze drifted down to her stomach. There was a little paunch, but not much. She picked at her dense thicket of dark brown pubic hair; fluffing it up so she could run her fingers through it. Jane admired her legs. They were shapely, long, and strong. She considered them her best feature.
Then Jane gazed at her cute face with her big brown eyes, but all she could see were her crooked teeth and her dingy, limp hair. Jane sighed. She dropped her breasts and put on her housecoat. Being Mrs. Dick Edwards was her lot in life.
“Don’t worry about a thing. I made you some coffee.”
“Well, ain’t I the lucky girl?”
“I just thought I should spoil you every once in a while,” said Dick in his awkward yet charming way. “Yesterday, I was at the drugstore talking to Peter.”
“Oh yeah, how’s Marguerite?” said Jane, taking a tentative sip of her coffee before she decided it had cooled enough to drink.
“I don’t know, he didn’t say. We talked mostly about the war—”
Slapping the table, she said, “Dick, I don’t want that word spoken in this house.”
“Jane, sweetheart, drink your coffee and relax. I don’t like the word either.”
He returned to cooking the sausages, and soon the kitchen was silent.
“Jane... Jane?” Dick thought that was it. He whispered to his dazed wife. “As your husband, I command you to suck dick. No, I do not mean me. I mean, well yes! I mean, suck cock, that’s it. It’s okay for you to put a cock in your mouth. Um, you put all kinds of things in your mouth, candy canes and cigarettes.”
Dick fumbled around, peeling the skin off his training aide.
“Okay, let’s try this. Here’s a banana. You put bananas in your mouth. You like putting bananas in your mouth. They’re good and oh good god, this thing is huge! What am I thinking?”
“Okay, okay, never mind the banana. Sausage! That’s more like it! Yes, a cock is like a sausage. It’s warm, wet, salty, and you just love putting sausage into your mouth but only from one guy, Jane. You want to suck his sausage. Jane, you need to suck his sausage because you love to suck his sausage. You want all his sausage. Jane, you just love sucking- Ricky!”
“Ah -yawn- yeah, something smells great in here… What’s with mom?” said the high school senior with the mop of long hair.
“She’s a little tired.”
“No, I mean, didn’t you say that she wants all my sausage? You want my sausage, Ma?” He was still groggy and working diligently to wake up.
“What dear?”
“I said you want my sausage.”
“Yes, I do,” Jane replied with a sly grin, her sleepy gaze fixed on her son’s loins.
Babbling in hysteria, Dick said, “Honey, that’s unnecessary. You already have a sausage, and—”
The large steam whistle blew at the rail yard.
“Oh my god no, no, no, oh no! I gotta go, son. Your mother has all the sausage she needs. We’ll talk about this later,” said Dick, running out the door of their row house.
Jane and Ricky were alone. The hushed sounds of the house grew loud in the quiet kitchen, the hum of the wall clock, the gurgling of the coffee pot, and the chug, chug, chug of the refrigerator. Jane’s eyes hadn’t left her son’s boxers and his manly half erect cock straining against the thin material.
“Mom, what’s wrong?” asked Ricky, picking up his mother’s coffee and taking a big drink.
“Your father started talking about the war.”
“I know! This jackass seems hell bent for glory,” Ricky said angrily and took another drink.
“Ricky, don’t talk about the president that way.”
“I didn’t vote for him and we’ve got no business fighting someone else’s war.”
Ricky had to sit down. Jane assumed his emotions had overcome him. He had been a regular at protest demonstrations denouncing the administration’s plan to commit more troops to fighting in Indo-China.
Grabbing her son’s cock, Jane said, “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Ma, what, er, you doing?” Ricky said, slurring his words.
“You said I could have your sausage.” Jane’s eyes flared with forbidden passion. She licked her lips and asked, “Did you change your mind?”
“You can have my sausage mommy,” Ricky said whimsically. By now, Ricky’s eighteen-year-old cock was rock solid.
“Good boy. I’m starving.”
Jane’s manipulations had popped his dick through the fly of his boxers. Holding her son steady, Jane fondled his balls while she sucked Ricky’s manhood.
“Oh god mommy, that feels so good! What about daddy?”
“What about him? And you know it sounds weird you calling me mommy when I’m sucking on you.”
“You’re the one, you, you wanted all the sausage,” said Ricky in a singsong voice.
“Darling, you’re going to loosen up and call me Jane.”
“Yes, Jane.”
“That’s a good boy.”
By the end of the day, Ricky had come to terms with the episode he had shared with his mother. He had a girlfriend, Peggy, but he hadn’t so much as felt her boob. His mother had given him a blowjob, and it was the single greatest experience in Ricky’s young life.
He was thinking of his mother, how incredible it felt to cum in her mouth, her big brown eyes looking into his, while she silently swallowed his load. She called it her candy. Ricky was singing Candy Girl when he came home with his erection that wouldn’t go down.
“Ricky, is that you?”
“Yes Jane, I’m home.”
Dick folded his newspaper in his lap. “What did you just call your mother?” he asked in an irritated voice.
“Um, she wants me to call her Jane, dad. I don’t know why. Something about it was weird for her to—”
“Hear my son, a full grown man, call me mommy,” she said from the kitchen.
Dick rolled his eyes. “Fucking feminist,” he said, muttering under his breath.
“Ricky, I really need your help. In here, now,” said Jane, standing in the arch to the kitchen.
Dick shot his wife a puzzled look.
“Unless you want to do the dishes, dear?”
Without replying, Dick threw his paper back up in front of his face.
The moment Jane and Rick were out of Dick’s line of sight, she tugged at Ricky’s crotch. “I’ve been starving for this all day,” Jane said in a hushed voice, her lips brushing against his ear as she did.
“Yes, Jane.”
Ricky splashed the water and banged the pots and pans to cover up the sounds of his mother’s noisy blowjob. While his father read the paper in the front room.
“I don’t think it worked, Peter. It’s been two weeks since Jane took the drops and she still won’t touch me. She wouldn’t even talk to me last night. Those, god damned feminists have convinced her she’s too good to be a housewife.”
“That should have worked like a charm. How did you use the drops?”
“The way you said, I put two drops into her coffee. The banana I got out was the size of a horse-cock. I put it back and got out a sausage. I told her she loves sausage, but Ricky walked in and she woke up—”
“Whoa Dick, it sounds like you started off alright, but you had a messy finish. Jane doesn’t know what you want from her. That or she really takes issue with oral sex. Give it another try. Start small, she’s already thinking about sex, so take a step back.” Peter leaned in close. “You know, get creative,” he said with a wink.
“What do you mean?”
“She may not be as upset about sex that’s a little more modest. Say, rubbing your penis between her breasts until you reach orgasm. So take the sausage and stuff it back and forth between two large tomatoes. Jane has an impressive set of tits on her, telling her how much you like them and how happy they make you will improve her self-esteem. It will probably be easier, mentally, for her to pleasure you with her breasts than with her mouth.”
“Yeah, that makes sense,” said Dick.
“Once she gets comfy with that, you can try again for the blowjob. Hell, even do anal.”
“Anal, what’s that?”
Peter made a vulgar sign by making an “O” with one hand and shoving his thumb up it with the other.
“Oh my,” Dick’s voice quivered. “You mean she will let me stick it up her… butt?” said Dick, whispering, unable to say the word out loud.
Peter regretted giving Dick more than one option to think about. “Dick, let’s just stick with a boob-job,” Peter said, giving Dick a pleasant smile as he handed him the evening paper.
“Dick’s in the kitchen again?” said Jane. Her heart was breaking at the sight of her cuckold husband scurrying about the kitchen, making breakfast in her apron. How could she tell him she had developed a fetish for sucking her son’s cock? In her shame, she couldn’t even look at her husband, knowing as soon as he left, she would be on her knees.
“It’s nothing, my dear. I saw a recipe in the newspaper yesterday and thought I would spoil you a little more,” Dick said, handing his wife her tainted cup.
Jane stopped talking mid-sentence, just like before. Dick looked at her glassy eyes and relished the rare power he had over his wife.
“Jane dear, I told you a cock is like a sausage and you absolutely love sausage. You can’t get enough sausage. Ok, that came out wrong. I am trying to get you to open your mind. Um, expand your horizons. I don’t want you to feel dirty, or guilty, or taboo,” said Dick. “Your favorite way, no, a fun way, um, a way that you really, really love to get your lover’s sausage, is to butter it up and shove it past your big ripe tomatoes.”
Jane didn’t really focus on Dick shoving the greasy sausage between the two tomatoes. “Just shove it in,” Dick said. “You will do anything to get that big buttery surprise!”
“Dad, what are you doing, man?” asked Ricky.
“Fuck, Ricky!” Dick jumped up straight. Tomatoes and buttered sausage went flying across the table, and his face instantly turned bright red. “Oh, this is not what it looks like, son. I was just showing your mom a new recipe idea that I found in the paper. You know what? I um, I am running late. I have got to go. This is just not what it looks like. I have to go!”
Dick was so agitated at Rick’s arrival he failed to notice his son’s erection. If Dick had ever actually looked at his son and his wife, there would have been no denying that something was amiss. No innocent boy would so brazenly take such liberties with a woman, especially his own mother.
Ricky wasted no time stripping off his boxers for his mom. The swinging and swaying of Ricky’s throbbing and bobbing cock mesmerized Jane. She never even looked up at her son.
“I missed you,” said Jane to Ricky’s cock.
Ricky drank a big gulp from his mother’s coffee cup and soon he had to steady himself with both hands.
“I make you get all weak in the knees. You’re my little plaything to do with as I please,” Jane said to her son.
Ricky nodded listlessly as she stroked his cock.
Jane snatched a handful of soft margarine from the tub and slathered it between her breasts.
“I want my buttery surprise,” she said, wrapping her boobs around Ricky’s dick, making quite an impression on his malleable young mind. “You love looking at your cock between my big tits.”
All Ricky could do was manage a goofy smile before falling over backwards on top of the warm food. It was the funniest thing Jane had ever seen. She laughed out loud, pumping Ricky’s well buttered boner with glee. “That’s my boy!” she giggled. “You’re going to be a good boy and do whatever mommy says.”
Ricky half consciously nodded.
As an anesthetic, a reduction of sensation was the drug’s primary effect. While Ricky enjoyed her efforts tremendously, he wasn’t able to orgasm from a boob-job. Jane grew weary, pumping her son’s amazing meat.
“Just lay still, honey. Mommy’s got a plan,” she said, mounting Ricky. “Now you are going to let mommy do anything she wants, and she will always take care of you.” To drive home the point, Jane impaled herself on his dick. For what seemed like an eternity, mother and son delighted in the sensations of sex.
From Ricky’s point of view, he awoke from the intoxicating haze to see his mother’s shiny butter covered boobs bounding and slapping just over his nose. She clawed at his flesh, spasmodically thrusting her body against his. She pulled his long hair while she trembled and shook. Ricky felt the muscles of his mother’s pussy gripping and clenching around his teenage cock. With one simple sound, a deep and resonating “UGH!” Ricky shot his load deep inside his mother.
The sound snapped Jane out of her rapture with just enough time to utter, “No Ricky, don’t!” She received the first blast of his orgasm, erupting inside her undulating vagina. Her attempts to get off her son failed miserably on the slippery table, letting him fill her with his cum.
“Oh, my god Ricky, what have I done?” she said, running to the bathroom.
Rick went to school, smelling of his mother’s sex and covered with margarine.
That was the beginning of a very busy three weeks for Jane. She rationalized Ricky was her lover and she should receive her lover’s buttery surprise as much as possible. She literally went running to Ricky whenever she saw him.
Ricky broke up with Peggy. A teenage girl can’t compare to a young man’s mother. Especially when they are rutting like wild animals in heat. Jane gnawed on her lower lip whenever she saw her son. She looked at him for only a moment before tackling Ricky and fucking him senseless where he stood. If Dick might come home, they would dart out to the back room for a more private rendezvous, shedding their clothes as they went.
What could go wrong?
“Hi Jane, what brings you in?” asked Peter Logan, smiling behind his spotless horn-rimmed bifocals.
“Oh, I am fine. Yes, I am fine. Okay, I’m not fine. I am looking for… Oh dear, I should go.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?”
“Oh my word, I am losing my mind. I am going to have to go see Doc Campbell.”
“This sounds serious.”
“Can I talk to you alone? As a pharmacist, is it possible, I mean, is there a pill you can take you know um, after?”
“You can always talk to me. You’re just like a daughter to me, but I need more information after what, exactly?”
“Please don’t make me say it.”
“Perhaps you would feel more comfortable discussing this in private? Let’s go to the back office,” said Peter, leading Jane to a small cluttered office where an antique desk sported a new electric adding machine and a telephone. “Do you think you could give me more details?” said Peter, feeling his cock twitch.
“Oh Peter, give me your word not as a professional, but as a friend.”
“Sure, your secrets are safe with me,” Peter said, and smiled.
“Ok, here goes. I may be pregnant, and Dick is not the father. Please don’t think badly of me, Peter. I really need help.”
Jane broke out in tears.
“How did that happen, exactly?”
“What?”
“Jane, I want to know exactly how that happened because there’s only one kind of woman that would get pregnant by someone other than her husband.”
“Peter?”
“Don’t deny it, Jane. Only a worthless slut, a filthy whore, would cheat on her husband, wouldn’t she, Jane? So what does that make you? You just want cock no matter where it comes from, isn’t that right? You’re a real piece of work, Jane. Now say it. Say it! I want to hear you say it. I want to hear you tell me exactly what you are.”
Jane fell to her knees, sobbing.
Peter had the beautiful mother kneeling before him. He could see her plump tits jiggle. Only a few moments separated him from defiling the helpless woman. He undid his pants to expose his half-hard erection.
Jane licked her perfect lips a few inches away. She slowly opened her mouth.
“Do it, you know you want—”
“Peter! Peter!” said Marguerite, yelling from outside.
Peter had enough time to close his lab coat and help Jane to her feet before his wife burst through the door. “Peter, what is going on in here?” said Marguerite. Her thick French accent made her voice sound like the song of a bird.
The two looked suspicious, with Peter’s back to the door, and Jane focused on Peter’s crotch.
“Marguerite, dear, this is a professional consultation and Jane is an old family friend,” said Peter nervously. He knew she had caught him. Thinking fast, Peter added, “Maybe girl talk would be best? Jane, if you don’t feel comfortable discussing this with me? Perhaps you would prefer to talk to Marguerite?”
Fortunately for Peter, his erection fell like a wounded soldier and Marguerite missed seeing the embarrassing evidence as Peter turned to leave. Trusting that Jane wouldn’t tell his wife about his indiscretion, he made for the door.
Marguerite could see that Jane was genuinely in a panic. “Oui, mon Chéri, you must tell Marguerite,” she cooed into Jane’s ear. “This is no place for greasy swine!”
Marguerite, a very sensual and emotive woman, swooped in close to hold Jane in her delicate arms. Her dark eyes, beneath her straight black hair, sparkled with curiosity. “Oh, Mon Chéri, what has upset you so?”
“Marguerite, you can’t tell a soul. I cheated on Dick,” said Jane in tears.
“Hmm, younger or older?” asked Marguerite, with a certain hunger in her voice.
“Oh, he is much younger,” Jane said dreamily. The streaks of her tears ran down her face.
“You did good with this one, oui?”
At Jane’s blank stare, Marguerite rephrased her question. “This boy, non, this young man, oui? He is good? Um, ah, he makes you feel in love?” Marguerite said with a smile, pleased that she finally got through.
“He does. Oh, he does! I am so in love, and it’s so wrong.” Jane cried on Marguerite’s shoulders.
Marguerite grabbed the younger woman and held her up straight. “Right, wrong, who cares about these things? Mon Chéri, I have seen that there is no right, no wrong. There is only today, and today we must live!” Marguerite said with a flourish, thrusting her finger up toward the ceiling. “If this young one gives you joy, then take it. Take it and be glad that you have this moment for joy.”
Jane was stunned by the older woman’s zeal. Marguerite’s words had given Jane permission to enjoy not only her affair with her son but to take on the world. Jane then pulled Marguerite’s ear close to her mouth and in a tight embrace, she whispered softly, “I might be pregnant by another man.”
“No, no, non, you will not. Come with me now!” As Marguerite opened the door of the tiny room, she took time to marvel at Jane’s body as it passed by. Marguerite didn’t try to attract women, but she was very open-minded. A nice evening of erotic pleasure holding Jane close was an interesting idea.
From behind the tall counter, Peter silently shrank inside his skin. Marguerite was holding Jane close as they approached. She gave Jane a motherly kiss on the cheek before turning to her husband. Marguerite shot daggers from her eyes at him and said, “Peter, give me the pills. Give me the pills now!”
“Yes dear,” said Peter. He knew if Jane hadn’t told on him by now, he didn’t want to give her a reason. He scampered back to the shelves of medications. “Okay,” said Peter, nervously blowing into his cheeks. “Jane, take these two pills with food every day for the next seven days. You will probably get sick to your stomach and you will have a very heavy menstrual cycle.”
“And?” asked Marguerite.
Peter sheepishly looked at his wife and went back to the shelves. “And, after that, you will switch to these pills, one each day, and you don’t have to worry about pregnancy again.”
“C’est Bon,” said Marguerite.
“I’m not allowed to… I mean Dick won’t let me… -sigh- I don’t have any money,” said Jane.
“Free for a close family friend,” said Peter.
Jane’s thoughts were still on Peter’s cock. She was constantly hungry for cock, except for her husband’s. If Marguerite had not happened along, she would still be on her knees in the backroom. Jane bit down on her lower lip.
Marguerite misread Jane’s distress. “Take your things and run out of here, darling. I know this man. He is a swine!”
Marguerite waited until Jane had left and the door had closed behind her. “Swine!” she barked at Peter on her return to the lunch counter.
With Ricky as her guide and interpreter, Jane became a righteous momma of the free love movement armed with Marguerite’s live for the moment philosophy and birth control pills. Dozens of young virile men pursued her, and she ravished them all. As a result, Ricky found himself surrounded by just as many young women, each wishing to experience the man that had the company of such a refined, mature, and outgoing lover.
Ricky was never worried about Jane, as long as the sex she was having was the sex she wanted, and Jane had lots of sex. Ricky calculated, on a Saturday at Three Rivers Park, that his mother had drunk enough cum to fill a cola bottle. Even with their crazy lifestyle, Ricky and Jane always woke up together, in flophouses, beat up vans, and once in a makeshift commune. This, however, left little time for a home life.
“Damn it Peter! Those drops were a curse! Since I’ve used them, my wife doesn’t even come home anymore, and neither does Ricky! I did just like you said. I put two drops in her drink. Now she’s all dressed in tie dye, got flowers in her hair, and she doesn’t come home for days at a time! Personally, I think Jane needs a lot more than two drops.”
“If you see Jane again, try giving her the drops one more time. Tell her she should forget about the whole affair.” Peter’s voice squeaked when he said affair. Fortunately, Dick wasn’t the kind of man that could pick up on subtle clues or he would have been a raving lunatic about his own son fucking his wife.
“Peter, you should have seen her. She’s more uninterested in me now than before.”
“Trust me, Dick, tell her to stay home or you’ll lose her.”
Four days later, Jane and Ricky dropped by to get a few things and have a bite to eat. Unsure if Jane would stay until breakfast, Dick made her coffee that night. In seconds, Jane was in a trance.
“Hi Jane,” Dick said. “You have had a good time, and now it’s time to come home. I want you to stay at the house and be Mrs. Dick Edwards, like before. I want you to dress like you used to and act like you used to. Jane, I miss you. Please, Jane, forget about the whole affair. The only affairs that you have should be under this roof.”
Dick didn’t wait for Jane to wake. He went to bed alone.
Ricky went to find his mom so they could go out to the park for a free concert. It surprised him to see his mother in her old housecoat. “What’s with the threads, momma?” Ricky said, drinking from his mother’s coffee cup.
“We have to stay with Dick like before and we have to dress like before. We have to forget about the whole affair.”
“What all of it?” Ricky said, sinking to his knees, and then lying on the floor.
“Yes, baby, all of it. The only affairs we can have are the ones under this roof. Can you dig it?” said Jane, putting her pussy in his mouth by straddling Ricky’s face. “Now sock it to me, baby.”