Chapter 10

I left and went home with a ‘thank you’ in my ears. I could tell Mrs A was wondering if it had been quite such a good idea to trust in me; but it wasn’t like I did anything they didn’t want – with some chemical prompting. At home, Mum was grumpy. My new found knowledge of female libido suspected she needed to get laid. She needed some release and her hubby wasn’t on the ball enough. Anyway, he’d left it too late; if he tried something now he’d get shredded. I ... no, no that would be entirely wrong. I took a chance, extracted a little of my spray, and soaked dad’s socks in it. He always walked around in his socks, and his feet sweated. If Mum started coming on to me, I’d run; but maybe Dad’s sweat would dominate, especially if the pheromone turned on Mum anyway.

I sat back and watched as she stomped around, annoyed about everything. The toast was too dark, the tea was cold. Dad appeared, grimaced at me. He’d experienced this kind of thing before, he once said ‘time of the month’ out loud, and wished he hadn’t when she launched a verbal assault on him that made Stalingrad seem mild. He was basically to blame for everything from being thrown out of the Garden of Eden onwards. This time, he smiled at her, walked around, drank his tea, munched his toast and tried to get out as soon as possible.

“Danny? I ... I need a chat. Come upstairs.” He looked terrified, what was she going to say? He followed her upstairs like a puppy expecting to be beaten. All went quiet. Then I heard gently bumping noises. I smiled and drank my orange and ate a slice of toast. Half an hour later, it stopped, then a little while later it started again – my Dad was a goer! Or, more probably, Mum was desperated for more, more, more! They reappeared, looking sheepish.

I smiled. “Okay?”

Mum kissed Dad and said “Don’t be back late, lets have a night in. John’s going out.” Which was news to me, but I thought I could make myself scarce. I made some notes for Jerry, I had confirmed that the pheromone turned a female on to a particular male, but it also made the female more erotically activated in general. This was turning into a very interesting drug; could it, for example, be made generic enough to just turn a woman, or women, into temporary nymphomaniacs.

I looked up to see Mum looking at me in a non-motherly way. Dang! I made my excuses and left. I could put up with burying myself into the wobbly fat of my aunt, but fucking my mother was a step too far, even for a degenerate like me. She was actually in pretty good shape for her age (not the way I’d put it out loud, obviously). She wasn’t anywhere near the spread that Aunty Jean was; she and Dad walked ten miles across the countryside quite regularly; she also did Zumba or something – though she thought it was named after a president of South Africa! But still; a man has to have some standards, no, principles, even if they are pretty low. No, Dad could keep her and her new found desire. I wondered what to do and decided to pay a visit to Ang in the shop where she worked – Caroline’s, it was called.

“Hi, Ang, nice shop, very cool.”

“Oh, uhh, hi, John. Not really your kind of place though is it? I mean, it’s all girls’ clothing really.” I smiled at a seventeen year old who was taking a very short skirt in to the changing rooms, she smiled back. “John ... about last night, I mean, I don’t know what came over us all.”

“Me mostly.” I laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, exactly. I’m not usually that easy. It isn’t that I didn’t enjoy it...”

“Oh yes, I think we all did. I think you are a very sexy lady; it’s alright to enjoy sex for the recreation. I have that effect. The girls seemed to enjoy things too. Relax, I never tell anyone about what I get up to. Is that the manager?” A thirty year old woman was looking daggers at me for distracting her staff.

“Yes, she’s the worst thing about this place, she thinks everyone is ripping her off. She’s not the manager, she’s the owner. She is a real dragon, always asking for something to be done just before lunch, nothing is ever right. I’ve nearly resigned three times.”

“I’ll do you a deal. I have to be out of the house tonight, come to the cinema with me – I don’t know what’s on – and ask no questions about the next hour, and I’ll get her out of your hair.”

“Umm ... okay, I think.”

The spray came out, I used it and walked towards the grouchy woman; I had a lacy bra and Ang in tow. “Excuse me, yes, I’m thinking of buying this for my mother. The shop assistant, here, is too small to show it off properly; but you have the kind of tits that would look well in it. Would you mind showing me what it looks like?” Caroline Brown – her nametag said – looked shocked, then horrified, then angry, then she had breathed enough in.

“Of course, but perhaps somewhere more private would be better?” She led me towards the back stairs, to her apartment above the shop.

“Angela, you don’t need to come.” I said

“Oh, I think she does. You’ll need a female opinion and might need female help too. Do you want sexy pants to go with it?” was the owner’s reply. That hadn’t been my intention; but of course Ang was getting hot for me anyway.

“Oh, yes, that would be good.” I replied.

“Angela, go and find some matching pants, in a size 10. You might bring something to try on yourself.” The pheromone had taken over, Caroline was beginning to think what she could do to Ang as well as me.

Ang may not have thought of this when she agreed. I could understand that. She was willing, because she had been breathing the heady scent too. But I was hoping that she might be willing later. When she came back, I decided to let her off the afternoon session. “Ang, you need to leave; I want this woman all to myself. But I want you to think all afternoon about what we are up to. You are NOT to visit the toilets and play with yourself, otherwise there’ll be no sex tonight. Understand? Good.”

Caroline looked saddened. “Are you sure? I mean I’m sure she could help us both...” I made sure Ang left.

“Caroline! May I call you that? I am shocked at you wanting to abuse a young girl like that. You deserve a good spanking. Bend over your desk.” And she did. Not only that, but, unprompted, she pulled up her knee length skirt and pulled down her pants. She wasn’t wearing tights. I spanked her with my hand.

“Here, use this.” she said, and handed me a book. It made very satisfying thuds on her bottom. Before she got too red, I unzipped and fucked. Rough and ready. She groaned her pleasure at being treated like a sex-slut. Just before I came, I pulled out and sprayed her arse.

“Right, stay like that, and piss on your hands and wash your bottom.” She looked at me, put her hands between her legs and peed a double handful. She splashed it on her bottom, but she didn’t stop, a puddle appeared on the floor. I laughed and told her to finish. She stopped. “No, I meant finish having your pee.” The stream continued a little longer, then became intermittent spurts as she squeezed it all out. “You’ve just pissed on your carpet! You deserve another spanking. I’ll just use my hand this time. Oh, and you can pleasure yourself at the same time.”

So, whilst I thwacked her bottom with my hand, she rubbed her cunt with her hand. Pain and pleasure in equal amounts; or nearly equal, she came after ten minutes, so I guess the pleasure overrode the pain. “Now kneel on the damp carpet and lick me clean.” She did it like it was the best thing in the world to kneel in piss-soaked pile and take a floppy dick in her mouth to get rid of the stickiness.

It was then that Ang knocked and came in. She should have waited; she said it was urgent, but I suspect she wanted to see what we were doing. She got a right eyeful, and she had been away from the pheromone long enough to largely recover. “Mrs Brown, I ... oh! Umm, there’s a woman downstairs from Kalibra Fashions, she says she has an appointment.”

She disengaged from my cock and answered: “Oh, heavens, yes! I forgot. Okay, I shall be down soon.” Even that was interesting to the scientist-me. This drug didn’t removal all rational thought like hypnotism is supposed to, she still remembered she had an appointment; what it did was just elevate the sex systems to super-hyper levels. I told Ang to make the woman a coffee and Ang left with a final look at her boss. Caroline didn’t move, and I didn’t suggest she did. I let her finish cleaning me off before helping her up and telling her to dress. You’ll have noticed a trend here, and you’d be right. It is a turn-on to me to think of a woman wearing damp or sticky pants or leaking into them. She brushed her hair and we walked down together. “Sooo sorry, the, umm, interview ran over.”

“You want to employ a man in the shop?” asked the woman, then she started to breath in “Oh, well, why not, he might encourage a few girls to look sexier.” Time to move on, I thought. On the way down the stairs, I had suggested that Mrs Brown let her staff get on with it, and she spend more time planning. I don’t know if the suggestion worked, but apparently she kept out of the way for the rest of the day. Ang told me that she heard a few noises from the office and assumed she should leave her boss to get on with whatever frottage she might be doing to herself. She also said that they had an embarrassing half discussion later. Nothing was said, but it was understood. Ang would say nothing, and her boss wouldn’t be the micro-managing bitch from hell that she was (that was Ang’s description).