Marsha Jones took a look at herself in the mirror and liked what she saw. Her short, clingy dress fell several inches above her knees, showing off a lot of toned bare leg. She twirled and noticed the dress fly up, showing off her tiny thong. The top of the dress was little more than two straps that crisscrossed over her chest before coming together behind her neck, leaving her back fully exposed. Of course, she wore no bra.

Yes, she thought, this would be perfect for what she had in mind. She smiled and headed downstairs, where her husband, Mike sat. He saw her come down and gave out a wolf whistle.

“You look good enough to eat,” he said. “Where are we going?”

“WE aren’t going anywhere,” she said. “I’m going out with Linda for a bit of fun, now that things are opening up. I may be a bit late tonight, so don’t bother waiting up. There’s some leftover meatloaf in the fridge and I bought you a six pack of beer.” He looked crestfallen as she spoke.

“But it’s been so long since we’ve been able to do anything,” he said. “Are you going to...”

“What, pick up some guys and fuck them?” she asked. “Probably. But remember, it’s only sex, and it doesn’t change anything between us. Just because I fuck some other guys from time to time doesn’t mean I love you any less. Besides, I’ve been taking my pills and my STD blockers, so I won’t bring anything back except maybe a pussy full of cum for you to clean up later,” she said with a slight giggle.

“Well, I’d better get going. See ya. Bye,” she said as she whirled out the door, blowing him a kiss.

Devastated, Mike sat back and shook his head. It was times like this he wished he had never married Marsha. Yeah, he loved her, but he secretly hated this whole “New Morality” thing that swept the country a couple decades ago. Because of it, adultery was considered the “new normal” and husbands like him were expected to be good cuckolds these days.

He especially hated it when she would go out and get laid, then expect him to clean her pussy with his tongue. So far, he had refused, telling her she needed to douche, bathe and get tested first before he’d even touch her. Of course, that would always make her mad, but he didn’t care. To him, it was sick, degrading and disgusting.

“Your mother ever did anything like that to me back in the day, she’d be out on her ass,” his father told him some time back as they sat out at the lake with a beer and a fishing pole.

“Yeah, well, these days, expecting fidelity from your spouse is considered grounds for divorce,” he told his father. “I know because I asked a couple lawyers about it. It sucks, believe me.”

“I don’t know how you put up with it, son,” his father said. Mike’s thoughts came back to the present. They had both been locked down for some time because of the pandemic, and he understood her need to get out and blow off some steam, now that the initial lock-down was over. But he needed some release as well, dammit.

He grabbed a beer and a slice of cold meatloaf, then sat back down on the couch and watched television. A part of him hoped she got the mother of all STDs, despite taking her blockers.

Meanwhile, Marsha and Linda met at their favorite club and looked around at the fresh meat. Marsha spotted a tall, good-looking muscular man making the rounds and decided he would be her first conquest of the night. A part of her felt guilty – after all, she really did love her husband.

But she felt that she deserved some strange cock after being stuck in the house with her husband for so long. She reached under her tiny skirt and pulled her thong down her legs. Stepping out of it, she stuffed it in her purse.

“What are you doing, girl?” Linda, asked.

“I just spotted my first target, and I’m going for it,” Marsha said.

“What, you gonna do him right there on the dance floor?” Linda asked.

“Why not?” Marsha asked with a wicked grin. “Wanna join me?”

“What the hell,” Linda said. “Let’s go get some.” They sashayed out to the floor and introduced themselves to the man, who said his name was Jake. Marsha looked at his crotch and smiled as she ran her hand over the front of his pants.

“Wanna ... dance?” she asked in a sultry voice. Jake smiled and took her in his arms. Soon, the two of them were dancing with wild abandon, his hands all over her ass. As they danced closer, she unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. She loved the way it felt in her hands and noticed it was bigger and thicker than Mike’s.

“Fuck me,” she whispered in his ear. He looked at her, shocked.

“Right here?” he asked.

“Why not?” she asked in response, lifting her skirt so he could see her shaved pussy. He smiled and pulled her close to him. She wrapped one leg around him and guided his cock inside her. He fucked her standing up as others danced around them, watching the action.

“Oh God, yes,” she moaned. “Fuck my pussy. Cum inside me, dammit.” He pounded into her as she moaned and writhed. She reached up and unsnapped the material at the back of her neck, letting the dress fall open to reveal her B-cup breasts. The others around them began applauding as Jake pounded into her harder, eventually filling her with his first load.

She spread her legs wide as he laid her on a nearby empty table. Pulling her dress off, she beckoned for other men to join them, which they did. Linda and a couple girls got in the action as well, and were joined by several men, eager to get into some willing pussy.

Both Marsha and Linda had been made airtight several times that night, and even sampled each other’s wares, but both felt a fire between their legs that could only be put out with more cock. They sucked and fucked several men, often taking two or even three at a time, letting them deposit their goo inside their eager bodies. They didn’t even mind that some of the guys took video with their phones.

By the time the night was over, the two girls had been fucked more times than they could recall, and their bodies were drenched with cum. They looked around and found their dresses, then slipped them on before they left.

By the time Linda got home, it was after 2:00 in the morning. She was still leaking cum from her pussy, but she didn’t care. She thought it strange that she still felt horny even after getting fucked so many times at the club. She rubbed herself and figured she’d give Mike a nice sloppy fuck after he cleaned her out.

She was surprised to see Mike still in his recliner, the television playing an old movie. She figured he would’ve gone to bed by now. He looked at her and shook his head.

“You look like shit, woman,” he said. “And you reek. Take a hot shower and sleep in the guest bed. Stay the fuck away from me.”

“What, am I too much woman for you to handle?” she snapped. “Here I am ready for you to fuck and you turn your back on me and expect me to sleep in the guest bedroom.”

“It’s either there or on the street,” Mike said calmly. “Make your choice.” She stood there fuming for a couple minutes and decided the guest bedroom would have to do. Fuck him if couldn’t handle her. She staggered up the stairs and went into the bathroom. That’s when she noticed all the marks on her body and the dried cum on her face and in her hair.

She looked down at the rest of her body in the mirror and realized there was cum still dripping down her legs and her pussy was red and swollen. No wonder Mike was turned off, she thought to herself. I would be too if I saw this walking in the door. She stepped in the shower and cleaned herself as much as she could. She dried herself off, put her robe on and laid down in the guest bedroom. Mike didn’t even acknowledge her or tell her goodnight. He just closed the master bedroom door.

He woke up at 9:00 and chided himself for sleeping so late. Today was Saturday and he had things to do. He got up and checked on Marsha. Seeing she was still asleep, he went downstairs and grabbed some cereal, then headed to the garage. He mowed and edged the yard, then raked up the grass and stuffed it all into trash bags. By then, it was after 1:00 pm and he was a bit hungry.

He went upstairs to clean up and noticed Marsha was still asleep. It wasn’t like her to sleep this long, he thought, and he was getting a bit concerned. He looked her over and took note of the bruises and marks on her body. She must’ve had one hell of a party, he thought to himself. Shaking his head, he went into the master bedroom, took a shower, then went downstairs and grabbed a sandwich.

He watched a movie on television, then glanced at the clock and noticed it was already 4:30 in the afternoon. He headed upstairs to check on Marsha and saw that she was finally starting to stir. He saw the beads of sweat on her forehead and wondered if she was too hot. She looked at him for a moment before speaking.

“Mike, I’m sorry, I don’t feel so good,” she croaked.

“I’m not surprised,” he said. “You dragged your ass in here about 2:30 in the morning looking like hell. How many men did you fuck last night?”

“I don’t know,” she said weakly. “I lost count.” He snorted and shook his head.

“You’re not looking too good,” he said. “Maybe I’d better check your temperature. Hang on.” He went to the master bathroom and came back with their no-touch forehead thermometer. He did a scan and looked at the readout, shocked. He tried again and got the same result: 103.5 degrees Fahrenheit. He knew this was dangerously high and called 911. The dispatcher said an ambulance would be there as soon as possible. He went back into the bedroom.

“I’ve called an ambulance,” he said. “Can you get dressed?” She moved slightly and tried to sit up, but had a difficult time.

“I don’t know,” she said. “I feel so weak and cold.” Mike nodded his head.

“Alright,” he said. “Let me go get something to put on you.” He went into the master bedroom and grabbed a clean pair of panties, jeans and a sweat shirt. He went back to Marsha and helped her sit up, then slid the panties up her legs. That’s when he noticed a yellowish discharge from her vagina. The odor nearly made him sick, so he went back to the master bathroom, grabbed a face mask and put it on.

“What’s the matter?” she asked.

“You stink,” he said, causing her to start crying.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I washed as good as I could.” He said nothing and continued helping her into her clothes. By then, the ambulance had arrived and he ushered the paramedics into the room, telling them what he had observed. He thought it a bit odd they all wore fresh air suits.

“Have you had sex with her since she came back last night?” one of the paramedics asked. Mike shook his head.

“No,” he said. “I haven’t.”

“Okay,” he said. “I have to advise you not to touch her. You’ll also need to be tested since you were close to her. Whatever she wore last night and whatever she used or laid on in bed needs to be burned. Do you understand?”

“Yeah,” Mike said. “Is she going to be okay?”

“We’ll take her to County General. They’ll do everything they can,” the paramedic said. “Don’t be surprised if they don’t let you see her for a couple days.” They put her on a gurney, took her downstairs and loaded her into the ambulance. By then, she was unconscious.

He locked up the house and followed them to the hospital, where he gave his insurance information and signed all the necessary forms. They kept her in an enclosed area and wouldn’t let anyone near her unless they wore the fresh air suits. A nurse came out and administered a test. Some time later, they told him he tested negative for COVID.

He didn’t know it then, but that would be the last time he would see her alive. She passed away three days later, along with her friend, Linda, and several others who were at the club that Friday night.

...

Barbara Cassidy pulled her phone from her purse and looked at the screen before answering. What the hell do they want now, she asked herself. Couldn’t they leave her alone just one night? Especially tonight, her 20th wedding anniversary. She gave her husband an exasperated look and answered the phone.

“Cassidy,” she said when she answered.

“Barb, I’m sorry to call you like this, but we need you to come in, right away,” said the man on the other end of the call. She knew who it was – Ron Black, the man in charge of the team she was now a part of. He was put in charge of the team and was working on what some thought might be a new mutation of the coronavirus that had spread around the world.

“Tonight?” she asked. “My husband and I are out to dinner, Ron. We’re celebrating our twentieth anniversary. Can’t this wait until tomorrow morning?”

“No, Barb, it can’t,” he said. “This takes priority. I can’t explain over the phone. I just need you to get in here, now.” She put her head in her hands, took a few deep breaths and counted to ten. She could only hope her husband would understand. This was the first time they had even been able to go out since the lock-downs had started lifting and she was determined not to let their anniversary get screwed up.

“This had better be earth-shattering,” she told him.

“It very well could be,” he said. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have called you.”

“Okay,” she said. “But I’m finishing my surf and turf first.”

“I understand, Barb,” Ron said. “Don’t wait too long, though.” He ended the call and she put her phone back into her purse.

“Work, again?” her husband, Mark, asked. She nodded her head.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m sorry. I can’t believe they’d call me in on our anniversary like this.”

“What’s going on this time?” he asked. She shook her head.

“I don’t know,” she said. “My boss just said I needed to get back in.”

“Damn,” he said. “So much for our anniversary.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” she said. “I know you had big plans for us and I was looking forward to celebrating tonight. Think we can do something this weekend?”

“I guess,” he said. “Dammit, it seems like they have you coming in all the time these days. What the hell’s going on?”

“I honestly don’t know,” she said. “And you know that even if I did, I couldn’t tell you.”

“I know,” he said. Ever since she had been assigned to this new CDC team, it seemed she was constantly being called up at the most inopportune times. Worse yet, she would often get sent on trips out of the area or even out of the country at a moment’s notice. Mark was proud of his wife’s accomplishments, even though it wasn’t easy being married to one of, if the, most sought-after virologist in the country.

But after 20 years of marriage, he learned to live with it, even though he didn’t like seeing her getting sent away so often. The one consolation was that he knew her to be a woman of integrity. He never worried about her going off the rails and falling in bed with some slick-talking asshole. She just wasn’t wired that way and she had no use for what had become known as the “New Morality.” Many of her colleagues had told him over the years how lucky he was to be married to someone so faithful.

He also understood the need for secrecy in her work. If word ever got out about some of what she had investigated, it could cause a major panic.

They finished their steak and lobster dinner, paid the bill and prepared to leave. Mark, always the gentleman, helped Barbara with her coat and walked with her to the car. Even though they had been married 20 years, he still caught himself staring at her lovely form. She had kept herself in great shape, even after giving birth to two wonderful children, now in college, and the sight of her often aroused him.

After they got home, she changed into a pair of jeans and a blouse as Mark made a pot of coffee. He knew she would need a cup to help get her through the night. She came back down, grabbed a cup of coffee, then kissed her husband.

“I’m so sorry for this, baby,” she said. “I’ll make it up to you, promise.”

“I know you will,” he said. “Just go and save us all from the latest mutation of whatever it is Ron found out about. Give me a call when you’re on your way back, though, okay?”

“I will,” she said. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you more,” he said. He watched as she left, then went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed.

...

Barbara had her ID badge in her hand when she pulled up to the security gate. Rolling down her window, she flashed the badge for the military policeman who looked at, then at her, just to make sure the photo matched the person driving the car. After verifying her identity, he waved her inside and closed the gate behind her.

She saw a small cluster of cars in the area where she normally parked and knew something serious was going on. After pulling into her assigned slot, she went inside and found a flurry of activity. Looking around, she saw her boss, Ron Black, talking with one of the lab technicians. She walked up to him.

“Good evening, Barb,” he said. “Glad you could make it in.”

“Dammit, Ron, there had better be a good reason to call me in from my anniversary dinner,” she said. “Otherwise I’m going to find a REAL batleth and cut your nuts off.” She knew he and his wife were into Star Trek, spoke Klingon and often attended conventions dressed as members of the fictional warrior race.

“I’m sorry, Barb, it couldn’t be helped,” he said. “Take a look at this,” he added, walking into a room filled with monitors. Pulling out a tablet, he slung a large photo on to one of the large main monitors on the wall. “What do you make of this?”

“It looks like a textbook photo of COVID-19,” she said. “Nothing that we haven’t seen a million times before. Hell, there’s some companies using it for a goddamn logo nowadays. You called me in for THIS?”

“Take a closer look,” he said, pointing to some unusual formations on the virus body. She squinted her eyes to get a better look. She shook her head.

“What is that?” she asked.

“No idea,” Ron said.

“Is this a new strain of the virus?” she asked.

“It appears to be that new strain some have been talking about,” Ron said. “Technically, it’s been designated COVID-1984. Some of the techs have started calling it the Orwell Virus. They’re doing a full analysis of it now.”

“Any idea where it came from?” she asked.

“No,” Ron said. “We’re efforting that even as we speak, but we have seen a few hot spots in some major cities and I’m more than little bit concerned.”

“Would you care to elaborate on that a bit?” she asked.

“This was found in the liver, kidneys and reproductive organs of several patients who recently died from the virus,” Ron said. “Unfortunately, none of the standard treatments helped.”

“How did it get into the reproductive organs?” Barbara asked.

“That’s what I need you to find out,” Ron said. “My guess is that it was sexually transmitted.”

“What?” she asked.

“Take a closer look at the slide,” he said. She looked closer and her brow furrowed as she did.

“Is that semen?” she asked. Ron nodded his head.

“Yes,” he said. “There’s been concern that the virus could be detected either in the testis or in seminal fluid. Some of us have been pushing for more research in that area, but the higher-ups have been reluctant to even broach the subject. It’s something of a moot point now, with this new outbreak.”

“But what could cause a mutation like this?” she asked. Ron shrugged his shoulders.

“Many things,” he said. “My guess, based on what I’ve seen so far in our analysis, would be STD blockers. Everyone in this outbreak was found to be using them, and were found to be very sexually active. We have yet to find a case where this happened to someone not on the blockers. But that’s just a guess. I need you to help me confirm that hypothesis. And I’ll need you to help find a treatment. Fast.”

“That bad?” Barbara asked.

“I’m afraid so,” he said. “I’ll be going to Washington for a bit. I have a meeting with the president. She’s putting together a task force to address this new outbreak. Think you can handle this?”

“I think so,” she said.

“Good,” he said. “Make sure you take all the necessary precautions. By the way, are you or your husband taking the blockers?” She shook her head.

“No,” she said. “My husband and I are in a strictly monogamous relationship. We chose to not go on the blockers years ago.”

“Even better,” he said. “I’ll be in touch. Let me know the moment you find something.”

...

Ron sat in his first-class seat on the airplane, wearing his face mask like everyone else, poring over the data in his reports. He was very concerned with what he saw. He went back over the data a second time to confirm his suspicions and hoped the president would listen to what he had to say.

He sat back and closed his eyes, formulating his argument in his mind. He knew he had to frame it very carefully, considering that she often listened to her scientific advisor, Dr. Steven Foltz. He knew Steve as the two attended MIT together years ago as he pursued his second doctorate.

He recalled that Steve was somewhat arrogant and had a tendency to say what he thought his audience wanted to hear. He also knew that Steve was the driving force behind the president’s national mask mandate, even though he originally argued against it. He hoped Steve could set his personal feelings and ambition aside and pay attention to the actual science for a change.

When the plane landed, he was met by a driver who had been sent by the White House to collect him. He was mildly surprised and halfway expected that he would have been forced to pay for a taxi out of his own pocket. The driver took his bags and opened the back door of the car for him. After arriving at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, he was escorted by Secret Service agents to the Oval Office.

He didn’t quite know what to expect from the president, and steeled himself for the encounter. He had read a number of stories about her – many not very flattering – and mentally prepared himself. He knew she was a former First Lady before serving in the Senate and spent time as the Secretary of State.

“The president will see you now, Dr. Black,” a young woman told him, snapping him out of his thoughts. He nodded his head in acknowledgment.

“Thank you,” he said. Picking up his briefcase, he followed her to the door of the Oval Office and was ushered inside. He was met by a somewhat short, older woman wearing her trademark pantsuit. Her makeup did little to hide the wrinkles in her face, and he estimated her height at just under five and a half feet tall. She smiled as she extended her hand in greeting, but he felt no warmth in her smile. He accepted her hand in a professional manner.

“Dr. Black, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you,” she said.

“Madam President, it’s an honor to meet you,” Ron said. She motioned to Steve, who also held out his hand.

“I’m sure you know Dr. Steven Foltz,” she said.

“Yes, ma’am, Dr. Foltz and I spent some time at MIT together,” Ron said as he shook Steve’s hand.

“Good to see you again, Ron,” Steve said with a smile.

“Likewise,” Ron said.

“So, I’m told you’re pretty much the smartest man on the planet when it comes to these kinds of issues,” the president said.

“Thank you, Madam President,” Ron said, glancing at Steve, who simply smiled. “I try my best.”

“No need to be coy, Dr. Black,” the president said. “Please, have a seat,” she added, motioning to one of the chairs in front of her desk. He sat where she indicated and opened his briefcase. “So, what can you tell us about this latest outbreak?”

“The research is ongoing, but I can tell you the virus has mutated,” Ron said, pulling two folders from his briefcase. He handed one to Steve and the other to the president. Steve shrugged his shoulders.

“Viruses mutate all the time, Ron, you know that,” Steve said, adjusting his wireframe glasses to read the report.

“Not like this, I’m afraid,” Ron said.

“Oh?” the president asked. “What makes this mutation so special?”

“This particular mutation is spread through sexual activity,” Ron said, causing the other two to look at him in shock.

“Are you saying this has become a sexually-transmitted disease?” Steve asked. Ron nodded his head.

“I am,” he said.

“But how is that possible?” Steve asked.

“As you know, I’ve suspected for some time that this virus could cross various sexual barriers and remain viable in semen,” Ron said. “Unfortunately, our efforts to research that have been stymied, mostly by your friends at the World Health Organization.”

“Crossing barriers is one thing, but saying that’s related to a mutation is something else entirely,” Steve said. “There’s absolutely no evidence to suggest that’s even possible.”

“There is now,” Ron said, pointing to the folder. “It’s in your hands.”

“Break it down for me, Dr. Black,” the president said, shooting an angry glare at Steve.

“In the latest outbreak, the mutated virus was found in seminal fluid that had been, er, deposited, in each of the female victims,” Ron said. “Autopsies of the males found an abundance of the mutated strain in the testis as well.”

“Do you have any idea how this mutation happened?” the president asked.

“Our preliminary analysis indicates that the federally-mandated STD blockers played a significant role in that mutation,” Ron said. “All of the victims were found to be long-time users of the blockers and were known to be very sexually active.”

“Terrific,” the president said, exasperated.

“I should also note that this is a very fast-acting virus,” Ron said. “On average, only about 12 hours elapsed from exposure to the initial onset of symptoms. Each of the victims died about 72 hours later. None of the standard treatments seemed to work on any of them.”

“Are you saying there’s no treatment for this?” the president asked. Ron shook his head.

“No ma’am,” he said. “Our tests suggest that hydroxychloroquine, if administered early enough, could have made a difference, but there’s a very short window for that. Generally speaking, by the time the patient starts showing symptoms, it’s too late.”

“So what do you suggest?” the president asked.

“First off, the STD blocker mandate needs to be lifted in my opinion, since that what seems to be driving this mutation,” Ron said. “The second thing I would suggest is a bit harder, and it’ll be very difficult to enforce.”

“What’s that?” she asked.

“I’m thinking we should encourage people to take a voluntary moratorium on sexual activity,” Ron said. “At least until we get this under control or can develop a suitable vaccine.” Steve and the president looked shocked. This would fly in the face of a well-known statement he had made during an interview in which he suggested one-night stands would be okay during a previous lock-down.

“Are you serious?” Steve asked. Ron nodded his head.

“I’m afraid so,” Ron said.

“And how would you suggest such a moratorium be enforced?” Steve asked sarcastically. Ron shrugged his shoulders and looked at the president.

“Well, we have a mask mandate,” Ron began. “The president has the bully pulpit. Maybe she should encourage people to abstain. Surely they would listen to her.” The president looked deep in thought as she stared at her desk, her lips pursed. She looked up at Ron before speaking.

“What are we talking about in terms of casualties in case this blows up?” she asked.

“Worst-case models we have suggest tens of millions infected within a matter of six weeks, and as many as 5,000,000 deaths,” he said.

“Damn. How long would it take to develop a vaccine?” she asked.

“That’s hard to say, ma’am,” he said. “It would require a great deal of testing before it could be approved.”

“Alright,” she said. “We can use the Defense Production Act and get private companies working on it immediately. I can think of a thing or two I think would enforce the mandate. But I’ll need help to convince the public this is necessary. Will you do that?” she asked, looking at Ron. He nodded his head.

“As long as it’s constitutional and the science supports it, yes,” he said. “What do you have in mind, if I may ask.” She smiled, but again, there was very little warmth in it.

“Let’s just say I know a thing or two about enforced sexual deprivation and leave it at that for now, okay?” she asked. Ron shuddered inside at her statement.

“How would you be able to sell it to the public?” he asked. She gave one of her short trademark cackles before answering.

“That’s the easy part,” she said. “Trust me. Look, Dr. Black, I’ll need some time to digest all this and work up a plan. You realize I’m in the middle of a re-election campaign, don’t you?”

“Yes ma’am,” Ron said. “But I’m afraid time is a luxury we don’t have. We need to act on this as fast as we can.”

“Of course,” she said. “I understand that. Just work with me on this, okay? In fact, I’d like you to be part of my task force on this. Would you be willing to do that?”

“Certainly,” Ron said. “I’ll do everything I can.”

“Good,” she said. “Then it’s settled. Continue with your research. Keep me informed through Dr. Foltz. I’ll get things rolling with the defense production act and have the pharmaceutical companies contact you for the details. Is there anything else you need to share?”