Susan holds the test tube up to the light and checks the hash marks against the reddish liquid inside.
As a student assistant in the campus research lab, she shouldn’t really have this. In fact, given that the study into aphrodisiacs and sexual enhancement was being shuttered and the samples were all being destroyed, she really, really shouldn’t have this. But as any enterprising young scientist might do when dollar signs start flashing in front of their eyes, she’d taken the matter into her own hands. She’d stolen a sample and devised the perfect human trial.
“So about half, I guess?” She mumbles to herself, looking down at the notebook open on her desk. With a dark blue pen, she sketches a few numbers to double check the formula and nods. It has to be perfect.
Pushing back from the desk, she listens carefully for sounds from the room next door. Silent.
*Good*, she thinks silently. Her roommate isn’t awake yet. Phase 1 can proceed.
In stocking feet, she carefully opens her door and tiptoes out of her room, then crosses the linoleum floor of the shared common space. Now it’s the refrigerator door, opening slowly and silently. Susan swirls the test tube once more and upends half into the pint container of whole milk. She closes the bottle and lets the door shut. Now for phase 2: observation.
She makes her way over to the old, threadbare couch in the common room and turns on the TV. As if on cue, her roommate”s door swings open.
“Morning,” Denise yawns, stretching carefully.
“Yes. I mean…Good Morning,” Susan chirps, trying desperately to seem nonchalant (and failing miserably).
Denise busies herself with a the coffee machine. “Oh, I hope you don’t mind. Richard is coming over in a little bit. We’re going to go do some stuff today.”
“No, no. That’s fine.” Susan is too busy making mental notes to really engage in the conversation. Denise always takes her coffee with milk, Susan without. Soon Denise would be dosed with a more than ample amount of the most powerful aphrodisiac in existence, and Susan would have all the data.
“Coffee?”
“Yes, please.” Susan answers, almost giddy with excitement.
A few minutes later there’s a knock at the door and Richard walks in. Susan never much cared for her roommate’s boyfriend. He was more than a little arrogant and wore too much cologne (or maybe Axe Body Spray).
“Sup?” Richard nods toward Susan, with his usual eloquence.
Susan turns her attention back to the TV while Denise and Richard have some inane conversation about Taylor Swift or something. They join her on the couch a few minutes later. Susan is delighted to see steaming mugs in both their hands. Denise kindly sits Susan’s coffee on the table next to her.
Susan watches closely. She can tell by the shade that both Richard and Denise are having the milk. She fights the urge to cheer for the extra data point.
Her attention is laser focused on them, every movement, every breathe. Absentmindedly, she picks up her mug and takes a sip. Both exhibit early signs of arousal. Denise’s hand is rubbing Richard’s thigh. Both subjects’ cheeks are flushed red.
Susan’s eyebrow suddenly arches. “Did you put cinnamon in this?”
“What?” Denise turns, as if suddenly realizing that Susan is in fact in the room. “Oh, no. Just coffee and milk.”
Susan’s eyes go wide as she looks down at her cup. It’s not the usual black, but a tan mocha instead.
“Oh no! I forgot you don’t take milk. I’m sorry. Richard was talking to me and I just forgot.” Denise is apologizing, but Susan doesn’t hear her. She’s been dosed.
“Um…ok. Nothing to worry about. I have to to go.” She sets the coffee cup down on the side table and looks around wildly. “I…have diarrhea.” Not the best excuse, but she decides that it’ll have to do. She darts across the living room and disappears back inside her bedroom, leaving a very confused Richard and Denise behind. None of the bedrooms in the dorm have private bathrooms.
Inside her room, Susan paces. With only a mouthful, she’s only ingested a moderate dose. She scribbles a few quick figures on her notebook and decides that the consequences will most likely be minimal.
But then a noise from outside her room yanks her attention back to the moment at hand. Through the thin hollow door, she can hear Denise. Denise is moaning.
Susan puts her ear to the door, and the moans come into sharp relief. Not just moans but heavy breathing.
“What…what if she comes back out?” Denise pants, her breathing heavy and thick.
“Who cares? I’m fucking horny,” Richard snaps back.
There’s a moment of silence before Denise moans a throaty, “Me too.” Then the sounds change. It’s Richard’s breathing that’s growing heavier. The couch squeaks as bodies shift and the sound of kissing reaches through the door.
Susan is trying to make a mental play by play. But her thoughts keep flashing out of the moment as the aphrodisiac courses through her own veins. The sounds of kissing grow wetter, now more akin to sucking. Susan can’t help but lift a hand to her own breast. She has to stifle a moan as she squeezes. Her nipple is swollen and at attention, aching for contact.
She can’t help but wonder about about Richard’s dick. *Is it big?* She bets it’s big. Big and thick, and very hard. The rhythmic sounds make Susan’s mouth water. *For what? To suck Richard’s big hard cock herself?*
“You like sucking my cock, baby?” Richard asks.
Susan almost moans the word “yes” but catches herself at the last second. Denise answers instead, ”I fucking love it. But I need you to fuck me.”
It’s over for Susan as the couch groans in protest again. She wishes she were Denise right now. Wishes that she were the one bending over the arm of the couch or lying back on the old plaid cushions or climbing atop Richard to straddle his monster cock. However, wherever, she wishes it were her.
Her hand is in her pajama pants now, two fingers slipping past her slick lips and into her hole. She can’t help but time her self-stroking to the rhythms she hears through the door. In and out. In and out. Faster and faster. Each time the slap of flesh echos out, Susan’s palm is flush against her mound, her fingers buried as deep as they can reach and the soft pad below her thumb pressed firmly against her clit.
Denise calls out, “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me.” in a high pitched squeal. She sounds like the oar master chanting the cadence on a pornographic galleon.
In answer, Richard repeats of litany of phrases he probably picked up from internet porn.
“You like my big dick?”
“Who owns this pussy?”
“You’re pussy is so fucking tight!”
It’s embarrassing to admit, but Susan’s brain latches onto his words.
“I love your big dick,” She moans. “You own my tight pussy.”
She’s not so much standing behind the door as leaning on it. Her face pressed against the cheap wood and her ass poked out. If she had a toy or a real mean nearby, she’d be filling herself with that, but instead, she fucks herself with her own small fingers. She races to the edge even as the thumping from outside her room grows more and more urgent.
Denise and Richard grunt together, signalling their finale. Richard adds something about Denise taking it all, but Susan can’t really hear. She’s in the throws of her own orgasm, and her free hand has to cover her mouth to keep her moans to a minimum. Her muscles lock and then spasm. Thank God for the door or she’d be a twitching heap collapsed on the rough bedroom carpet.
In the living room, Denise and Richard give sighs of exhaustion, then pull apart in a waterfall of fluid. They make their way to the shower together. Inside her bedroom, Susan sits on the floor with her back against the door. Her eyes are still teary from the intensity of her orgasm.
As the shower starts, Denise and Richard shrug off their sudden tryst. After all, they’re college kids and fuck all the time anyway. But Susan is stunned by the truth. She can’t stand yet, her knees are still too shaky, but she has half a vial left. And she knows where there’s more.
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/9lqxdo/scientific_observation_fcollegeoverhearddrugs
Hash marks?