Prologue
The lab tech pricked Special Agent Ellen Turrell's finger and applied the test strip. "We've got a positive," the lab tech announced.
"Good," Dr. Weaver replied. "Go ahead and draw a vial. We'll start sequencing right away."
"Please don't waste any time," Ellen told the doctor. "Intel suggests that whatever's happening, it's going to happen very soon. We can't spare a moment." The doctor nodded.
The asset was a biologist, deep undercover in a domestic terrorist cell. She was guarded twenty-four hours a day: no phone, no Internet, no paper. The only way that she could pass a message to the FBI was with the same equipment she was using to create biological weapons for her captors: she had to smuggle her message in the inert amino acids of a harmless virus: 131 bits or fewer of Huffman-coded text. Then, all she had to do was find a way to pass that virus along....
November 17
Special Agent Ellen Turrell was tired, but she had a job to do. She had already been fucked twice. That was after her fellow swinger Peg had fingered her with rough nails, so she was a bit sore. That was probably for the best though: a couple abrasions in her vagina would ensure that she contracted the virus, if one of her partners had it.
Still, she hadn't made contact with her main target - the one the mathematicians said had the highest coefficient of transmission. Anything caught by one member of her swinging club would eventually be passed on to all of them, but things were happening in the case, and Ellen was worried that next week might be too late.
"Henry," Ellen said as the district attorney walked past her toward the coat room. The reflective dress she was wearing guaranteed that she would catch a man's eye, and her pageant-eligible curves guaranteed she'd hold his attention. "I was hoping I'd run into you. I've got a taste for something only you can give me." She stepped in close and put her champaign glass to his lips. He obliged her with a sip.
"Ellen," he said, kissing her lips, "I wish I found you sooner. I think I'm all tapped out. I've done it twice tonight, and I've got a new girl on the side who's been sapping my strength." He looked down into her cleavage lecherously. "The spirit is willing, but, you know, the flesh is weak."
Ellen grabbed his crotch and manipulated it with expert fingers. "I don't think your flesh is so weak. It feels strong to me," she said as his cock reluctantly responded to her touch.
"Ellen...," Henry tried to argue. It was no good - she knelt in front of him, pulled down his pants, and began sucking his dick, in the foyer of their host's manor. Looking down the length of his tie, Henry saw her sapphire eyes looking back at him, her hotrod-red lips wrapped around his cock, and the tops of her white round tits, pushed together by her dress.
"Promise me you'll fuck me," Ellen demanded.
Henry groaned.
Ellen summoned up more saliva and gave Henry some more loud wet sucks. "Promise me you'll fuck me!" She insisted again.
"Of course I'll fuck you!" Henry gave in.
Henry held out his hands for Ellen's and helped her to her feet, and then he led her to the wall, just a few feet from the main door. Plenty of people were passing nearby, or loitering, but nobody gawked. He pulled her dress up to her waist. Unsurprisingly, her panties hadn't survived this late into the night. He lifted one of her legs up, hooking her knee with his elbow, and then maneuvered his prick into her well-used cunt.
"Uh!" Ellen gasped as he thrust into her. Despite the tenderness that had been bothering her between lovers, Ellen's pussy was eager for another round. More pounding, more sperm - yes, her body approved. She felt a shock of pleasure from her clit every time he pushed into her.
Soon the wall was thumping as his determined thrusts knocked her against it. "Oh dear god, yes!" Ellen cried. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck tighter as she came.
"That might be all I can manage," Henry told her apologetically when her eyes opened.
Ellen shook her head. "Not good enough," she said. "I'm not letting you go before I get my fair share of your seed."
"I don't think I can," Henry protested, but he didn't stop fucking.
Ellen caught the attention of a pretty young woman she didn't know. "Pardon me," she said, "would you mind giving my friend's prostate a little encouragement?"
"Sure," the young woman said.
The new woman knelt behind Henry and sucked on her finger before wiggling it up his ass. Once she had found the right spot, she employed her other hand fondling his balls. Then the finger in his rectum began tapping on his little hard gland.
"Oh dear god I need to come!" Henry grunted.
"You will," Ellen told him. "You should see this little cutie with her finger up your butt," she added. "She can't be more than twenty-two. You know, I bet you could use someone like her on your campaign staff."
Henry's cock and balls ached with the need for a climax that wouldn't come. The young curly-haired woman's percussion on his prostate gland squeezed out whatever tiny drops of fluid his body had left in reserve.
"Get ready, okay?" Ellen said, her eyes closing again. "I'm almost there. Hit me as hard as you can, okay?" She added, looking at the girl helping her, "You too."
Henry obeyed and drove his sex-hammer as deep and hard into her as he could manage. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" Ellen cried out. "Uh! Uh! Uh! Uheeeeeeee!" She screamed. Her pussy squeezed Henry's tired cock. The curly-haired girl pushed her finger hard into his prostate, and Henry came with a bellow.
His spasming dick managed to deliver only a few drops of feeble semen, but those drops contained more than enough of the undercover virologist's custom virus to infect the FBI agent.
November 15
"Come on - let's get you to bed before the pill kicks in," District Attorney Henry Tudyk told his wife as they entered their home from the garage. She was already sleepy - enough that he had to support her as they walked.
"Hey Ally," he said to the babysitter as they passed by the living room. "I'll settle up with you in a minute, once I get Sharon to bed."
Henry took his wife upstairs to their bedroom, and performed most of the task of undressing her himself. It had just been a casual night out with friends, so she didn't have any makeup to remove, but he did struggle a little with her earrings. He left her naked, face-up on the bed.
Ally grinned as she watched Henry descend the steps. "So, are you going to 'settle up' with me now?" She asked with a devilish smile. She removed the headband holding her dirty blond hair back and ran her fingers through it.
"First things first," Henry said. He sat on the couch with her and handed her some bills. "Here's your payment for babysitting. You are now off-the-clock. You can leave now, or...."
"Or...," Ally repeated before crawling into his lap and kissing him. "It is so hard waiting for you to come home," she added during a short face-sucking break.
Ally stood up and began to take off her jeans.
"Wait," Henry told her. "Let's do something a little different this time."
Henry led the lustful girl up to his bedroom and began undressing.
Ally looked at the naked woman on the bed. "What, so you want your wife to watch?" She asked.
"Believe me, after a half-bottle of champaign and a Xanax, she will not be waking up," Henry told her. "Consider this just an exotic change of scenery."
Ally accepted his assurance and began undressing, beginning with her flannel outer shirt. "Must have been some party," she remarked.
Henry sat on the bed, next to his sleeping wife, and motioned for Ally to join him. "She doesn't drink much at parties," he told her. "This was just a get-together with another couple. That's when she really cuts loose."
The D.A. and the babysitter kissed, and he groped her teenage body. Ally's eyes kept darting to the naked woman beside her. "She's got amazing breasts," she observed once Henry's teeth released her lip. "I hope when I'm her age mine look that good."
"Choose the right career, marry well, and such luxuries will be well within your means," Henry told her. When Ally's attention didn't return to him, he added, "Go ahead and touch them if you want."
Ally put her left hand on Sharon's breast. She squeezed, feeling its surgically-augmented springiness. She moved her right hand to her own breast, for comparison, squeezing both. Apart from the significant size difference, they seemed the same. Henry took the opportunity to affix his mouth to Ally's other nipple.
Ally could feel the wetness seeping out of her crotch. Her body was screaming its readiness for sex, but her fascination with the older woman had priority. Ally moved her hand to the sleeping woman's bare mound. "She's got no razor stubble," the younger woman observed.
"Electrolysis," Henry muttered before returning his mouth to Ally's tit. His hands were rubbing her ass and thigh.
"Do you ever do her when she's like this?" Ally asked.
"Once, with her permission ahead of time," Henry told her. "Honestly it's not very much fun."
As if to test Henry's assertion, Ally wiggled a finger into Sharon's pussy. The sleeping woman wasn't producing much lubrication. Ally could see why trying to stick a cock in there would be more trouble than it was worth.
"Okay, fuck me now," Ally said, returning her attention the man who was making her own pussy gush. "How do you want me?"
"On your back," Henry answered.
Ally lay back. Henry sat between her legs and penetrated her. He rolled his hips, thrusting into her, as he looked down on her smiling face, next to his sleeping wife.
"Oh yes, I want it! Do me forever!" The teen girl groaned, being sure to keep her voice down to avoid waking six-year-old Michael in the other room. Henry continued to fuck her while she wiggled beneath him, moaning, "Oh this feels so good. Your dick is wonderful!"
Henry was panting. Their bodies were making wet slopping sounds together. "I wish I had a daughter," he blurted without thinking.
Ally giggled. "Is that what this is?" She asked, smiling. She glanced at the unconscious naked woman beside her. "The three of us in bed together? One big happy family?" She giggled again, "Oh daddy, fuck me harder! Make your little girl come, just like you did on my thirteenth birthday!"
Henry realized that he was losing control too late. He tried to hold it back but his ejaculation gushed into his teen lover, each pulse adding more to the soupy mess just outside her uterus.
Henry lay next to the girl and panted. He turned his head to face hers, inches from him. "What's wrong?"
Ally tried not to sound disappointed. "I like that you got so excited and everything," she told Henry. "I just really wanted to come."
"Sorry. That one surprised me," Henry said. "Go clean up. I'll take care of you."
Ally went to the bathroom to pee, and to get rid of the bulk of Henry's mess from inside her. When she returned, Henry was still lying in the same position. He gestured to her, and so she followed his instructions and knelt over his face.
Ally's body had largely relaxed from the excitement of sex, but after a few strokes of Henry's tongue against her clit, she was once again a sexual reactor ready to explode. "Holy fuck! This is amazing," she remarked, leaning forward and hanging on the bed's headboard.
Soon Ally's hips were moving around beyond her control, smashing into Henry's face and breaking free from his tongue. He kept her going, somehow. And then Henry's fingers entered her snatch, pumping furiously. Ally lost it: an orgasm different than any she had ever experienced, and far better, overtook her, causing her whole body to flail. Fluid sprayed in five spurts all over Henry's face.
Henry wiped his eye after the sated girl climbed off of him. Her girl-come had struck him faster than his blink reflex could act. It carried with it the coded-message virus, which infected the district attorney.
November 11
Ally Prescott appeared in the hospital room's doorway wearing her cheer uniform. Her dirty blond bob cut was held back by a headband with a checkerboard pattern of the school colors. Hiro Matsuda clicked the power button on the TV's remote.
Ally approached the bed-ridden boy. "So I guess you've had a ton of people in here already telling you how awesome that catch was - how we've got a shot at the championship because of you," she said.
"Yeah," Hiro said with a smile. "Everyone has been really cool. I'm lucky to have great teammates and classmates."
Ally put her hand on his knee. "Well, the girls were talking," she said. Her hand hand slithered up his thigh, under the hem of his hospital gown. "We don't think you've been thanked well enough."
Ally seized Hiro's balls authoritatively, and rolled them around in her hand. Hiro groaned and his dick began to grow.
"Rumor is you're a virgin," Ally said. She switched her grip to his now hard shaft. She held it tight and began a very subtle wanking.
"Uh huh," Hiro replied dreamily.
"I'd like to be your first," Ally said. "Would you be okay with that? Here like this?"
"Uh huh," Hiro repeated.
Ally abandoned her spankies and panties on the floor, and then climbed onto the bed at Hiro's feet. Straddling his legs, she crawled forward until she was sitting on his thighs. "Let me know if I hurt you, okay?" She told him.
She pushed his hospital gown forward to reveal his cock, balls, and black bush of pubic hair. She gave his shaft a few more strokes with her hand to make sure he was ready.
"Hey, um, can I see it?" Hiro asked with an enormous grin.
"What, this?" Ally teased. She rose up on her knees, leaned back, and lifted her uniform's skirt, giving Hiro a view of her hairless pussy. She moved around in a little dance for him while he watched with childlike wonder. A drop of thin liquid escaped the top of his prick.
Ally grabbed his cock again and inched forward until the tip was resting between the folds of her puss, and then she moved again to capture it inside her. Hiro groaned again as she slowly swallowed his entire length with her cunt.
She ground her hips slowly, rubbing his cock with her inner sex tissues. His cock felt warm from her body heat, and wet. It felt welcome there. Beyond what their bodies were feeling, Hiro knew that Ally was fucking him every bit as much with her eyes.
Hiro reached out and touched Ally's belly with his uninjured arm. Ally took his hand to her mouth and sucked on his thumb, in and out suggestively, coating it with her saliva. Then she moved his hand under her skirt, and pressed his thumb against her clit. She lifted her skirt while she rocked her body on top of him so that he could watch his hand pleasuring her through her little sex button.
They both moaned quietly, approaching climax as if casually rowing a boat there together. Ally muttered, "Oh, Hiro, you're gonna make me come. Keep touching me like that. Oh yeah... this is it! Oh!"
Ally's pussy squeezed Hiro's dick in urgent pulses, discordant with the serene mood up until that point. Her cheeks became rosy and she arched her back. The sight and the feeling overwhelmed Hiro. His cock twitched and shuttled many loads of vigorous sperm inside her.
They remained in their positions for a while, smiling at each other. Even when his dick was soft it was still inside her. When she did finally get up, Ally wiped between her legs with a hand full of tissues, and then went about licking up the dribbled mess from his balls and thighs. Hiro was hard again by the time Ally finished, and she was about to try getting him off with her mouth when there was a knock on the door, and they knew play time was over.
"Hey, um, I'm getting out of the hospital tomorrow. Do you think maybe we can get together this weekend?" Hiro asked while the nurse came in and inspected a clipboard.
"I've got to babysit this weekend," Ally told him. "But soon for sure!"
The bulk of Hiro's ejaculate had either seeped down his softening cock, or ended up in tissues in the trash, but much of the thin slippery part of the emulsion remained, coating the surfaces of Ally's vagina. That fluid contained thousands of viruses carrying an encoded message, some of which found their way into Ally's bloodstream.
November 8
Hiro Matsuda was on the operating table. Setting the bone from his break was straightforward for the medical team, but repairing the artery that had been damaged by the splintered bone required some delicacy. The blood he was given contained no harmful pathogens, but it did contain a virus, working its way through crowds of strangers toward the FBI. Hiro was unavoidably infected.
November 4
Medical student Kyle Dobson donated blood. He felt guilty about it, remembering that just last night he had engaged in what would definitely be considered "high risk" behavior, but he had a lot of expenses and not a lot of sources of income. Anyway, he had gotten the sense that the women he'd been with was high-class, not some street corner hooker. A call girl like that, Kyle figured, certainly gets tested regularly.
No harmful microorganisms were present in the blood Kyle sold, but there were a variety of benign ones, included one containing a secret message.
November 3
Art Bellows closed the apartment door behind him and set his keys on the table next to it. "Got a surprise for you, Cos!" He said to his cousin and roommate, Kyle Dobson. Kyle looked up from his text book. "My boss is sending a girl over tonight - kind of an early Christmas bonus. She's already paid for, so I figured we can share."
"What? She'd be cool with that?" Kyle asked. He wasn't really sure what Art did for a living, but he knew it was legally dubious. He was careful never to ask too many questions.
"Like I said - she's already paid for," Art grinned.
A short time later there was a knock at the door. Art opened the door to a sandy-haired woman in a tight red minidress. She was petite but well-endowed, and her five inch heels made the most of her legs.
"Are you Art?" She asked. When he nodded she walked in with a smile that would have made a lesser man drop to his knees before her. "I'm Persephone," she told him. She had a posh British accent. "Some fellows call me Rabbit. You can call me whatever you like. For the next two hours, I'm yours."
Art walked a circle around her, stopping to squeeze her well-muscled ass. He lifted the hem of her dress just enough to see her pale green panties. "God damn," he muttered with appreciation.
"So..., do you have any ideas about what you'd like to do tonight?" Persephone asked.
"In fact, I do," Art told her. He rubbed his thumb over his mustache. "First, I've gotta feel those tits," he explained as he wrapped his arms around her and unzipped her dress. It fell to the ground, revealing the small twenty-something woman's body and her perfectly shaped D's. Art enjoyed a grope while he negotiated the rest of his plan. "But then, I want a two-hour blowjob. Keep me going the whole time, but don't let me come until the very end. Think you're up to the challenge?"
Persephone smiled. "I am if your body will hold out. Some men would need a Cialis to last that long. I've got one in my bag..."
"I won't need it," Art said with swagger.
"Who's your friend?" Persephone asked as she undressed Art. She tilted her head over at Kyle, still studying at the kitchen table.
"My cousin Kyle. He's going to join us, if he doesn't puss out," Art explained. "But your mouth is all mine."
"After I finish this chapter," Kyle added.
Art lay on the couch, his short thick stiffy twitching as if to get Persephone's attention. The tiny girl knelt on the couch with Art and began expertly pleasuring his cock. Persephone's mouth made sloppy wet sounds. Her eyes were locked on Art's face, as much to gauge his staying power as to turn him on. Occasionally she peered over at Kyle, whose attention was on the two of them more often than on his book.
The call girl's mouth did not disappoint, and the minutes wore on. She would stay with one technique, one rhythm for a time, and then mix it up with a flurry of new activity to keep things interesting. Even after only ten minutes Art's dick was sore: the last girl who'd sucked him had had a tooth fetish; she had scraped up his shaft before he said enough and put her in her place.
Kyle got up from the table and stood a few yards from the couch. He dropped his pants and watched the professional work on his cousin while he stroked himself hard.
Finally he approached and rubbed the woman's butt cheeks with his hands. "Miss Rabbit?" Kyle asked tentatively. "Would it be all right if I, um...," he began.
Persephone stopped licking long enough to answer, squeezing Art's nuts to keep him interested. "You can do whatever you want to me, love," she said in a sultry voice.
Persephone rotated to a standing position on the floor, bent at the waist with her mouth still stuck to Art's rod. Kyle coated his missile with her juices and pushed it into her pussy, stroking gradually deeper as he moved his hips.
"You've got some equipment!" Persephone declared, wanking Art with her hands as she spoke. "You're reaching my cervix! Keep doing that!" She instructed.
The call girl moaned while Kyle fucked her from behind. The vibrations from her throat were a welcome addition to the maelstrom actions of her mouth on Art's erection. Kyle began to moan too, and it was obvious to everyone that he wouldn't be setting any records for staying power.
Art gave a thumbs-up to Kyle, but Kyle was too distracted holding on to the tiny girl's hips to return the gesture.
Both Kyle and Persephone's moans intensified, and it looked as if they were in a race to see who would come first. Persephone reached back on put her hand on Kyle's. "Here, love: hold still. Let me take it home," she told him.
As instructed, Kyle stopped thrusting. Instead, Persephone started rocking back and forth into Kyle's cock. Then, additionally, she began to violently wiggle her hips. The feeling was like nothing Kyle had ever felt, nor anything Art had ever seen. His moans became frantic and her moans rose to match, but her attention to Art's knob never faltered for an instant. Persephone came - both men could feel it. Kyle couldn't take it: he shot his load powerfully into the prostitute's cunt. Persephone disengaged her mouth just in time to keep Art from erupting as well.
"Jesus, girl!" Art announced.
Persephone chuckled. "I love my job," she answered. Kyle had just pulled out, so she took the opportunity to move up and kiss Art, giving his dick a moment to cool down. Soon she went back to standing bent over Art's dick, sucking it. Kyle wiped her pussy and thighs with some bathroom tissue to avoid making a mess on the carpet.
Art's dick stayed hard and excited in Persephone's mouth, hovering just short of the point of no return. Sometimes she would let him cool down, leaving his dick alone while they kissed or he sucked her tits, but only ever just for a moment.
Kyle had returned to his books, but he frequently glanced at the hooker and john. Persephone seemed to always catch him when he did. She seemed to even smile at him, as if that were even possible given what she was doing. She seemed to know what he was thinking - some sort of preternatural whore sense. At one point, as she was sitting on Art's chest and giving his cock some casual squeezes, she beckoned to Kyle.
Kyle approached and Persephone pulled him close. She whispered in his ear, "Does he know that you want to suck his knob?"
There was no point in denying it. Kyle shook his head and whispered, "No."
Persephone got back in position and resumed her oral work. Art's dick genuinely hurt now, but the prostitute's talents were too good to abandon. Kyle stood near them again, jerking his cock again and watching them. Now, when Persephone glanced at him, they were sharing a secret. That made him even harder.
Persephone glanced at her watch: ten minutes to go. "You should try my bum this time," she suggested. "Just get it wet in my quim first."
As instructed, Kyle jabbed his thing into the call girl's cunt. She moaned as he performed a couple deep thrusts. Then, when he withdrew and instead invaded her ass, she squealed.
Kyle and Persephone moaned as he ass-fucked her, while Art lay, eyes-closed, gritting his teeth, on the couch. Persephone glanced at her watch again, and then showed it to Art, who nodded. Persephone went into high gear, bobbing her head on the squat boner feverishly, and supplementing her mouth technique by working his shaft with her hand. Art joined the chorus of moans, and soon his became the loudest voice. He'd been denied an orgasm for so long, Art wasn't even sure that his body knew how to come anymore, but the rabbit knew her job well. Art shouted as he filled her mouth with an unthinkable volume of come. Orgasms are contagious, and so immediately Kyle filled the girl's round firm ass with his second come-shot.
The call girl didn't leave a drop of semen on Art's shrinking dick. Before Kyle could get away, she pranced up to him, put her hands on his shoulders and pulled him into a kiss. She forced his mouth open with her tongue, and injected Art's entire load into it. Kyle savored it secretly for a while before swallowing.
The stress of exams had been causing Kyle to over-brush his teeth; his gums had been swollen for days. It was through Kyle's damaged gums that the bio-engineered message virus contained in Art's semen took root in his body.
October 31
Dr. Sarah Pyle checked the time on her lab computer. Twenty four hours had passed: the virus she had crafted and infected herself with was now sufficiently communicable. Now she just needed to find someone to share it with.
Her pussy stirred at the thought. For all the dangers and challenges for which she had prepared before going under cover, lack of sex had never occurred to her. Technically she was an employee, sequestered for her own protection, but she knew going into the assignment that she would essentially be a prisoner.
"Hey Art," she said to her guard, "what have we got for candy around here? It's Halloween, and I've got a sweet tooth."
"Sorry, Doc," Art Bellows replied. "Nothing like that around here."
"But you could get it for me, right? God, a king-size Snickers would be heavenly right now," she told him. "Maybe we can make a trade?"
"Trade?" Art scoffed with a roguish smile. "What have you got to trade?"
Sarah undid two of her blouse's buttons. She released her long red hair from its ponytail and walked toward him, one foot in front of the other. She touched his broad chest. "You know what I've got," she said matter-of-factly. "You've certainly done plenty of window shopping since you were assigned to me."
Art played it cool. "I don't know - I don't want to stir up any trouble. I'll probably just swing by a college party after my shift - pick up some some pussy in a fresher package."
"You mean you want a girl who's too young to know if you're any good," Sarah mocked him.
"Bitch, please!" Art replied.
Sarah decided to change tactics. "Look, Art, throw me a bone," she said. "It's been four months since I've touched a guy. I haven't gone this long without a man between my legs since high school. It's Halloween - if I were working a regular job, I'd be getting gang-banged right now by a bunch of drunk scientists in superhero costumes."
She wasn't lying. Sarah had rarely ever bothered with romance, but she had never hesitated to find some willing partner whenever the mood struck her. In grad school she had been known as O.T.T.P. Sarah - "Open to the public". She owned it: most of the time when she put her number in a man's phone, it was as "Dr. Sarah, DTF."
"So you think you know your way around a cock, huh?" Art challenged her. He rubbed his mustache. "Show me. Consider it an audition."
Sarah leaned in to kiss Art. Swapping spit would be her most reliable way of transmitting the virus. Art had other ideas and pushed down on her head, so Sarah rolled with it and took Art's dick out from his pants. She considered her options while she coaxed the stocky penis hard with his fingers and mouth.
Transmission of microorganisms from a penis to a mouth, vagina, or rectum was much more likely that the other way around. Typically for the penis-owner to be infected depended on tiny abrasions in the skin coming into contact with their partner's fluids. If the circumstances weren't so dire, Sarah would have let nature take its course over the span of several sexual encounters, but Sarah had done the math: the probability of her message infecting enough people to reach her FBI contact in time for them to stop the attack would be too low if she took the slow approach. She knew what she had to do.
Two minutes into her blowjob, Sarah began laughing mysteriously. "Hey Art," she said between sucks, "do you have any kinks? I have a couple." With that she closed her mouth until her teeth were just barely touching Art's pillar of flesh.
"Hey now!" Art said with alarm.
Sarah laughed, but went back to conventional sucking for a time. She had a sharp edge on the side of one of her incisors - she often pricked her tongue on it while thinking through a problem. She turned her head and scraped an inch long line on Art's dick - not enough to draw blood or even leave a mark, but enough to weaken his body's protection.
"No, baby - stop it with the teeth," he told her.
A minute later, Sarah repeated her maneuver on the underside of Art's dick.
"Stop!" Art said, withdrawing from Sarah's mouth. "Fuck, you give terrible head. Is that the kind of shit science geeks are into?"
Sarah stood up. "Sorry!" She said. "I guess I didn't think you'd be so vanilla. My bad." She glanced down at Art's eagerly twitching erection. "But, I did pass the audition, right?"
"Vanilla?" Art asked, agitated. Sarah said nothing. "Take it all off except the lab coat and the shoes. Put your hair back in a ponytail," he commanded.
Sarah had to take her lab coat off to remove her blouse and bra, but she put it back on before removing her pants. She had been blessed by her genes: at forty-one she had a body that would make twenty-five year olds jealous. She stood in front of her guard waiting, her breasts peaking out the open front of her lab coat. Her blue glasses frames contrasted against the taut red hair gathered behind her head. Her shoes were flats - nothing sexy about them - but Art had insisted that she keep them on. The bright white of her brand new panties highlighted the drabness of the dingy white lab coat she'd been wearing for years.
Art spun her around and forced her against her desk. He took hold of a pair of scissors. "I said take it all off," he told her. He lifted her lab coat until her ass was exposed and cut both sides of her panties, and then ripped the damp cloth from between her legs.
"Pff. Vanilla," Art said as he rammed his still-stiff rod into Sarah's pussy.
Sarah gasped, and then moaned. Pretty soon Art was thrusting into her with a marathon runner's discipline and working her tits in his hands. Sarah gave him plenty of encouragement: her gasps and groans were unmistakable signs that Art was rocking her world. With or without her mission, this was something long overdue for Sarah, and she knew that she had picked the right man.
Sarah came, rattling her desk and tipping the pen holder over.
"Well? Is this what you wanted, bitch?" Art asked self-assuredly.
"Pretty close, yeah!" Sarah answered, genuinely dazzled.
"Close?!" Art yelled. "What more do you think you want, little girl?"
"I want you to fuck me harder, Art!" Sarah cried out. "I want you to fuck me until your dick bleeds!"
Art pulled out. "On the floor!" He commanded.
He positioned her on her knees, with her face against the linoleum floor, and slammed her harder. She cried out nonsense sounds of pleasure, loudly enough that a few of the other workers in the compound came into the room to watch. He pulled her ponytail and she began a long orgasm. Her non-stop pussy spasms seemed to be fighting with his cock for domination. Art was determined to ride it out, to win, but her climax just wouldn't stop, until finally he burst his nuts. Sarah could feel her snatch drawing the semen out of him and moving it deeper, into her uterus.
"We make a pretty good team," Sarah said, still on her knees with her face on the ground, breathing hard. Two of Art's coworkers nearby were muttering to each other, discussing the wisdom of taking turns with the scientist themselves.
Art slapped her ass as he withdrew from her. "You're a crazy high-maintenance slut. But yeah, I could do that again some time."
The vigorous friction of hard sex had deepened the scratches Sarah had made with her teeth. Art was infected by the cleverly devised virus suspended in Sarah's vaginal lubrication. Patient zero had begun to infect the community.
Epilogue
4,860 people were infected with the undercover virus by the time Special Agent Ellen Turrell tested positive for it. Another 103,422 would catch it before it died out, unable to reproduce further due to one failsafe measure or another.
The message read: "AIRBRST LV STRIP NYE". The FBI were able to thwart the terrorists' bio-weapon attack on the tourists of the Las Vegas Strip during the New Year's Eve fireworks display. Thirty-seven alleged conspirators were arrested and are awaiting trial. Seven suspected terrorists were killed during the raid on the manufacturing plant, including cell's leader. Video footage of the raid is inexplicably missing. No civilians or law enforcement personnel were harmed.
Special Agent Turrell finally met Dr. Pyle face to face. Ms. Turrell introduced Dr. Pyle to District Attorney Henry Tudyk. His phone now includes an entry for, "Dr. Sarah, DTF".