Go outside to buy more condoms!

You lie there for a moment, panting, body glistening with layers of James's dried and fresh cum, the sheets an absolute disaster beneath you. The rational part of your brain finally kicks in through the haze of lust. "We... we need more condoms," you gasp, pushing weakly at his chest even as your hips twitch toward his still-hard cock. "Now. Before we do something we'll regret."

James groans but nods, eyes still hungry. "Fine. Quick shower—cold one, maybe—and we hit the pharmacy. There's that one across town on Baker Street." You both stumble to the bathroom, rinsing off the worst of the mess in a hurried, slippery shower that almost turns into round four when his hands start soaping your breasts. Somehow you resist, toweling off hastily.

Clothes are a problem. Your old male wardrobe is useless now, so you grab one of Jess's old summer dresses from the closet—a light, floral thing that barely reaches mid-thigh, thin straps and a low neckline that hugs your new curves perfectly. Jess' old bra doesn't fit right, and panties feel too complicated with how sensitive you still are, so you skip underwear entirely. The fabric whispers against your bare skin, nipples already poking through, and every step reminds you how exposed you are. James throws on gray sweatpants that do nothing to hide his semi-hard bulge and a plain t-shirt, smirking as he watches you dress. "Fuck, you look edible like that. Easy access."

The drive is ****. It's late afternoon, sun still high, and you turn the AC in the car to the max, pointing the cool airstream at your burning thighs and pubic area. The smell of female arousal slowly fills the car. James keeps one hand on the wheel and the other on your thigh, sliding higher with every red light, fingers brushing your slick folds until you're squirming in the seat. "Just imagine if I pulled over right now," he murmurs, voice low. "Bent you over the hood and bred you where anyone could see." You bite your lip to stifle a moan, thighs clenching around his teasing touch. The drive seems to last forever.

Finally, you pull into the empty parking lot of the small-town pharmacy. The bell jingles as you step inside, cool air raising goosebumps on your bare legs and hardening your nipples even more against the thin dress. An older cashier, a bored-looking guy in his thirties with a name tag reading "Mike," glances up from his phone.

"Hi, uh... do you have condoms?" you ask, trying to sound casual even as heat floods your cheeks. James stands close behind you at the counter, his body heat radiating.

Mike checks the shelf behind him, frowning. "Sorry, folks. We're completely sold out. Some big rush earlier today—weird, right? Got plenty of birth control pills and Plan B, though, if that's what you're after."

Your stomach sinks. Neither of those helps your situation. "No, that's... not what we need," you mumble, disappointment thick in your voice.

While Mike rings up someone else's forgotten item in the background, James presses closer, his chest to your back. You think he's just being affectionate until you feel his hands slide up under the hem of your dress from behind, bold and hidden by the counter. Fingers trace your bare ass, then slip forward, parting your wet lips with ease. You gasp softly, gripping the counter to steady yourself as he circles your clit slowly, teasingly.

"Shh," he whispers hot against your ear, breath sending shivers down your spine. "Look at you, dripping down your thighs already. Bet Mike can smell how bad you need to be bred." His finger joins, pushing inside you while his thumb keeps rubbing, pumping gently as you struggle to keep a straight face. Your knees buckle slightly, the dress fluttering just enough to hide his movements, but the risk makes everything ten times hotter

You grip the counter harder, James’s fingers still working you mercilessly under the dress—two thick digits pumping slowly in and out while his thumb flicks your swollen clit in tight circles. Your breath hitches, thighs trembling as you fight to keep your face neutral. Mike looks back up from his phone.

“Anything else I can help with?” he asks again, oblivious.

James leans forward slightly, his chest pressed to your back, fingers never stopping their rhythm. His voice comes out casual, almost cheerful. “Actually, yeah—do you guys carry ovulation tests? Or anything that, y’know, boosts fertility? Supplements, strips, whatever you’ve got.”

Your eyes snap to him, shock flooding your foggy brain even as your body clenches around his fingers. Mike raises an eyebrow but nods, turning to check the shelves behind the counter.

“Yep. We’ve got a few things.” He starts pulling items out and setting them on the counter one by one.

A box of digital ovulation predictor kits—clear blue smiling faces promising “peak fertility detection.”

A bottle of preconception vitamins loaded with folic acid, myo-inositol, and CoQ10—“supports egg quality and ovulation.”

FertilAid for Women capsules—herbal blend with vitex, red clover, and maca root to “enhance fertile cervical mucus.”

A small jar of Pre-Seed fertility-friendly lube—“mimics natural fertile fluids, sperm-safe.”

And, to your growing horror, a pack of soft-cup menstrual discs that the box cheerfully advertises as perfect for “conception assistance—hold semen close to the cervix post-intercourse.”

After setting down the last item, Mike leans in closer and whispers "If you're interested, I have some under the counter merchandise that might be right up your alley. Cash, no questions. You interested?

James interest is piques immediately. "What've you got?"

Mike nods and slides over a sixth item-a blister pack of glossy black pills, unmarked except for a tiny "Frenzy Tabs" etched on the foil. "These are oral, pop one and wait 20 minutes. Amps up arousal to insane levels, makes her super suggestible, especially to breeding talk. Fertility boost is off the charts, ovaries in overdrive, but it fries the inhibitions. She'll be in a full-on frenzy, craving cum like air, easy to command into positions or acts that guarantee impregnation. Duration of the effect varies a lot though so I can't tell you when your girl will be back to normal. Some test candidates got it permanently. Black market exclusive; one tab can turn a night into a breeding marathon. High chance of multiple triplets or more."

James doesn’t even hesitate. “We’ll take everything you’ve got in stock of each,” he says, sliding his card across the counter like he’s buying candy. He pulls out a wad of cash. "And the tablets" His fingers curl deeper inside you as he speaks, hitting that spot that makes your vision blur for a second.

Mike rings it all up—two of the ovulation kits, three bottles of vitamins, two boxes of FertilAid, four tubes of Pre-Seed, and the last three packs of soft cups. The total is embarrassingly high, and every beep of the scanner feels like a nail in your stomach.

You stare at James, mouth parted in stunned silence. He finally slips his hand free (leaving you aching and empty) and turns you gently by the shoulder so you’re facing him. His expression is apologetic but unyielding, eyes dark with the same relentless need that’s been driving you both all day.

"Insurance, baby. If you won't let me breed you the easy way... these make sure whoever I pick gets the job done quick. But hey, we could test them on you first-imagine you in that frenzy, a mindless bimbo and dripping for my load."

Your mouth opens and closes a few times but no words come out. You are still in shocked that the gentle and warm girl Jill that you knew as your girlfriend would consider this.

“Baby,” he says quietly, thumb brushing your lower lip, “you know the rules. I’ve got to put a baby in someone before the 48 hours are up, or I’m stuck like this. If it can’t be you…” He glances toward the door, then back, voice dropping. “Then it has to be someone else. These’ll make sure whoever it is gets properly knocked up fast.”

Your heart hammers, a confusing rush of arousal, jealousy, and fear twisting in your gut. The bag of fertility-boosting gear sits heavy on the counter between you. But you realize he is right. You were so caught up solving your imminent problem that you forgot that Jess is in the same predicament as you.

Mike hands over the receipt with a polite “Have a good night,” completely unaware of the storm brewing.

James picks up the bag in one hand and laces his other through yours, already guiding you toward the exit. “Come on. Let’s get home before I decide the backseat works just fine.”