Kissing the Coronavirus
M.J. Edwards
Viralerotica
Kissing the Coronavirus
She was supposed to cure the Coronavirus.
Instead… she fell in love with it.
Dr Alexa Ashingtonford stared at the test tube between her fingers, her perfectly pink manicured nails clashing with the pale, bubbling liquid inside. She recognised the power she had in her grip, the virus which had claimed so many lives and which made her heart beat furiously, like a wild tiger thrashing in its cage.
The Coronavirus.
Despite the devastation the virus was causing across the globe, Alexa felt a rush of excitement every time she picked up the Corona sample, like a pulsating, erect penis, desperate to unleash its devastation on anyone who touched it.
It had been so long since Alexa had been with a man that the virus was the only thing she could get near to which gave her any sort of thrill. The tickle in her knickers when she worked with the sample was the only sexual release she had experienced since the virus had unleashed hell and taken its hold on the world.
And now she held it in her hand. Gripped it tight.
She bit her lip.
Imagine what she could do with it.
She rubbed her hand over her breast, her nipple hardening like a tic tac.
Imagine how she would feel if she touched herself with it.
Pretty great, Alexa thought. Pretty great, indeedily.
Alexa lowered the test tube and unbuttoned the bottom two poppers on her lab coat.
Pop. Pop.
She took the test tube and shook it. The bubbling, creamy liquid sloshed against the inside of the tube. It fizzed up and Alexa swore she could feel the glass expanding. Swelling up and down as she shook the tube.
A shock of electricity coursed through her veins, eventually stopping as it reached her vagina. It was like she’d sat on a battery. Everything tingled and it felt good.
But Alexa knew it could feel better.
Much better.
Alexa pulled down her lab pants and pulled her panties to the side, her pussy so wet that the lace glided across her skin like a fat man on a water slide.
She lowered the test tube.
As the COVID-19 sample got closer to her, she felt the rush. An intense burst from within, like an entire firework display going off at once.
She twisted the test tube in her grip, ready to push it inside. She’d done this with so many men who didn’t know how to control their own flailing cocks, like they’d had minds of their own and required guidance.
Alexa tightened her grip on the tube. She imagined it had veins pumping blood to keep it hard for her. She thought about the power.
She touched the test tube to her wet lips—
’Dr Ashingtonford, would you mind cataloguing these new test samples?’
Shit.
Alexa hadn’t realised that her boss, Dr Gurtlychund, had walked back into the lab. Thankfully, her back had been to the door, or else Dr Gurtlychund would have seen everything.
And that… kind of gave Alexa a little rush, too.
Not that she liked Dr Gurtlychund; he wasn’t the sort of guy she usually went after. She liked big, muscular men who looked like Greek statues, except with huge cocks rather than small ones. Dr Gurtlychund was small and had a funny moustache, but after having been stuck in a lab with him for so long, so deprived of the feeling of a hot man-dog inside her lubricated pussy-bun, she had even considered asking him if he’d be interested in a quick bit of sex to help her get over her infatuation so she could get on with searching for a cure.
Because that’s what they were there for. Not for lust-induced sessions with the cause of the pandemic. They were there for the cure, and they were determined never to leave the lab until it had been found.
However, Alexa still held a grudge against Dr Gurtlychund. She still thought about hate-fucking him, sure, but her pride was more important than a bit of slap and tickle. She knew the vaccine they were waiting to trial on human patients needed just a little more COVID-19 in order for the body to properly built up the necessary antibodies.
But would Dr Gurtlychund listen?
No. He would not.
When the Coronavirus had first taken hold of the people of Wuhan, Dr Gurtlychund, one of Ohio’s top biochemical-neuroviral-epidemiologists, had asked a core team of doctors to lead a task force to find the cure. There had been four of them at the start: Dr Gurtlychund, Dr Ashingtonford, Dr J, and Dr Wobbul. Then, slowly, the virus had spread across the globe. Asia. Europe. Some other places. But most importantly and worryingly, America.
Then, even more slowly, the virus began to infect the lab. First to succumb was Dr J. Then Dr Wobbul. That was it.
And so, Dr Gurtlychund became more determined. So determined, in fact, that he had stopped listening to reason, and because Alexa had huge boobies, a thicc ass and nice legs, he would sometimes overlook her. Alexa admired him so much, but lately his attitude had gotten in the way of her fantasies. He was definitely marriage material, but he just wasn’t what she wanted appearance-wise. She couldn’t get over that moustache. She loved beards, and a moustache was only the start of a beard, like micropenises are just the start of real penises. You need the rest of it for it to be truly meaningful.
And now with his new, bad attitude...
‘Dr Ashingtonford, did you hear me?’ said Dr Gurtlychund. ‘You’ve been standing there not responding to me for three and a half minutes.’
Alexa placed the sample back on her workbench and calmly refastened the buttons on her lab coat.
Pop. Pop.
‘Yes, I heard you Dr Gurtlychund,’ said Alexa, turning to face him.
‘I’ve told you, call me Bob,’ he said. ‘We practically spend all day and night here; we may as well be friendly.’
‘Yes Dr Gurt—Bob.’
He smiled and his moustache curled upward, accentuating the beardlessness of his face. If only he had a beard.
