The taxi ride,, the three of us squeezed into the back seat—Carole sandwiched between me and Ben, her hand occasionally brushing your thigh as the city flickers past. I'd already popped the E back at the cafe, and it's starting to hum in your veins, sharpening my sensations, making my skin tingle and your cock reacting to the proximity her. Carole turns to me with a coy smile. "We're just making a quick stop at a friend's to pick something up before we head back to ours," she says, her voice a sultry whisper.
The cab stops at a sturdy main-door townhouse in Stockbridge, the kind of place that looks unassuming from the street but holds who knows what inside. We all pile out, Ben paid the driver, and follow Carole up the steps. She rings the bell, a lean guy in his forties, shirt unbuttoned to show a tattooed chest, his eyes lighting up as he pulls Carole into a hug. She presses against him, her breasts squished into his torso, his hand sliding down and slaps her ass. Carole laughs, low and throaty, arching into his touch.
"Hi, Peter," she says, . "Is it ready?"
"Yeah, just finished," he replies, leading us into the dimly lit kitchen where the air smells faintly chemical and warm. On the aga stove, a small pan simmers, and lined up on the counter are some small glass bottles, each filled with a clear liquid that catches the overhead light. Peter caps the last one with a satisfied nod. "This batch should be good—smooth."
I shoot them a curious look, my pulse already racing from the E and the unfamiliar setup. Ben catches your eye and claps a hand on your back, his grip solid. "It's okay, David. Peter's been making his own GHB for years. Keeps things interesting."
"OH, OK," I've heard of it—liquid ecstasy, but never tried it. The unease in my gut, mixing with the growing horniness from the tablet, my mind flashing to what might come next.
Carole slips her arm around my shoulder, her fingers trailing down my arm in a reassuring stroke, her cleavage brushing my side as she leans in close, I can smell her perfume—something musky and intoxicating. "It's okay, babes," she murmurs, her breath warm on my neck. "As long as you take it in small amounts. Loosens you up, makes everything feel... intense."
Peter pours small amounts into shot glasses, passing one to each of us—Ben downs his without hesitation, Carole sips hers like it's fine wine, and then it's my turn. The liquid looks innocent enough, but an uneasiness in my stomach tightens. Still, the heat building between my legs overrides it; " a Fuck it in for a penny". I take less than a teaspoonful, tipping it back. It tastes like crap—bitter, salty, with a chemical bitterness that coats my mouth and makes me grimace.
Peter chuckles, wiping his hands on a towel. "First time's always rough . Give it twenty minutes; you'll be good, Your in for a fun night tonight. I've known these pair for a good few years." He winks at me , then eyes Carole, his gaze lingering on the way her dress hugs her hips. Ben's already pouring himself another drink from the counter, the casual vibe in the room shifting, more charged. Carole's hand hasn't left my shoulder, and now her fingers dip lower, edging my waistband, while Ben steps closer, his bulk invading your space just enough to make your heart pound.
The GHB hits subtle at first—a warm wave spreading from my belly, easing the tension in your muscles, making colors brighter and touches electric. My cock stirs throbbing now, pressing against my jeans, I catch Carole glancing down, her smile widening. "See? Not so bad," she whispers. Peter leans against the counter, watching with interest, like he's sizing up how you'll fit into their little game. The kitchen feels smaller, hotter, what's next. Carole leans forward and whispers in my ear, "one for the road", her fingers slip past my lips as she drops me another E......
The twenty minutes blur by in the taxi, the GHB doing its thing through my body alongside the E, turning the world soft at the edges while cranking up my Hornyness. Carole's hand rests on my knee, her fingers tracing lazy circles that make me ache for release. Ben sits on her other side, his thick arm, occasionally squeezing her shoulder as the city gives way to quieter streets on the edge of Mortonhall. The cab finally stops outside their detached cottage—a modest semi , tucked away from the main road, whitewashed walls and a neat garden. It's nothing fancy, a cozy den for whatever wild nights they host.
They usher me inside, Ben opens door , the air inside warm and faintly scented with incense. The living room opens up before me: a simple setup with a plush L shaped sofa facing a coffee table, bookshelves most of the other wall. The lights are low, just two small lamps as Ben finds the switch. My mind swims a bit—fuzzy from the E you'd taken at the cafe, and now this GHB on top, though I usually stick to two max. Unease flickers, but it's drowned out by the throbbing heat. I,m horny as hell, cock straining, skin sensitive to every touch.
Carole's behaviour changes the moment the door clicks shut. She straightens, her eyes sharpening with command as she kicks off her heels by the entryway. 'Ben, put some music on,' she orders, her voice crisp, no room for debate. 'And get David a drink—something strong to keep the vibe going.' Ben nods without a word, his girthy frame moving to the stereo in the corner, where he cues up a slow, pulsing beat—deep bass that vibrates through the floor,. He gets himself a whiskey neat and a large vodka coke for me.
I sink onto the sofa, the cushions soft under me, trying to steady my spinning head. What have I let myself into? worrying but at the same time alluring, as though under a spell. This couple's energy pulls me deeper, the drugs amplifying every heartbeat.
Then Carole reappears from what must be the bedroom down the hall, and my eyes damn near bulge from my head. She's transformed: knee-high black leather boots hugging her calves, the heels clicking. She must of put on some kind of skin cream as her skin was sun kissed and shimmering. A thin leather harness crisscrosses her torso, black straps framing her marvelous breasts—naturally large, heavy globes with wide, dark areolas and nipples already hard, jutting out like they're begging for attention. The harness leaves her curvy hips bare, her pussy exposed, a trimmed patch of hair above her slit. Topping it off, a soldier's peaked hat sits jauntily on her head, adding a bizarre, dominant flair that makes her look like some kinky Captain.
She strides over, hips swaying, breasts bouncing slightly with each step. Leaning forward, she grabs my shirt and pulls you up to her, her face inches from mine, breath hot. Her other hand cups my chin thumb brushing my lip. 'Don't be a stick in the mud,' she says, her tone firm and controlling, laced with that unyielding edge that brooks no argument. 'Let's get you two boys naked.'
Ben chuckles low from the side, already shrugging off his shirt to reveal a hairy chest and slight gut, but he waits for her lead, unbuckling his belt as she turns her gaze on me. My hands moving, fumbling with my buttons under her stare, the drugs making my fingers clumsy but my cock rock-hard, tenting my jeans . She releases me just long enough to step back, watching. The music seems to throb louder in my head, my shirt hits the floor, Carole's hand slides down to palm your bulge, squeezing just enough to make me groan. Ben's pants drop next, his thick chunky cock springing free—half-erect, heavy and swinging.
Carole's eyes scoured over both of us, possessive and hungry. 'That's better,' she purrs, her voice getting a deeper, her boots wide as she gestures to me. 'boxers off, David. Show me what you've got for me.' The command hangs in the air, her control, and the promise of what's coming—my body obeying before the fuzzy mind can catch up, the horniness demanding release.
