Kissing the Coronavirus 2: The Second Wave (Kissing the Coronavirus Chronicles)

by M. J. Edwards

  Kissing the Coronavirus 2: The Second Wave

  M.J. Edwards

  Can the cure be sexier than the disease?

  For Richard

  Stop leaving dirty dishes next to the sink

  Dr Kelly Cauldron sniffed the hotdog into her vagina, filling herself up with the fat sausage which she’d kept warm all morning in her thermos flask. She’d intended on eating the delicious meat tube for her lunch, but after a busy morning administering Coronavirus vaccinations and helping to kill a disease which had taken so many lives, she had allowed the power to get the better of her.

  Covid. The killer that had changed the world overnight.

  A disease which slaughtered without mercy. It didn’t care who it took, but it did prefer to take people’s grandads.

  A serial killer, like Ted Bundy or Rose West, with an unquenchable thirst for death.

  But now, many months later, after a team of brave doctors gave their own lives developing the vaccine, it was done. The cure to the Coronavirus had arrived and Dr Kelly was on the front line, injecting the vaccine into people's arms like she was a well-oiled cog in an even weller-oiled machine.

  A patient came in.

  They’d wait in line.

  She’d take the vaccine from the refrigerator, cooled to the perfect temperature, and then she’d coolly inject it into them using a needle. As the chilly vaccine penetrated the patient's veins they’d giggle, or shudder. Dr Kelly liked to think they were shuddering because they were realising the sheer magnitude of what had just entered their body.

  A power so strong it could kill a killer.

  The vaccine.

  As Dr Kelly sat on the toilet, her open flask of hot water steamed violently at her feet, and she pushed the hotdog deep inside her pussy. She bit her lip as she caught sight of the pink baton peeking out of her minge flaps, imagining it was a hot cock.

  In and out the hotdog went, her creamy pussy juices coating the hotdog like mayonnaise.

  Dr Kelly had heard the stories of the team who had helped to develop the vaccine, led by the infamous Dr Gurtlychund. His entire team had succumbed to the virus, leaving just him and Dr Ashingtonford to discover the formula that was strong enough to take down the virus.

  But it came at a price. The virus consumed him. Destroyed him.

  He was never seen again.

  And neither was Dr Ashingtonford.

  They had sacrificed themselves to save the world from this horrifying disease. The cure for Covid became their lives.

  Dr Kelly could relate.

  Before the vaccinations had begun, she had been one of Great Britain’s top orthodontists, fixing people’s crooked teeth by day, then going out and dogging on weekends. Dr Kelly loved dogging; driving to a dark, secluded spot—usually some woodland—winding down her window, then sucking on whatever cock snaked its way inside. And Dr Kelly was very popular during her visits, with as many as nine penises popping in through her window on any given night. But then again, it wasn’t really a surprise that she had the pick of the litter; she had incredible boobs, almost too incredible, with pink nipples and delicious areolas. Her bum was impressive and she had lovely brown hair and lips so plump it was like they were made to suck cock.

  And suck cock they did.

  Sometimes they were small, sometimes they were big, and one time one even bent to the right, but she sucked on it anyway. The thought that she was making somebody feel good made her feel good. Real good. The feeling of a stranger's hot cum sliding down her throat made her clitoris thrum; it was the sign of a job well done. As they pumped her gob full of pre-children, with their moans and groans, and their fists creating thunderclaps as they pounded the roof of the car, it would all come together to produce a crescendo in her undergarments that simply couldn’t be recreated anywhere else.

  She yearned for that feeling again.

  And now, in the midst of the biggest vaccination programme in history, Dr Kelly was perpetually horny. All that good she was doing for people; making them feel good, allowing them to travel and go to the fish and chip shop without wearing a mask. What she was doing was making people feel good—yet she had no time for any sort of release.

  Now in its fourth week, the vaccination effort at the local community centre was a twenty-four-hour operation. Morning, noon, evening, night, later in the night—the team worked around the clock to ensure everybody received the critical vaccine.

  And there was always a queue; right around the building people waited (socially distanced, of course) in rain, wind, cloud and snow (because it was winter).

  Unachievable targets had been set. Sixty people vaccinated per hour - one per minute! She was an orthodontist, for goodness sake, not a vaccine-giver! Yet when the government visited her orthodontist office and made her join the vaccination team, they told her she would go to prison if she refused - so what choice did she have?

  And with her unachievable targets came an unfulfilled sexual desire to have a stranger’s willy in her mouth via her car window. Sometimes she wouldn’t leave until the early hours of the morning, and the only men still hanging about at the popular dogging sites were old men (their semen tasted chalky, which she didn’t like) or dog walkers who had got lost.

  So now, all she had was a lunchtime opportunity and her imagination.

  As she wiggled the hotdog within her passion groove, she thought back to some of her favourite encounters. The time she nibbled the nipple of a housewife as her husband spaffed on her tits. The time she took three cocks in her mouth at once and accidentally dislocated her jaw.

  Sometimes, if she was lucky, whilst she chewed away at a foreskin like it was an undercooked piece of chicken skin, a second man might open the passenger door and crawl inside the car. What he did then was up to him, but she liked it when they pulled down her knickers and slid two fingers into her uncooked mussel.

  Ah, two fingers. She’d forgotten what that was like. Her own just weren’t the same.

  And slowly, neither was the hotdog.

  So, Dr Kelly tried what she had never tried before. She bent down and took the second hotdog from the flask. She’d hoped she might get to eat the second one as a tasty lunch, but her lust for an orgasm was far more important than her lust for food.

  Dr Kelly hissed as she pushed the pork cylinders deep inside. Oh yes, this was nice. Very nice. Very, very nice.

  It wasn’t a dirty cock jabbing her in the jowls, but it would have to do.

  ‘Dr Kelly, are you in here?’ coughed an angry voice.

  ‘Oh, umm, yes,’ said Dr Kelly. In her shock, she accidentally pushed the second sausage so far into her vagina that it lodged against her womb. The first sausage slid out and rolled along the tiled floor, beneath the stall door.

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ said the angry voice, ‘I didn’t realise you were eating your lunch.’

  Dr Kelly hastily pulled up her pants, buttoned up her doctor's clothes, and flushed the toilet. She flew out of the stall and picked up the hotdog, dropping it back into the flask with a plop. She screwed on the lid.

  Stood in the doorway leading back out into the community centre was Dr Bilkin Cherubs, the boss of the vaccination team. She had big tits, but not as big as Dr Kelly’s, and she always seemed really angry about that.

  ‘What the hell are you doing? There are lives to save out here,’ screamed Dr Bilkin Cherubs, her tits bouncing in anger.

  Dr Kelly composed herself, cleared her throat loudly, and swept her luscious, brown hair over her shoulder.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she
breathed.

  Dr Bilkin Cherubs stood aside and gave Dr Kelly a staring glare. If only my tits were as nice as hers, she thought in her mind.

  Dr Kelly headed through the corridor which was filled with people waiting for their vaccine. There must have been a dozen medical personnel in the community centre working diligently to cure the wretched disease known as Covid, but no matter what they did, it didn’t seem to even make a dent in the waiting crowd.

  And people weren’t happy.

  A man grumbled something about being there five hours.

  Another man hopped up and down on the spot. Dr Kelly wondered if he needed the toilet.

  There was an angry woman yelling something about volcanoes.

  A sexy looking guy with sick abs and biceps as wide as an elephant’s leg.

  It was all too much.

  And just to add to the stress, Dr Kelly had a hotdog lodged in her vagina. She couldn’t deny the fact that it felt nice, and because it was a little bit naughty it only added to the thrill. But the time for fun was over; she had a virus to slay.

  Dr Kelly reached her vaccination room, a crowd of people rumbling and grumbling outside, and she threw herself inside. It was a moderately sized room, with a double bed on one side which some patients liked to lay on, and a desk on the other. There was also a picture of a flower on the wall. Dr Kelly didn’t know what kind of flower. Maybe a daisy or something. But she wasn’t sure.

  Or was it a daffodil? No, she wasn’t sure.

  Dr Kelly fell into her big, comfy desk chair and let out a sigh. The hotdog was still pushed up inside her pink pocket, and thanks to her crazy and unachievable targets, she was already so far behind. The hotdog would have to stay there for the time being.

  Beneath Dr Kelly’s desk was a small fridge loaded with the Covid vaccine; the very same vaccine developed by Dr Gurtlychund and Dr Ashingtonford all those months previous. The key to ending the pandemic and returning life to normal.

  Yay.

  Dr Kelly did a tappy-tap on the keyboard of her computer and the name of her next patient popped up. She crossed the room, opened her door, called out the name, the patient walked in, she gave them the vaccine, they shivered, then they left.

  She did that seven or eight more times.

  And every time she administered a patient with the vaccine, she felt that same rush. The rush that usually accompanied her whenever she gobbled on a meaty member that slapped her across the chops somewhere in a dark layby.

  It felt good, being a part of history.

  In the future, when people looked back at the year 2020 and all the trials and tribulations that came along with it, she hoped she might see her name written in those books. Something like:

  Dr Kelly Cauldron worked 22-hour days and went without sex for 6 months to help save the world.

  Then, when all this was over, she’d suck so many cocks through her car window she wouldn’t need to eat a proper meal for a week.

  Blimey, thought Dr Kelly, she’d gotten herself all worked up. The meaty treat in her pussy hole, combined with her mucky imagination, had made her so wet that if she got up from her seat she’d leave a slimy trail behind her, like a slug.

  NO!

  She had work to do!

  Dr Kelly called out the name of the next patient.

  Her door opened and she turned. It was a man.

  A sexy man.

  Dr Kelly gasped. It was the same sexy man from the corridor.

  ‘I’m Bill Johnso,’ he said.

  Her words were lost.

  Even through his shirt, Dr Kelly could see he was super ripped. His t-shirt clung to him like a small condom clung to a massive cock, displaying all the lumps and bumps and veins and—

  Control yourself, Dr Kelly, thought Dr Kelly.

  ‘Hi, erm, hey, hi,’ she said.

  ‘Hello,’ said Bill Johnso in a voice so smooth Dr Kelly almost slipped over.

  ‘How are you?’

  ‘A little tired.’

  ‘Okay. In the past seventy-eight hours have you displayed any symptoms of Covid-19?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Okay, that’s nice.’

  ‘Where would you like me?’ he asked.

  Dr Kelly giggled to herself in her head, but of course she kept her composure because she was very professional.

  There’s a lot of places I would like you, she thought.

  ‘Why don’t you hop up on the bed?’ she suggested.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, and he hopped up on the bed. He then laid down, facing up, and Dr Kelly couldn’t stop herself from gawping at his package. It was huge, like he had illegally tried to smuggle a plantain through airport customs.

  Really big.

  Dr Kelly felt the hotdog shift inside her. Her mind wandered.

  But there was nothing she could do. She had a duty to the Queen.

  Dr Kelly took a vial of vaccine from the fridge. It was cool, like a slither of Neptune, right there in the palm of her hand. Icy blue, so much so it was almost like it had an aura of its own.

  So grand. So majestic.

  After all, it had to be if it was going to destroy Covid once and for all.

  Dr Kelly took a needle and filled it with the scientific marvel. Her arm accidentally brushed against her swishing breasts. Did he just look? Perhaps it was wishful thinking.

  Dr Kelly zoomed herself on her chair across the room, and rested her arm gently on Bill Johnso’s arm. She wondered, with biceps that grandiose, would she even be able to give him the vaccine at all?

  She had to try.

  ‘This is going to scratch,’ she said, as she pushed the needle into Bill Johnso’s arm.

  She pushed the top bit of the needle and the vaccine disappeared inside his body.

  As if on cue, Bill Johnso shuddered.

  Dr Kelly grunted and bit her lip.

  Damn her imagination.

  ‘How does that feel?’ she asked.

  Bill Johnso propped himself up onto his elbows, then nodded.

  ‘Yeah, fine,’ he said. ‘Just super tired.’

  ‘What have you been doing to make you so tired?’

  ‘Well, I’m a business traveller. I travel all over the place for business.’

  ‘What kind of business?’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Bill Johnso sat up, but suddenly wobbled and had to stop himself from tipping off the side of the double bed. Dr Kelly reached out her hand to catch him, accidentally touching his left pectoral muscle. It was hard, firm. Like grabbing a fillet of succulent beef.

  ‘Woah, sure you’re good?’ she asked.

  ‘I, erm, I don’t know,’ he said.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘I feel a little… off…’

  ‘Off how? I thought you weren’t experiencing symptoms.’

  ‘I’m not. I mean, I can’t, anyway. It’s not exactly possible.’

  ‘And why’s that?’ asked Dr Kelly. She realised she hadn’t taken her eyes away from his eyes in a while, so she looked at his big dick bulging in his pants instead.

  ‘It’s not possible, because I already took a different vaccine last week,’ he said, his words a little slurred.

  ‘You what?’ asked Dr Kelly.

  ‘Yeah. I was in NYC last week—that’s what we refer to New York as where I’m from—and in order for me to travel I had to be vaccinated. I figured I travel a lot, so signed up for the vaccine back home, too. That’s why I’m here.’

  Dr Kelly gasped, ‘You’ve taken two doses of the vaccine?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said with a big smile, his head lolloping back and forth like one of those inflatable things you punch that doesn’t ever fall over.

  ‘But… but…’ she said. It was all she could say, as suddenly, something happened.

  Bill Johnso began to change.

  Lightning cracked. Thunder bellowed. The floor shook like the worst earthquake that the room had ever experienced.

  Dr K
elly’s tits jiggled so much she had to hold onto them for dear life. What was going on? What was happening? Was she in a nightmare?

  Then BOOM. Dr Kelly was blown back, her tits cushioning her fall as she tumbled into the wall then down to the floor. Dr Bilkin Cherubs wouldn’t have survived that fall, thought Dr Kelly.

  The double bed crunched and there was a groan.

  As the smoke that had filled the room cleared, Dr Kelly stared at the space Dr Bill Johnso had been in. Had been, being the appropriate words.

  Because, no longer was Bill Johnso lying on the double bed. In his place was a man almost 175% his size. His clothes had torn away, and were now a pile of shredded rags on the floor. His muscles were even more muscular, bulging and rippling and massive.

  But that wasn’t the strangest thing.

  No.

  The strangest thing was… he was blue.

  And not just a little blue, either. But icy blue.

  But, holy shit, thought Dr Kelly, her eyes moving down to his cock. Well, technically it was a cock, but it looked more like a birthday party clown’s balloon prior to it being turned into a balloon animal.

  It was big. Super big.

  ‘Bill Johnso, are you okay?’ asked Dr Kelly.

  ‘No,’ he said.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Bill Johnso is gone. I am him, now.’

  ‘Who are you?’

  ‘My name is Cure.’

  Dr Kelly’s hand shot to her mouth, then slid slowly down to her big left boob.

  ‘And you are—’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, anticipating her question. ‘I am the Cure.’

  Dr Kelly’s vagina did a somersault. Could it be true? The Cure? The very thing she had been getting herself off with, due to her lack of dogging opportunities?

  Cure swung his mammoth legs across the bed and stood. He was so tall his head grazed the ceiling. But Dr Kelly didn’t look at his head for long. Well, not that head, anyway.

  Oh, screw professionalism, thought Dr Kelly.

  ‘I’d like to suck your cock, now,’ she said.

  Cure nodded. So commanding and cool. Her saviour.

  Dr Kelly dove at Cure’s cock.

  It was so big, so heavy, like a long beanbag pumping with thick blood. She took it so far back into her mouth his blue balls swung against her chin and knocked into her beautiful, big titties.