The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I was in the kitchen in my tennis shorts and gray polo shirt when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and greeted the two of them, ushering them into the room. Denise was wearing a light summer dress with spaghetti straps, obviously without a bra. Carol was wearing a tight fitting blouse and a pleated skirt. Denise and I talked pleasantly as I barbecued the steaks and she had Carol pour us each some wine. As I tended to the grill I mentally observed Carol staring at my butt. As we started dinner she was very quiet, never saying more than a few words at a time. I implanted a desire to open up to me and to tell me all about herself, including the intimate details of her sex life. She talked about growing up in Georgia with her mother and aunt. Her father had been killed in a car accident when she was only 3 years old.

“Did you date much as a teenager?” I asked as I planted a need and desire to be completely open and honest with me.

“I wanted to, but my mother wouldn’t let me. She always said that there was only one thing that boys wanted on a date and that having sex with a boy was very bad because they only cared about themselves. I liked boys...a lot, but I couldn’t date so I would just dress sexy and enjoy the way they looked at me.

One night my mom came down to the living room while I was watching TV. She was wearing her pajamas and was carring a paper bag. She sat down and said we had to have a talk as she picked up the remote and turned off the TV. I knew what was coming. I told her that I already studied sex ed in school.

‘Did they tell you about the difference between having sex with a man and having sex with another woman?’ she asked.

‘Mom!’ I said, ‘that’s gross.’

‘Oh no, Denise,’ she said, ‘sex between two women is far better than with a man. Men are always so rough and selfish. It’s always the same way, they get hard, they shove it in you, they have an orgasm, then they pull out and go to sleep. They never think about anyone but themselves. But making love to a woman is much different. It starts out slow, with petting and caressing... and kissing. Then gradually builds as you each try to give the other as much pleasure as possible caressing each other’s breasts and pussy. This can go on for a long time because a woman can have more than one orgasm.’

‘Have you ever had sex with another woman, mom?’ I asked.

‘Oh, yes,’ she replied, ‘lots of times. Aunt Peggy and I do it almost every night.’

‘Jeeze, mom,’ I said, ‘you mean you and Aunt Peggy are lesbians?’

‘Yes, dear,’ she replied, ‘and it’s wonderful having an intimate relationship with someone who really understands how you feel.’

‘But don’t you ever want to feel a... you know... a...p-p-penis in you?’

Mom laughed a little at my naiveté. ‘Yes, I’ll have to admit that some times a woman needs more than a tongue or a finger or two in her pussy. That’s what these are for,’ she said as she pulled a big plastic cock out of the bag she had next to her.

I took it from her almost afraid to touch it holding it by my finger and my thumb.

‘It’s okay, Denise, it won’t burn you,’ she said as she took it back, wrapped her fingers around it, and rubbed it up and down. ‘It feels even better when it’s wet,’ she said as she stuck it in her mouth and pushed it in and out a few times. Then she took it out and wrapped her fingers around it again, stroking it up and down real fast.

‘Here, you try it,’ she said wiping it off on a towel and handing it to me.

I grabbed hold of it and was surprised that even though it was big and hard, the outer surface of it was soft and pliable almost like real skin. I put it in my mouth and slid it in and out a few times till I realized that my pussy was getting very wet. I wrapped my hand around it and stroked it up and down a few times.

‘But, how do I do it to myself down there,’ I asked. ‘Do I just shove it in?’

‘Well, no,’ she responded, ‘not if you don’t want it to hurt. That’s how a man would do it, but not a woman. Here, give it to me and I’ll show you.’

She stood up and removed her PJs, both top and bottom. I saw her big heavy breasts and then noticed that she didn’t have any hair on her pussy.

‘Mom,’ I said, ‘you don’t have any hair on your vagina!’

‘No, dear, I shave it to keep it smooth and clean. And let’s call it a pussy, dear. Vagina sounds too clinical.’

She sat down again and took the cock from me. After sticking it in her mouth to get it good and wet she rubbed the tip of it on the upper part of her pussy opening.

‘Rubbing it on your clit feels real good and helps get the pussy juices flowing,’ she said. ‘Then you push it in real slow. Just a little at first then a little deeper each time.’ As she described how to do it she demonstrated slowly pushing it in and drawing it out, deeper and deeper until it was all the way in.

I was mesmerized by the site of the big penis sliding in and out of my mother’s naked pussy. I was fascinated by the way it puckered her lips inward as she pushed the penis in, stretching her wider and wider, then puffed her lips out as she withdrew it. As she pulled it out it was all shiny with her juices all over it, then she pushed it in again. When she had it all the way in she let go of it and spread her lips with one hand as she rubbed her clit with the other hand. Then she grabbed it again and pushed it in and out faster, tickling her clit with her thumb each time it was all the way in. With her other hand she massaged her breasts and pinched her nipples. I just sat there staring at the penis sliding easily in and out if her pussy and watching her hand squeezing her tits, lifting them up and down. She started to moan, ramming herself harder and harder until she exploded in a climax. My panties were soaking wet by now and I could hardly wait until I could make myself have an orgasm like my mother just did. After she settled down, my mom removed the penis from her pussy and stuck it in her mouth.

‘Sex juice tastes so good,’ she said. Then she wiped it off with the towel and handed it to me saying, ‘Here, it’s yours now. You go up to your room and get familiar with it.’

I took it from her and headed upstairs to my bedroom, practically running. As I looked back, mom was sitting there on the couch naked with her eyes closed, her legs spread wide apart, and one hand still massaging her pussy. When I got to my room I closed the door, pratically tore my clothes off, lay down on the bed and pistoned myself to orgasm with my new best friend. From that day on I used it on myself practically every night, imagining that it was one of the football players pounding into me.

I actually had a boyfriend for a short time in high school, but I never let mom find out. He used to pick me up after school and we would drive to a vacant lot where we would make out. I would unbutton my blouse and pull up my bra so he could play with my breasts and I would pull up my skirt so he could finger my pussy. Then I would unzip his pants and stroke his dick until he came. Then we would hurriedly fix our clothing and he would drive me home dropping me off a couple of blocks away so mom would think I had walked home. As soon as I got inside I would go right up to my room, grab my plastic dick, which I called Richard, and pump myself until I had an orgasm. Our fun only lasted for about a month, though because his dad got a job in Mobile and he moved away on my eighteenth birthday.”

Suddenly realizing the intimate details that she had just revealed, Carol became very quiet again, so I turned to Denise and asked her questions about how she got started in the clothing business. As we talked, Denise eventually asked where the ladies room was and told Carol to pour us some more wine. While they were gone I reached into Carol’s mind again and gave her a desire to tell me more about her sex life, especially the rape. I gave her a vision of my cock and stroked her sexual stimulus point. When she returned with the wine I saw that she had unbuttoned a couple of buttons of her blouse and she said something about how warm it was. As she leaned over to hand the wine to me I got a good view of her swelling tits.

“I’m sorry,” I said apologetically, “I should turn down the thermostat. I grew up in the snow belt of the northeast, being cold all the time, so I tend to keep the house a little warmer than most people like.”