The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Power

Part 3

Along around the beginning of November an astonishingly strange thing occurred, or at least it seemed strange at the time. It was Friday night and the only one going out on a date was Sue! Both Mom’s and my dates came down with the flu, while Sue announced that she was going to her first high school dance. She was very excited, since this was to be her first ‘date’ date. Mom had said no dating until sixteen, but had relented so that we could date once we got to high school, and my sister had been asked to go by a fellow in his junior year. Bobby Pritzer was a thin-as-a-rail pimply computer geek, but what the hey, it was her love life.

He was picking her up about eight or so, so after nervously trying things on in her room, she called Mom and me in and asked, “So, how do I look?”

Mom didn’t say anything right away, and I kind of simply stared. I guess I wasn’t too tactful when I replied, “You’re wearing that?”

Sue got real red and demanded, “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Sue was dressed quite casually, but not what I like a woman to wear on a date. Her baggy black blue jeans did not cover the fact that her shoes were black Doc Martens and her oversized red sweater had a really wide neck, so that it tended to sag off one shoulder, exposing a plain white bra. “Nothing.", I said, “if you want to hang out at the mall with your friends. I thought you were going out to a dance.”

“Mom!", she screamed.

Mom looked at me disapprovingly, but before she could say anything I used The Power. <Work on her.>, I thought to my mother. <Dress her up in something pretty and sexy. Lose this get-up.> To Sue I thought, <Listen to Mom. Cool down.>

“Now dear, I really think your brother, in his cruel and tactless fashion, has a point. This should be a big night, so maybe we can find something in my closet for you. I’ll just bet we’re close enough in size that I have a nice dress for you.” Mom took Sue by the elbow and began propelling her down the hall to her room. I tagged along.

“A dress!? But I don’t have time to get all dressed up. Bobby’ll be here in fifteen minutes!", Sue complained.

“What’s his number?", I asked. Sue stared for a second, then told me. “Watch and learn.”

Going to Mom’s bedside table I picked up the phone and called the Pritzer’s. Bobby answered. “Bobby, Paul Harron, how you doing? Listen, my sister asked me to call, she’s running a bit late, she needs you to come over a half hour late...No, no problem, she’s just getting all dolled up...I am not bullshitting you Bobby...Yes, she’s going to look like a million bucks...Now listen Bobby, I would suggest you wear something decent, you know, a suit or jacket, and a real shirt with a real tie...Fuck you too my friend...So what if I’m lying to you. What’s the worst that could happen, you take off the jacket and tie. But if I’m telling the truth and you look skanky and she’s gorgeous, you look like the asshole that you are...Same to you...See you at eight-thirty...Bye.” I turned back to my family and said, “There, problem solved. And you, sweet sister mine, are now obligated to get dressed up.”

Sue looked daggers at me and Mom told me she didn’t like my language, but she said it with a smile. I grabbed my cane (I had just graduated to a single cane) and wandered down the hall. I was downstairs when the doorbell rang, right on the dot at eight-thirty, and opened it as Mom came down the stairs. I let Bobby Pritzer in and was pleased that he had dressed up as well as his geekiness allowed. At least he had on a shirt, tie, and jacket.

“Hi, Bobby, Sue is still getting ready.", said Mom. Looking up the stairs, she called out, “Sue, Bobby’s here.”

Around half a minute later, Sue made her entrance down the stairs, and Bobby’s jaw hit the floor. Literally! He was standing there goggle-eyed with his mouth wide open. My sister looked outstanding! Mom had loaned her a dress, which while conservative for Mom, was a far cry from what Sue normally wore. It was a dark brown print, calf length, with buttons from the hem to the waist up the front. About two-thirds were unbuttoned, showing her legs to several inches above the knee. Above the waist, it had a pair of wide, sort of like, straps, which wrapped around to the back and were tied in a bow, letting a woman tighten it to give a very figure flattering look. The neck-line was quite broad and circular, showing a trace of cleavage, and showed almost all of her shoulders. Mom had even loaned Sue a pair of low (for Mom!) two inch high heels. Sue had balked at makeup, but Mom had brushed out her hair, and she glowed in a wholesome manner. No doubt, she was a showstopper, and would probably be the belle of the ball.

Sue seemed delighted by the effect her appearance made and milked it for all it was worth, even twirling once at the foot of the stairs. “Well, how do I look?", she asked.

Reaching out, I tapped Bobby’s chin, and he closed his mouth. Coming out of his trance, he simply said, “Wow!", to which Mom and I laughed loudly.

“Offer the lady your arm, doofus.", I said. Bobby gave me a dirty look, but then smiled at Sue and cocked his arm out and she slipped her arm through with a grin. Then Mom gave Sue a kiss on the cheek and we sent them out. As they went down the steps, I called out, “Now Bobby, make sure you pay lots of attention to your date tonight, cause if you don’t, about twenty other guys will!” Both Mom and Sue laughed at that.

Mom and I stood in the doorway watching, Mom leaning against me, while I had an arm around her shoulder, as they got in his car and drove off. Finally Mom looked up at me and laughed. “Well, Pa, our little girl is growing up.”

I laughed too as I closed the door, then followed Mom back upstairs. She went down the hall to her room and I followed, to see her picking dresses off her bed and putting them back on hangers. I leaned against the door.

“I’m surprised, Mom. There is no way she could wear a bra with that dress.”

Mom looked over at me but kept cleaning up. “Sure, she could, if it was a strapless bra.”

“Sue owns a strapless bra?", I asked incredulously.

Mom smiled and picked up a pair of scissors. “She does now.”

I laughed. “You couldn’t lend her one of yours?”

“Paul, we’re not quite the same size, yet, although if she keeps growing up, I suppose we will be someday soon. I guess I’ll have to take her out and teach her about lingerie soon.”

“Buy her some new underwear, huh?”

“It’s not quite the same thing, Paul.”

“So what’s the difference.” <Tell me. Show me.> I was starting to get fairly turned on by where this conversation was going. Let’s see where it could take us.

Mom hung the last dress in her closet and turned to face me. “Well, underwear you wear for yourself, lingerie you wear for someone else.”


“Uh, huh.” She held up one of Sue’s plain white bras. “This is underwear.” Dropping the bra on the bed, she grabbed the hem of her blue tank top. “And this is lingerie.” So saying you whisked the tank top over her head and stood facing me in a small blue underwired brassiere. It was cut exceedingly low and was so transparent her nipples were visible through it. The overall effect was to lift her full breasts and present them for viewing (or whatever!) as if on a platter.

“That’s very interesting.", I said. “Does that come with a counterpart?", I asked, as my gaze dropped down past her narrow waist and deep belly button to her cut-off shorts.

In response Mom simply undid her waist button on the shorts and lowered the zipper. Pushing them down off her hips, she let them slide down her legs and stepped out of them. Her panties were part of a matching set, blue, quite small, and very transparent, although they seemed opaque enough to hide her pubic bush, which I couldn’t see. “See, this is not what you could call underwear.", she said. “Now, get out of here while I get dressed.”

I straightened up without taking my eyes off of her. “Don’t change on my account. I like seeing beautiful women running around in their unmentionables.”

Mom smiled at the compliment. “Shoo.”

As I turned and left, I smiled back. Silently I used The Power to tell her that I liked seeing her in lingerie, and that she should wear it often in my presence.

* * *

By mid-December, I was stuck at home. Sue was at a girlfriend’s house for a combination birthday party-sleepover and Mom was on a date. I was dateless again, for the simple reason that Jenny and I had broken up. I had not used The Power to force her to be with me, only to make her my girlfriend. Well, boyfriends and girlfriends usually break up at some point, and so had we. In truth, Jenny had always had a bit of a roving eye and had begun flirting with a senior. And for my part, I had been dabbling on the side anyway.

My dalliances were at the gym where I worked out three times a week. I was no longer in therapy but it was recommended that I continue to exercise, so I had joined a health club. On my third visit, I had noticed a good-looking middle-aged woman, forty or so, watching my progress closely, almost as if she was interested in me. As she passed by me, which she did several times, I sent out a thought, <Answer me. Like what you see?>

“Yes.", she verbalized.

<Let’s get acquainted.> “Hi, I’m Paul Harron.", I said.

The lady stuck out her hand, “Sherry Lanst. How do you do?”

<If you want me, let’s go somewhere and get it on.>

Sherry had a puzzled look on her face for a moment, as if she was coming to a decision. Then she came closer to me and lowered her voice. “Paul, don’t be offended, but I find you very arousing. Would you like to come over to my place for coffee, or whatever?", she asked.

Wow, talk about arousing! My dick, bent over inside my jock strap, tried unsuccessfully to rip through my shorts! “Sherry, I am not in the least offended. Why don’t we clean up and I’ll meet you in the lobby in fifteen minutes.” We separated, whereupon I took the fastest shower in history, during the longest fifteen minutes of my life. Truth be told, we got to the lobby within a minute of each other.

“Follow me in your car. I live about ten minutes from here.", she said.

Sherry lived in a suburb on the west side of town and it was easy enough to follow behind her. I parked on the street and went up the walk to the door which she had left slightly open. I pushed it open and went in, closing it behind me. The first thing I noticed was her sweater, which was laying on the floor where she had thrown it.

“I’m up here.” She called out.

I picked up the shirt and went upstairs, picking up a T-shirt and a bra that I found on the stairs and in the hallway. As I entered her bedroom I saw that she was sitting on the bed, kicking off her shoes and tugging off her jeans. Standing, she pushed them and her panties together down her legs. Naked she lounged back on her bed and said, “Well, don’t just stand there, get undressed.” I got undressed. We never took our eyes off each other. My cock was fully erect by the time I had my briefs off.

Sherry may have been older than my mother, but she was still a fine looking woman. A medium-height, medium-build bottle blonde, she had nice legs, firm breasts, a slim waist, and a triangularly trimmed brown bush. With much anticipation I crawled onto the bed and stretched out next to her.

We immediately began to kiss and stroke each other’s sides. As soon as I begin to fondle her breasts, she reached between us to stroke my cockshaft, whereupon I promptly moved a hand down to her crotch to finger her clit, while licking and sucking the breast I had abandoned. She was quite wet and began to jack on me so that I began to worry I was going to pop off in her hand when Sherry shuddered and came. Releasing me, she raised her arms above her head and reveled in the sensations emanating from her crotch. As she came down, she began to stroke me again, leaning in to lick my neck and upper chest. I lay there on my back, stroking her sides as she began to give me a hand job, then I lightly pressured her shoulders to tell her to move her head downstairs. Taking the hint, Sherry kissed and licked her way to my dick, which she gently took into her mouth.

Within a few minutes, my ladyfriend had a nice bobbing and sucking action going on in my groin, and I decided to return the favor. “Swing your ass up here. I think you need a mustache ride.", I said.

Sherry stopped her fellatio and looked up at me and giggled. “Really? What, sixty-nine?", she asked. I nodded and she repositioned herself, straddling my face and gently lowering her pussy to my lips. After my first few licks, she said, “God that feels good! My husband never wants to eat my pussy.", then lowered her own face back to my dick. Husband? Oh, well, hopefully he wouldn’t come home any time soon, and if he did, I would have to use The Power to make him forget.

Sherry’s hubby may not have liked giving head, but I suspected he enjoyed getting it, because Sherry was fairly talented. He was probably also smaller than me, since she never took more than about half my length in, but boy that half got a real treat. Her tongue was doing a dance all over my cockhead, while she continued to bob up and down, all the while with the suction of a vacuum cleaner. It was all I could do to concentrate on licking her clitoris, and much too soon I cried out, “Oh, God, I’m coming!” Sherry simply stopped bobbing, leaving the tip of my cock in her mouth and she sucked and swallowed my come.

Untangling ourselves, Sherry stretched out by my side again, gently fondling my flaccid penis and kissed me. I could taste myself on her lips, a not unpleasant taste, but one which gave me a somewhat homophobic feeling nonetheless. We talked while she fondled me to hardness once again. Her only daughter was away at college and Frank, her husband, was out of town on a business trip, so nobody would disturb our interlude. We could fuck as long as we wanted. Apparently, they both had frequent little affairs.

As soon as I was rigid again, Sherry climbed atop me and sank down on my manhood. Not too tight, not too loose, just right! I placed my hands on her hips to gently guide her motions as she began to slowly bounce on my cock. For her part, Sherry began to pinch and twist her pert little pink nipples. As I brought my thumbs around to her front to rub her clitoris, Sherry began to moan with pleasure. Her shudders got us both off a little too soon, and she stretched out on top of me, with my cock inside her, and nuzzled.

For our next act, Sherry got on her knees and I positioned myself behind her for a nice doggy style fuck. I had sunk in to the hilt and we were bucking against each other quite spiritedly when we separated just a bit too much and my dick popped out of her cunt. On the in stroke, my cockhead butted against her asshole.

“Wait, honey.", she said. She scrambled over to her nightstand and pulled a drawer open. Reaching in she pulled out a small tube and handed it to me. “Use this first, please.” Sherry moved back into position, spreading her legs wide and lowering her face to the covers, raising her ass even higher in the air.

The tube was KY jelly; Sherry mistook our movements for an initiation of anal sex! Well, I was game, if ignorant. “Uh, you sure? I’ve never...", I said.

Sherry looked back over her shoulder at me with a big smile. “Really? Frank and I just love to assfuck. It’s just so naughty!” So saying she led me through the basics, squirting some out onto her anus, gently poking some up her asshole with a finger, and spreading some more on my cock. When we were prepared, she leaned back down to the bed and relaxed her ass. “Now, just put the tip in and give me a chance to get used to it. Don’t rush. Once it’s in, I’ll open up some more and then we can fuck our brains out. Just go slow and things will be just fine.”

“Okay, you’re the expert.”

It took me a good minute to force my cockhead into the little brown pucker and I damn near pulled out when she gave a semi-pained grunt on my entrance. “Okay”, she said through gritted teeth, “now slowly start sliding it in deeper.”

I began to carefully comply, both concerned for her and in awe of the intense tightness of her ass. “Are you all right?", I asked.

Sherry let out a long breath as I sank home. “Oh, God, yeah. It’s just that you’re so much bigger than Frank. I’ve never had a bigger dick in my ass. Oh, it feels so good. Now, fuck me, fuck me!”

Well, you don’t have to hit me with a rock to get me to go along. She wanted it, she got it! I slowly pulled my dick backwards until only the tip was still inside, then pushed it back in until my balls were swinging against her pussy lips. Sherry moaned in appreciation, so I repeated the procedure at a faster pace. Good Lord but she felt good. I stared down at the little brown ring, stretched to seeming bursting around my erection, and reveled in the sensation traveling the length of my cock. This was simply fantastic! I shoved back in faster and Sherry had her first anal orgasm of our session, crying out in ecstasy. She came twice more before I couldn’t stand the pleasure and grunted loudly, collapsing onto her back as my cock twitched and spasmed, my balls pumping a major load of come into her entrails.

Once we came down off our high and disentangled, I realized I had given her a load in every orifice and I was fairly wiped out. I needed to get home. Looking down at my shit stained dick I was mildly revolted and asked to use the shower. Sherry sleepily nodded and stretched out on the bed. Gathering my clothes I retreated to her bathroom for a good shower.

When I came out, I found Sherry sitting on the toilet, with a short terry bathrobe on. I began to think of a going away present, but continued to dress. By the time I was all tucked in, she cleaned herself and stood. Taking me by the hand, she led me back downstairs. Stopping at the mirrored buffet, she drew me to her and kissed me long and sweetly. “That was simply super, Paul. Maybe sometime we can do this again.” I doubted her sincerity, but not that she had enjoyed herself. Looking down at her cleavage, quite visible through the fairly open top of her robe, I smiled. Placing my hands on her waist, I turned her to face the mirror. Unzipping quickly, I pushed my pants far enough down to expose my hardon, then pushed between her legs and entered her from the rear. Gasping with pleasure, Sherry stripped off her robe and watched me fuck her from the rear in the mirror. This was a short and vigorous screw. When I was done, I simply pulled my pants back up, kissed her and left her standing there, panting and well-fucked.

And so I developed a very successful, non-coercive, technique for getting laid. Simply use The Power to let women get past their inhibitions. If they wanted me, simply come and get me. Forget the kids, the hubby, the neighbors. Forget age differences or social status. Forget everything. If you want to fuck me, ask me. It is astonishing just how successful this is. Women often look at men and wonder just how he would be in bed, but for all the reasons above, and more, don’t act on it. I let them. If you want to fuck me, I’m up for you, and you won’t have any regrets afterwards.

Sherry was only the first of many one-night (or one-afternoon) stands with now liberated women. I screwed other women from the gym, some older, some not, a few cheerleaders, a store clerk or two. One time I liberated a gorgeous blonde college student who ignored me and went to the bathroom, so I used The Power on her brunette friend. Was I ever surprised when the blonde came out of the bathroom and walked up to me and propositioned me, right after her friend had! They took me back to their dorm and both did me. Then there was the spectacular 52-year-old socialite, a silver-haired widow and grand-mother, who walked up to me in the mall one evening and announced her intention to take me back to her home and use me for her pleasure, leaving me nothing but “a dried husk” in the morning. I called Mom and said I was spending the night at a friend’s (I was, so to speak) and left with her, to be damned near a dried husk by lunchtime the next day.

* * *

So, anyway, there I was on a Saturday night by myself around the house. I was wearing sweatpants and an old bathrobe, reading a magazine and watching TV when I heard the front door open. Mom came in, to the tune of clicking high heels and a muttered, “That rat bastard!", and then she slammed the door shut. It was fairly early in the evening.

“Mom? What’s wrong?” <Tell me.>

Mom stormed into the living room. She was dressed quite nicely, Heels, stockings, a rather short skirt, dark green bustier under a jacket which pinched in at the waist, emphasizing the considerable cleavage she was showing. “That dirty rat Frank Harris is what’s wrong! That’s the last time I ever go out with him, let me tell you!”

“What happened? Cool down.”

“Let me change out of this and I’ll tell you.", she said, heading upstairs. While she changed, I put down my magazine and straightened up the living room a bit. Not that it was a mess, but Mom wasn’t in a good mood, so ‘Be Prepared’.

Mom came back down in a few minutes in an interesting ensemble I had seen a few times. Since that night when Sue had her date and I had thought to Mom to wear lingerie more often around the house, Mom often went around more informally. It was no longer unusual to see Mom puttering around with only a lacy bra and shorts, bra and panty sets, or negligees. I found this most stimulating and approved whole-heartedly. After Mom had lost her date clothes, she had slipped into a short chemise and robe set, with fluffy high-heeled slippers. She looked pretty good. Crossing the living room to the kitchen, she returned with a glass of white wine.

“So, what happened?", I asked. <Tell me everything.>

“That bastard Frank—he’s married!", she exclaimed.

“Oh, ho. That would be a problem.", I said.

Mom downed about half her wine. “That’s not the problem. It’s that he lied to me about it.", she said.

I must have looked rather surprised at this. Marriage was not the problem? Mom sipped some more wine and smiled at me. “Really, Paul, being married is not that big a deal. I mean, you know I’ve dated regularly for years. I’ve dated married men before, or at least separated men. That’s no big deal, as long as we’re both open about our marital status. But he lied to me about it. He told me they were separated.”

Okay, I thought slowly. “So how did you find out? Did she run across the two of you at dinner or something?”

“In a manner of speaking. We were in the bar over at the Holiday Inn, having a few drinks. Frank had already gotten a key for a room, and we were simply relaxing. We had been seeing each other for a few weeks. Well, we were getting comfortable when he signals a blonde over at the bar and she comes over to us and sits down. He introduces her to me as his wife, Marjorie, and wants to know if I would be interested in a three-way with them! Of all the nerve.", said Mom, as she finished her wine. She stood to refill her glass.

Holy shit! This idiot lied to my Mom and then proposed an orgy!? Mom came back from the kitchen and settled down into an armchair, crossing those beauteous legs nicely. My mouth must have been hanging open caused she looked funny at me.

“A three-way?", I asked, not sure I had heard her correctly.

Mom simply tossed this off. “Oh, that’s nothing. I’ve done those before. It was the fact that he lied to me about his wife. If he had simply told me ahead of time that he was auditioning potential partners, maybe I wouldn’t have gotten pissed.”

Well, you could have knocked me over with a feather. My mother had just told me she got into bisexual sex! Mom finished off her second glass of wine and went out to the kitchen for a third. On the trip back, she caught her heel on the rug and spilled it on her outfit.

“Oh, shit!", she exclaimed. “Now I’ll have to change.”

“Maybe it’s only the robe.", I said. “Take it off and I’ll put it in the sink to soak.” Mom undid the waist sash and removed the robe to hand to me. I took it from her and pushed her towards the couch. “Now, sit down, relax, and cool off.” Mom looked REALLY good, in a very short chemise, cut very high on the hips (no panties possible!) and quite low in the front, the satin barely covering her nipples and held up by only the thinnest of straps. She sat down and crossed her legs sensuously. I tossed the robe in the sink with some cold water and detergent and refilled her glass.

When I came back, I handed her the glass and sat back down in my original spot, now next to her, to her left. She still seemed tense so I used The Power. <Relax. Calm down. Cool off.> I stretched both arms along the back of the couch and Mom immediately relaxed, leaning against me, snuggling into my chest. Surprised, I glanced down at Mom. The hem of her chemise barely covered the vee of her legs, and I could easily see the outlines and even the upper curves of her nipples at her neckline. Holy shit, but did she look hot! Leaning into me, she sipped her wine as a new movie came on the cable channel.

It being late on a Saturday night, the movie was definitely risqué, a hard R rating. Lots of tits-and-ass, considerable full frontal nudity, lots of simulated sex. If anything, I was somewhat embarrassed, but I seemed stuck now, with Mom nestling under my arm. I fought my mounting erection only to discover her left hand lightly scratching along my right thigh! Looking down, I saw my own mother was lightly rubbing her hand along my thigh. She had slumped down slightly and her right strap had come down her shoulder, fully exposing a magnificently large breast. Her tits were quite sizable, sagging only slightly, and her nipples, both of which I could plainly see, were fully erect, very wide and extended. Best of all, her chemise had slid up her thighs and her pudenda was fully exposed. The reason I could see no shadow of pubic hair through her panties was now obvious—she had none! Her pussy was shaved as bald as a baby’s behind!

Wow! Apparently my thoughts to her to relax had worked all too well. When my mother was dressed in a nightie, lounging next to a man on a couch, she relaxed by getting him turned on. And probably by fucking him silly, too! My half-erection went to full power, causing my cock to act as a tentpole in my sweatpants.

Mom seemed not to realize the man she was arousing was her own son, and she moved her left hand higher, gingerly touching me through my pants. Then she stiffened, jerking her hand off of me, straightening up and looking at me with shocked concern. She was on the verge of saying something when I reacted as well.

<It’s all right. It’s all right!> Silently I reached out with my left hand and gently placed it back on the tentpole. Instinctively she grasped it through the loose cloth. <Everything’s fine. It’s all right. Go ahead.>

A slight shudder went through my mother’s shoulders and she began to slowly fist my dick through my pants. Left-handed, I untied the knot holding them around my waist. Mom almost immediately pulled the waist band down below cock level and my cock sprang out of it’s confinement, pointing at the ceiling. Mom gasped quietly as she saw my above-average size, “Oh my!", and wrapping her left hand around it, began to slowly jerk me off.

I was in heaven! My stunningly beautiful mother was seated next to me, giving the best hand job of my life. Her hand was velvety smooth and my hips began an involuntary thrusting, driving my cock into her hand. After a couple of minutes a small bead of pre-come appeared at the tip of my cockhead. I reached down with my left forefinger and wiped the drop up, holding my finger up to her lips. As she looked me in the eyes, her lips opened and I placed the tip of my forefinger in her mouth. Her eyes closed sensuously and she began sucking on the tip of my finger, all the while keeping up her hand job. I groaned with pleasure and as she pulled her head back, she opened her eyes and gave a shy smile. Looking down, she could see the steady flow of pre-come pulsing from my manhood, coating the tip and trickling down to her fingers. Bending her head down, she lowered her face to my crotch, and opening her mouth wide, took me between her lips.

“Oh, God, that feels good.", I whispered. Mom began to slowly bob her face on my dick, licking and sucking the tip. “Don’t stop...don’t me, Mom, do me...oh, that’s good... more, more...", I whimpered quietly. By now, Mom had kicked off her slippers and was half-kneeling on the couch as she sucked me off. Her chemise had risen to her waist, affording me a great view of a pair of globularly perfect asscheeks, and the top had dropped down her arms so that she was half-naked. As my right hand stroked her lower back and ass, my left hand gently twined through her hair. Taking this as a sign of approval, Mom began to take me deeper into her mouth, and in another three or four strokes I was amazed to feel the head of my cock gently butting against the back of her throat. Wow, deep-throat! This was my first experience at this, and I loved it. Mom continued to suck, and I could feel my balls tightening as I was driven to orgasm.

“Oh, yeah, Mom, that’s it...keep sucking...I’m going to come...oh, God...I’m coming, I’m coming...", I called out weakly as I felt the pulse of jism rising through my erection. Amazingly, Mom didn’t draw back, but pushed my cock in even deeper as I jetted into her, continuing to suck and swallow as I blasted shot after shot down her throat. Finally, my dick stopped pumping and Mom moved to sit up.

I gently pressed her smiling face back into my lap. “No, keep going. Get me hard again.", I asked. Mom quietly complied, licking my entire groin area, my cock and my balls, and my upper thighs, now spread wide. Then, as I began to feel my cock stirring to life again, she took my semi-flaccidness back into her mouth and began sucking again. In moments I was erect enough to fill her mouth and go a second round.

I gently tugged on Mom’s shoulders and she pulled off my dick, waving wetly in the air, and knelt next to me with a smile. Grinning, I grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto my lap, facing me, and Mom knelt to straddle me. Pulling her towards me, I lifted her onto my cock, and firmly pushed her pussy onto my hardness.

Well, I figured, I can die now, ‘cause I’ve surely seen heaven! Mom slowly sank down onto my turgid dick with a low moan of pleasure. I pulled the chemise off her head and tossed it aside, to see her bounce on my cock in all her glory. Her shoulder length red hair bounced in curls around her angelic face. Her breasts were simply stupendous, full and firm, yet soft to the touch, with the most sensitive nipples, a dark coral in color, with areolas almost two inches wide, and jutting out almost another inch. Her waist was so narrow I could almost circumnavigate it with my hands, and her navel was a deep jewel. Below, I could see her clit prominent above my thrusting cock, framed by her shaved pubic lips. She was well shaved (well, she had gone out tonight with the idea of getting fucked, after all!) and nowhere on her belly, hips, legs, or tits did I see a single stretch mark.

Mom was very tight, yet very well lubricated, so we slid together easily. Most important of all, Mom was easily aroused and highly orgasmic. Almost from the moment she sank down fully on me, she began to moan and cry out with pleasure. She was very vocal, telling me repeatedly that she was coming, almost non-stop. I was very happy with this, since I wanted our first fuck to be a great fuck. As Mom bounced on my hard dick, her cunt began to almost spasm around my cock, tugging and pulling at it as she rose on her knees and dropped back down to rub her clit against me. My left hand rode on her hip as she bounced, while my right reached up to cup her breasts and bring them to my lips. Mom began to cry out even louder as I suckled her nipples in succession, thrusting them at me as she ground her cunt into my crotch. She was practically screaming in pleasure by the time I felt my second coming spurting upwards towards the womb I was born from.

She collapsed into my chest as we came down, my dick slowly dropping from her cunt with a small rush of our mixed come. Crawling off my lap, she smiled and said, “Let’s go to bed, honey.” Grinning, I pulled up my pants and picked up her discarded clothing and slippers. Hand in hand we went upstairs.

We got very little sleep that night. Once in her bedroom, Mom lay back on her cushions, her hands above her head and her legs spread wide as I stripped my clothes off. Seeing her glorious beauty spread out before me, I was erect again by the time I was undressed. Seeing my hardon, she giggled, and said, “Paul, I have an idea. Why don’t you get on top of me and put your dick in my pussy. If you move it around fast enough, I bet we’ll both enjoy it.” Laughing, I got on the bed and did just that, a long, vigorous, sweaty fuck.

Afterwards, we took a shower together in her cramped and small shower. I was too pooped to fuck her there (not to mention that without heels, Mom is almost too short to screw standing up), but I pulled the massage shower head off it’s bracket and held it to her cunt. Mom came in a screaming orgasm as the frothy remains of our passion washed out of her pussy. Barely toweled off, we retired to an extended session of sixty-nine, then went to sleep. Sort of. A few hours later I was awakened by a dream of an incredible blowjob, only to find Mom sucking me to stiffness, then mounting me. Later on, I stirred awake, pressed spoon fashion against my mother’s ass, so I took her that way, from behind, as she was half asleep but fully aroused. Daybreak found us fucking once more, and we screwed again before separating, Mom to dress and collect Sue, me to clean up the mess.

She kissed me as she left the house, not a motherly kiss, but a lover’s kiss. “This could be complicated.", she said. “We have to behave around your sister.”

“So we take it one day at a time. This just sort of happened. I don’t want to mess things up. I love you, and not just as a lover.", I said.

“I love you, too, Paul.", she said, rubbing her hand along my chin. “And I want to keep going out, to see other men, too. Can you understand that?”

“Sure. I plan on seeing other girls, as well. But I’ll always be here for you, and not just as your wonderful Eagle Scout son. If you want, maybe some nights after Sue goes to sleep, if you feel like it, we might get together again.”

Mom smiled and nodded and left to get my sister.

* * *

Nothing much happened between us for a few days, then Tuesday night Mom and I managed to get together again. It was evening and the three of us were just puttering around in the living room. Sue was working on homework while watching television, Mom was doing something or other in the kitchen, and I was reading on the couch, not really paying attention to the TV. At nine Mom came out and told Sue it was time to go to bed, and though she grumbled, she left and went upstairs.

The rule in the house was that as you got older, you could stay up later. At fourteen you could stay up till 9:00, at fifteen, 10:00, and by sixteen and older, 11:00. This was on school days; on weekends and holidays, you could stay up till whenever you wanted. Sue hated this, complaining that I could stay up later, but we basically ignored her, and Mom was tough.

About ten-thirty or so, Mom finished what she was doing in the kitchen and came out into the living room. She was wearing a long velour robe, cinched tight about her waist, that covered her from neck to toes. Sitting down next to me, she asked what I was reading.

Placing my finger between the pages, I flipped the cover shut and showed her. “The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire, by Gibbon.", I said. I flipped it open again.

Mom seemed impressed. Crossing her legs so that a knee showed, she said, “Wow! That’s pretty big. I’ve never read it. Any good?” She re-crossed her legs and this time a few inches of thigh were exposed.

“Um, yeah, actually it is. I don’t know just how accurate he is, I mean, the forward says that a lot of what he writes is disputed, but it’s just so well written. I mean it’s just beautiful prose.” I gave her a wry smile. I didn’t what to sound like some intellectual, but the writing is really just that, beautiful prose, not simply a history book. In some ways it reminds me of Shakespeare, which I had just been exposed to in English class. I glanced over and gave a shy smile.

What I saw made me put my bookmark back in and set the book aside. Mom had shifted her legs once again, and most of her great legs were exposed. In addition, the belt of her robe had loosened, and more than a bit of cleavage could be seen. Things looked like they might get interesting, and all apologies to the pursuit of history, man does not live by books alone. But I was surprised by Mom’s next comment.

She gave me a sad and distant look. “You’re so much like your father, and so different, too.”

Huh?! “My father! What’s he got to do with me?”

“Oh, just thinking. You look so much like him.” Mom gently touched my cheek, then lightly ran a finger across my mustache. “You are the spitting image of him, even to the mustache.”

I must have looked like I would staring at a cobra in the living room. “Christ on a crutch! I’m going to shave the damned thing off!", I told her.

“No, honey, leave it alone. It looks good.” Smiling, she said, “Besides, your daddy was a most attractive man. He was tall and strong and handsome, just like his son turned out. It’s not your fault you look like him. You’d have to change more than the way you shave to change that.” Then she grinned and patted my zipper briefly. “You’ve got something else in common with him too, honey.”

My eyes widened but I didn’t pursue the subject. “But I am different, right? I mean, I swear to God I don’t want to turn out like that bastard.”

She gently shook her head ‘No’. Pointing at my book on the end table, she said, “The only things I ever saw him read were ‘Guns and Ammo’ and ‘Car and Driver’. He liked stuff with large pictures and small words.”

“So how did you ever end up with a loser like him?", I asked. Mom got a pained look and I apologized.

“No, it’s all right, it was just a very painful time then. I guess I wanted somebody sort of dangerous, a bad boy. Your grandparents both warned me, but no, I knew I was smarter.” She went on for a few minutes more, describing him. Then she looked at me curiously. “Paul, you wouldn’t know your father from Adam. Why so vehemently angry about him?”

“That’s just it Mom, I don’t know my father from Adam. If I knew he was walking down the street, I’d cross over just to stay away. How could any man just walk away from his wife and kids? And how could any red-blooded man walk away from you?” I said the last after looking Mom up and down. Her robe had loosened enough so that by now I could see that she wore nothing underneath it, although her crotch and most of her breasts were still hidden.

Mom blushed. “Enough about him. You’re the man in my life tonight.”

Oh, ho! “Really? What about Sue?", I asked, putting my arm around her shoulders as she snuggled against me.

Mom responded by unzipping my pants and undoing my belt. Pushing them down, she exposed my hardening cock, and wrapped a hand around it. “I checked on her before I came in, and she’s asleep. If we’re quiet, she’ll never know.” So saying she began to slowly stroke me.

For my part, I reached over and undid her belt, then spread her robe apart. As she lounged back into me in glorious nudity, I reached out and with both hands, one around her shoulders and moving down, began to slowly rub her already stiff nipples. Mom murmured contentedly and closed her eyes blissfully, as we masturbated each other slowly.

After a few minutes like this, I tried moving Mom into a position where I could finger her clit, but we both ended up on the floor. I was about to make a comment, but she put a finger to my lips and whispered, “Ssshhh”. Standing, she spread a comforter out in front of the television, then reclined on it. I crawled down beside her and she slowly undressed me, slipping her robe off as she went. Then as she finished pulling my pants and shorts off, she licked my legs up to my thighs, then took me in her mouth.

“Oh, that’s it. Suck me, Mom. Do me, make me come.", I whispered. My mother began to go to town on my dick. Maybe she had thought of this as simply foreplay, but I wanted more and she wanted to take care of me. She shifted position slightly, swinging her body around so that her pussy gaped pinkly at me. Reaching over, I placed a hand on her cunt and began to rub her crotch. In response she spread her thighs, propping one upwards, and I began to vigorously finger her clit and probe her cunt. She really liked this, because in no time at all, I could here her start moaning around my cock as she deep-throated me.

Then she surprised me. Pulling her mouth away from my cock, to my immediate protest, she stuck her middle finger in her mouth. Pulling it wetly out, she promptly took me in deep again while sticking her now lubricated digit on my asshole. Then she slowly but firmly pressed it through my anal sphincter and began to massage my ass from the inside. Oh my God! Collapsing backwards, I gave up all thought of Mom’s cunt as my balls exploded. My hips went into overdrive, facefucking her upwards as I whimpered in orgasm.

Mom sucked down every iota of jism. Then, after wiping her finger on her robe, she crawled up next to me and lay down beside me. She hugged me as my breathing returned to normal, then whispered, “I never did that for your father.”

I snorted. “Yeah? Well, did he eat pussy?”

Grinning, Mom said, “No.”

Pushing Mom down on her back, I handed her my shirt. “Yeah, well, bite down on this, ‘cause otherwise you’ll wake the neighbors.” So saying, I lay down between her legs and put every lesson every woman had ever taught me about cuntsucking to use. Mom’s clit was promisingly inviting as he peeked from between her bare cunt lips. I licked, I nibbled, I kissed, I slurped, I probed into her with my tongue, but most importantly, I sucked that little ruby red gem. Mom was thrashing beneath me but I never let up. At one point I glanced up between her breasts to see her frenziedly screaming into the shirt sleeve tucked into her mouth. Mom was getting off almost nonstop by the time I delivered the coup de grace. Sticking the right middle finger into her cunt to wet it, I slowly inserted it full length into her asshole, then began high speed clit licking. She damn near took off like a rocket, thrashing her legs about madly, so much so that I thought she was having a seizure. Worried, I removed my finger and lifted my come soaked face and knelt. “Are you all right?”

Mom had a dazed look as she focused on me and spat out my ruined shirt. “Sweet Jesus, honey, where the hell did you learn that?!", she asked. “You are tremendous! I haven’t come like that in a long, long time.” I grinned but didn’t answer. Mom rolled over and knelt, presenting her rear to me. “Now, stick that thing in my pussy and fuck me.”

A good boy always obeys his mother. Kneeling, I took my cock in my left hand, and as my right steadied her, guided it between her thighs. As soon as the head had entered the slippery channel, Mom lunged back and buried me with a groan. Looking back over her shoulder, she whispered, “Fuck me hard and fuck me fast!", then grabbed my shirt and stuck it in her mouth again. I began to pump feverishly into her cunt as she moaned and squealed into the remains of my shirt. Jesus but did she have a hot and tight slit! And juicy! Long before my balls tightened and let loose a torrent, her juice was running down both our thighs. Finally I cut loose with a loud groan and collapsed on top of her back. Mom fell to the floor also, and I followed, to lay atop her, my hips pounding into her backside, my dick spasming out a major load.

Afterwards, we were both totally wiped out. I had to laugh when Mom told me it was past my bedtime.

* * *

By now I had a few bucks, and most importantly, a car. I didn’t have to rely on my dates driving me around. It seemed rather strange at first.

While I was still in the hospital, but before I had come around, the insurance companies started getting involved big time. There was health insurance (mine through the school and Mom’s from work), car insurance (Larry’s and the truck’s), and even some life insurance. I remember commenting on it to Mom once that everybody seemed to be suing everybody else. Fortunately, nobody had a clue how to sue me, since I just happened to be along for the ride, but I had no doubt this problem would soon be rectified. Certainly the lawyers involved seemed to find that my survival was a major inconvenience in the path to truly lucrative settlements. I simply wanted it to all go away.

So nobody was more surprised than I was to find a lawyer knocking on the door one night with a check in hand. He was in the seeming position of being selected by several of the insurers of negotiating an inclusive settlement by me and Mom. He had the most insulting manner of being both suppliant and condescending at the same time.

Finally I had to use The Power to get this ass out of the house. <Go to the bathroom.>, I thought to Mom. After she excused herself, I turned to the lawyer. <How much can we get? Bottom line.> The figure he was mentioning promptly went from $10,000 to $25,000. When Mom came downstairs, we signed the papers and sent this clown on his merry way.

Mom refused to take a penny, and I found myself with 25K in cash (no taxes, either!)

So I bought a car. I had been taking driver’s ed classes in school (a special dispensation for handicapped students put me to the head of the line) so I was ready. Mom drove me to three different car lots, where I used the same technique. Think Mom into the can, then use The Power on the salesman. <Best used car. Best price.> By the end of the day I followed Mom home in a cream puff three-year-old Taurus for less than ten grand, even after taxes, plates, and an unbelievably high insurance cost.

Later on, when talking to Mom about the rest of the money she suggested I put it in the stock market. She was hoping I would use it for college. Stocks, of course, would be much too risky, so she suggested mutual funds. That evening, her most recent boyfriend, a stockbroker, came by to try and sign me up.

He seemed nice enough, but I felt like locking my wallet up anyway. So I used The Power to get information out of him. He explained how the market worked, and how I would do better by mutual funds than by investing in blue chips, and even better yet, by investing in some growth stocks like high-tech companies. Then he mentioned, almost as an aside, that real money could be made with stock options.

“What are options?", I asked.

He answered and I was truly handed the keys to the candy store, or more literally, the bank vault. Here’s how it all works.

Suppose you invest $5,000 in Acme Widget Company’s stock, 100 shares at $50 apiece. Now say that the stock rises to $60. You’ve made $1,000, a nice piece of change. But stock options are like betting not on the stock itself, but on the change in the stock price; you don’t own Acme Widget stock at all. If those stock options cost $2, and you invest the full $5,000, and then the stock climbs to $60, you have hit the mother load. You don’t make $1,000, no, you have quintupled your money, to $25,000, because the options are now worth $10. Do this a few times in a row, and you are talking some truly impressive loot.

Mind you, this all has a high degree of risk. If you own the stock itself and Acme Widget drops to $40, you still have $4,000 worth of stock. The options, however, are now worth bupkus, and you are out the whole 5K. This is not for the faint of heart.

Things can get even more complicated. You can sell stock short, which gambles that the stock will decline. Put options will do the same thing by way of options. You can even borrow money from the brokerage to buy even more shares or options. This is called buying on margin, and if Acme Widget tanks you are really up shit creek then. The upside is great though. The trick is being able to read the future and know which way a stock is headed. Call it right and you retire to Easy Street.

But how do you call it right? Even with The Power I can’t see the future. I can’t really read minds. I certainly can’t make a stock move up or down. Yet there exists a class of people who can read the future of a stock, and their pronouncements have been known to move the market. This class of people, who are paid fantastic sums of money by their brokerage houses for their abilities, are known as stock analysts. They do nothing but live and breathe specific industries and even specific companies, often knowing more about what will happen than the people at the companies involved. All I had to do was have some of these people let me know which way the Acme Widgets of the world were going to move.

Mind you, this did not all come together in my mind at once. I parked the cash in a mutual fund for a couple of weeks while I read a few issues of Fortune and Business Week. Then I pounced.

One limit to The Power is that I have to be in normal communication with somebody to use it. I mean, if I’ve never met you, I can’t just think something and make you do it. However, if I can get you on the phone, it sort of creates a wavelength that I can transmit over. I had discovered this by accident when I dialed a wrong number once. After apologizing, I gave it a shot, and had a most bizarre conversation with the woman on the other end. I made her admit that she was home alone with her husband and had her put him on the phone as well. It turned out they had a speakerphone, so they were able to put the phone down to talk to me. This proved handy, since while I was talking to them, I had them undress and engage in anal sex with each other. I think they enjoyed it, but heaven knows I did! Anyway, once I get somebody on the line, I have a hook into them.

Mom’s broker led me to his boss, who led me to a regional manager, who led me to a New York VP. All I wanted to talk to was a few chosen high-tech stock analysts. The VP put me on the phone to several, and I was home free. I used The Power to have them call me with their best bets, and parlayed that leftover cash northwards.

Is this legal? Ethical? I’m still not sure. Certainly I hurt no one, and the overall stock market is too big for any shenanigans of mine to affect it. Is this insider trading? Maybe, but don’t be so sure, the legal precedents are not at all clear. I was never too worried, since I could always use The Power to send any inquisitive SEC types packing. I tried not to get crazy, and kept my “winnings” small and diverse.

It wasn’t risk free. I learned the benefits of diversification after losing almost everything when a corporate acquisition bombed at the last minute. But overall, you can’t argue with the results. By the end of the school year, I had well over $100,000 in the brokerage account, and that was after expenses. By Christmas of my senior year it was a half-million-plus, again after some hefty expenses, and I had split my funds into two piles, a “safe” pile that I let sit in blue chips, and a “risky” pile that I bought options with. The “safe” money I used as my bank account. The “risky” money made me a multimillionaire by the time I graduated from college.