The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“Hey, lover…” Julia’s tone was overtly suggestive as she settled next to me on the couch.

It was Saturday morning, and I had barely spoken last night after getting home from the Academy.

I wondered if Julia thought it was her fault, like I was mad at her for something, but I couldn’t even bring myself to reassure her. If I did, I would have to acknowledge the way I’d been acting.

She’d ask for an explanation. I couldn’t give her one.

I couldn’t even bring myself to be scared shitless, like I knew I probably should be.

“Hey, babe,” I murmured. I brought the mug of coffee up to my mouth and sipped.

Black. Bitter. Good. It fit my mood.

I leaned forward and set it with a soft click on the glass top of the coffee table.

My girlfriend nestled up against me, her own mug cupped in both hands. She kissed my shoulder and I glanced down into her face.

“So…” she murmured, her lips curling into a sly grin. “Any plans for the morning?” She took a sip, eyes far too wide and innocent.

“I’m actually just about to head out.” I stood, too abruptly. I bumped the coffee table. The dark liquid sloshed and spilled over onto the glass. “Shit…” I shook my head, swearing softly under my breath. “Just a sec.” I strode to the kitchen, grabbed a couple paper towels and returned. “I’m sorry,” I muttered, not looking at my girlfriend as I wiped at the spill.

Julia was watching me carefully, her brows furrowed and a look of hurt and confusion in her eyes.

I swallowed, glanced away. I sniffed. “Well…” I picked up my mug, still mostly full, and carried it into the kitchen. The bitter flavor was suddenly harsh on my tongue. It twisted in my empty stomach. I dumped the rest of the cup down the sink. I glanced back over at the couch.

My girlfriend was still watching.

“I’m going to head to the gym,” I said. With the new job and all, I hadn’t had time to reintegrate working out into my schedule.

Julia narrowed her eyes. “Is something wrong, Mitch?”

I knew her tone wasn’t suspicious, just concerned, but I had to control the urge to flinch and grimace. “Of course not, babe. Just antsy.” I gave her a smile that I hoped looked slightly normal. It felt like a sickly mask on my face. My stomach churned with burning guilt.

“Okay…” She blew out a sigh and glanced away, tugging her phone from the pocket of her lounge pants. She glanced at it, then back up at me. “It’s still pretty early. And I don’t have anything to do today. I’ll probably be here when you get back. If you want to do something…” But the teasing tone of invitation was gone from her voice.

I nodded, swallowed past the tightness in my throat. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

I escaped.

My feet pounded out a dull rhythm on the treadmill, slower than my usual pace. I wasn’t really here for a workout. I was here to think. To think and to get away. The pounding of my wordless EDM running music drowned out the rest of the world. I focused on my churning legs.

One, two, three, four. One, two, three four.

I counted it out. Mathematics. My safe place. Even just a small infusion of order in the chaos.

What the hell is wrong with you, Mitch? I demanded. One, two, three four. First, you cheat on your girlfriend with a student. Then you cheat on your girlfriend with a student again. … two, three, four. You’re teaching better than you ever have in your life and yet apparently using your brain less than ever.

I’d been mulling it over last night, lying awake next to a slumbering Julia, and I’d come to a conclusion. The sensation of focus and concentration that I had been feeling during my classes, the flow state that had excited me so much, wasn’t real. It was fake, an illusion, somehow… It was too good to be true.

And then, I continued. Then you’re physically unable to confess, unable to ask for her forgiveness or beg her for advice.

And that was what scared me. No matter what I tried — and I hadn’t given up easily last night — as soon as I started to talk about what had happened at the Academy it was like my vocal cords betrayed me. If I tried to write a note, my hands froze.

One, two, three, four.

Three miles. Four miles. Just for a few minutes, I let my thoughts slip away. The slow, steady addition of steps to my run made sense. Five miles, and I hit the Cool Down button.

The treadmill groaned, then began to slow. As I gently came to a stop, I shook my head and paused my music. I blew out a breath. My face was slick with sweat, my hair falling into my eyes. I pushed it back.

You need to figure this out, Mitch. If you thought Denton was bad, this is ten times worse. At least with that whole fiasco you had Jules to lean on. Now… My throat was dry when I swallowed. I tried to imagine losing Julia and I felt my stomach wrench.

No… I couldn’t let that happen. Then you know what to do. I nodded, filled my lungs, squared my shoulders. I had to figure out what was going on. And I had to put a stop to it.

Afterwards… I turned and eyed the weight room. Yes. That was a method of dealing with tension that I knew I could trust. Because I could trust myself. Couldn’t I?

At the end of the day, lifting weights is just about numbers. In a workout, I might lift thousands of pounds. But that weight was broken down into individual pieces, an accumulation of divisions so that my relatively weak human body can handle the overall load. Each rep just adds to my overall total. Each set is just another piece of arithmetic. And a sharp, strong physique is the output at the end of the function.

I slid the thick, metal plates onto the bar at the nearest bench press, wondering why I wasn’t freaking out. This isn’t normal, Mitch. You know it isn’t… My body was failing to obey my explicit orders, and instead of flipping out my response was to spill some coffee and head to the gym.

I shrugged. I slid under the weight and lifted it easily into the air. I pushed out some warmup reps, then lowered the bar back down into its rack. It settled in with a heavy, satisfying solidity. I pushed myself out from under and went to add more weight.

I turned the problem over and over in my mind. The problem is at the Academy, that much is obvious. I nodded to myself, hefted a 45-pound disk and added it to the bar. And… The realization struck me with the force of an obvious truth. There’s no way that it’s happening on accident.

I grimaced, added the second disk to balance the other side of the bar. And if it isn’t an accident, then Principal Clayton is the obvious source. After all, he’s the one who made me sign the NDA.

I double checked the weights, making sure they were even as I took a few slow breaths. So weird. What is it that he wouldn’t want me talking about? What would he possibly have to gain by keeping me extremely calm and mute? And how?! It’s not like he has some secret magical powers to just take away my normal emotional responses. And yet… I still couldn’t get riled up. Even though I had determined that my employer was fucking with me, my mind, and my relationship with Julia.

Instead, I eyed the weights. 225 pounds. A respectable number. 45 times 5.

It was like there was a disconnect between my brain and my body, preventing my heartrate from increasing, preventing my breaths from becoming shallow and panicked. My mind raced and my body maintained a semblance of calm. I laid back on the bench, lowered the bar down onto my chest, pushed it back up into the air.

But it doesn’t make any sense!

I scowled, lowered the bar, pressed it up. And again. And again. My arms began to burn. I was pushing myself, trying to find a limit. More mathematics. I needed to be logical about this. Everything manmade has a logic to it, in the end, I reminded myself. To someone… I just need to find the building blocks. I need to figure out what problem they’re trying to fix, what equation they’re trying to solve.

The bar came down to my chest and stayed there.

I grunted, felt the weight pressing down heavily on my sternum and remembered why you shouldn’t chase limits without a little bit of help. I strained, failed, then turned my head side to side. My view was partly obscured by my angle and the weights, but I hoped to catch the eye of a helpful stranger or gym employee.

“Need a spot?” The voice was feminine, smooth and a little amused. I couldn’t see very well upside down, just a pair of brightly-patterned leggings.

I nodded vigorous acknowledgement and a pair of slim hands entered my field of vision. “I can’t help much,” I wheezed. My arms felt like rubber. Was this random female passerby going to be able to help me lift this much weight?

There was the soft huff of a laugh. Then, a low grunt from behind me. I strained, doing my best to help, and then the weight was away and up with a soft clatter into its normal resting place.

I rolled up into a sitting position.

I took a few ragged breaths, felt my racing pulse. Even though you usually aren’t in any real danger, the feeling of being trapped beneath a heavy object is a primal one. It makes your heart pump faster, adrenaline floods your system, and all your muscles are primed to lift and push and move the thing away.

My mind took note, analyzed. So I guess I have a normal stress response, I mused. Just not when it comes to… Even just thinking of the Academy, I felt myself growing calmer, my thoughts smoothing out. I let air fill my lungs, sighed it all out in a low, smooth stream. Fucking odd.

I turned around to thank my anonymous helper.

“You good?” She was attractive, no doubt about it. Her slim physique was toned just the right amount, her body wrapped in those leggings and a matching sports bra. The bra was tight, restraining breasts that were obviously larger than average. Her long, dark hair was pulled back in a ponytail, which swung to one side as she cocked her head at me slightly and raised an eyebrow.

But I didn’t feel anything. My emotions were mellow. The usual ‘I have a girlfriend’ thought had flashed through my mind, and I didn’t feel any particular urge to check out this random stranger.

I nodded. “Thanks.”

“No problem.” The stranger gave me a nod in return, her pretty features neutral, and then walked away.

I did resist the urge to check out her ass as she left, then noticed myself resisting. I chewed thoughtfully at the inside of my cheek and thought about how unable I had been to resist my student. The angry demon of guilt, having been momentarily forgotten, clawed once again at my mind.

Is that the Academy as well? My inability to resist … I sighed. I hunched forward, elbows on my knees, and ground my palms into my face. Nothing was making sense. Even my own mind and emotions were turning against me, and I didn’t understand why.

I straightened. “Well…” I muttered quietly to myself. I rolled my shoulders. “Then you’re just going to have to solve it.”

It’s not drugs.

I was still musing when I got home, parking the car in the garage and taking the elevator up to our floor. I usually tried to take the stairs, but I was just too exhausted. Physically, mentally and emotionally exhausted.

I forced my mind to trawl back through all the memories I had of the Academy. When did things first start to go strange? And why didn’t I notice immediately?

Something interesting happens when you look closely at your recollections of the past. At first, like a frustrating equation, it seems like everything is vague and difficult to navigate. But then, as you stare at it, things start to come into focus. Things rearrange themselves into a recognizable form.

I remembered my initial talks with Principal Clayton.

Nothing strange there, as far as I could tell.

He knew things about you, I reminded myself. He made references to Denton like he knew about it. But no. I’d made no attempt to hide that particular incident on my resume. Besides, he would have found out everything he wanted to know when he called my previous employer.

I paused outside the front door to the apartment. Then, sighing, I fished for my key and went inside.

Julia wasn’t home.

I knew it as soon as I walked through the door. The apartment had an empty feeling to it, and I knew it was my fault. I was acting weird, and it had upset her. I shook my head.

You can’t worry about that, Mitch, I told myself. I ignored the rising guilt, shame and sadness that threatened to break through my focus. You can’t. I forced myself to walk into the bedroom and drop my gym bag on the bed.

I pulled my sweaty tee shirt over my head and slid open the sliding door to the closet so I could toss it into the hamper. I walked into the bathroom, stared at myself in the mirror. I looked into my eyes and I saw the raging chaos that threatened to overwhelm my composure if I slipped.

“You can’t worry about Julia, now,” I ordered myself. I stared into my face, willing myself to understand. “The only way out is through. You have to get through this… this… this fucking situation as quickly as possible. Then, maybe, you’ll be able to explain. It’s the only way, Mitch.”

My face was twisted into a frozen, stoic mask. My eyes were dark and dull. I felt dull. I shook my head. “No time to feel sorry for yourself, either,” I commanded. “You’re going to man up, solve this problem and then get things back in order.”

I swallowed, took a deep breath, and jerked my chin in a nod.

“Good man.”

I turned on the shower, stripped out of the rest of my workout gear, turned on my phone’s stopwatch and then tested the water. Perfect. This was going to be a long one.

In the course of my life, I’ve learned that some mathematics problems simply require me to sit by myself and think. Others, trickier ones, require a pencil and paper so I can write out ideas, follow trajectories of thought and then discard them if they prove useless. Finally, there are shower problems.

In grad school, which I entered to at the tender age of 19, I had once encountered an assignment that required an 87-minute shower marathon. I had come out with wrinkly skin and a wide grin.

The Academy problem was another lengthy journey.

When I finally emerged, I dried off and wrapped the towel around my waist. I crossed the tile and tapped my stopwatch to a halt.

36 minutes and change. Not as bad as I’d expected.

Barefoot, I crossed the bedroom and scooped up my satchel. I took it to the couch, propped my feet up on the coffee table, and then took out my laptop. I flipped it open and pursed my lips.

I had a couple ideas I needed to chase down.

Thank you for your interest in LucidSpecs. If you are a new customer, we must unfortunately inform you that our products are no longer available for public purchase. If you are a returning customer, please log in with your username, password and PIN.

I stared at the screen, then reached up and adjusted my glasses. LudicSpecs was the company that sold them. Now, apparently, they were catering to a different clientele.

It was the kind of coincidence that was too inconvenient to be a coincidence.

I frowned, took off the glasses, turned them this way and that in my fingers. I’d bought them two years ago, and they’d been the best pair of glasses I’d ever purchased. They took the strain off my eyes, looked stylish, and were so comfortable that I often forgot they were there.

I gently settled them back onto my nose.

“Alright,” I muttered, and tried to piece things together.

For some reason, my glasses were triggering Natalie. That was the only word I could think of that made any sort of sense.

99% of the time, Natalie was a normal, even an exceptional, student. She treated me with deference and respect, and engaged with the course and our material with enthusiasm. Then, the final 1% of the time…

She’s just as enthusiastic, but about something else entirely.

My mind started to wander and I clamped down. She acts different, I told myself, and tried to ignore the prickling sensation of heat in my chest. My face felt hot, and I wondered if I was blushing. “Get ahold of yourself,” I muttered, tightening my jaw. I pointed my mind back toward the problem, redirecting it from the lurid fantasy it was beginning to envision.

The difference was so big that it was like Natalie was two different people at once, the second hiding behind the first. Which brought us back to the glasses. I remembered something I’d read once, or heard, in one of my few university psychology classes. I had taken them for easy General Education requirements.

I opened up a new tab and ran a quick search. I scrolled, clicked a promising link and began to read. About a quarter of the way into the article, I paused. I blew out a long, slow sigh.

“Post-hypnotic triggers can be auditory, visual or even sensual cues. They could take the form of a spoken word or phrase, an image, a touch or even a particular place and time.”

The article continued, but I had taken off my glasses again and glanced away from the screen, tapping them against my lips thoughtfully. Post-hypnotic triggers…

I felt another sensation of excitement, but this one was one I embraced. It was a feeling I recognized, a gut instinct that told me I was onto something.

Post-hypnotic triggers… Hypnotic triggers… Hypnotism…

My mind twitched and an image flashed in my mind. Swirling stars and a man wearing my glasses. I shook my head. It seemed fantastical. Impossible.

Not impossible, the rational part of my mind corrected. Just highly improbable.

So… what? I retorted. One of Natalie’s professors is hypnotizing her? So that when she sees him and his glasses she turns into a nymphomaniac? I shook my head and ignored the small, lustful part of my mind that commented, Wouldn’t you do that to her, if you could?

I took a deep breath and forced myself back to the article. Then, I followed links to others. There was a lot I needed to learn before Monday.

Maybe it had happened to Natalie, I thought. But how had it happened to me?

The front door swung closed with a dull thud.

I jerked upright and swung my head around, then settled back down as I saw my girlfriend enter. She was wearing running clothes — a loose tank top, sports bra and clingy black yoga pants. Her peppy running shoes, pink and yellow and blue, padded quietly across the floor and into the kitchen. I heard the sink running, filling a glass of water.

If she noticed me or my reaction she didn’t acknowledge it, and when she turned her head I saw the wireless earbud in her ear.

I closed my laptop. “Hey, Jules.” I raised my voice a little, and Julia glanced my way.

She raised her eyebrows, held up a finger. “One sec,” she muttered. She tapped the earbuds, pausing her music, and then nodded at me. “Alright,” she said. “What’s up?” She sauntered halfway around the counter and then leaned over against it.

I tried to ignore the dull sensation of sadness in my chest at her tone. She sounded tired and unwilling to engage. I nodded at the couch next to me. “Sit with me?” I asked. “Only for a second.” I smiled hopefully but her expression stayed neutral.

She shrugged. “You want to talk now, or something?”

I glanced down at the floor. I realized that, as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t just keep putting Julia off. I might be in a crazy, insane, off-the-wall situation, but she had a stressful life, too. I needed to be better. She’s a freaking doctor, I told myself. And how often do you hear her complaining? Most of the time I didn’t even know how she managed it.

“Yes, please.”

She glanced down at herself. “I’m pretty gross right now. Can it wait until after I shower?” Her tone suggested that she was still upset with me, like she was trying to put off a confrontation.

A confrontation was the last thing I wanted. I swallowed. “I need your help.” I said it with a sigh and a slump of my shoulders, one hand coming up to rub helplessly across my mouth. I didn’t like to do it, but I knew that I had to.

Julia was a kind, caring person. It was one of the major reasons she was a doctor. Her lips pressed together in a line, and then she blew out a sigh. Her mouth turned down in a frown of concern and she walked toward me. She bent, placed the glass of water on the coffee table. She sat down with another sigh. She didn’t look at me, leaning forward with her face in her hands.

Her fingers massaged her forehead.

I waited.

There was a short pause. Then, I saw her shoulders rise with a breath and she lifted her head. “I’m sorry I’ve been this way all morning—” she started to say, but I was interrupting her before she could continue.

“No, Jules.” I shook my head. “I’m the sorry one. I’ve been letting my work stress get between me and you, and it was wrong. I apologize.” I stared into her eyes, trying to convey the things that I literally couldn’t say. “You’ve always been such an amazing partner. No matter how hard your work life has been, you’ve never allowed it into our home. It’s an amazing example, and I want to tell you that I’m going to try really hard to follow it in the future.”

She blinked at me in surprise.

“I love you.” It felt like ages since I’d said those words. Too long. I was glad, as I spoke, that they rang true. I suppose some tiny fraction of my mind had been worried that… I don’t know...

I waited.

Julia’s eyebrows came together. Her eyes met mine and searched them. I hoped they could see my sincerity. Then she was leaning forward and her arms were around me. Her nose and mouth were against my neck and I could feel her words as well as hear them.

“Thank you, love,” she murmured. “I love you, too. I’m sorry I was so pissy just now.”

I hugged her back. I kissed her hair, feeling the dampness of sweat from her run. I couldn’t care less. I just wanted to hold her close like this forever.

But I couldn’t think about that now. I had to follow the plan I’d crafted so carefully. It might be the only way to make sure that I could take care of my Brighton Barnsworth problem without further damaging my relationship.

I pulled back. I kissed her on the forehead, and then stared into her face. “I do need your help though,” I said with a little quirk of a smile. “I wasn’t just trying to make you feel bad for me.”

Julia gave a tiny chuckle but nodded. “Whatever you need, Mitch.”

While my girlfriend had been out, I’d been a thorough little researcher. I’d run several experiments, trying to figure out the extent of what I could communicate. As it turned out, I could share almost nothing specific about the university. There was a piece of paper in our trash can, now, lined with more than a dozen unfinished sentences; attempts at explaining the situation.

Writing them was the strangest sensation. It had felt like I was losing my train of thought over and over.

It was obvious to me, now. Somehow, at some point, someone had done the same thing to me as had been done to Natalie.

Well, except for the bimbo nymphomaniac part, I thought. I shoved away the image that tried to arise. It was an image of my student, her eyes wide and glazed and wanton while her lips parted in a gasp of desire.

“Thank you,” I said. I swallowed and then nodded back. “I can’t say everything,” I started, “because of the NDA…”

She gave me a brief bob of the head in silent acknowledgement.

Good. For a moment, I was grateful for the legal document. It gave me a fair reason not to talk about anything specific. In a brief flash, I wondered whether that was part of the point. Whether Joseph Clayton had engineered the whole thing just so. But I clamped down on that thought. I have no proof Principal Clayton is involved.

“But since I’ve been working there, I’ve begun to have the idea that something isn’t… right.” I struggled, trying to use language ambiguous enough to avoid triggering whatever mental roadblocks had been set up in my consciousness.

I had no idea how to deal with it, being unable to trust my own mind. My brain had always been my most powerful tool. Now, someone had subverted it to their own purposes. I’m going to find you, I thought. I wondered if it was that other professor, the one from the astronomy videos. But why? And how?! We’ve never even met!

Julia was watching me, her eyes concerned.

I spoke again, realizing that I had paused for a long time. “I think,” I began slowly. “That… maybe… someone in the school is doing something… not okay.”

I found that phrasing my ideas as conjectures made it possible to pursue certain line of logic without problems. I mentally noted that away for future reference. I needed to figure out exactly where the boundaries were — what I could say and what I couldn’t, what I could think and what ideas I needed to pursue indirectly. It was like the most confusing mathematics problem I’d ever tried to solve, because my mind was actively trying to trick me.

Julia’s face grew troubled. “Not okay?” she asked. “You mean, like, illegal? Or what?”

I nodded, not trusting myself to even think the words in my mind.

My girlfriend frowned. “Is it that principal you mentioned? Is it something you need to go to the authorities about? The police or… someone? Or is it something more personal?”

“Personal,” I said, and I hoped that by keeping my answers short I would avoid trapping myself and diverting my mind off the rails. That wouldn’t just be embarrassing, it would be disastrous. I knew I had to keep Julia as far away from this issue as I could.

My girlfriend was giving me a searching look. She could tell that something was up. Not for the first time, I was grateful that my girlfriend was a doctor. I knew I could rely on her to deduce more than I was able to disclose. “You’re not telling me something,” she said slowly.

I thought for a second, then nodded. Still safe.

“Because you can’t.”

I nodded again.

She chewed at her bottom lip. “And you won’t be able to as long as the NDA lasts.”

“Right.”

“Can you at least tell me if someone’s actively doing something to harm you? Or your students?” Julie looked serious. “As a doctor, it’s my duty to prevent harm.”

I hesitated. I needed Julia to not be involved. “No,” I said. It was a white lie, I suppose. Harm was open to interpretation, right? “No one’s doing anyone active harm. All of the students are safe, and I don’t think their safety has any bearing on the situation that’s bothering me.” Huh, I thought. It seemed I could say specific things about the Academy, so long as they were not bad.

“Mitch.” She gave me a look. “You know you can trust me, right? I mean… What you say here, in our home,” she gestured around at the apartment, “is between us entirely. If you need to break some weird NDA to tell me then I think you should do it.”

“I can’t.” I said it with finality, but with regret also. Julia needed to know that I trusted her, needed to think that I was being secretive because of the NDA. “I trust you, Julia. Please know that, for sure.” I reached out and took her hands, squeezing gently. I stared into her eyes. “Promise. But I just… can’t.”

My girlfriend nodded back. “Okay…” she said slowly. She interlaced her fingers with mine. “I trust you, too.”

She shouldn’t trust you, you know… It was the snide little voice again, and I tried to ignore the barb of pain and guilt that shot through my chest. Not after what you’ve done…

Julia’s shoulders slumped. “I get it,” she muttered. “But I don’t know how I’m supposed to help if I don’t even know what’s wrong. And now I’ll just worry about you…”

I nodded. “I just…” I sighed. I could guess how she was feeling, and I didn’t know what to do about it. It felt like there was a wall between us, a wall built by the unknown professor who had somehow implanted post-hypnotic suggestions in my brain. A wall built by myself, and my own inability to resist temptation. “I just want you to know that if I’m acting strange, it’s not you. It’s not us. It’s me. Me and this school and my job.”

Julia leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. Some of her hair had fallen out of her ponytail and I felt it brush over my skin. “I’ll be here for you,” she murmured softly. “There’s my promise.”

I could smell my girlfriend’s perfume. I could smell her, too, her natural scent, and I felt myself relax. Things were going to be alright. They would. It was going to be okay. I turned and kissed her back, just a soft little touch of my lips to the corner of her mouth. “Thank you, lover,” I said gently.

She hadn’t leaned away, and I felt the warmth of her hand as she lowered it to my thigh. She leaned in and kissed me, this time on the mouth. When she pulled back, she was smiling, and she glanced down at my body.

I realized, looking down, that I had been dressed in a towel for our entire deep, intense, personal conversation. I’d been so wrapped up in my research that I hadn’t gotten around to getting dressed.

“So was this outfit just meant to tease me?” Julia murmured, and when I looked back up into her face she had a twinkle in her eye. I could see from the gleam that she was in a mood, and I didn’t question it.

Instead, I played along. With an exaggerated shrug, I leaned back, spreading out my arms across the back of the couch. My sharply defined chest and abs were on full display now, and I grinned. “You know…” I answered. “Just in case you felt any kind of way after your run. In case you built up an… appetite.”

“Mmm…” The gorgeous brunette bit her lower lip and let her gaze trace over my skin. Her hand on my leg shifted, slipped under the towel, brushed across my skin.

I could feel the tingling heat of arousal beginning to rise in my body. I could sense the line that was pulling tight between us as the moment of worry passed and the anxious tension transformed into something else. Another type of tension. My cock stirred awake.

Julia’s fingers were gently slipping closer, across my leg, and now her eyes had risen to meet mine.

I didn’t want to breathe, felt the tight grip of the moment around my chest and didn’t want to break it. I felt a pulse of lust shoot through me and my manhood hardened further.

My girlfriend leaned in and softly touched her lips to my mouth as her fingertips finally reached my shaft. I could hear her breath coming shorter and faster. She slowly brushed along my pole, which by now was tenting the towel that lay like a blanket across my lap.

I shivered, eyelids dropping half closed. I felt my pulse increase, sensed the temperature rising. “Is this make up sex?” I asked, grunting softly as her fingers began to stroke gently up and down. I felt foolish for asking immediately afterwards, but my girlfriend just grinned.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, darling…”

I let out a soft gasp of disappointment as her touch disappeared and her fingers slipped free of the towel. The cloth fell back across my lap, the obvious bulge of my now-throbbing erection clearly evident.

Julia rose.

I watched her.

She held out her hand. “I’m just going for a quick shower, though, if you want to join.” Her lips were turned up in a teasing smirk but her eyes were smoky with desire.

I took it.

The towel slipped from my hips and fell to the floor in a crumpled pile, forgotten as Julia led me through the bedroom.

The shower had a long, rectangular footprint, covered entirely in small squares of turquoise tile with a wall of glass. At one end it had a glass door with a vertical, chrome-colored bar for a handle. At the other end, it had two drenched occupants.

Steam billowed, filling the remainder of the space.

The water was almost too hot, hitting my shoulders and streaming down my back. I couldn’t have cared less. “Uhhh…” I let out a long, clenched sigh. My fingers flexed, one hand pressed flat against the glass and the other against the tile on the opposite wall.

Julia knelt at my feet, her lips wrapped around the head of my cock while her tongue lavished the head with attention. She looked gorgeous, her dark hair falling down her back, droplets of water beading on her tan skin. Her full, luscious tits were covered in running streams of water and I could just imagine cupping them in my hands, flicking my tongue across her nipples and suckling, making her gasp.

My head dropped back and I felt the water hit my face. I groaned again. “Ohmygod…” I felt one of my girlfriend’s hands begin to stroke my shaft. My balls felt heavy and full and my entire body felt like it had been waiting years for release.

Then, with a soft pop, her lips slid off and away and the heat and wetness of her mouth disappeared.

I let out a soft, regretful groan. “Julesss…” I moaned softly, my cock throbbing with need and the coiled spring in the pit of my stomach begging to release.

My girlfriend rose slowly, kissing her way up my abs. Her lips were wet on my neck and I felt her hands on my hips. I felt the soft pressure of her fingers and we turned in a semicircle so that she was under the water. I felt the spray explode off her skin, scattering across my chest and face in a gentle rain.

One of her hands continued to stroke gently, keeping my pulsing manhood rock hard. I resisted the urge to grab my girlfriend by the shoulders and push her up against the wall, spreading her legs and fucking her into oblivion. That wasn’t what she wanted… I reminded myself. I had to let Julia take lead when it came to sex.

A sudden vision flashed across my mind.

Natalie, her blonde hair dark with moisture, the brunette highlights less obvious as her head fell back. Her lips were parted in a low moan as I slid inside of her, my cock spreading apart her pussy and fitting perfectly into her tight, teenage tunnel. Water streamed down over her shoulders, into the valley between her big, bouncy tits.

I tightened my jaw and shoved the thought away. No. No more. Never again.

I ignored the sliver of doubt and the snide voice that muttered. We’ll see…

Not for the first time, I cursed Derick. That man had single-handedly screwed over my sex life. I was immediately ashamed for having the thought.

Then, I realized that my girlfriend was standing up on her toes, her lips fluttering kisses along my tight jaw. “This…” Julia’s voice was a gentle murmur as her hand stroked up and down my length. Her lips brushed across the edge of my ear and I couldn’t help but let out a soft gasp. “Is makeup sex…”

Her fingertips were on my throat and then spread out across my shoulders. I felt her weight as she leaned up onto me and my hands naturally fell onto her hips.

She wiggled her body, coming closer, and I got her unspoken message.

My hands slid over and around, cupping her tight ass. With a grunt, I lifted her into the air and her long legs wrapped around my waist. I half-turned, spinning her and pinning her against the wall.

The shower pounded down on both of us now, hot and hard and wet. I shook water from my eyes. “You sure you want this?” My voice was low and hard, the tension obvious. I was holding myself in check, but barely. My body strained, begging me to let go. I didn’t want to hold back anymore.

I felt my cock straining, just inches from sliding up and into her body. I wanted her. I wanted her so badly I could almost taste it.

Julia’s eyes were wide and hot on mine. “Yesss… Ohhh…” The word turned into a sigh of pleasure as I pressed her back against the tiled wall and thrust, sliding inside of her.

Her entrance was slippery with water and the heat of her arousal, so there was almost no resistance as I pulled back and thrust again, grunting. I lowered my mouth to her neck, kissing her hard. She groaned, her body trembling. Her pussy was hot and welcoming, squeezing tight around me like a glove.

I’d forgotten how good it felt to be inside her, our bodies moving in unison as I fucked my gorgeous girlfriend like my life depended on it. My muscles were tight and I could feel her clenched muscles as well beneath the smooth, supple skin.

“That’s right, Mitch…” she murmured. Her breaths were coming faster, her breasts rising and falling

I lifted my head. “You like that, lover?” My own words were husky and deep, barely above a whisper.

“So good… Just like that… All better now…” Her head fell back against the wall and she arched her spine, offering her tits up to me.

I kissed across her collarbone and then my tongue was lapping at a nipple, my lips circling around and sucking gently. I let my teeth gently brush across the small, tight pleasure bud and Julia gasped.

“Ohyesbabyyy…”

My tongue lashed at her breasts and I continued to thrust, my arms burning as they began to register her weight. I didn’t care. My core was tightening, my thick pole splitting my girlfriend’s willing body in half as the steam and hissing water filled the air around us.

I could barely think, only the bright flashing pleasure filling my mind and the release of finally being able to—

Julia came, suddenly, her head falling forward like her body was curling in on itself. Her mouth latched onto my neck with one long, hard kiss, and I sucked in a quick breath through my teeth at the brief jolt of pain.

That’s gonna leave a mark. And I felt a flash of satisfaction before it was whipped away by my own surging pleasure. My body was building, the tidal wave barely held back. My fingers were massaging her tight, round ass, my cock pistoning in and out of her core like a jackhammer.

I was moving faster and faster now, not even giving her a second to recover as I sped toward my own climax.

Her breath was quick on my skin and I imagined I could feel her beating heart as I held her to my chest.

I grunted, emptying myself into my girlfriend’s desperate, waiting body. My cock spasmed, unleashing my load. I painted her core with my seed, letting out a soft moan as my body arced and pressed Julia’s back into the wall one more time.

Her legs tightened around my hips, her body shuddering with the aftershocks. “Yes… yes… yes… Just like that, lover…” The sound of her murmuring voice brought me back to reality.

I didn’t want to come back.

I closed my eyes and fell back into the pleasure, the darkness shattered by flashes of ecstasy as I leaned against the wall. I slowly pulled back, my hard pole drooping as I slowly

I felt her slim body brush against mine, her own panting breath barely audible under the sound of the pounding water.

I wondered how long we’d been in here.

“God…”

I sagged sideways, leaning with one shoulder against the wall and feeling Julia’s body pressed to mine as she stepped closer and wrapped me in a hug. “Good…?” she murmured.

Her skin was bare and smooth and slick with moisture. I felt her hard nipples pressed to my body. Her round, full breasts flattened against my muscular torso.

“Good…” I murmured back.

This is how things should be, I thought. This is how things will be… But even as I made the resolution, I felt a thick sensation of tarry regret rise to try and choke my throat. I swallowed around it, not wanting to acknowledge what I already knew.

It wouldn’t last.