The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I’d called ahead, of course, and asked her if she’d be willing to meet me for lunch. Since she had the afternoon off, she’d suggested that I come over to her house instead. That sounded like a good idea. I had no proof that she’d ever slept with Carl, after all—his nighttime ramblings could be nothing more than private fantasies. But if they were true, even somewhat, it was probably better that our little talk take place in private.

I arrived, as promised, promptly at three. Jolene met me at the door, wearing a simple lavender sundress and a touch of makeup. As she invited me inside, I was struck by her amazing natural beauty. Even though she was only a few years younger than I was, her skin was nearly perfect, with no blemishes or wrinkles. And I’d wager there was no bottle available, in any drugstore on the planet, that could have produced hair that vibrant, rich, and red. It was a wonder that she was still single; she’d had a steady boyfriend until a couple of months ago, and every eligible bachelor in town had asked her out since. Even my best friend Emmy Lou’s father; and he, at least, should’ve known better.

In fact, the only advantages I had over her at all were my own generous—some would say abundant—curves. I’d been blessed with some natural wonders, which had held up pretty well; especially when you consider it’d been nearly twenty-five years since they’d first begun to ripen, around about age eleven or so. My own hair was long and golden, streaked from the Smokey Mountain sun, and I was proud of the fact that I’d never needed to bleach it.

But, I thought as she led me to the sunny little kitchen at the back of the house, if she was tempting my Carl away from his wedding vows, there was precious little I could do to stop her. After fourteen years, our loving marriage was in something of a rut; and Miss Jolene was as beautiful and tempting as a fresh-cut rose.

We sat side by side in the cozy dining nook, making small talk to break the ice. Ever the charming hostess, Jolene had gone to the trouble of having fresh coffee ready, along with a spread of fresh cucumber sandwiches. We ate and drank and chatted as if nothing was wrong; and I began to wonder if my fears really were all in my head.

Eventually the conversation turned, of course, to the topic I’d been both expecting and dreading. “Mrs. Dean, I’ve been wondering. As much as I’m enjoying our chat, you’ve never offered to have lunch with me before. So I’m guessing that something else is on your mind.”

“Please, Jolene, call me Rebecca. And you’re right. I had a reason for coming over here today.” I paused. She was sweeter than I’d expected, and it wasn’t like she could help being pretty. Did I really want to go ahead with this?

Yes. For my own peace of mind, I had to know.

I let out a sigh. “It’s about Carl.”

To her credit, she didn’t flinch. Then again, she’d probably already guessed that much. “What about him?”

“Well, I know you’ve been the morning girl in his office for the last couple of years.” My husband’s law firm was one of the best known in the eastern half of Tennessee. They prided themselves on having a live person answering the phones from early to late, six days a week.

“Yep. Working six to two. It’s not quite the same as nine to five, but it’s a way to make a living.” She smiled softly, as if she’d just made a little joke.

“Well, last night, he was talking in his sleep, and ... and he kept saying your name....” I wasn’t sure how to continue. How was I supposed to tell this woman, this near-stranger, how my beloved husband had been thrashing about and calling for her so loudly, he’d woken me right up? With a passion that implied they’d been lovers; and an intense longing that had shaken me so badly, I’d finished the night on the sofa?

“...It wasn’t the first time, either.” I finished lamely, as I felt my eyes fill up with water.

Jolene nodded softly. “And you think that he and I are ... lovers.”

“I don’t know what to think!” I started sobbing, and then I started babbling.

“Y-you don’t know what he means to me, Jolene. Fourteen years; he was my first, my only.... Please, I’m begging you: d-don’t take my man!”

Compared to my incoherent shouting, her voice was gentle—like a soft summer rain. “And what makes you think I want to take him from you?”

“Be-because,” I blubbered, “just because you can. I know I can’t compete with you, Jolene. Y-you’re beautiful; you could have your choice of men. But Carl’s the only one for me; if I lost him, I don’t think I could love again.”

“Are you so sure about that?” she murmured.

“Huh?” I hiccupped.

“Carl and I are not lovers, Rebecca. Believe me, we’re not.” Her voice carried exactly the right tone to convince me: half steel conviction, half honest surprise. I stopped crying, though my eyes were still flooded.

Jolene leaned forward, her own eyes having opened wide. “Look at me, Rebecca. Really look at me.”

I did—and even through my tears, I could see just how intensely green her eyes were. Like two perfect emeralds, with sparkling flecks of gold. Flecks that seemed to shift, and spin ... and swirl....

I don’t remember blinking. I don’t remember her blinking. And I know she said far more to me that the few snippets I can remember:

“...You said you don’t know what to think. That’s all right, Rebecca, I’ll do the thinking for both of us ... Your happiness depends on me ... In private, you’ll want to refer to me as ... Whenever I say, ‘breath of spring,’ you’ll ... It’s so warm. Wouldn’t you feel more comfortable ... They’ve never been more sensitive ... One, two, three, awake.”

Something felt odd. It took me a moment to realize that instead of sitting at the table, I was lying down. On a bed. A very large and soft bed. Naked. And exposed.

And not alone. Miss Jolene was lying next to me. She was naked, as well. And with her ivory skin and slender build, even more beautiful than before.

I’d never cheated on my husband. Certainly not with someone younger. And especially not with a woman. I should have been furious. I should’ve located my clothes and run from the house. I should’ve called Carl, the police, and the National Guard. Not necessarily in that order.

Instead, I lay there, sighing. Until she kissed me. Then I moaned.

Her hand had cupped my heavy breast, at the same time her tongue had slipped into my unresisting mouth. It was the most incredible double sensation: my tongue was tingling, and my nipple felt like it was on fire. And the feelings didn’t go away; if anything, they got stronger.

Tentatively, my tongue wrapped itself around hers. They rolled together joyfully; I found myself panting with arousal, forcing my breath down her throat. She did the same with me.

I tried to moan again. This time it came out as a heavy buzzing that vibrated throughout my head. I could feel myself becoming soaking wet, down below. Miss Jolene’s exploring hand confirmed it.

If I weren’t—somehow—under her control, I probably would’ve jumped clear off the bed. Instead, I spread my legs wider, inviting more of that wonderful sensation. My hands gently explored her body, learning to enjoy the roundness of her buttocks, the smoothness of her back.

Nobody knows how to touch a woman, except for another woman. Only a woman really knows how softly to caress, how long to kiss....

. . . how hard to suck.

Her mouth released mine, and she swung herself over and around. In another moment, she was on top of me. Her head was at my juncture, and her nether region was pressed against my lower lip. For the first time, I could smell the delicate musk of her arousal.

This was something I’d never done, not even with my husband. And yet, somehow I instinctively knew exactly what to do next. And I did it happily, and with no inhibitions.

She tasted as wonderful as she’d smelled. Especially after the first time she came.

As she shifted her weight, her inner thighs rubbed up against my unbelievably sensitive nipples. Combined with her tender ministrations, it was enough to bring about my own first climax.

My second occurred minutes later, when she penetrated my channel with her longest finger, gently crooking it so that it rubbed against my g-spot.

It felt so wonderful, I returned the favor.

And so on.

By chance, I was closer to the phone; Miss Jolene had me hand her the receiver.

“Hello, Mindy? It’s Jo. I missed you at the office today.... Yeah, I left a little early. How are things with your fiancé? ... Oh, that’s too bad. I’m sorry.... Could you put me through to Carl? ... Thanks.

“Carl? Are you busy with a client? ... Great. ‘Islands in the stream.’ ... That’s right, my pet. Let yourself go.... How late are you working today? ... That’s perfect. Hurry home, get cleaned up, and then stop by my place.... No, you don’t have to worry about Rebecca. I’ll see you about six-thirty. One, two, three, awake.”

She handed the receiver back to me; I hung it up without a word, and turned to face her. She answered my unasked question. “I didn’t lie to you, Rebecca. Carl isn’t my lover. ‘Lover’ implies permission, which I never gave him. Instead, he’s my devoted follower.” She hefted one of my exposed F-cups, her thumb pleasantly rubbing the huge nipple; I shuddered. “As are you.” She gave it a lick and a quick suckle. I groaned. Looking in her emerald eyes, it was easy to understand how easily she’d taken my man. And me.

“Now, when we’re alone, I wonder what I should call you? Rebecca sounds so formal. Becky, maybe? No, that doesn’t quite suit you.” While she thought about it, her fingers and thumb were doing wonderful things to my tender clit. “I know! You’re my newest toy; why don’t I call you Dolly?”

I climaxed at the thought. Or maybe it was from her knowledgeable fingers. In the end, it didn’t matter. Carl would be here in a few hours. I needed to get cleaned up, and help prepare dinner for three.

There was no doubt in my mind that we were all going to need it.