The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

SPELLING ERROR

WARNING: This story features my usual recipe of explicit gay sex and mind control themes. Readers who are under the age of consent or offended by such material are warned to stay away!

Comments welcome at .

For a moment the blue toad was almost solid. Then it blurred around the edges and vanished with a soft rush of air.

“Shit!” I swore, glaring at the now-bare desktop. Not that I really wanted a toad for anything, let alone an electric blue one. They’re just handy for Spellers to practice with—small, quiet and low-maintenance. And easy, dammit! All the other kids I knew were making toads when they were six. My show-off brother Luke made toads that coughed up bigger toads. But not me. Junior year in college, and Mike Duquesne still can’t spell up a toad to save his life.

Of course, Chapel College isn’t like that Frogwarts place in the movies. It’s a norm school like any other, so I do pretty well here—star quarterback for the Chargers, popular with chicks, and an officer in the best frat on campus. And it’s not like I can’t spell at all. I can drive your car from twenty yards away, zap a rock band into singing along with me, and make it rain for days at a time (okay, that’s partly because I can’t make it stop). But the toads are still kind of a sore point, and, with Parents’ Day coming up, it would have been really cool to greet Mom and Dad with one.

(“Why don’t you ask Luke to help you practice?” Mom always says. She doesn’t understand why, as much as I get along with my bro, asking him for help is the last thing I want to do. I wind up doing that way too much already.)

“Knock knock!” boomed a deep voice from the hall. All my frat buddies know I don’t want them to just walk in; they assume that I might be whacking off with my Playboys, but of course the real reason (when I’m not whacking off) is to keep them from walking in on any Speller stuff. The last time I tried to block someone’s memory of seeing something magical, he couldn’t recall his own name for three days. It’s easier this way.

“ ‘sokay,” I called out, and Jack Hebel lumbered in, almost having to squeeze through the door. Jack is the only guy in Delta Mu bigger than me; he’s not only our best defensive lineman, but captain of the wrestling team as well. Being a handsome guy too, the chicks go crazy over him. Right now he’s dating Laurie, who was my girl for a while during soph year. Doesn’t bother me; he’s a great guy. Not the most open-minded, but if you’re his bud, he’d give you the shirt off his back—which would please the girls, too.

“All ready for the big planning session, dude?” he grinned. Coach had pulled some strings to get us on the planning committee for Parents’ Day; it was an extra-credit thing that would help us to stay on the team. We had a bunch of dull seating arrangements to go over, and were expecting to be bored as hell.

“I guess,” I said reluctantly, wishing it was over.

“Hey, at least it’s just the two of us. Harold couldn’t make it,” he said cheerfully. “Thank God. That little fag creeps me out.”

“Hey,” I said warningly. Harold Lassiter, our partner on the project, reminded me of the little geek in Grease. He was so obviously gay that he made my brother look like Clint Eastwood, and it had brought him a lot of crap from some people. Jack had never part of that—that kind of meanness was beyond him—but his thoughtless comment still bugged me.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, sorry,” he said. We spread the list of names and the seating chart out on my desk, and, sure enough, were ready to shoot ourselves from boredom before twenty minutes had passed. I was rescued—if that’s the right word—when a cheery voice suddenly spoke from behind us:

“What’s new, bro?”

Jack jumped. I didn’t; I was used to Luke dropping in without using the door. He was lounging in my easy chair, legs crossed nonchalantly, looking very preppy in his designer tee and tight jeans. He’d decided to have wavy black hair today, though he more often picks blond because it goes with his intense blue eyes. “Oh,” he said, looking Jack up and down with too-obvious appreciation. “Sorry, I didn’t know you had company. We met before, didn’t we? Laurie’s new guy?”

“Damn straight,” Jack said pointedly. “Um...Look, I’m sure you guys want to catch up. How ‘bout if I swing back later?” It was obvious Luke’s frankly admiring stare was pissing him off—my brother always had a thing for muscle, and a build like Jack’s affects him like a shot of pure pheromones. The last time they met, he’d barely restrained himself from full cruising mode.

“We’ve got a load of work to do,” I protested.

“Don’t go on my account,” Luke added, batting his lashes.

“Sorry, Mike.” I’d never seen Jack more tense, not even during a big game. “I can’t deal with this. I know he’s your brother, but he’s still—”

Luke gestured at him playfully.

“—the most awesome fuckin’ stud in the history of the planet!” Jack finished in a very different voice. He crashed to his knees before Luke, eyes fixated on his crotch. “May I please be your worthless cock-slave, Master?”

“Of course you may, scum,” Luke said kindly, gripping Jack’s head by the red hairs and guiding it to rub against his zipper. The wrestler’s huge shoulders trembled, and a sobbing moan of ecstasy burst from his lips.

“Cut it out!” I said with annoyance. “How would Laurie feel?”

“You tell me, you’ve felt her often enough.” Luke grinned at my expression. “C’mon, you didn’t like what he was about to say either. And you can’t tell me you never spelled a cheerleader into bed. I helped, remember?”

I reddened, for more than one reason. Like I said, I’ve turned to Luke for help way too often. “I don’t turn every norm babe I meet into an instant sex toy,” I said defensively.

“You never learned how. I was practicing every day at thirteen. Mmmmhhh.” The mindless, rhythmic motion of Jack’s face against his jeans was giving him a major hard-on, which in turn had Jack ready to pass out from excitement. “I think I’d better finish this at home,” my brother purred. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring him back. Probably.”

A second later, air rushed in to fill the void where they had been. And I was left alone with that damned seating chart.

I called Yvonne, of course. Besides being one hot little cheerleader (and no, I did not need to spell her into bed—give me some credit!), she’s really good at organizing stuff. If I could get her to help, I’d probably get the chore done twice as fast as with Jack anyway...and have the extra time to thank her properly (insert leer). She caught her phone on the third ring, and I quickly explained my predicament, making up an excuse that Jack was “under the weather”. Truth to tell, he had looked pretty zonked when he left.

“Oh, sure, Mikey, I’ll be glad to!” she said with reassuring eagerness. “Just let me finish what I’m doing and I’ll be right over.”

And then I heard a male voice in the background: “Must we cut this short, then?”

“Excuse me,” I said, alarms going off, “who was that?”

“Oh, it’s just Raman. I’m helping him rehearse his speech for Friday. But we’re almost done.”

The alarms got louder. Raman Raj had been chosen to deliver the welcoming speech on Parent’s Day because he was the only published poet in the undergrad class. He was also a track star, exotically handsome, and notorious for cutting a swath through the girls of Chapel with his upscale charm. Some jealous guys even rumored that he used his ruby pendant to hypnotize his dates. This was not a guy I wanted hanging out with my girl!

“See you soon,” Yvonne chirped, and hung up before I could say anything. I almost called back, but decided not to; after all, I had my manly image to think of. Never show fear, and all that. I’d find out more when I saw her.

When she arrived about fifteen minutes later, she was so obviously glad to see me that I almost forgot my worries. She sat right down with the plans that Jack and I had found so hard to focus on, and in an amazingly short time she had them actually starting to make sense. Maybe my brother had done me a favor after all.

But I still had to ask, as casually as I could, “So...you’ve been helping Raman Raj out, too?”

“Oh, yes,” she said cheerfully. “He’s written the most wonderful speech. I can’t believe he’s so nervous about speaking in public. With his looks, and that terrific voice, he’s going to be a sure hit!”

“Ah. Good.” That really was not what I wanted to hear. And, for what it’s worth, I didn’t believe he was nervous either.

But when the seating plans were done and we moved from the desk to the bed, I made sure that I still had Yvonne’s complete attention...

Next day it was great outside, and I headed out to meet Yvonne for lunch. I stopped short at what I saw coming toward me across the commons—Jack Hebel and Harold Lassiter, chatting excitedly and with every sign of friendliness. At least, Jack was chatting excitedly. Harold was giving him the kind of stupefied look that Elmer Fudd gives Bugs Bunny.

As they came closer, Jack saw me and grinned. “Hey man, did your brother bring a bottle with him yesterday? I remember him showing up, and then everything kinda blurs after that.” He shook his head, on which the hair still looked mussed. “You’re so lucky to have a cool bro like that! Gay dudes rock!”

They swept past me, Jack putting a massive arm around the stunned Harold’s shoulder. “So tell me more about these punks who’ve been messin’ with you, Harry,” he ordered. " ‘Cause nobody messes with my little bud!”

I could only shake my own head, glad that Luke had seen what a decent guy Jack was at heart. If he’d been a queer-basher, he’d probably have come back like Bobby Gertz did in high school—still straight down inside, but wearing a rainbow flag tee-shirt, nipple rings, and a helpless compulsion to offer his body to any man who wanted it. If Luke had been Matthew Shephard, those cowboys would be cattle today—or hamburger.

I reached the front of Yvonne’s dorm, but hesitated when I heard her voice from around the side: “But you know you have nothing to worry about!”

“I cannot help it,” came Raman’s cultured voice. “I am just so insecure about this. Please, let me speak the entire finished speech to you alone. I...I am too shy to do it before a crowd yet. Will you come to my house?”

What a sneaky, unscrupulous scheme to get a girl alone! Why hadn’t I ever thought of it?

“All right,” she agreed. “8:00, then. Oh, hi, Mikey!” she added, seeing me. “I’m ready to go.”

“Hello, Mikey,” grinned Raman. “Do not be concerned. We are just ‘study-buddies’.”

“Sure,” I smiled back. That did it! This bastard was going to get spelled!

That night at 8:00, I was waiting in the shadows outside the house Raman had rented just off-campus, hidden by a big oak tree. I heard the clap of Yvonne’s heels on the sidewalk, and knew the time had come.

Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Yvonne isn’t going to be the girl I stay with, I’m not kidding myself about that. She’s hot and fun, but she’s too flighty, and too easily distracted by other men. But I’d like it to end when I’m ready, okay? No self-respecting guy likes to be dumped. And I do kinda love her a little. Sort of. I think.

(I’d tried talking to Luke about it, but his advice was not helpful, and hopefully not serious: “If you love her, let her go. If she comes back, she’s yours. If she doesn’t, turn her into a homing pigeon.")

Yvonne rang the bell, and Raman promptly answered, dressed to the nines. Some casual study date! I focused my whole attention on him, following them with my eyes through the windows as he led her inside. I knew what I wanted to do. I’d sort of gotten the idea from Luke.

The man I see is gay, I thought, with all the concentration in my power. The man I see is gay, he is SO gay, he’s so gay you wouldn’t believe! Gay. Gay. GAY.

He was leading her out onto the back terrace, offering her a glass of wine. “You will find this an excellent vintage,” he was saying, “very...um...very...” He stumbled over the words, sounding confused.

GAY. GAY. GAY. The man I see is GAY.

“What is it?” Yvonne asked, puzzled.

From somewhere down the street, I heard a guy calling goodnight to someone, a deep, masculine voice. Raman heard it too, and his eyes seemed to light up.

“Would you excuse me a moment?” he said weakly. Without another word, he raced back through the house and out the front, looking up and down the block. I shrank back farther into the shadows.

A tall, burly man in a Chapel jacket was walking toward the corner. Raman’s face was a picture of confusion, but he was also practically drooling with excitement. “I say!” he called out. “Do I know you? It is Fred, yes?”

Fred turned around. “Uh, yeah. What?”

Raman’s doubts had melted away—he was on the prowl now! “I was wondering if you would join me in some wine,” he said smoothly. “I have another guest, but she must go soon. We should become better acquainted, neighbor.” He smiled dazzlingly.

“Um, that’s okay, guy. Some other time.” Fred was staring at him openly. “I’ll, uh, I’ll call you.”

He started to hurry away, and Raman scurried after him, helpless under my spell. “Wait! Have you ever seen my ruby? Look at it! Is it not remarkable? See how it glitters...shimmers...see how it reflects the lamplight...”

“Get away from me, you weirdo!”

I doubled over with silent laughter. I had to hurry away in the opposite direction before I couldn’t keep it in any more. Poor Raman! Oh, well—this guy might be a washout, but he’d do better next time. Once Chapel’s gay population got wind of the change, they’d be beating down the door to get to him. And he’d love it!

I decided to leave Yvonne to figure out for herself that she’d been ditched—I felt a little mean, but it would look too fishy if I turned up at Raman’s house. I headed home, whistling shamelessly, proud of a job well done.

On the corner of Pine and Westcott, I said “Hey” to Randy Hicks, who was waiting for a bus. “Hey yourself,” he replied, then added, “...handsome. What are you doing out all by yourself?”

I did a double-take. “What?”

His smile was predatory. “You look like you need some company. Wanna go back to my place and talk about it?”

I gaped. “Randy? When the hell did you come out?” And don’t you know any better pick-up lines than that? I added mentally.

He shrugged. “People change. People grow.”

“There’s your bus,” I said hastily, hurrying away. Behind me I heard him greeting the driver with a suggestive, “Hi there...”

Damn, I thought, that was weird. You think you know someone... I was so distracted by it that I almost bumped into a delivery guy who was carrying a stack of pizzas. “Ow! Sorry, mister, I wasn’t looking.”

“That’s okay,” he said gruffly. Then, as I looked at him, his expression changed completely. “In fact, you’re okay, too,” he smirked. “You can taste my pizza any time!”

“Hey! Jeez, man, I don’t even know you!” I’m open-minded, sure, but this was just rude! I stalked away, feeling pissed.

When I reached Delta Mu House, I could hear the sounds of TV football from the lounge. Dave Boley was on his way in there with a six-pack. “Hey, Mike! Game’s about to start! C’mon in!” Then his smile slowly became a leer. “Or better yet...why don’t we watch it up in my room? Plenty of room on the bed...”

“Jesus!” I cried. “What the hell is happening tonight? Every damn guy I see is gay!”

Oh. Fucking. No.

The man I see is gay...

“Oh. Fucking. No!” I breathed aloud.

“Oh, fucking—yes?” Dave smiled in reply.

“Nonononono!” I dashed away from him in a panic. This couldn’t be happening! I ducked into the first darkened room I saw.

Unfortunately, that was the lounge. Thirteen pairs of eyes turned to look at me. Almost the whole house was in there.

I jerked my eyes away from them frantically, looking at the TV instead. The commentators were in the middle of their pre-game analysis: “Well, John, I’d have to say that this is looking like a tough one for the Tigers. They’re up against a wall of opposition.”

“You can say that again, Tim... In fact, you can say anything you want, with a hot voice like that. It matches your hot bod.”

“Why, thank you, John. Is that a new aftershave you’re wearing. It’s sexy...”

“Why don’t you lean closer and take a sniff, Ted?”

“What the hell are they doing?” came a voice from offscreen.

I stared at the commentators as they moved together and locked lips. From behind me, there were fourteen moans of lustful satisfaction (Dave had entered the room now). I heard heavy breathing, and the rustle of heavy petting.

“What the hell are they doing?” the voice repeated, and then: “Um, we’re switching now to Jake, who’s with the Tigers in their locker room!”

“Aaack!” I lunged for the TV, one hand over my eyes, the other groping for the off button. I heard it click into silence with relief. Then I turned around and looked.

My fraternity brothers, every one, were getting a lot more than just brotherly. Stu and Pete had collapsed to the floor, groping passionately. Andy was crouching before Jose, licking his dick like a lollipop. Seth and Reuben had torn each other’s pants off, and were starting what looked to be a lengthy fuck-a-thon. And so on, times fourteen.

It was just like Coach keeps telling me: Too much power, not enough control...

I stood there gaping helplessly for a moment. Then I focused on the one thing I could think of.

Luke! Luke, I need you—really bad! Hear me and come to me, bro! Please!

A second later the air parted around him. “What’s the emergency?” he asked, concerned. Then he took in the action all around us. “Whoa! Your frat parties are improving!”

“It’s out of control!” I babbled. ‘It was only supposed to be one guy! One guy! Not the whole fucking campus!”

He glanced around with interest. “The whole campus isn’t fucking. Some of them are—okay, okay. Slow, deep breaths. Sit down and tell it from the beginning.” He grinned. “It doesn’t look like they’re in any hurry.”

So we sat on the beanbag chairs and I told him the whole story, while the orgy continued all around us and spread into the hall. By the time I was finished, he had to levitate to keep from falling on the floor.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, tears of laughter streaming down his cheeks. “I can’t help it. Bro, you are fuckin’ amazing! I couldn’t have done something like this if I tried!”

I figured he probably knew that from experience. “But can you undo it?” I pleaded. “I can’t do a damn thing! I can’t even leave the house without gayifying everyone I meet. And—Christ, tomorrow is Parents’ Day! All their moms and dads are coming!”

“Including ours,” he pointed out.

In all the chaos, I’d actually forgotten. “Shit! They’ll kill me!”

“And resurrect you, and kill you again,” he agreed. “So...you’re asking me for help, Mike?”

I shut my eyes tight, took a deep breath, then opened them again. “Yes. I have to.”

His eyes held an unholy gleam, but he played fair. “Are you really, absolutely sure?”

Like I said, I hate having to ask Luke for help. Not just because of pride, or ego, or petty stuff like that, but because of my big mouth. Because of a time years ago when, desperate to get out of yet another mess, I had spoken those fateful words:

“Just say you’ll help me, Luke, and I’ll do anything you want for a whole day, I swear. Speller’s sacred vow!”

I was a kid, okay? And I was all worked up at the time. I hadn’t really learned yet that a Speller’s sacred vow is a lot more than words. It taps into the source of our personal magic—and mine is both really strong and really whacked. That was the day when I found out how strong, how whacked...and how literal. Because the moment Luke did agree to help, I found that I really was compelled to obey his every wish. He didn’t even have to say what he wanted; I automatically just knew, and couldn’t even try to resist. I was his slave for twenty-four hours—and, as you may have noticed, that’s not a concept that exactly turns him off.

Of course, being me, it wasn’t all that long before I needed him to bail me out again. And that was when I realized that my thoughtless vow had said nothing about “just this once”...

I looked my brother in the expectantly gleeful eye and sighed. “You know there’s no one else I can ask. If word got out that I’d created a mess like this, I’d be in even deeper shit than I already am. You’re the only one I can trust.”

He nodded, trying hard to look solemn and failing completely. “Okay then. Since you asked...of course, bro, I’m here to help.”

I forgot everything else in the hot rush of passion that swept over me. Suddenly it wasn’t just Luke sitting across from me—it was Luke, LUKE in all caps, Master Luke! I launched myself into his beckoning arms and we tumbled to the floor, rolling so that he was on top where he belongs. His gorgeous blue eyes were locked with mine, wild with lust and excitement, as his tongue plunged into my mouth and reached for my tonsils. His hot, groping hands sent me further into heaven with every touch, and mine returned the favor frantically, treasuring the softness of his lightly-tanned skin and the hardness of the lean, ripped muscles beneath. How could I ever have forgotten, even for a moment, how irresistably hot this Adonis was?

You see, that was something Luke had never told me, or even I would have been more careful what I said. I had vowed to do anything he wanted...and it turned out that what he secretly wanted, more than anything, was for his hunky big bro to be in love with him.

Finally taking back his tongue, he rested his lips against mine, slowly, sensually rubbing our faces together. “Welcome back, stud,” he murmured, and the sound of his voice alone would have made me cream, if it were possible to cream without Master Luke’s command.

“I’ve missed you so much,” I moaned happily, basking in his closeness. I had, too, somewhere deep inside where it didn’t show. It had pleased him to program that into me for keeps. Under normal circumstances, it’s pretty hard to spell a Speller, but during my twenty-four, my mind is happy to be mush for him.

“Me too,” he whispered, then sat up with a reluctant sigh. “But first things first. We’ve got to straighten out your frat brothers—literally—before they’re the talk of the campus.” He let his eyes rove over the nude, writhing bodies. “Does seem a shame.”

“True that.” Now that I was gay-for-a-day, my handiwork seemed pretty damned hot. But the water it could get us all in would be even hotter. “So how can we stop it?” I asked regretfully.

“Oh, stopping it’s the easy part.” He carelessly waved a hand, and everyone froze solid in mid-fuck, mid-suck or grope. It was like sitting in the middle of a paused video frame—a triple-X-rated video. “The problem is, they’d just be back at it the moment I unfreeze them.”

“Can they hear us?” I asked. “Or are they completely out?” I knew Luke was equally capable of either—I’d been his sex doll in both modes more than once.

“They’re awake. I didn’t see the point in blanking them, after everything they’ve already seen and done. That’s part of our problem. We can’t let them remember; I can’t just block them all from talking about it, or it’ll drive them nuts; and if no one remembers anything that happened tonight, the administration will think Delta Mu broke every alcohol and drug rule in the book.” He put his chin in his hands, pondering.

“Damn,” I muttered. “If only we could go back to before I started this!”

“Spellers have tried to find the secret of time travel for millennia. Good luck figuring it out by morning.” He shook his head. “I really need to concentrate on this one. Go play with the statues in another room. I’ll call when I need you.”

“Yes, Master!” That was one order I’d be especially happy to obey!

I went out into the hall, stepping over the figures of Reuben and Seth where they lay in the doorway, frozen stiff in a 69. Sam and Rod were standing upright against the wall at the foot of the stairs. Rod, whose real name was Ian, had gotten that nickname his first week in the house, when word got around that his equipment was by far the largest in Delta Mu. Currently the famous piece had shiskebobbed Sam against the wall, and the grimace locked on Sam’s face showed that it was indeed a whopper. I’d never seen it myself—that not being one of Straight Mike’s priorities—but now I was dying to. Walking over to the pair, I placed a foot against Sam’s rigid legs and tugged on Rod’s shoulders. With a distinct ‘pop’, Rod came free, tilting back in my arms like an ironing board. His eyes stared immovably at the ceiling. Mine looked down and, hell yes, his cock was a monster! Stiff as a board, too. Holding his mannequinized body at an angle, I crouched and took it in my mouth, barely able to hold its thickness. I felt it throb between my lips as the petrified stud tried helplessly to cum.

Suddenly there was a new imperative in my mind. I had to go to Luke. I straightened up and pushed Rod back into his buddy, giving him a friendly slap on the ass. Then I hurried back to Master.

I found him beaming with delight. “I’ve got it!” he crowed. “It’s so obvious! But it’ll also take a lot of power. I’m gonna need you to join with me, bro.”

“What are we doing?” I asked.

“Just watch and see,” he winked. He took each of my hands in one of his, and I concentrated totally on joining my power to his, putting all the strength of my magic at his command. For minutes we just stood there, focused, hardly moving.

Then everyone around us began to move again—in reverse. Reuben and Seth unsucked each other. Frank and Tonio were busily unfucking, Tonio’s cock sliding out, in, out, in, as Frank groaned backwards with pleasure. It was the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen—everything looked familiar and yet bizarrely different, as fourteen hot men made out (made in?) like a tape in search-rewind mode. Luke looked as if he was really getting off on it, and actually it was pretty hot. We moved among them, stroking here, groping there, nibbling on their asses and pecs. It went on for what felt like quite a while—but not long enough—before they finally began slipping back into their clothes and back-stepping into the positions they’d been in when I first ran into the room.

They looked around for a moment, confused. Someone started to say, “Wha- ?” Then Luke waved his hand, and all their eyes glazed over. They stood or sat as they were, minds blank, waiting obediently for his commands.

“The football game was the dullest ever,” he said firmly. “It sucked so much that you all fell asleep watching it. Now you’ll go up to your rooms and lie down, and when you wake up, that is all you’ll remember.” He grinned. “Now kiss Uncle Luke goodnight and run along to bed.”

One by men, the men of Delta Mu walked to their temporary Master, a line of glassy-eyed, expressionless robots, and planted their tongues in his mouth while he squeezed their butts and fondled their crotches. Then they marched up the stairs, like good little toy soldiers, until at last the two of us were alone.

“Damn,” I said, impressed and a little jealous. “They’ll forget everything?”

Luke shrugged. “They’ll forget about the last few minutes. Everything else already disappeared, from end to beginning, when they were rewinding.” His eyes sparkled. “One of my quickest fixes ever! Almost twenty-three hours of slave time left!”

I moved close to rub his shoulders, getting off on pressing my bod against his. “It doesn’t have to end then,” I murmured slyly. “You could always just say the magic words again...and again...and again...”

“Stop that! At once!” he said fiercely, closing his eyes as if to block out my words. “I’ve told you about that before!”

I hung my head, ashamed. “I’m sorry, Master. It’s just that...part of you wants me to say it.”

He nodded. “More than anything,” he said softly. “But in twenty-three hours, you’ll have your own will and your own needs again. And...I love that brother, too.”

Turning to me, he opened his eyes, quickly brushed a hand across them, and touched a damp finger to my forehead. “Nothing but lust now, slave,” he commanded.

Instantly all other thoughts were washed from my mind. I was Master’s sex machine, and I loved it! I existed only to fulfil his needs, and I knew then without having to ask. I fondled and massaged every part of his incredible body; I howled in ecstasy as he reamed me raw, then switched around and did the same for him; I drank his glorious cum until I thought I would drown in it. (He’s gotta show me how he does that! I can’t keep it pumping for more than seven minutes!)

It was near dawn when he finally unclouded my mind and fell asleep in my bed with his head on my shoulder. I didn’t sleep; I didn’t want to lose one second of lying there with his beloved, beautiful face and bod pressed warmly against mine. It was so hard to believe that, at 8:47 tonight, I would suddenly be totally straight again, and actually prefer it. At least, until the next time I needed Luke to bail my ass out of trouble.

Which, like I said, tends to happen quite a lot.