The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The Twisted Love Potion

by Pan

Chapter 7 — Christmas Eve

“Mickey!” the woman hissed. “Albert is asleep. Everyone is asleep! Go to bed.”

“I can’t,” the teenager replied. He was eighteen, and had a far deeper voice than one would guess from seeing his skinny black body.

Amanda rolled her eyes. Mickey was three years older than her son, but despite the age gap, the two had been best friends for over a decade now. If she was being honest, though…she’d never really liked him.

It wasn’t a race thing. She told herself that often—it wasn’t a race thing.

She just…didn’t like him.

“Why can’t you go to sleep?”

“I’m excited for Santa,” Mickey said with a grin, showing off his bright white teeth.

Amanda sighed. She may not have liked the kid, but she did feel sorry for him. Both of his parents were surgeons, and when she’d learned that they were both working overnight—on Christmas Eve—she’d felt compelled to offer him an alternative.

It was hard to be too mad at the Wiedermanns for both choosing to work the emergency shift, for saving lives on Christmas morning, but…well, something about it just felt wrong.

And so Mickey was having Christmas morning with their family, instead. Albert had been delighted—as far as he was concerned, the sun shone out of Mickey’s black ass.

But Amanda didn’t like him.

It was a bunch of small things—the way he’d sometimes check her out, when he thought she wasn’t looking. The way Albert all but fawned over him. The fact that his best friend was several years younger than him. What was that all about?

His cockiness, his…confidence. He was, what was the word? Uppity.

But it definitely wasn’t a race thing.

“Well, you know how it works. Santa won’t come if you’re awake waiting for him.”

Albert had a younger sister, Ava, and she was still within the ‘believing in Santa’ range, so despite Albert (and obviously Mickey) being far too old, the family still continued the myth.

“I heard you moving about, so I knew Santa wasn’t coming yet anyway.”

“Go to bed, Mickey.”

“Sure thing, Mandy. Right after you do.”

Amanda sighed again. He’d been calling her that for years, and nothing she could do would deter him, so she’d just accepted it. To her brat of a neighbor, she was Mandy.

She opened her mouth to tell him to go to bed again, but…what was the point? He was eighteen—why the hell did she care if he stayed up late? Not her circus, not her monkey.

“Well, if you’re not going to sleep, you might as well help out. Take a bite out of these cookies Ava left out.”

“You want me to eat the cookies?”

“Just take a bite out of each one.”

“Why?”

“So that she thinks Santa was here.”

“Why the hell would Santa take a single bite out of each cookie? Wouldn’t he eat them all, and leave crumbs?”

“Jesus, fine. Eat the damn cookies, and leave a crumb.”

Mickey eyed the can of Fizz Twist sitting next to them.

“What about this?”

“Don’t worry about that.”

He picked it up.

“It’s full.”

“No, it’s half-empty.”

“That’s what I meant. Half-full.”

“Mickey, this isn’t the time to get into a philosophical debate. I drank half of it to show that Santa was here.”

“Santa isn’t going to fill up on half a cola. Have you seen the gut on that guy?”

“He visits six billion houses,” Amanda retorted. “He can’t finish everything off at every…”

She trailed off, realizing what she was saying. If she’d made a list of her ideal way to spend her Christmas Eve, ‘debating a realistic Santa appetite with her teenaged neighbor’ would have been way, way down the bottom.

Not that it mattered. Before even listening to her defense of the half-empty can, Mickey had brought it to his lips and gulped down the remainder of the can.

It was like fireworks exploded in Amanda’s head. All of a sudden, she realized something about Mickey, something she’d never noticed before.

Her neighbor, her son’s best friend…he was…he was hot.

He was muscular. Not ripped, just…skinny-muscular. He was wearing a pair of pajama pants and a wife-beater; it showed off his arms and hinted at his chest-muscles. His neck was long, and Amanda was suddenly overcome with an urge to bite it, to lick it and suck it.

Her eyes dropped to his groin.

He was hard.

Mickey, her eighteen-year old neighbor, was hard as a rock.

What’s more, he was doing absolutely nothing to hide it. His pajama pants were barely managing to contain his erection, and it was pointing straight at her.

It was pointed straight at her.

“M-Mickey,” she stammered, unable to tear her eyes away from the outline of his cock. She wanted it. She wanted it more than she could remember ever wanting anything. She wanted to see it, to touch it, to suck it.

She wanted to fuck it. She wanted to spread her legs, and let her layabout teenage neighbor fuck her until she came around his cock, again and again.

“M-Mandy?” he said mockingly, his hands on his hips. He seemed to be quite proud of the reaction his hard-on had evoked; he certainly wasn’t making any moves to cover himself.

“You…you shouldn’t…”

“I shouldn’t what?” he asked with a smirk.

“Your cock…”

He glanced down, as if he had only noticed it for the first time because of her words.

“Oh, this?”

Amanda’s mouth dropped open as he casually wrapped one hand around his erection, pulling the fabric of his pajamas tighter against his erection. The outline was so much more clear. She could…she could almost see it.

God she wanted to see it.

“Yeah, it gets hard like this sometimes. Nothing I can do about it, sorry. It’s gonna be this hard until I get off…and of course, I’m sleeping in Albert’s room. Can’t get off in there.”

“Can’t…get off…”

What the hell was wrong with her? She was practically drooling at the sight of a teenage boy’s erect penis. Not even the sight of it! The sight of it through pajamas.

And the mental image of him getting off, getting himself off. Wrapping his hand around his erection, and pumping until he came, until he shot white spunk of out his black cock…

“So until I get back home tomorrow, I guess it’s just going to be this hard. All day tomorrow, during breakfast…while opening presents…I might even stay for lunch.”

Amanda shook her head. For some reason, she was struggling to think. Struggling to pay attention to anything that wasn’t Mickey’s enormous black penis.

She wanted it in her mouth.

No! She was a happily married woman. It was Anthony’s penis that she wanted in her mouth. The only cock she’d ever before tasted. The cock she’d fallen in love with and married.

Not Mickey’s. Not Mickey’s throbbing rod.

Mickey’s throbbing rod, inside her…

She groaned at the idea.

“Mandy?”

Focus! She had to focus.

Mickey was going to be hard until he got off. Hard. So hard. So distracting.

She couldn’t be distracted tomorrow; that was Christmas Day. She had to have her attention on the family, on her husband and children. She couldn’t spend the whole day fixated on Mickey’s erection.

That meant he had to get off.

“Get off,” she ordered, almost losing her breath at the idea.

“What?”

“Get off now,” Amanda said emphatically. “Can’t have you…you can’t be hard all day tomorrow. It wouldn’t be appropriate.”

“You want me to get off now, in front of you?”

It took Amanda a second to answer that one. She had a very visual imagination.

“Uh huh.”

“Mandy, I think that would be inappropriate, don’t you?”

Amanda narrowed her eyes. She knew he wanted this. If she’d ever told him to jerk off in front of him, he would have leapt at the opportunity.

What was he playing at?

“Being hard in front of my children would be even more inappropriate,” Amanda replied. She’d intended for her tone to be cold, uncompromising, but at the word ‘hard’, she’d lost focus, and the rest of the words had come out in a breathy rush.

She sounded almost as horny as she felt.

“Okay,” Mickey said with a shrug. “If you absolutely insist, I’ll get off in front of you.”

“I do,” Amanda said, again aiming for icy. Again, she missed, and it came out as desperate. Begging.

Wanton.

Mickey unceremoniously grabbed the waistband of his pajama pants, and moved them down, revealing the snake between his legs. At the sight of it, Amanda went from practically drooling to literally drooling—her mouth fell open at the sight of Mickey’s hard member.

“God…” she sighed, her hand uncontrollably reaching out. “Mickey, it’s…it’s beautiful.”

The smug teenager didn’t say a word as she fell to her knees in front of him and wrapped a hand around the python he’d been keeping between his legs.

“Mandy,” he said, tutting his tongue in mock-disapproval. “I thought you wanted me to get off.”

“Of course,” she panted, her eyes fixated on the hardness in front of her, in her hand.

The hardness she wanted to feel inside of her.

“Just…helping.”

Amanda didn’t even believe herself as she began to slowly run her hand up and down Mickey’s cock. It was so beautiful—it was like the Platonic ideal of a cock, like the cock that every porn film was striving to exhibit. It so hard. So big.

So nice to touch.

“Uh huh,” Mickey replied, sounding as smug as she’d ever heard him sound. She glanced up at him. He was staring down at her, a glazed look in his eyes. If the feeling of his throbbing erection in her hand hadn’t been enough, his face would have told her that he was as turned on as he’d ever been in his life.

Her second hand joined the first, and she began jerking him off in earnest. It felt right. Natural. Like this was what she had been born to do—like she had been created by God for one simple purpose; to kneel in front of Mickey and get him off.

Amanda tore her eyes away from Mickey’s eyes, and glanced at the door to the living-room. It was ajar; anyone in her family could walk in at any moment. Her son, her daughter…her husband.

Any of them could find her—a proud mother of two—on her knees, jerking off the neighbor.

Jerking off her son’s best friend.

What would they think of her? They’d be horrified, of course. They’d think she was a slut. They wouldn’t know that she was doing it for the best of reasons; to help Mickey get off, so he wouldn’t be hard all of Christmas Day. They wouldn’t know that she was doing it for them, to protect them.

To their eyes, she’d just be a cheating harlot, engaged in an interracial affair. Demeaning herself in front of the black kid next door, using her body to get him off.

To get him off…

It would ruin her life, if she was caught.

In that case, Amanda thought to herself. I’d better be quick.

“Are you close?” she asked, looking up at the dark-skinned teenager. “Are you close to cumming?”

“Uh huh,” Mickey moaned. His breathing was heavy, and a sweat had formed on his brow. “So close…”

“Cum for me,” Amanda urged. “Cum for Mandy.”

Pushing her arms together, Amanda showed off as much cleavage as her pajama top would allow. She opened her mouth invitingly, providing a target for the teen boy to aim for. Her eyes widened, looking up at him, broadcasting her want, her need…

To the middle-aged woman’s great delight, her pose had the desired effect, and the big black cock in her hands began to pulse. She watched with delight as Mickey came, string after string of his white cum landing on her face, in her mouth, coating her pajama top.

“Dayum,” Mickey sighed, as Amanda’s eyelids twitched with pleasure. Her right eye was closed, matted shut with the teen boy’s semen. Her lips smacked as she swallowed down his cum, enjoying the taste more than she’d ever enjoyed a man’s seed before. “You doing okay, M-M-Mandy?”

“Uh huh,” the woman said dreamily, using her hands to scoop up Mickey’s cum from the rest of her face and move it to her mouth. “Just, uh…hiding the evidence. How about you?”

Swallowing the cum that had been keeping her eye closed, Amanda’s attentions focused on Mickey’s cock. To her great disappointment, it was starting to soften.

“I’m good,” he said with a grin, before gesturing to her cum-splattered top. “But you should take that off.”

“Why?”

“You go to bed with that, Albert’s Dad is going to think something’s up.”

Amanda looked at her top. Before she could stop herself, she lifted the stained areas to her mouth, hungrily sucking them clean.

“Dayum,” Mickey said again. He paused, impressed. “…still, though.”

He was right. Amanda knew he was right. She may have cleaned off the cum, but it there were still obvious signs that something had happened.

“Take it off,” Mickey repeated, his voice a low growl.

There was something wrong with this plan, but Amanda’s brain was foggy. Her pussy was throbbing—she didn’t think she’d ever been so turned on in her life, and that was just from jerking the teen boy off.

She couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like if he were to fuck her, if she were to feel his black member slipping between her legs, splitting her open, getting her off…

“Okay,” she said hazily. Amanda’s fingers deftly unbuttoned her pajama shirt, and soon she was topless, still kneeling before her son’s best friend.

“Oh, fuck…” he moaned, as her tits came into view. “I knew you were stacked, but…fuck, Mandy.”

To Amanda’s great excitement, Mickey’s cock began to thicken again. Soon, it was standing at full attention once more.

“Uh…”

“What?” the black teen asked, mesmerised by the set of tits in front of him.

“Your dick,” Amanda said breathily. “You’re hard again. And you said…”

“Right,” he said with a grin, wrapping one hand around his cock and starting to stroke. “If I don’t get off now, I’ll be hard all night. We wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Wouldn’t…want…that…”

As if she had completely lost control of her hands, Amanda reached out and once more began to run them up and down the black rod in front of her. As she did, she rubbed her thighs together; it wasn’t exactly the kind of attention her soaking wet cunt was screaming out for, but it was better than nothing.

The two of them stood there in silence for several minutes, Amanda stroking him, Mickey watching her with a smug look on his face.

“Better hurry,” he moaned. “I think I heard Albert’s Dad coming in…”

“What do you want me to do?” Amanda replied. In her mind, it had been a sassy, sarcastic question, to demonstrate that even on her knees in front of him, stroking his cock lovingly, she was still in control.

Instead, it came out as a desperate plea, begging for information on how to better please him.

“Let me play with your tits,” Mickey said, reaching forward even before Amanda’s enthusiastic nod. As he crudely pawed her large breasts, he continued, boldened by her response. “Suck my cock. And play with yourself as you do.”

“Mmkay,” Amanda moaned, moving one hand between her legs as she opened her mouth. The feeling of Mickey’s hardness sliding past her lips, the knowledge that what she was doing was so wrong, and the fact that her body—her forty-four year old body—was the cause of his arousal…she felt like her entire body was throbbing in time with her pussy.

To her frustration, touching herself through her pajamas wasn’t enough stimulation for her to get off. As she gagged on her teenaged neighbor’s cock, she furiously rubbed at the wet patch between her legs, desperate to cum, but not able to.

“Ungghhh…” she moaned, thrusting her chest forward into Mickey’s eager hands. She’d managed to swallow more than half his cock, but just as she was struggling to get herself off, she was struggling to take any more of his thick member down her throat.

“Good girl,” Mickey panted. “Fuck. Mandy, you’re such a good girl.”

Resigning herself to the fact that she wasn’t going to be able to take Mickey’s entire member down her throat, Amanda started raising her head and lowering it repeatedly, bringing one hand up to play with the exposed stretch of black shaft while her tongue made passionate love to his head.

Her other hand was a blur as she rubbed herself, desperate to cum, wanting nothing more than to find release, relief from the sudden mad lust she felt for her eighteen year guest.

“I’m gonna cum,” Mickey grunted, reaching down and grabbing Amanda’s head. “I’m gonna cum, and you’re going to swallow it, Mandy.”

“Mmmmmf…” Amanda replied, her eyes rolling back in pleasure at the idea of her layabout neighbor using her mouth as a cum dumpster, getting off inside her mouth, letting her taste him again, swallow him, love him…

“Cumminnnnng…” he groaned, thrusting forward as he shot string after string of hot cum down Amanda’s waiting, willing throat. The feeling of Mickey’s cock pulsing, splashing his seed inside her was enough to push her over the edge; she vibrated with pleasure as she reached her own climax, her wet thighs clamping against her hand, her hips thrusting forward as she imagined Mickey between her legs, fucking her, taking her as his own.

“God that was good,” the teenager said, his eyes bleary with arousal. “C’mere.”

Amanda was a gooey mess, and did nothing to resist as Mickey leaned forward and pushed his lips to hers. For several minutes, the two of them made out, Mickey’s hands on her tits, hers still resting on his thickening cock.

Finally, he pushed her off him.

“Better stop,” he said with a smug grin. “Otherwise I’d get hard again, and you’d have to help me find relief for a third time.”

“Okay…” Amanda said dumbly.

Mickey paused, running his eyes up and down her body, before shaking his head.

“Nah,” he said. “It’s late. Christmas Day tomorrow.”

Amanda’s eyes widened. Had this punk kid just…rejected her? No one had ever rejected her before; she wasn’t sure how to take it.

“Please?” she asked, unsure of herself.

“Please what?”

“Please,” she said, glancing down at her body, her exposed tits, the huge wet patch between her legs. She looked so slutty, she felt so wanton…why the hell was he playing so hard to get?

“I’ll tell you what, Mandy,” he said with a grin. “I didn’t get you a Christmas present. How about tomorrow night, after your kids go to sleep, you sneak over to my place, and I’ll give you a proper present.”

He moved her hand back onto his thickening cock.

“Whaddya say?”

“Okay,” Amanda answered meekly. She’d expected him to leap at the chance to fuck her—she knew how long he’d wanted her, how hot the black teenager found her.

Instead, he’d turned her down, then offered himself as a gift…provided she did all the work.

And, worst of all, she’d accepted. She’d do anything to get that black cock inside her again. In her hands, her mouth, her pussy.

Anything.

And somehow, Mickey knew it.

“Merry Christmas,” he said, pulling her face to his again and kissing her more passionately than she could remember her husband kissing her in years. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Uh huh,” Amanda nodded. “Merry Christmas.”

After Mickey left, Amanda put her cum-stained clothing into the washing machine, slipped naked into bed with her husband, and silently got off twice more beside him, thinking about what she was going to do the next night.