The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Sandy woke up in bed all snuggled up to Lyda. They had slept spooned together, with Lyda’s firm, smooth round butt nestled warmly against Sandy’s belly and thighs. Both of them were naked, and—Sandy sniffed—both of them were a little ripe after last night’s exertions. Ray, the luckiest guy in the world, had staggered out around two in the morning, and somehow it was easier to slip into the cum-wet bed with Lyda than to go across the way to her own room.

But nature called. Sandy slipped out of bed and peed, then decided to fill the whirlpool tub. God, Lyda had looked so damn beautiful fucking Ray! Sandy felt a wistful twinge of envy, wishing that she could have joined in a little more. Sex looked like so much fun! The water thundered into the tub. Sandy knelt and swished it around. It felt pleasantly warm, almost silky. “Morning,” said Lyda from the doorway in a yawny voice. “Have the bathroom for a minute?”

“Sure.” Sandy went into her own room, walked naked to the great front window, and gazed out at the blue morning ocean, sun barely up. Her cell phone chirped, and she retrieved it from her purse. “Hello?” “I thought you were going to call when you got there,” her mother said, sounding gently exasperated. Sandy pushed back her blonde hair. “I’m sorry, Mom! I should’ve called. We were just so hungry that we went out looking for a restaurant, and I completely forgot. We got here okay.” “Did I wake you up?” “No, I woke up all by myself a few minutes ago. I think Lyda’s up now.” “Well, I have to go to work. You girls have a good time, now.” “I’ll try,” Sandy said. “Love you, Mom.” “Love you, too.” Sandy closed her cell phone and wondered what the faint, sour odor she smelled could be. She sniffed her armpits. Gack, it was her! Definitely a little bit gamy! Well, the bath would take care of that.

Lyda opened the bathroom door and said, “All done. You going to take a bath?”

“Just about to.”

The dark-haired girl gave her a sisterly smile. “Mind if I join you? It’s built for two.”

Sandy felt her heart pound a little faster. “That would be great.”

When Sandy got back to the bathroom, Lyda was just lowering herself into the steaming tub. “Ahhh! Feels so fucking good.”

Sandy slipped in beside her. “It does, doesn’t it?” By then the water level was high enough for her to turn on the jets and the bubbler, and for a few seconds she stretched way out and felt as if she were in heaven, with that silky warm water swirling around her taut nipples and her sensitive pussy. She arched her back and hummed.

“So why didn’t you help me out last night with Ray?” asked Lyda teasingly. “He was a good fuck!”

Sandy shrugged. “Wasn’t in the mood. When did you start shaving, you know, down there?”

“My pubic hair? Omigod, I’ve been shaving it like forever.” Lyda hoisted herself up so she was sitting on the broad marble ledge of the bath, with just her legs in the water. She stroked the little landing strip of black hair right above her slit. “Like it? I need to shave again. It’s all stubbly.” She opened her legs. “Feel.”

Sandy stroked the tender pouched flesh just beside Lyda’s pussy and felt the tiny prickles. “It looks really nice,” she said. “I wish I could do mine.”

“Why can’t you?”

Sandy shrugged and made a wry face. “You know, my mom.”

Lyda laughed. “How often does your mom do a pussy inspection? Omigod, let me do you. I’m pretty good at it.” She sloshed back down in the water. “But let’s finish the bath first. I just can’t get over how great your tits look now! Can I feel ‘em?”

The tub was full, and Sandy turned off the faucet. “Sure,” she said, holding her shoulders back.

Lyda stroked her breasts, and the super-sensitive nipples immediately hardened. Lyda grinned. “We oughta see who else on the beach has wet-T contests. We could clean up with these babies. Hey, you like that, don’t you?”

“Mmm, yeah,” sighed Sandy. “You’re the only one who’s touched ‘em since I, you know, got the treatments.” She blushed and added, “Except me, I mean. It’s hard for me to keep my hands off them!”

“I can see why.” Lyda reached for a little bottle of ruby-red body wash. “Let’s see if I can make you feel really good.” She slipped behind Sandy, having the blond girl sit on her legs, and reached around with two palms well filled with the strawberry-scented wash. Sandy caught her breath as Lyda teased and squeezed, and she started trembling with building erotic tension. This was all wrong, she thought muzzily. They shouldn’t be doing this. It wasn’t . . . wasn’t right, was it? Was. . . it? No, it was okay. Lyda wasn’t. . . a guy, and Sandy was only forbidden. . . that is, she only wanted . . . to avoid sex with a guy. Yeah. That was it.

“Now they smell like strawberries, too,” whispered Lyda in her ear. “Bet they’re tasty!”

“Let me do you.”

They splashed around. Lyda knelt in water almost up to her belly button, and Sandy soaped her up until her deeply tanned flesh glistened like a wet seal’s pelt. Sandy felt hot all over—not just from the bath. Her pussy was sending her little throbbing signals of desire. “This is definitely kinky,” Lyda said with a delighted giggle. “You know, I never got it on with another girl before. This has possibilities if you’re not chicken to try. But I was gonna shave you first.”

She got her shaving kit, and she did herself first, with Sandy leaning a cheek on her thigh and watching—and sniffing the tempting wet-girl musky aroma of Lyda’s open pussy. Then Sandy sat on the edge of the tub and let Lyda give her a trim. She tried hard to hold still, but she couldn’t help squirming a little. “You’re really turned on,” Lyda said.

“Yeah, I am,” admitted Sandy. “But I’ve never—you know—with a girl, either, and the idea’s never appealed to me, I mean—before. I haven’t, you know, been all the way with a guy, even.”

“Let’s try it out,” Lyda said with a wicked smile. “We might come to like it.”

They playfully dried each other with big white poofy soft towels, and then they chose Sandy’s bed (less of a mess) to experiment on. They lay on their sides, soft boob to soft boob, and kissed for a long time, their tongues slipping in and out of each other’s mouths. Lyda had her left leg thrust forward, and Sandy clamped it between both her thighs. She writhed, feeling the maddening press of Lyda’s erect nipples on her own, and she stroked the other girl from shoulder blade to the delicious curve of hip, over and over, a lazy, loving, caressing movement. Lyda got turned on pretty quickly, and at last with an impatient little growl in her throat, she rolled Sandy over onto her back. “I’m gonna taste your strawberries,” Lyda said, her breath hot in the hollow of Sandy’s throat. She kissed her way down the swell of Sandy’s breasts, and then she sucked one swollen nipple into her mouth, tormenting it with her tongue.

Sandy moaned in pleasure, stroking Lyda’s damp hair with both hands. “Harder,” she said in a thick voice. “Bite them!”

Cunningly cushioning her teeth with her lips, Lyda sucked and nibbled, and a delirious Sandy felt as though she were right on the edge, right at the top of the great roller-coaster swoop and rise of orgasm, but she couldn’t quite get there. Now Lyda was slipping lower, her pointed hot tongue tracing a slow, tormenting path from tit to belly button, from belly button to the newly shaved flesh of her mons. Sandy opened her legs wide, wide, hoping that Lyda would plunge that hot tongue directly into her, stab it into her pink waiting depths. But instead Lyda teased her demonically, lapping and tickling the creases between her pussy and her thighs. She pointed her tongue, and each warm swish made Sandy shiver. In frustration, Sandy began to knead her own breasts, pinching the nipples, whimpering wordless pleas for Lyda to get on with it!

Ohh, and then. . . then the soft pink hot tongue found her well-lubed slit and delicately parted it, washed over the whole pink frilled valley of Sandy’s pussy. “Yeah,” she groaned. “Yeah, there! Ooh, that’s so good!”

Lyda pulled Sandy’s labia into her mouth, lashing them with her tongue. Sandy felt her hips involuntarily stirring, up and down, the ancient tidal rhythm of sex. “Let me. . . let me get my mouth on you,” she said in a husky voice. “Mm, let me show you how I’d like it.”

They shifted, pussy to mouth, mouth to pussy. Luxuriously Sandy lapped pussy, sticking her tongue deep, then slowly, firmly moving it forward to the other girl’s swollen pink pearl of a clitoris, and she shuddered as she felt Lyda mimicking her actions precisely. It was special, almost mystical, almost as if they had become one creature driven only by lust and the need for pleasure. God, but she loved the taste, the smell! At the same time—

Has he turned me into a fucking lesbian? at the same time she thought of

Gene of a cock, a cock like Ray’s—

Gene’s and felt her inner heat rising, surging, oh, God—

Lyda’s fingers became busy at her slit, and Sandy returned the favor, slipping a finger in, feeling the arch beneath the pubic bone, questing upward, to where the G-spot was supposed to—

Oh God! She screamed in wordless gushing ecstasy, just as Lyda thrashed in release! They had come at the same exact instant, and it was a penetrating feeling, deep, filling her the way light fills a dark room! And it went on and on and on, and all they could do was embrace, each girl holding the other girl’s ass, each one kissing, nibbling pussy, as they fell down the long, slow, beautiful slope on the far side of orgasm.

“Wow,” said Lyda when at last they had rolled apart. “That was. . . just . . . wow!”

Sandy squirmed around until they lay face to face again. “I wanna taste me,” she said, and they kissed, and she found the tang of her own pussy on the other girl’s lips and tongue. They had breakfast—a second breakfast, as Lyda put it with arched eyebrow—and then tried out the swimming pool. Lovely and hot, and when they came dripping out of the water, they hurried into the beach cottage and made love right on the cold tile floor of the kitchen.

Later that day they drove into town, and Lyda found a place to buy a personal vibrator—a rubber cock, uncannily imitating the real thing—and they spent the late afternoon experimenting. Sandy bled a little the first time—Lyda chuckled, “I popped your cherry!”

But the pain was nothing, compared to the pleasure. Sandy knelt on the big soft bed between Lyda’s spread thighs and pumped the cock in and out of her friend’s pussy, making a soft churning sound, hearing her friend’s whispered, gasping instructions, now going slow, now speeding up, now pressing it this way, now that. And she thought that Lyda thrashing and bucking in orgasm was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

That night, they lay exhausted, hugging each other, slowly stroking each other’s backs and asses. “So. . . are you just not into guys?” Lyda asked in a sleepy voice. “’Cause let me tell ya, you’re missing something.”

“It’s not that,” Sandy said. “It’s just, you know, it has to be the right guy.”

“Mm. He’s gonna be a lucky guy! God, I’m dead for sleep.”

Sandy murmured around her nipple, “Really? Not just one more time?”

Lyda ruffled her hair. “Really, I’m—I’m—mmm, that’s nice—but it’s late and—my God, we’ve done it like, like a dozen—mmm, no, I guess I’m not all that sleepy—mmm, turn around so I can lick your pussy—yeah, that’s right, that’s—mmm.” And whatever else she had to say was lost in the sound of eager slurping.