9 comments/ 148533 views/ 23 favorites Mind and Matters By: jusduit ----------------------------------------------------------- The following is fiction, intended to entertain. If it doesn't, by all means erase, exit or otherwise eliminate it from your life, as is your right. If I offend or disturb you in anyway, I am sorry, for that is not my intention. If by chance, I make you smile, or maybe wiggle in your seat, well, you'll be getting a touch of what I felt while writing this story. And that's exactly why I wrote it. Thank you sincerely, for your precious time. ----------------------------------------------------------- Prologue A luckier guy never lived. There stands before me a statuesque woman in her underwear. Her long, silky, dark blonde hair is arrayed down her back, her shoulders, even forward over the upper swell of her bulging breasts. She's wearing five inch spike heels, and thigh high stockings held in place by her modestly muscular, contoured thighs. Her eyes are a blue-green mix that rivals that of reef waters in the Caribbean. She's not a small woman, more a woman of substance, of sinew and shape that invites lookers to touch and squeeze and play until they pass out in bliss. Even the perfectly round areole on her large and firm breasts point straight through the stretchy material of her bra, as if to say, "I want you!" Or maybe, it's "I dare you." She stands before me ready, straight, proud and defiant. As I walk around her my eyes are entertained with a show they can scarcely grasp. Her hips are wide yet perfectly shaped to dare anyone to find a flaw. Her midriff is molded, not flat, so deliciously curved as to define new standards in this skin and bones world. Her breasts are the size of cantaloupes, yet firm and malleable while straining to be free of the non-wired, lacey bra. Her lingerie was coordinated, a matched set of tan, delicately stretched, slippery smooth material, partially transparent, and all edged with an appropriate amount of similar patterned lace. Around the bra, the lace was no more than half an inch wide, while around her garter belt, the lace was three times that, and at the top of her stockings, a full six inches of sexy, see-thru pattern begged the eye to look long and hard. Her panties were French cut and featured the lacey touch riding provocatively on her high and accentuated hips. Long strong legs were highlighted by her carefully molded thighs and muscled calves, culminating in slender ankles flowing into diminutive feet. Finally, at the tips of her toes, visible reaching out from the front of her stilettos, was an ultra transparent stocking pattern that let me see her bright red nails. A goddess, she was, right there in front of me, and not the least bit uncomfortable about me checking her out. I stepped around her, simply looking on the first circuit, maybe six feet away. I dropped my clothes as I walked, stripping down to my near bikini briefs. I watched her eyes and she did check out my bulge as I passed. The circle closed as I made my second revolution, down to three feet, and close enough now to smell her perfume, a musky scent made that much more so by the natural aroma beginning to spread from between her legs. Her thighs were together, but unable to hide what I knew was going on inside her. The woman was hot, horny as could be, perhaps more than I was prepared to handle. Yet she was unable to do anything about it, but hope. She was enslaved, subjugated to my will, with no hope of escape. Chapter One I had to quit smoking. It was interfering with everything I did. I felt like a fool going down in the elevator to take a smoke break outside the office, a task made even worse in the winter. I hated not being able to enjoy a good smoke after dining out, or worse, after sex. Trying to find a woman with no smoking inhibitions was far more difficult than finding one who'd fuck on the first date. And I could no longer ignore the cacophony of claims throughout my world from media to doctors to those rat bastard refined smokers that my health was deteriorating with every drag. I simply had to quit, and yet nothing I had tried had worked. The sign on the door a block and a half from my office read, "Hypnosis - painless control over bad habits." It was different. That's what I first thought, and did again every single day I past that door on my way to work. It was different. In the advertising business, we looked for "different," to catch the eye, but different still had to convey the message. This sign did, and yet I went through three years of passing it by without acting. Did that mean the message wasn't clear to me? Or did it mean I just wasn't ready to admit defeat and accept help? That morning, I gave in. I pushed and the door opened against a heavy spring and led to a rather steep, narrow stairway. There was light enough to see but not enough to relieve concern. People died every month in dark hallways in New York City. I took the steps quickly and loudly as if that might scare any errant ghosts or ambushers away. At the top, the way was blocked by a metal door, with no handle and dead bolted from inside. It bore a sign that read, "Please Knock." I did. I was about leave when a click sounded and the door opened inward. Strange, I thought, but I stepped through, less gingerly than the way I had climbed the stairs. When the threat of surprise rises, so does the level of caution, or cowardice. "Come in, please." The voice was soft, un-hurried and warm. I walked in leaving a few of the butterflies in the stairway. The woman, my soon-to-be hypnotist I assumed, was dressed in a printed floral patterned, long skirted dress with darker colors to match the gloom of the stairway. She rose to meet me with an open hand. I shook the cool slender fingers with mine, now stiff with concern. What the hell was I doing? She led me to a couch and guided me down into the plush cushions before sitting across from me in a matching arm chair. I said, "Pardon me, but before we get carried away here..." "Carried away?" She asked in genuine puzzlement. Uh, oh... I thought, a littoral woman. You'd think I just asked her to suck my dick. We hate nit-pickers on the creative side of advertising. You tell them your product is the best, and they want proof. Don't they understand advertising is lies, all in their best interest? Would they listen to another word if we told them it was the third best product in its class? I said, "I mean, before we go any farther... What I mean is, I want to quit smoking." She smiled and said calmly, "I know." I was somewhat surprised by her response, but my New York cynicism overruled the surprise and I said quickly, "You know. I guess that's your job, the occult and all. Well, I noticed your sign downstairs, and it has kind of a direct marketing ring to it. Short but very to the point. Kind of like a brutal mouthwash, kills germs in thirty seconds, if you can take it that long. I suspect you have some salesmanship in your background, but what the hell? I thought I would see if there was a chance you might be able to help me." I can be pretty intense at times, and pretty cool at others. The cool times seem to become more and more scarce with experience. Sometimes I can be a real ass. I felt like one now and rested back into the comfortable couch. She smiled again. Must be her defense, I thought. "Only you can say if I can help you quit smoking." Matter of fact. "Yes, well, I haven't been able to establish that yet, have I?" That came out a bit more direct than I had intended, but she started this oral sparring match. Actually, she seemed like a nice lady and didn't deserve to be considered guilty until proven innocent. "What I mean is, will you try to help me quit smoking?" She smiled. I guess that pleased her, my capitulation. She pulled her armchair right up in front of me, so close that our knees were touching and I spread mine to let hers ride between. She leaned into me and stared directly into my eyes. For the first time in my life, I felt each of my eyes sending independent images to my brain. I could see different vein patterns in her eyes, flaws in the iris's even a slight difference in the timing of her blinks. My left eye was looking into her right, and my right into her left. It was all a bit unnerving in the sense of someone peering inside my head. She said, "That's very good, Mr..." "Demming," I said slowly and methodically without moving or disturbing our intensive contact. That was silly, I thought. I was acting like I was already hypnotized. "Charlie Demming." "Yes, Charlie. You have a very sensitive, and yet very strong aura about you," She said. I contemplated for a moment that she hadn't said those words, that I had said them through her. Had she just read through my carefully maintained mote of cynicism? Something weird was happening. She said, "Charlie, are you aware of that?" "Aware of what?" I asked robotically. "That you have a gift. Your shell, that which you show to the world, is no match for the real you inside." She said, not breaking the contact. "The real me?" I asked robotically again. I had to break out of this, but I could not close my eyes. I tried instead to look deeper into hers. "You mean that." The words surprised me as much as her. "Why yes, I do. You have a gift, I sense, that you have refused to acknowledge all your life. You can see things, Charlie, things that maybe you don't want to see, because they complicate your life, or cause you to rethink your meaning. You don't need me to help you quit smoking, Charlie. You need me to help you find the real you, to let yourself out." She wasn't kidding, she meant every word. More surprising, I could not disagree with her! "You are truly fascinated, aren't you?" I asked, still not breaking the eye to eye meld. "I am, Charlie." She said. "I am too..." I didn't know her name. "Victoria," She said. "Victoria," I said. "Be careful, Charlie, please." She said in a soft and erotic voice. Be careful? What was I about to do? I know I wanted this woman wrapped around my cock for some reason, maybe just the intimate contact we'd made, but I hadn't told her anything about that. Or was she telling me to be careful with this new found power she thinks I have? "Both," She said, as if reading my mind, word for word. There was a completely unexplainable stirring in my pants. I hadn't seen enough of this woman's body to know if I was the least bit interested. And if anything, I was wary of her confidence. She had a sharp featured face, eyes deep in their sockets, rather angular nose, high cheek bones and a somewhat pointed chin, accented by her well defined jaw line. Not my type, normally, probably echoed by a thin body, but I could not tell that through her dress when I had arrived. Still, I felt the desire building. "You are thinking about it, I know. There's a lot to think about. You have a whole new side of you laying itself out in your mind, a power you never knew you had. I can tell you it's far greater than you even suspect right now." She paused, then went on. "You want me, I know as well, and I you. When minds meet like this, the body follows – it's impossible to resist. Desires build up here first," She put her hands to the sides of my head, still not breaking our intense stare, "Not down here" She placed her hand on my heart and then added, "Or here." I nearly jumped when I felt her hand on my groin. It was like a branding iron, but it remained there without searing my skin. I lifted a hand to her breast and was surprised to find a rather substantial, yet pliable mound of flesh. I moved my other hand to the side of her face and let it roam over her ear, to her forehead, down to her nose and stopping on her mouth. I pried her lips apart and let one finger enter. She moved her hand on my cock, pressing it into me and flexing it back out, as if to masturbate me through my pants. She then sucked the finger I had pried into her mouth, gently at first, but quickly graduating to an all out, fantasy driven suck. She had my entire finger inside in no time, up to my palm, and my cock felt her pulsing fingers working on my meat. As I remembered her, before our eyes locked in some kind of unbreakable embrace (was this hypnosis?), she appeared a bit gothic for my tastes. She had long straight black hair, very red, shiny-wet lipstick, and very black eyebrows that as close as they were at the moment, I could not break away from her iris's and pupils to see. But I did not see slut, or cheap. She was just hot in an exotic way. Gothic or not, with my hands making such intimate contact with her mouth and breast, my eyes were delving deep into her psyche. I thought I was going to meld with her completely. Faster and faster I was falling into her mind, body and soul. I pulled my fingers from around her mouth and slipped them down to the bottom of her knees, then the hem of her dark, print dress. Before I could raise the dress, her hands slipped by mine and pulled it up for me. Instantly the musky aroma of aroused sex wafted up to charge our nostrils. It didn't take her thirty seconds more to have my belt undone. We were quickly building a pace of attack. I ran my hands up her thighs and was pleased to find she was wearing no panties at all. In fact, my first finger to arrive at her pussy lips was bathed in wetness that was both hot and clingy. What happened next, blew my mind. Starring still into her eyes, I wished, no, envisioned her rising up, our eyes still locked, and pushing me back on the couch. In my vision, she pulled me free from my pants, and mounted me with her knees plante on either side of my hips. The vision felt so real I was wild with lust to have it happen. And then it did. Just as I dreamed, she rose up, pushing me back with her face in mine, eyes still locked, and pulled me free of my pants. Then she crawled over my lap and set down on my stiff member as if she were meant to be there, my cock slipping up inside her wet vaginal canal as if it were greased and readied all the way to the hilt. Our hips melded together just like our eyes. She made such deep and direct contact with my organ I was ready to cum from the shear excitement of her. We said nothing, nor did we have to. I willed her to withdraw, very slowly, and she did. She was so slow in fact, I wondered if she were superhuman, or just so damned hot as to be able to ask the unbelievable of her body. I knew the strain on her hips and leg muscles, taking minutes to pull up and off my cock had to be felt, had to be painful. She reached a point where only my head was buried, and I willed once again through our eye to eye contact, which had obviously become something far more intensely connected than mere sight, for her to stop, then retrace her movement back down my shaft to bury me once again. I tried to pry my thoughts of lust from my thoughts of logic and explanation. I had willed her to jump my bones without further foreplay. Okay, she may have been preparing to do that on her own anyway. She was obviously skilled at handling people in the confines of her "office." But then she followed my next will, settled back down on my lap and dick until I was buried once again. She was now totally wrapped around my horny cock, her juices slipping around the seem between me and her, and floating down on my balls. Unless this was a case of compounding coincidences, something was going on here that was more science than fiction, or fantasy. My heart beat with the anticipation, and the hot wet mass on my shaft. I thought of a test. I willed the woman to shift her position to turn around and sit back down on my cock, this time up her ass. To my amazement, and shocked excitement and joy at the growing possibility that I had some super power to command her, she pushed me back, leaned back herself so we lost that eye to eye contact, and twirled on my cock. She whispered as she did, "We need to keep it wet until the last second." When her heels were planted either side of my hips, her hands on my knees for stability, she lifted up off my cock and said, "Guide me." I wasted no time in doing just that. I pulled up the dress bunched up around my lap, and flung it up over her shoulders. For the first time I had sight of her skin, and her body. She was thinner than I usually liked, but muscular. Perhaps that is why she was able to do the slow lifts off my cock. She pulled up completely and counted on my hand to guide my shaft to her other hole. I prepared myself for a battering for if she was as tight in the ass as she was wet in the pussy, and muscular women were usually tight in the ass, I could get hurt! She settled down on the head of my cock and began to make small movements up and down, each one pushing her sphincter muscle in an ever widening ring. Eventually, my cock still straight as an arrow, she broke through and immediately slipped down upon me as if she had a vacuum inside her, sucking me up. She groaned. "Are you okay?" I asked, wondering if I'd over-extended my new found control. "Oh, God yes," She moaned, slow and gutturally. She was fine. I tried the will power again. I willed her not to move. She didn't. I reached around and pulled on the nipple of one of her tits – no bra, which was why I hadn't been able to tell she had as much meat there as she has. She groaned again, but did not move. I was sure it was a groan of lust and demand for more, but I stopped and removed my hand just to see. She moaned, "Ohhhhh... don't stop. I'll stay still, I promise." That clinched it. She even used my words. I reached and pinched both nipples with both hands. She groaned louder and more wantonly than I'd have thought she could. Could she be into BDSM? Had I mistook bondage for gothic? I grabbed both her tits and squeezed them harshly. She stiffened and groaned her most wanton burst of demand yet. I mashed them around. I pulled on them, pushed them back in, pulled them to the sides and squeezed them together. Every move I made brought a groan of pleasure. I willed, "You may react now, naturally." No sooner were the words in my mind than she was gyrating on my cock. She moved in circles, massaging my loins with hers, then she lifted her ass up, and pushed right back down to rub my cock to its eruption point with her sphincter muscle and the walls of her ass. I began pumping upward, but not before moving my hands from her tits to between her legs. She squealed at my touch on her clit. She practically enveloped my fingers in her pussy lips and sucked my whole hand inside her. Wildly she moved on my lap and sucked me into her in every hole she could control. I thought of one more thing to try and pulled the fingers of my left hand from her sopping cunt. I raised my hand and brought it to her mouth, where she immediately feasted on her own juices. This brought me over the top. At the first spurt of jiz into her ass, she bucked against my cock, and my hand in her pussy. She wanted more! She began to squeal louder, make demands to fuck her everywhere. She then sucked my fingers into her mouth and gorged on them as I felt the first flow of juices from her labia running down my thighs. Sperm began to fill her ass to the point where some of that was coming back out too, wetting me beyond any salvation short of a shower before I could leave this place. We bucked and brawled until we were spent, my cock drained and her pussy soaked, and her mouth releasing my hand. She folded down and forward, still impaled on my shaft, but free of any contact with my hands. I heard a whimper and thought I might have hurt her. "Are you all right, Victoria?" It sounded stupid, but I didn't know what else to ask. She turned her head in an attempt to look at me under her shoulder. "All right?" She asked, then looked at the floor again, apparently physically drained. "'All right?' He asks?" She tried to look at me and smiled with her eyes, "I am so all right! Let me catch my breath, and let you have whatever you like all over again!" Her head went limply down again. Mind and Matters I relaxed. Again she corroborated the theory that I held some kind of power over her. I wanted to know all about it, and managed to say, "You take as long as you like." After a few moments of silence, she sat back on my lap, my shrinking cock still buried in her ass, and her head resting beside mine, I had to ask, "Can you tell me what just happened?" She hesitated, but said, "You have a gift, Charlie Demming, a gift even stronger than mine." She fell silent and I let the words sink in. "I don't know what to say." The last time I was at a loss for words, airplanes had just crashed into the World Trade Center. "That's ironic." She said with a smile. "Oh?" I asked. "You don't need words. The gift you have is to communicate without them." Her voice was transforming back to clinical. "You convey your thoughts. You put your thoughts in someone else's head, leading them to believe the thoughts are their own. "Don't we all have some form of that? I mean, just shaking your head communicates "no" and "yes," doesn't it?" I tried to join her, but not in the belief in mental telepathy. "This is much more than that, Charlie. You were here all of a few minutes and we were suddenly doing exactly what both of us wanted most. How did you tell me you wanted me in your lap? Or you in my ass?" She wiggled her ass on my limp dick as if to remind me she wasn't through with me yet. I had no response, other than a few stirrings down below. I could not explain what had happened. I had never bedded a woman in such a short time. I felt, but could not yet believe I was talking to her through our eyes. I felt my will flowing across a bridge and into her mind. Later, once eye contact was broken, I still felt the contact, and was still able to impose my will. It was confusing. "Your thoughts came to me, and melded with my own, which in this case were similar." She said quietly. "Really?" I asked, "How do you know you wouldn't have gotten right to it on your own? You must have wanted to do this too, no?" "You're very observant, cynical but observant. Like hypnotism, the transfer of your thoughts cannot force an action in someone else, only stir the opportunity. If I didn't want you, I could have resisted." She was barely whispering in my ear. "Your power can serve you well, but it can be a curse too, and even cause harm. You have a terrible responsibility, now that you know what you have." She turned her head toward me and continued, "Charlie, you must promise me, right now, that you will never use this power to hurt anyone, including yourself. Do you promise?" I was about to speak, but tried the will power flow once more. "I promise," I said through my thoughts, looking directly into her eyes. She smiled and placed a hand beside my face. "I know you mean that, Charlie. Thank you." She was quite a woman. She may be goth or bondage, or somewhere else on the outside, but she was wise and wonderful on the inside. I maneuvered her left leg to push her heel up against her thigh and swung it between us to turn her 180 degrees to face me. My shaft had exited her ass and was now stiffening along her crack. We stared once more each other's eyes and spoke silently of things we wanted to do. My pre-conceived notion of hypnosis disappeared, the entire concept a farcical memory. I was living an experience that rewrote that book in my mind. We talked, some aloud and some through our eyes. She explained that this heretofore hidden power I'd just discovered lies within us all. It takes only the right set of circumstances to bring it out and recognize it. She talked about déjà vu being a common manifestation most people experience as a sign of the power wanting release. There were other signs that we all failed to recognize, like that feeling of the hair rising on the back of the neck, or the ominous foreboding of calamity when we just know something is wrong. "These are very elementary signs however, and most people, well, nearly all people fail to pursue to their root capabilities, the very capabilities you have discovered today." She leaned in and put her arms around me to hug and lapse into blissful comfort and warmth. I accepted this show of affection, unconcerned about future implications. I felt no threat of possession from her, no desire to rope me in and capture me in some relationship I wasn't prepared for. I asked aloud, "How did I make that leap and find that power?" "You didn't." She leaned back and looked me in the eyes and said silently, "You felt so many things at once, Charlie, and yet all so highly focused, the power found you. You are now one in millions. What's more, you recognize it. That makes you one in perhaps billions. So very few ever come to such a base understanding of this capability built into all our minds. It is such a small group, we aren't likely to ever know another so enlightened soul." And we both smiled broadly. We may be the only two such people in the world who knew there was another like us, let alone one who could be so close. "Have you ever met another? Besides me? I asked. "Another who knew the power they had? No." She said, almost sadly. I reflected on that and went clinical on her. "Then how do you know all this? How do you know that one in a million ever finds out? Or that one in a billion finds out and knows how to use it? She laughed aloud. "I'd like to tell you I can see the future, but I can't I can only see inside someone and reflect their thoughts and wishes and capabilities on themselves. I read, Charlie - books. There are accountings throughout the ages of people with this power alive and working in them. Most people look at these as heresy, or witchcraft and the powers therefore invalidated. We tend to disbelieve what we cannot conceive." More reflection was followed by, "What's stopping me from using this badly? I mean, don't get me wrong, but what..." "Some have," She said. "It is believed that Hitler and others throughout history have used this power, most unknowingly, to achieve their nefarious goals. In the end, such people usually fail. I'm not sure why, but I believe it has something to do with the fact that the power is based on the same fundamental goodness that humanity is based on. And though humanity is capable of terrible things, the general goodness of it also prevails. Fortunately, most of the bad examples probably didn't know they had the power. They read too much of their own press and believe they are actually superior, not merely exercising something we all have." She was far too wise to be a hypnotist in a dark cubby hole on 34th Street. She had also rolled with me in the hay with scarcely a few minutes of introduction. This was all getting very confusing. I felt walls closing in on me. "Don't fear it, Charlie. You will get used to it. Use it. Enjoy it. But never hurt anyone with it." She said. "That's easy for you to say," I responded. "I feel like I should fix the world with this! What am I supposed to do?" "I try to put it in perspective, Charlie." She wiggled her ass on my lap and my cock sprang through whatever hoops it had still not cleared on the way to total readiness. "Your life is your life, and everyone else's is theirs. You were born with the same capabilities in all of us. The fact that you recognize more of them than someone else does not obligate you to fix the world. The way I see it, you aren't a preacher with a mission to enlighten others either. That is a calling that comes in different forms. Yours is but to enhance your existence, and increase the quality of life for those around you. You are not the pied piper." She wiggled again as if I didn't hear her calling me mentally to get on with filling her up again. I must admit, the next hour of sex went in one hole and out the other. I was so wrapped up in my new discovery, I could scarcely keep my mind on the most important thing, that moment in time when I was enriching another's life, not to mention my own! I awoke from my trance and fucked the blessed woman silly. Chapter Two Denise was not a loose woman. But as horny as she was, when the right set of circumstances arose, she would not hesitate to let all her pent up emotions gush out like a busted dam. That was what I gathered from my eye to eye with her in the office cafeteria. She was a prima donna to some, the seemingly unreachable-so-bad-mouth-her-instead type. To others, mostly men, she was the wet dream. Still others considered her too good to be true, and just tried not to think about her. To me, with my new found power, she was a challenge, a draw so strong I had to keep reminding myself of my obligation to improve the lives of those around me. I had already formed a rule for myself, that if I found an unwilling, or even hesitant partner, I would forego the opportunity, in gentlemanly style, regardless of my desires. I wondered if I'd be able to pull that off if Denise put me to the test. "Do you mind?" I had asked when approaching her sitting alone. "Not at all," She'd said, indicating the seat across from her. I took it, laid my tray on the table, and leaned forward as if to tell her something in confidence. This was my first attempt to use my new power, excepting my having not thought about a cigarette in three days. It was then that confirmation, hard and real, came to me with even more excitement and anticipation than I had ever imagined. She leaned in too, and our eyes locked. "You are beautiful," I said aloud, stumbling. "Thank you," She answered, aloud. "I want you," I shouted silently through my eyes, prepared for just about anything. "I know," Was all that came back, also through our eye to eye contact. It was working? "If I were King," I melded, "I'd have you instead of my harem." Where the hell did that come from! I felt foolish, embarrassed. I wanted to bed this woman so badly my cock would soon be lifting the table. And yet I could not get directly to the point! It was confusing and frustrating. She giggled inwardly, her body as seen by those around us, not moving. By now some of those were getting curious about our leaning toward each other too. I didn't have much time. "Will you meet me after work?" "Yes," She said silently. I was so flabbergasted with her acceptance, I leaned back abruptly and nearly went right over backwards in my chair, bracing myself at the last second. I heard some laughter around us and figured a few people had seen my hasty retreat, thinking I'd just been shot down like all the rest who had tried to get into Denise's pants. But my confidence meter registered a ten out of ten when Denise suddenly rose from her chair, slipped a napkin under one of my hands, and carried her empty dishes to the window. I was afraid to look while a growing group of male workers were beginning to laugh out loud. But I finally picked up the napkin as if to wipe my mouth. A message on it read, "167 Magnolia, 7pm." I muttered, "Laugh you losers." Chapter Three Following my walk around her, and disrobing to my shorts, I plopped down in a large arm chair in her living room. I began to ask Denise to turn around for me, but she was already turning like a model. The brain waves were working, preceding my verbalization. She asked aloud, "Do you like?" "Are you kidding? You are gorgeous, Denise, perfect in every way." I was not exaggerating. I began to mouth my next thought, but she must have once again heard it coming and walked toward me. In front of my knees she turned away and bent over to grab her ankles, just like I had envisioned. She presented her ass to me in full view, her crack creasing the French cut panties, double creasing them near her vulva. This was a perfect specimen of everything that was good about a woman's body. And my new found power had enabled me to communicate with her in such a way that no man, myself included, might have ever been able to do otherwise. She was not in a trance, nor doing anything but that which she was wishing she had a chance to do all along. I thought she should rise up, and she did. She turned and leaned over me, her hands on the arms of the chair holding her arched back up, her hair dangling over my head. This presented her breasts to me in optimal form. They were magnificently formed, pushing slightly over her bra's lace, bulging beautifully under its smooth surface. I could see the areole perfectly, not only in shadow behind the semi-transparent material, but in texture and form through its sheerness. "Please do," She said. It was as if I'd just said, "May I suck them?" I had thought it, and that was enough. Raising my hand to cup the glorious melons from underneath, I leaned into her and opened my mouth wide to accept a mere fraction of the mass of one inside. They were more firm than I had anticipated, and that was fine with me. I managed to pull the nipple between my teeth and gave it a gentle bite. I was getting the picture with the power bit. I was already anticipating what I had in mind was okay with her because she knew it before I did it. She didn't object. On the contrary, she squealed then purred behind the gentle pain, pushing her breast harder into my mouth. What had happened to my life! In two days I had gone from a typical horny male to an atypical, satiated yet looking for more man. Could life really be this good? Forever? Had I stepped that deep into the "Luck Pool?" Denise pulled back, pouting. I had informed her, simply by thinking it, that she should, though she seemed to have been enjoying tantalizing me beyond my self control. I rose from the chair and just had to hold this magnificent woman. Her head fit perfectly into the crook of my neck, and her hair smelled sweet, and so very personal, such intimacy with no strings attached. It was exhilarating. I ran a hand down through her silken mane, and then both and arrayed the silky falls behind her. With one hand I pulled her head tight and slid my tongue into her mouth to her throat. My other hand began moving up and down from her back to her ass, then around to explore. She demonstrated her approval by tonguing me right back and grinding her loins into my right thigh. I felt the heat, and even a bit of wetness on her panties. I wanted to hold and play with this woman for days, even without fucking her, just to be sure that I had explored every facet of her body. "I'm all yours for as long as you like," She purred. She'd heard my thoughts! It had never occurred to me that anything beyond what I wanted to impart would get through the thought meld process. Well, no harm done I guess, but I decided to be more careful. "Then let's take this very slow, and very easy," I said aloud. She leaned her head back and smiled her approval. Her hands were roaming too, all over my back. I suddenly had the urge to have her hold me and before I could relish the thought, she pushed us slightly apart and slipped a hand into my semi-bikini briefs. It was cool at first, but as slinky and soft as could be. She slid her fingers over my member and tantalized the underside skin. The tension in the cloth pulled at my waist and ass and transferred some of the lovely sensations over more of my body. My cock was pulsing like it had a heart beat all its own. I nearly collapsed in her arms. "Mmmm...," She cooed, "I'm glad you like it." She kissed me again and slid her hand up and down my shaft, ever so slowly working to close her fingers around it. Occasionally, the head of my dick would rub softly against the material of my shorts and cause a massive pulse to ripple through me, sending a reflexive chill through the rest of my body. When that happened, Denise cooed again and snuggled tighter and rubbed me some more. I managed to break my selfish focus long enough to reach down inside her panties, first to her ass, and then down her crack. She wore the satiny material outside her garter straps, a fact I had noted the moment she'd opened the door. They would come off at anytime without disturbing her sexy garter belt and stockings. She'd known from the cafeteria that she would give herself to me tonight, and had not changed her mind in the least. Giving her a sample of the many sensations a foreign hand working inside an article of clothing can give, I slipped my fingers further down her crack, slowly closing in on her most intimate sexual offerings. She squirmed in anticipation. I felt her breasts being pushed up against my chest and loved it. I pushed down further. This was shaping up to be the sex night of my life and I could only hope it would be hers too. "Yes," She said, "So do I." I froze. Was that a response to my thoughts again? Was she hearing everything that was going through my mind! I resumed my movements but could not ignore my concern. What if I suddenly had a bad thought, one of those involuntary lapses of conscience? A million thoughts ran through my mind. I thought about baseball to fog even my current thoughts from her view. I wanted a time-out, go to our corners while I regrouped and assessed my situation. Then I thought about the fact that I was thinking these thoughts and wondered if she was hearing any of the chaos in my mind. Gradually, and given no outward change in her attitude or actions, I was able to refocus my attention on the goddess in my arms and the opportunity before me. I ran my other hand down her back and slipped it beneath her panties too. I slid them both to her sides and over the her hips, still under her panties. Then I pulled the sides up, giving her a wedgy that I hoped she would be grateful when I undid it for her. I know I liked a woman messing about in my underwear, and hoped she liked me playing in hers. It was another of those things that seemed to enhance the intimacy of sexual contact, a kind of welcomed violation of otherwise off limits turf. She pulled on the sides of my briefs and did the same to me. "Ah," I said, interpreting her act to be one of approval rather than retribution. "So you like that?" She said, "Just as much as you." Again! She had to have heard my thoughts. And yet, she seemed so far, only to hear certain thoughts, and not others. It was too confusing to address at such a moment. I was playing among the folds and skirts of a most beautiful woman and had little time or inclination to ruin it with thoughts of fear or reprisal. I ran a hand down between her legs to feel he swollen vulva through the skin tight panties. She put a one handed grip on my cock like that on a golf club, right through my tightened shorts. She was either mimicking my actions, or perceiving my wildest wishes even before I felt them. The sensation was exquisite and I rocked my hips into her to signal my approval. The head of my pole was rubbing on the cotton material, intensely stimulating my most sensitive skin. I loved it! "I know you do, Baby." She said, leaving no doubt she heard that thought. We stood there for quite some time, reaching and touching and holding and massaging, exploring each other's bodies as if we'd just been left on an island and there was nothing else in the world to do. Denise mirrored some of my moves, and executed some of her own. When I released the pressure of her wedgy and began to slip my fingers under the front of her panties toward her swollen lips, she grabbed my rock hard shaft right, and held it as strongly as in a vice. It felt so damn good I could have collapsed in a heap. Chapter Four After I left the hypnotist's "office," I ambled back to work. It was only a couple blocks, but it took me half an hour. Sure, I was satiated and physically exhausted with two of the best orgasms I could remember, but I was far more excited than anything else. I didn't want to let go of anything that had taken place in there, just in case I needed any of it to retain the strange and wonderful power I'd just discovered. Could I really communicate so, directly, so intimately, so profoundly with another person just by making eye contact? Mind and Matters Victoria had told me it wasn't hypnotism as we commonly know it. The classic example is someone in a trance acting like a chicken at the behest of the hypnotist and never remembering when they "wake up. But Victoria told me that was pretty much bunk. Hypnotism is nothing more than suggestion, albeit in a meditative like state, but suggestion and nothing more. There is no way anyone would do anything they wouldn't do were they not under the suggestion. No one would for instance, fuck another person they wouldn't fuck normally, to put it in terms of this story. Then again, she said, one could not expect that here either. So what was the difference? "You'll discover that for yourself, Charlie," She said, and then writhed in my lap once more. When I arrived at my office, I went through security with my head consciously down. Eye contact was my biggest fear, at least until I learned more. I went to my office and closed the door. My secretary Anne said "Hello," and I returned the greeting in without looking. She probably thought I was pissed at one more thing she'd screwed up this morning. Anne was not a bad person. She was quite good looking in a youthful sort of way. She wore all the latest styles, including some the firm frowned upon but never intervened over. Today she was dressed in a tightly knit, thin and stretchy pink top that showed off her perky breasts, and a short skirt that didn't rise high enough to cover the top of her "V" form and bottom of her tummy. I especially liked looking at her from behind in such an outfit, for it showed off the very top of her crack and the flawless skin of her lower back. There was no denying she was hot. She was attractive as a person too, always bubbly thought somewhat mysterious. I never could put a finger on it, but some sort of darkness lingered under that youthful cute façade. Alas, she was just not quite mature enough for my taste. I amused myself thinking perhaps she simply needed just the right experiences to drag her kicking and screaming into the real world of adults and business. She wore her hair short, her makeup light, and far too high heels for the business day. It was clear that she was holding onto those ideals and independence of youth. Looking at her now, through the Venetian blinds of my office, I could see her sitting in her open backed desk chair, showing me that favorite side of her I liked so much. I couldn't help but see my cock slipping down the back of that skirt, taking advantage of the tunnel already peeking out. I turned my chair and looked out the window at the building across the street, anything to cool off. People were working in offices, going on about their daily lives while unbeknownst to them, a powerful force lurked right across Fifth Ave., looking at them at that very moment. I thought about trying my power on one of them, but thought better of it in light of the fact that I could not make out their facial features, let alone see into their eyes. Then I had an idea. I pressed the intercom button, "Anne? Can you come in please?" Anne said, "Yes, Sir," As if she dreaded what was coming. This was her third job this year and it would now be extremely difficult to convince a new employer prospect that she was loosing these jobs solely because of faults at the companies. Sooner or later, the truth would catch up. She couldn't help it – she just didn't give a damn. She put her nail file back in her drawer and rose to meet me and take her medicine. "Anne," I said, seeing she looked resigned to something terrible. I rose from my chair and walked around my desk. Taking the two chairs I had for visitors and turning them to face each other, I motioned her into one, and sat opposite her in the other. We settled in and I was about to say something when she said, "Mr. Demming, I'm sorry about this morning. I really didn't... well, I just wasn't paying attention." She was too shocked at her own admission of guilt to realize her boss was leaning toward her and looking directly into her eyes. "I know," I said. "It happens." She felt weird, like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and Mommy had said, "Don't worry, Honey." "I promise I'll try harder, Mr. Demming. I really need this job." She said, pinning obviously, though not necessarily for the right reasons. I looked deeply into her eyes then and said aloud, "I know you will, Anne. I'm not worried. You are a good and capable woman. You just need to let yourself understand that, and share it. I think this job would be a lot less tedious for you if you took a more aggressive approach. There's no stopping anyone in this business from growing. Talent gets recognized quickly in the right circumstances." Anne felt me inside her mind. It was like listening to Daddy and a guru all at once, and she couldn't argue with a single word. She was so grateful a tear formed in her eye and ran down her cheek. She wanted to tell me she loved me for being so understanding, like a father figure to her, even though I was less that a dozen years older. To her, I was so wise, and so much more sensitive than she'd ever realized. She smiled warmly, and found herself looking up and down my torso. It didn't occur to me then that I was reading her thoughts. I smiled back while looking even more penetratingly into her eyes. I'd decided a course of action. I would not take advantage of this woman, but I would not let the rules of society and business override the feelings of those within it. The more complicated my twisted justification, the easier it was to justify. I attempted to convey without sound my openness to more contact with her. I would put the ball in her court. "Mr. Demming," She said after a minute or so, "I don't know what to say. You have tolerated me for three months and I have done everything I could to piss you off. And you still don't hate me?" I chuckled and said aloud, amazed that I must have gotten through at least a bit with my attempt, "That's okay. I was young once too. I know what it's like to switch gears in life." She sat back in her chair, breaking our eye contact. Then she said, "I actually believe you. So, you did that kind of thing too?" "I still do!" I said with a chuckle. "It can be fun, or come back to haunt you. But it can also come in handy. I guess you just have to know when to use it." "Well, it's a bit embarrassing to be so transparent. I really don't know why you are being so understanding. My last two bosses threw me out like the trash." She said, dusting off the short skirt riding up her thighs. I couldn't help but look. And she saw me, but did little more than smile at my indiscretion. "So, Mr. Demming, what do you want the new Anne to do?" She spoke with a new confidence, and more than a bit of innuendo. She also smoothed her skirt again, this time pulling it just a bit higher on her thighs. I leaned back into her and said nothing. I just looked into her eyes. She made the mistake of responding in kind. My first thought of kissing her was barely out of my head when she leaned closer and stuck her tongue deep into my mouth. Her left hand went around my head and pulled me tighter into her face. I stabbed my tongue into hers as well and for the next couple minutes we were having a suck fest. The action got better every minute too. At first she stabbed and sucked, but when I echoed her advances, she really got moving on me. Her right hand drifted up the top and inside of my right thigh. I did her one better and slid my hand up the inside of her legs, pushing them apart against her tight skirt. I could instantly feel the heat growing between her thighs, then I panicked. I remembered the Venetian blinds. They were open. Anne must have heard my panic and pulled back immediately. She excused her self most politely and rose and left my office. I was deflated, that is except for my now very stiff cock. She'd given me a taste, I guess, for helping her deal with her little immature demons, and that was that. I rose from the chair, pushed both back under the front of my desk, and walked around to my leather swivel chair. I had just rearranged the papers on my desk for my next task when Anne came rushing back into my office, pulling the door shut behind her, and then twisting the blind closers on all three sets of my windows. Then she turned to me and posed, her hips out to one side, her other hand behind her back. She was cute, and sultry. What she lacked in maturity, she made up for in eagerness. My cock, having lost half its dangle angle, suddenly reared right back to full attention. Then she brought her hidden hand around to show me. It held her bra and panties, and she flung them across the room to land on my desk. She smiled. I reached for the garments and lifted the panties directly to my nose. I could definitely smell a woman there, and liked the way she came across my sensors. I even saw a bit of wetness on the crotch where she'd already been as hot and bothered as I. Raising her panties to my nostrils one more time, and deeply inhaling their scent, I pushed myself, and her beyond control. She came rushing across my office and around my desk, where I turned to face the coming attack. "Oh, Mr. Demming. I hope you are ready for this," She said, jumping up into my chair, putting her knees on either side of my hips. I put my hands on her ass and pulled her close. I looked directly into her eyes, more by reflex than intent, and we both went still. "I want to fuck your brains out, you little tart," I thought to myself. "Oh! God, yes!" She said and clamped her lips down on mine, spearing my mouth with the longest tongue I'd ever felt. It came into me long and narrow and amazingly strong. It poked up at the roof of my mouth and all around like a snake searching for prey to scrape up and take back to its lair. When I felt the thing go so far back as to nearly cause me to gag, I could not put aside the thought of what it would be like to have that slinky monster reaming my ass. "Oh, Mr. Demming!" This was becoming her favorite phrase. "If you'll fuck mine, I'll definitely do yours." She'd heard my thoughts! Or had I spoken my wish out loud and didn't know it? The lines between voice and thought communication were blurring. I rose up, with her still held close to my chest, and let her wrap her legs around my waist. "Anne, are you sure you want to get into this? I mean, it's not required for you job or anything. That still depends on your performance..." "Please, Mr. Demming, Just fuck me?" She stabbed her tongue back down my throat and I responded in kind, though clearly not as deep. Then I had an idea. Almost immediately, she said, "Oh yes! Let's do that!" This whole communication thing was as scary as it was efficient. I began to wonder if people I faced could read everything I thought, or just what I intended for them. I found it surprisingly easy to flip the eager secretary a hundred and eighty degrees, especially with her help. When done, I had her crack right in my face, and her head at my loins. I felt her working feverishly on my pants. Anne must have done this before, for she immediately let her thighs down on my shoulders to help support her weight while she dangled on the front of my body. Standing with both our weights was tough enough to control, but with having to support hers with my arms alone would have taken something away from the intimacy of the position. As it was, I had no trouble holding the petite secretary upside down against my chest, and I dove my face directly into her hungry cunt. My tongue went to work immediately, slopping around in her slit and tasting her juices accumulating there. Just as I stuck it as far inside her as I could, I heard a moan and felt a sponge clamp down on my dick, pulling it inside to the hilt. I felt her hand fondling my balls and her throat constricting around the head of my cock. Her lips were sucking on my shaft and her other hand was working its way to my ass. It was like being surrounded, attacked from all directions. That glorious tongue wrapped itself around my cock and practically wasted me before I could respond. I felt as though I was being worked over by a professional who knew exactly what a man needed, and how to give it to him. For some reason, I bit her clitoris. The jolt that ran through her body was the first real shocked surprise she'd shown. "Oh! God! Yes!" She bellowed around my shaft. Was that where the idea had come from? Hell, I didn't know - it was happening, that's all that mattered. She mumbled something else around my cock, something of immense approval, and wiggled her ass in my face to beg for more. Soon, she was humping my face, back and forth, looking for any and all motion and torture on her pussy I could give. I alternated between stabbing her with my tongue and sucking and biting her clit with gentle nibs of my teeth. Then I took her lead and brought one hand up enough to slip a finger up against her anus. She pulled her head off my dick and said, "Please, Mr. Demming, please fuck me now." Her plea was through gasps of breath and a wantonness I'd never heard before. I realized then that she must be one of those nymphomaniacs that I'd always read about, and never met. There was a ghost of a concern floating around the back of my mind, but for now there were two heads totally in sync about what to do at the moment. I reached down with my ass hand and flipped her back upright. My intention was to force her face down on my desk, feet dangling above the floor, and fuck her in the ass. "Oh God, Yes! Mr. Demming. Do it! Just like that!" She was gasping in heat. Again it seemed she was reading my thoughts. It felt good to wave one arm over the left half of my desk and sweep the small stack of papers into the air. "What the hell," I thought. It felt good, looked macho, and I was sure she'd gladly clean it up later. I turned her around on her feet, lifted her a few inches off the floor, and pushed her onto my desk. Just before her body came down on the cool, smooth glass top, I pushed her tight shirt up to her pits and exposed her tits to the cold surface. She squealed when nipples met glass. Then I stood back and looked at the next target, the sweetest little ass I'd ever seen. It bulged at me like the ends of a couple large watermelons, daring me to work between them. I pushed her skirt up roughly and inserted my knees between hers. With one hand on her back to hold her down, as if that were necessary, I used my other to guide my shaft into her sopping pussy. She moaned delightfully at my intrusion. "That's it, Mr. Demming, fuck me like my boss. Punish me for my mistakes." She said almost angrily, arms stretched out across the desk to hold on to the edges. I doubted she'd ever been fucked by a boss before. Otherwise, she'd still be at that job, seeing as how horny she seemed to be. I pumped my cock into her with gusto, slamming her loins into the desk on every plunge. She squealed loud enough to be heard outside my office and I had to caution her, verbally. She quieted the volume, but not the excitement. "I want you up my as, Boss," She said with a gush of air, "Come on, mother fucker, take me up my ass." She had some mouth on her! But that was sure okay with me. I pulled out of her pussy and felt a drip of her juices drop off the end of my prick. Then I guided the head up to her sphincter and pushed up against the door. I asked her, "Are you ready?" She mouthed, more that spoke, "Oh God yes! Do it Boss! Fuck my ass hard!" She was also getting off on the "Boss" bit, I could see, hoping that wasn't a prelude to a recording or a law suit. "The only way I'd sue you now Mr. Demming, is if you don't push that fucking cock into my ass, right now!" She shouted the last couple words. And again with the mind reading! I am not one to disobey an order I cannot refuse. So I pulled back about an inch, and rammed forward with all I needed to push right through her resisting muscle and deep inside her ass. She bounced on my desk, though I don't know how, with her legs off the floor and all. "Yes! Yes! Yes!" She was humping back up at me as if my pounding were nothing at all. "Where did this woman learn to fuck like this?" I wondered. "I had prissy parents and horny brothers, Boss," She said, letting her body go slack for a moment and lying her head on its side on the desktop. "They taught me everything," She said in gushes of air. I was grateful to them, and began a long, slow cyclical withdrawal and reinsertion of my seven inch shaft into her ass. We fell into a rhythm of fill and empty, fill and empty, and with every fill, there was a sigh of satisfaction from my secretary, and with every emptying, a moan of disappointment. I had an another idea. Before I even moved to act on it, She said, "Oh! Yes!" And began fishing around in my desk drawer with her hand. She couldn't see what she was doing, so I guided her a bit farther along and then she had it. She pulled the glass handled letter opener from my drawer, looked it over with a smile, then passed it back down along her side to my reach. I took it, looked it over for size and safety, and agreed with my hunch that we could use it. I pulled aside a little, not enough to pull my cock out of her ass, but enough to see her sopping cunt. The letter opener handle was made of smooth glass, had ridges in the handle where my fingers fit, like a custom fitted pistol, and had a flared guard that separated the handle from the blade, kind of like a dagger. It was perfect for what I had in mind. "Hurry, Boss. I need it so bad." She said, as if I needed additional incentive. I grabbed hold of the intentionally dull, chromed blade and placed the butt end up against her slit. She pushed her ass back as if to gobble the handle up before I could insert. To my amazement and extreme excitement, the damn thing was sucked into her like dust into a Hoover. Before I knew what I'd done, the handle inserted into her pussy up to the guard. Working it around a little bit first, I let her squirm in the new sensation while I left my cock in her ass, and the handle through the thin membranes of her tunnels. Before long however, "Boss" needed to get in on the act too. I lifted my right leg around the dull blade and let it ride between my thighs. I pulled it up a bit and closed my legs on it to give me a little purchase, then backed off a little to pull the handle a few inches back out of her pussy. I waited until she was groaning with anticipation, then begging, then outright demanding my push. My hips thrust forward into her ass driving my cock to the hilt up her chute, and the handle of the opener up her pussy to the guard. She was as filled as anyone I'd ever seen, and I could feel the hard glass handle moving on the other side of the thin membranes of her vagina and anal tunnel, pushing against my cock. It was... about the horniest thing I'd ever felt or seen. Within another minute, we began our rhythmic grinding again and enjoyed the glory of many sensations all at once. I even had free hands to drop down on the desktop, palms up, and grab her titties by the nipples and pull. She loved the minor pain, and the outrageousness of our predicament even more - boss fucking secretary in the ass in the office, and letter opener up her cunt with a pair of male thighs chasing. It just doesn't get any better. We rode like this for several minutes before I felt my load winding up. I didn't have to tell her it was coming. She said, "That's all right, Boss. Let it come. I'm coming again too." She bucked her ass with new zeal. I pulled hard on her tits and rammed my cock and toy into her with everything I had. She reciprocated with a thrust of her own, and we suddenly stopped as if in suspended animation. I was sure she could feel the first burst of cum leaving my balls and rising up the length of my shaft. It came forth with the power of a burst steam pipe and hosed her insides with my jiz.