The ringing of the phone startled me out of a dream at nine in the morning. I didn’t stir nearly fast enough to answer it, while Coral and Judith didn’t even move. They lay together on Coral’s studio floor, their naked bodies partially covered by strewn nurse’s outfits of various types. One of Judith’s hands had found a restful perch upon Coral’s right breast, the open palm cupping roundly upon its expanse. Thin beams of morning light slipped under the drawn shades of two east-facing windows, brilliantly striping the wooden floor beside their intertwined legs. The scene looked so perfect to me that I found Coral’s camera and snapped a few shots before heading downstairs to make coffee and shower the night’s sex away.

My dick felt pleasantly sore as I lathered in the hot spray, and it began to stiffen as I recalled the dream I’d been having when the phone rang. It had started out much as the night had actually been, having sex with Coral and Judith together in Coral’s studio. At some point I noticed other beautiful women sitting or kneeling around a small fire, burning right in the center of the room. Some of the women were familiar — Mira and Anya, Grace and Lucinda. Others I’d never seen before, but they were all alluring, and sensual, and most importantly — controllable.

I approached them, feeling confident to the point of cockiness, and used the fire as a focusing tool. I instructed the women to stare into the flames, and feel a corresponding heat growing in their loins. As the women listened to my soothing voice and fell into the fire’s spell, they began to strip, their bodies writhing, tossing their clothes into the fire. The flames erupted from the new fuel, and the women fell upon each other, tongues lapping at opened thighs, hands grasping at sweating breasts. Suddenly Coral was there, dancing around the orgiastic circle of overcome women with a camera in her hands, photographing the glistening bodies, documenting the primal energy of the lust-swept lovelies. As the women’s heat grew, so did the fire burning at the center, until flames licked at the ceiling, beginning to catch the structure of our house on fire. Seeing the danger, I called out to Coral, trying to get help, but she was too absorbed in her work to listen, and the flames kept spreading.

A hot sex dream, or a nightmare? Even my cock, half-erect in the shower, seemed undecided.

I thought I understood the dream’s message. I could heat up a number of hypnotized women, moving them around on invisible psychic strings. I could accentuate their weaknesses and accelerate their drives, but could I apply the brakes if unexpected dangers suddenly arose? Not every woman was as obedient as Judith, and runaway lust was a volatile chemical. In the dream’s language, the house was me, and the runaway lust I’d created could become a destructive force. I’d need to be careful, making certain that “my” women didn’t do stupid things that attracted the wrong kind of attention my way.

Judith leaving the house today, for example. Perhaps no neighbors had noticed that a beautiful teenager had arrived late at night and never left. I’d have to make certain that she didn’t walk to her car wearing her obliterated dress, and smelling like she’d fucked an entire army of Corals all night long.

And what about the series of drawings in Coral’s studio? When the sex had moved downstairs in the night, I had become the model, and Coral the photographer. Judith had sucked me off a second time — I had promised her the chance, after all — dressed up in yet another fantasy nurse’s costume. It had felt a bit strange, placing Judith into the immersion state and guiding her into giving me a hypnotized blowjob, with Coral snapping pictures the entire time. But I warmed up to the task, and warmed up even further later on, when fucking Coral from behind while Judith mouth-mauled her tits.

I wondered what those photos looked like. The camera had been stationary, placed upon a tripod, and Coral had kept a camera remote in her hand the entire time we’d become a threesome. Would she actually draw or paint our three bodies intertwined, and how recognizable would we be as ourselves? It was one thing to become an anonymous and iconic hypno-rapist on paper or canvas; another to be Michael, the hypno-therapist, distorting the cheeks of Judith, my client, with my engorged cock.

I pondered the dangers over coffee, and suddenly remembered the phone call that had awakened me. It was Anya, of all people, on the machine, informing me that she would be in town the next afternoon to look for an apartment.

Anya. Sexy and soon to be unrepentantly bi or lesbian Anya, returning surprisingly quickly. Gears began to turn in my brain, and I felt myself growing hard again. Yes there were hazards to the plans forming in my mind, but rewards, too. I rang her back at the number she’d given, and she picked up almost immediately.

‘You must think I’m crazy!” she began. “I mean, I just left, and now I’m coming back!”

“Are things moving that fast?” I asked.

“I handed in my resignation the moment I got back into town. I’ve already spoken to a real estate agent about putting the house on the market, and I’ve been awake since four in the morning, packing my life into boxes. It’s funny — I keep getting these flashes of myself at your hospital, watching you administer the technique, learning all the ins and outs of hypnotizing your patients…”

“Our patients,” I corrected.

“Yes, our patients. I want to get up there quickly, get started, get settled in…”

“You really don’t need to rush, Anya.”

“I know, but… I feel so ready to learn from you and begin a new life! It’s driving me crazy, having all these unfilled holes in my vision of the life I’m moving towards.”

“Makes sense,” I replied, although she couldn’t know how. Filling holes, ins and outs… Her choice of words, not even really heard by her ears, told the story and had me grinning.

“I feel so… liberated!” she suddenly volunteered. “Now that I’m turning this page, I can’t imagine why I even had to think about it. I need to get up there a.s.a.p. to study that technique with you.”

“Your enthusiasm is inspiring. I hope the job meets your expectations.”

“It isn’t just the job. It’s having a new life in a new city, with new possibilities… Which is why I’m being a pest in calling you. I’d like to know whether you could go apartment hunting with me tomorrow. I wouldn’t know where to look, what prices are correct, that sort of thing. I feel like I can trust your judgment, your… perspective. I know it’s super-short notice, and an imposition…”

“Hey, it will be a lazy Sunday otherwise. I’d be happy to help, although I’m still relatively new to the city myself. It would be good if my wife could come. Also, one of her colleagues is married to a real estate agent. Perhaps we could learn of a few things before you even arrive.”

“Fabulous! Can you ask her? Is she there?”

She was here, but still sleeping off the wildest night of sex in her life, and at present I didn’t even know if she’d be able to walk.

“Give me a description of what you think you’re looking for,” I suggested, “and then we’ll get back to you.”

She wanted an apartment as opposed to a house, something bright and spacious, and a large bathroom with a Jacuzzi wouldn’t hurt. She kept stressing the light, and when I pressed, she admitted to being something of an indoor gardener.

“I have a yard,” she explained, “but I like to create a special environment where I actually live, which is inside. You know, little bubbling fountains, heat and exotic orchids, all that humid semi-tropical stuff.”

I got it. Delicate flowering plants that looked like sex organs, living in a perpetual state of moist, dripping heat. Anya’s repressed desires had found an additional form of expression over the years, and I revised my mental picture of her bathroom, and the environment surrounding the tub where she liked to masturbate.

We made arrangements to pick her up at the train station, and then rang off. My heart was racing; even so, I drank more coffee, letting caffeine and morning light chase away cobwebs, and illuminate the proper strategy.

I knew what Anya meant when she spoke of a new life in a new city. Free of old friends and acquaintances, there would be no one to question her if she started to develop new patterns. It isn’t just the job, she had said. Damn straight it wasn’t the job. It was the hypnotism, already unraveling her inhibitions, propelling her into the great unknown and straight into my clutches.

I didn’t see any advantage in introducing her to Judith sooner than planned, because Anya didn’t know the first thing about administering the technique yet. Otherwise, I had one basic question teasing at my brain about all of this: What kind of reaction would Anya have when she got a look at Coral? Actually, that made two questions, because what would Coral do when she got a look at Anya?

I’d been serious when I’d told Coral that Anya was off-limits as a fuckmate. It just felt like one step too far, to bring all of this crazy sex stuff into the hospital.

I turned the pieces of the puzzle around and around, and halfway through my third cup of coffee I felt comfortable with things. I could put Coral on a leash regarding Anya — I didn’t think she was so far gone, especially right after getting so much sex, that she’d go Tasmanian devil on me. And what better means to heighten Anya’s lust for hypno-seduction — a lust she might not have even consciously come to terms with yet — than to dangle a piece of forbidden female fuck-fruit right in front of her nose?

“That… was amazing,” I heard behind me.

Coral stood at the entryway, completely naked. Her hair was everywhere, and her mountainous breasts, the flesh normally so smooth and creamy, were streaked pink. The insides of her thighs were even redder.

She padded forward, and gave me a tight boob-smushing hug. She hadn’t yet showered, and smelled like Coral-cunt and Judith-cunt concentrates thrown into a blender.

“Is Judith still sleeping?”

“Like a lamb. I couldn’t bring myself to awaken her, although I need to get her out of the studio. I need to work with these new images, combine things, get them on paper…”

“I understand. I’ll go upstairs and wake her up. Actually, It’s important that I work with her in my office before she leaves.”

Coral leaned back, searching my eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re going to turn her back into a pumpkin."

“I have to,” I replied. And with a straight face, I said: “I don’t think we can send a woman out into the world all hypnotized to crave wild sex,” to a woman I’d hypnotized to go out in the world craving wild sex.

Coral’s eyes looked dreamy, her lips pouting. “I… wouldn’t mind it if she went out into the world dripping for me. I get all tingly just thinking about it.”

“It’s tempting, I know. But I would never do that.”

“Why not? If Judith walks down the supermarket aisle gasping and fingering the crotch of her shorts, no one would know that it’s our fault.”

“Isn’t Judith going to end up modeling for you in your drawing class? And school starts in what — less than two weeks?”

No answer, but I could see that the point had registered.

“Imagine how that would go if we left her jets burning at full blast as you suggest. She’d have a meltdown for your tits right in front of twenty or thirty teenagers. She wouldn’t be able to hide her lust, and might masturbate rather than model. She’d lose her job and you’d be on the way to losing yours.”

Coral lowered her head. “I guess you’re right. It’s just that… You said you left some suggestions percolating in that huge-titted stripper you knew, in Rose Bloom.”

A.k.a. Rosita. “Nothing much, really. Nothing that would ever cause any…”

“Relax,” she soothed, reaching down to cup my balls through my pants. “Just make it so Judith needs a night like last night again, okay?” Coral’s hand circled my groin, rubbing more vigorously. She definitely knew how to sway any argument her way.

“Okay,” I agreed, rapidly growing hard.

“Because I know I’m going to need it again, Michael. Soon. I don’t know about you, but I’ve just gotten started. We’ve ignited a fire inside of me. I have… so many desires, and they’re… so strong. This one,” she stated, her gaze lowering to my groin, her hand squeezing my hardness. “This one… Oh God, this one…”

I knew what was coming. I’d helped to create it and here it was.

“I’ve been practicing for you,” she whispered, right before attacking by belt and zipper, pushing me against the counter near the sink. Falling to her knees, she took my cock into her hands, rolling it in her palms, warming me up. “I’m going to be the best there is at this one day,” she declared, right before slurping my cock inside her mouth. From the first moment, I could tell that she really had been practicing. The blowjob she gave was a tongue-swirling one that rivaled the gusto and artfulness that Judith could bring to the deed. I really didn’t need this — I felt sated for the most part from the night’s exploits — but Coral was relentless, humming my cock until I did need it. I brought my hands to the back of her head, my legs trembling, urging her to take even more of my length into her small mouth.

She went for it all at once, jamming her face into the flesh at the base of my dick. And once there deep-throating me, she seemed to flip into a different sexual gear, pulling at my cock with her lips, her hands disappearing from sight to play between her legs, muffled orgasmic moaning mixing with her hot saliva and vacuuming cheeks to tug me into shooting my load deep inside her mouth.

I grasped the counter edge to remain standing, my beautiful out-of-control wife lapping every drop from my dick as she eased back down, temporarily satisfied. She stood eventually, her hair even more tornado-swept than before, and gave me an odd dazed grin before turning to leave the kitchen on unsteady legs.

My wife. Days before, she couldn’t have given a blowjob like that. Days before that, she wouldn’t have. Now, she needed to. She even knew about the source of the need, and loved it.

it was like compounding interest, her rapidly accelerating sex drive. How fuck-crazy would Coral be by the time we finally went off on our big honeymoon trip?

Judith was still fast asleep on Coral’s studio floor when I entered. “Wake up!” I snapped.

She shot to her feet, eyes all puffy, looking like she wasn’t even sure where she was.

“Upstairs, pronto!” I followed right behind her, pressing into the small of her back to hurry her up the stairs. Once we were in my office, I locked the door and told her to get down on her knees. Judith sighed, and smiled, and reached out to unzip my pants.

“Did I tell you to suck my dick?”

She froze, except for her eyes, which pleaded for permission.

“You don’t get to touch me again until you’ve proven your talent at getting my colleague to hypno-seduce you,” I stated.

“Uh!” Judith vented, looking stricken.

“I spoke to her — Anya — this morning on the phone. She’s so ready to open her pussy to your tongue, only she doesn’t even know it yet. But you’ll help her to know it, won’t you Judith?”

She nodded her head up and down, eyes still focused on my crotch.

“Now listen to me and do every fucking thing I say, and do it right,” I continued. “I’m going to give you two thousand dollars in cash, and you’re going to do several things with that money. Can you remember them all, or do I have to write a list?”

”I’ll remember!” she assured me.

“First, you’re going to have your hair colored, to turn you into a brunette. I want an expert job done; spare no expense to make it look gorgeous. Go dark brown, very deep.”

She nodded, but her brow furrowed.

“You have a question? What is it?”

“Should I color my hair… everywhere?”

Sweet, having a smart fuck-slave. “No,” I decided on the spot. “Let’s keep that area completely shaved, and flawlessly smooth.”

Judith smiled.

“Next, buy several sexy dresses to wear in public, some even more revealing than the one you wore last night. Understand?”

“Yes!”

“Buy stockings and heels, and some sex toys, too, meant for the enjoyment of another woman. If you aren’t sure what to get, try things out on yourself and see what turns you on the most. I want you to know how to pleasure a woman’s pussy, her clitoris and breasts, in new and novel ways.”

“Mmmmmnnnn…” she moaned, almost a whisper.

“Whisper the name ‘Anya’ whenever you play with yourself, and get used to calling out her name every time you come.”

She nodded.

“I can’t hear you!”

“Anya! Oh God, yes, Anya! Oh yes, oh God ANYA!” she acted out for me.

“Good, but we aren’t finished. You’re to learn every thing you can about orchids.”

“Orchids?”

“Orchids. Learn their names, their habitats, how to grow them, what birds or insects like them, who sells them, who collects them… You are to become an expert on orchids in the next week, do you hear?”

“I hear!”

“You’ve always loved orchids. Orchids have turned you on since you realized you had a cunt. Right?”

“Yes! Orchids! I love them! I’ve always loved them!”

She was an excellent submissive, and I knew she’d do anything I said. But there was one point I wanted further cemented in her psyche, just in case. I told her to lie on her back, and though she didn’t say anything, her eyes almost yelled out “yippee!”

In the immersion state, I hammered at one point, again and again: She would not, could not, ever reveal to Anya or anyone else that I had hypnotized her. Even if Anya managed to hypnotize her, and compelled her to tell the truth, Judith could never divulge that hypnosis had played any part in our history.

Coral had locked herself away in her studio when I ordered Judith to shower. I dressed her in grey sweat pants and an oversized T-shirt, and I couldn’t resist slipping my hand under the waistband of her pants at the front door, giving her pussy a penetrating middle finger probing as a good-bye gesture. Her eyes were moist, nearly worshipping, and she melted into my front, leaning her head against my shoulder.

“I promise I’ll hypnotize and fuck the living hell out of you again,” I whispered. “After you’ve fulfilled your mission.”

Judith sighed, then whispered back: “Your Anya doesn’t stand a chance.”

I watched her drive off, bringing my finger up to my nose. It smelled so sweet, so young and fresh and completely subservient. I had to agree — Anya didn’t stand a chance.

I enjoyed the sort of Saturday that millions enjoy once Judith left. The August weather was ideal, and I spent the afternoon taking care of the yard, mowing the grass and pruning shrubs. It felt good to get some sun, and cover my hands with dirt, and work up a sweat. I watched part of a baseball game in the living room, and fell asleep on the sofa for an hour. The day was simple, quiet, normal. No women to juggle. No lies to defend. No plots to hatch. No surprises.

I knocked on Coral’s studio door in the evening, to ask whether she wanted me to cook dinner. She only cracked her door open a tiny bit, enough that I could see charcoal smudged all over her face. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked as though she was still naked.

“I’m probably going to work deep into the night,” the sliver of her face informed me. “Do whatever you want for dinner.”

“How is it going in there?” I asked. “The images from last night are good?”

“Unbelievable,” she answered, a little smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “This is so exciting! I’m putting my tits and Mira’s legs on Judith’s torso, and it’s so… We need to get Judith and Mira together next time. I need to have Mira and Judith actually together!”

It was weird. My cock started to get hard, imagining what the drawings of Judith must look like with her anatomy tweaked like that. Yet I also felt like taking a step back away from the door, because something in my wife's eyes — or the lone eye I could see — reminded me of crazed scientist characters from old horror films.

“I need to get back to work,” she said, and promptly closed the door.

The sun had set when I left the house, intending to walk to a cozy little restaurant bar a few blocks away. The air was crisp, and a few falling leaves gave reminder that autumn was only a few weeks away.

I felt that I was being watched a few seconds before her car pulled to the curb beside me.

“Get in,” Mira said through her open window.

When I slipped into the passenger seat, Mira's head was backlit by a streetlight’s pinkish glow, and I couldn’t read her expression. She was in profile, staring out the windshield, her mouth slightly open. My eyes slipped along the rounded lips, down the chin and front of her neck, taking in the silhouette of her breasts, which kept swelling and contracting with her breath. She was wearing some kind of tight sundress, no bra, and her nipples were hard. My eyes swept down further and mostly met darkness — I could barely make out the shape of her knees, and her calves under the dash. Instantly, like flipping a switch at the back of my neck, I needed to see those legs. I needed to touch them, feel their shape in my hands.

I leaned over, placing my left hand on her right thigh. The material of her dress felt like silk, the heat of her flesh radiating through it.

“I went to see a therapist yesterday,” Mira whispered, not moving. “I told her that I felt lost, and haunted. I told her that everything I used to care about feels meaningless to me. I told that I don’t even know who I am anymore.”

I felt the flesh on my arms tingling. The last two times Mira had appeared in my life, she’d been aggressive, cunning. This was more like the tortured Mira I’d known when she’d been married, and fighting her own drives.

“She asked me what I wanted more than anything else in the world,” Mira went on. “She asked me to close my eyes, and to tell her the first thing I visualized that made me feel good.”

She went silent, still not turning her head to look at me. “And?” I asked.

Mira wiggled her rear, spreading her legs slightly. “I saw myself dancing, over top of you. Over top of this." Her right hand went to my groin, finding the shape of my cock. “I told the therapist that I’m obsessed with a married man, that I’m in love with him and dream about him. I told her that I tricked and seduced his wife just to get his cock inside me the way it used to be. I told her how hard I’ve tried to forget you, and find someone else. But… I can’t, Michael. I just can’t! I really have tried, I swear. But I just… can’t!”

Her words and the touch of her hand had me raging hard. She squeezed tighter, the silhouette of her tongue running along her lower lip. This was what tortured lust looked like, and on Mira, with that face and body, it was nuclear-tipped.

“What did your therapist say?” I asked, my hand upon her thigh teasing closer to her pussy. If the therapist was any good, she wouldn’t have attempted to convince Mira of any particular direction, instead continuing to get at Mira’s truths, good or bad.

Mira laughed, softly. “She told me that I’m one of the most beautiful women she’s ever seen. That I must know that I can have any man I want. As if I didn’t already know all that.” She shook her head sideways. “I’ve gone on dates, it isn’t like I haven’t tried. It’s so fucking easy to attract attention. Men want me, and once or twice I wanted to want them, too. I… tried… I really did. I let one, a stockbroker, get to third base. He was so heated up, and I wanted to… feel something back…”

Her hand was becoming extremely active on my cock, rubbing at it vigorously.

“I only feel it here!” she lamented. “I feel it with you! I get excited with you, dammit!”

In many ways Mira’s story was tragic. Her conscious will had butted heads with the immersion suggestions I’d left festering inside her unconscious mind and body all these months, and her will had lost. But I couldn’t feel the tragedy, not really. What I felt was the urgent need to run my tongue up Mira’s impeccable legs, and plant my aching dick between them, hard and deep.

“I… I don’t know what to do!” she exploded. “Where I belong, how to cope…”

Her hand knew where it belonged, unzipping my pants and finding my heated throbbing flesh underneath.

“I know I came on so tough the other day," she continued. "I was awful, tricking your piece of Coral, threatening you and…”

If she was going to tell me that I didn’t have to fuck her to buy her silence about our past, I didn’t want to hear it. “Shut up and take us where we can fuck,” I interrupted, leaning in close and digging my hand under her skirt. I pressed through her panties to feel the hot wet slit underneath, and Mira gasped, pulling her panties to the side with her left hand.

“Touch me!” she urged, and I leaned down low, nearly placing my head in her lap, running both hands up the insides of her thighs. I felt the muscles of her right leg tense, and the car began to move. I raised her skirt, and stroked her sopping wet pussy with my middle finger, inhaling Mira’s intoxicating scent.

She drove fast, punching the gas at one point, probably running a yellow light. I’d been here before, hadn’t I, playing with Mira’s needy pussy while she drove us to a place where we could fuck each others brains out. I felt the car slow, turn, brake, and come to a stop.

“Park my car and come up to room 412!” she gasped. “Give me… I need ten minutes to get composed. Wait ten minutes, then come.”

She gave me a passionate tongue-boring kiss before exiting the car and running as only a dancer could run in tall heels. We were in front of the very hotel where Coral and I had first fucked after my public lecture. Could Mira know that somehow?

I found a parking spot a block away, and sat in the darkness for a few minutes, breathing the scent of Mira’s pussy on my hand, my heart racing. Why did the temperature at the core of my being blaze like this whenever I was with this woman? It wasn't the thrill of extra-marital sex, because this wasn’t illicit sex, not in relation to Coral. Whether the fault was Mira's, or Cora's or my own, my wife had cracked opened the door to Mira’s cunt for me, and did it really matter if I walked in alone?

It was torture, giving her the time she’d requested. I knew the hotel’s layout well, and quickly found my way to Mira’s door. I knocked lightly, and she opened it, drawing me into darkness.

“Just do as I say,” she whispered, slipping around behind me and pressing in, her hands running all over my chest.

My eyes weren’t adjusted to the unlit room, but the few seconds of hall light had revealed Mira in a white silk slip and thigh-high white stockings and heels, in a room that might as well be a clone of the one I’d stayed in months before.

“Off with everything,” Mira whispered into my ear, her breasts pressing hard against my back.

I removed my shoes, pants and underwear as she unbuttoned my shirt. And then it was the silk-covered pressure of her stiff nipples all over my back, running all around as her hands reaching around to grasp my hardness. The familiar smells of Mira's luxurious hair and heated cunt had my heart pounding — I was dying to see her wondrous body, to strip the slip away and drop to the floor to bury my head between the silk of her stockings. I began to turn, but she stopped me, and urged me forward to the bed.

“Lie on your back, head right here,” she insisted.

She had arranged a single pillow at the foot of the bed, and I complied. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and I faced the headboard and wall, my dick rising up high. I heard Mira doing something in the room behind me, and had a flash of panic that she would somehow chain me to the bed, or spring some other trap as she had in the past. But then she was there at my side, running her hands down my torso to my cock, and crawling onto the bed above me.

She kneeled beside my legs, head down and hair forward so that I couldn’t see her face. She seemed to be contemplating my erect dick, lightly stroking its length with her fingertips.

Softly, but slowly gaining in volume, I heard music. Familiar music, music that sent jolts into my cock before I consciously recognized what it was. Mira pushed her body erect, writhing upwards with swaying hips, and suddenly there was light, and movement shining upon the white of her slip.

I knew the music, and I knew the film that played upon her beautiful form. The horizontal rectangle of projected light was just slightly broader than the middle of her body, but most of the action shone on her sensuously gyrating torso, just as she wanted. It was the film from her night as Miss Marvelous, pole-dancing with the silhouette of me, strapped to a chair, behind.

Memories of that night collided with the reality of Mira up above. I didn’t know where to look, my eyes torn between past and present. The real Mira was dancing right above me, her expression trance-like. I marveled at her physique as always, which the short slip only accentuated. And there upon that marvelous body, the Mira who had ambushed me at my bachelor’s party months before, shaving my privates and giving me a cum-spurting blowjob. My eyes went to her legs, her real legs, sheathed in the very same stockings she’d worn that night. And it was only then, watching how they bent and flexed, lifted and planted, that I realized that Mira was echoing the movements in the film, keeping time without even looking. It was like she'd memorized every turn, every dip. Either that or she was channeling the Mira of that night, the past eerily present.

In the film playing on Mira's twisting torso, Miss Marvelous left the backdrop of the screen, and visited the crotches of my co-workers one by one. Above me, Mira sank down, aiming her pussy onto the head of my cock, deep knee-bends making her labia stroke the very tip of me.

“I’ve dreamed of this for so long,” she whispered, eyes blazing. Mira used her legs as she spoke, to sink lower into the mattress, slipping my cock-head inside. “You can’t know… how many times I’ve played with myself… watching this film!”

The rectangle of light with the other Mira spread across her neck and face, our former fuck-session playing on her flushed flesh.

“Oh God, yes!” she declared, hands going to her breasts, pushing them up and rolling their weight in languorous circles. The center of her body mimicked the same movement, hips rolling to the beat of the music. Mira began to include an up and down slide into the slow circles, and I saw Miss Marvelous, now cutting away my pants with scissors, moving up the white slip to the top of Mira's head, and back down to the full breasts. She kept the circle-dance-glide going, keeping the beat, easing me in farther and farther. The sound changed in the film, the volume of the music dimming as the sounds of Miss Marvelous’ panting and groaning intensified. She was giving me a full-throated blowjob in the projected image, which I knew had sent her into an orgasm before I’d even blown my load. Mira’s body mimicked the speed of her mouth in the film, her strong legs sliding her body up and down my shaft. Live moans mixed with the recorded ones, out-of-synch echoes bouncing off the walls. It sounded like two porn films featuring the same actress were playing in the room.

“This… is what I want!” she growled at the ceiling, head thrust back. Could she see her therapist's image up there? “This is what I want more than anything in the world! This is what makes me feel good! What the fuck did you think it was?”

I brought my lower body into the thrusting action upon hearing her words. Pumping up as her legs brought her pussy down, I felt my cock being embedded even further inside of her. Mira whooped, blathered something unintelligible, abandoning any attempt at synchronization with the film, or the past. I reached out, took hold of her hips and pushed to turn her as I began to sit up. She went with it, turning her back to me, kneeling and raising her ass.

With my cock already so deep inside, I held onto Mira’s shoulders and jackhammered into her, holding nothing back. Bits of film fucking tickled her hair, the flattened shape of the two of us together humping on the wall. She screamed out my name over and over again, and then she was just screaming, her body going tense and vibrating in orgasm. I wasn’t ready yet, probably because of all the sex with Coral and Judith, and so I kept going, and going. Mira raised herself up to take me in even deeper, shouting ‘Yes! Oh God yes!” at the top of her lungs. And then she was coming again, and I met her surge with my own, bringing my hands to front to clutch onto her for dear life as I lost my load.

We were like that for a very long time, panting, heartbeats pulsing, bodies quivering. At some point we disengaged, and Mira shifted her orientation entirely, her head nestled next to my wet cock, my head placed at her thighs. Her hands played with my softening dick, stroking it lovingly, and I reciprocated by running my hands over the silk of her stockings, all the way from her heels, still on, up to where the seams gave way to smooth tanned flesh.

The film was still playing on the wall above, but I no longer paid any attention to it. The real Mira was right here, periodically letting out loud sighs of contentment and fondling my flaccid cock.

“I love you,” she whispered, so softly that the sounds from the film nearly drowned it out. “Everything I’ve done… is because I love you.”

I squeezed a thigh in response, laying my cheek against the top of her pussy. I turned my head, and gave her clitoris a gentle nibble with my lips.

“I… need this!” she declared, her voice husky. "I'll always need this!"

I almost admitted out loud that I needed her just as badly, and that I loved her as well. Something made me hold back, though — thoughts of my wife, back at home in her studio, or the knowledge that what Mira felt was partly what I’d made her to feel, rather than feelings all her own?

Who knows. Rather than speaking, I began kissing her legs. First the thighs, then down to her knees and calves. By the time I returned, and left the texture of the white silk behind to drag my tongue along the soft flesh leading to Mira’s pussy, she was panting again, legs spread wide, and I was completely hard once more.

I climbed on board of her this time, feeling the tip of her tongue dancing as she had danced. My cock slid past wet open lips, and somewhere along the way the sounds of the film ceased completely. When we both came, the pleasure voiced between us was purely of the present, the echoes of the past back where they belonged.

Mira was reluctant to surrender my cock, long after she had drained it. "Stay with me tonight," she whispered, her head on my abdomen. "If you can."

I didn't know if I could or not, not really. But I knew I would. I'd stay and I'd return to these ideal thighs, and if Coral had a problem with that, I'd have to find a way to get rid of it.