Eyes Open
© Copyright 2017 by Wiseguy
Jessie rose from the couch and walked away from me with the deliberate, provocative pace of a woman who expects to draw attention. She caught me looking; the self-satisfied smirk I saw in her reflection in the mirror-faced clock over the mantle gave me the feeling that I’d underestimated one of us. But it was too late to back out now.
Still moving with purpose, she leaned down and hooked a couple of fingers under the top rail of the coffee table and dragged it a few feet to the side, clearing the space in front of the sofa where we’d both been sitting a minute ago, and which I now had to myself.
It had started, as often happens, with questions. Jessie had a lot of hypnosis experience on the receiving end, she’d explained, and was just starting to feel confident in her abilities as a hypnotist. Could she pick my brain for a bit after the meetup? I’d have said yes anyway; the fact that she was putting me up for the night in her spare bedroom, as a favor to the group leader who’d asked me to fly out, just meant we’d have plenty of time for it.
At first the questions were pretty routine: how does this induction work, what are good ways to help someone experience hypnotic amnesia, that sort of thing. Alone in her car, the discussion turned more toward the erotic. We talked about generating arousal and desire, with Jessie asking specifically for advice on handling straight men. I don’t do much erotic hypnosis with straight men, being one myself, so I ended up explaining techniques that have been used effectively on me—though of course when I spoke, I used phrases like “I’ve seen this work nicely for that” and “You might try something like this...” There were enough general questions mixed in that it hadn’t even occurred to me that I might be setting myself up.
“Just watch,” Jessie told me, fixing her eyes on mine. Her hands swiped down from her shoulders to her hips, drawing my eyes downward with them, and she began to dance. Her movements were fluid, sensual, with a lot of hip and shoulder sway.
I looked up to find her still staring directly at my face. “That’s right,” she said. “You don’t have to keep looking into my eyes. You can look at my body, my legs, my arms, my face ... just focus your attention on me. And remember to keep your eyes open.”
That was the point of all this, yes. We’d been sitting on the couch, having a glass of wine, unwinding, when she’d asked me that odd question. “Can you hypnotize someone without having them close their eyes?”
“Sure,” I’d replied. “People go into trance with their eyes open all the time. Daydreaming, getting absorbed in a book or a movie, so-called highway hypnosis—there are tons of examples.”
“Then why don’t you teach it that way?”
I remember shrugging. “It’s generally perceived as easier to work with people with eyes closed. It blocks out visual distractions, and tends to help turn people’s focus inward. Force of habit probably plays a big role, the same way people keep gravitating toward the relaxation inductions.”
“I love trancing with my eyes open, don’t you? Getting that floaty feeling, when things go just a little out of focus?”
“I can’t say I’ve ever tried that myself—I’m an auditory type, so I like to close my eyes and focus in on sound. But I do love that glazed-over look people get during trance.”
“You know,” she’d said, a speculative look in her eyes, “I’ve got an idea for an eyes-open induction that I’ve always wanted to try on someone ... may I?”
And that was how I found myself sitting on Jessie’s couch, watching her body gyrate in smooth, seductive rhythms I couldn’t hear but was already starting to feel. I was reminded vaguely of a famous dance from an online game world—something I’d only paid scant attention to in my brief flirtation with online gaming, because I just don’t get excited by what digitally-animated figures do. But seeing Jessie’s hips sway that way, the close-fitting dress hiked up to increase her freedom of movement, made it very easy to focus.
“Now you’ve got it,” she told me. “So focused, watching my body. Remember to blink—I don’t want your eyes getting dry. It’s always okay to blink, and to let each blink sharpen your focus on me.” I did blink—I needed to—and I glanced up to see that smile again. “That’s right.”
One hand slid behind her and then slowly downward, and Jessie’s little black dress became looser around her upper body. She turned around slowly, lifting at the shoulder straps, exposing cheek-hugging panties of lavender lace with black trim. She toyed with me a little, lowering the dress and then raising it again; I caught my eyelids unconsciously following that movement, lowering and raising with the hemline of the dress. “Keep them open,” she reminded me. “If you close your eyes now, you’ll miss out. Stay focused for me ... focused on me ... that’s right.”
Jessie lifted the dress off over her head and turned to face me again. Her bra matched the panties, with cups of lavender lace trimmed in black and thin black straps. That hypnotic swaying continued, deliberate, sensual, teasing and toying with my captivated mind. “So much easier to focus very closely now, isn’t it?” she was saying. “To notice how my body moves, how you can almost-but-not-quite see through this lace ... and maybe, just maybe, imagining what you’d be seeing if I took this off.” Her hand tugged at a bra strap, pulling it off the shoulder and down, then put it back. “Or these.” She did the same with the side of her panties, drawing down and then back up.
And yes, at that moment, I was very much imagining what she might look like doing that dance naked, and the realization dawned that I was already in trance, already fixated on her body and following her suggestions ... and the blood began to rush into my groin.
My eyelids drooped and Jessie caught me. “Eyes open,” she reminded me again. “Open wide, taking in the sight of my body. Each and every time you blink, those eyes opening right back up again and focusing on my body. Each and every time those eyes try to close, they pop right open again as you focus more deeply, more completely, on every movement of my body. The more you let that happen, the easier it is to just drift, float, let things happen.”
Damn, she’s good, I thought as I felt my eyelids droop again and immediately pop open. I could already feel my cock expanding, and then Jessie made it doubly determined. “That’s right. Doing so well ... I think you’ve earned a little reward.” She reached behind herself, the bra want slack, and she shrugged it off, catching it in one hand and tossing it aside. My eyes locked onto her breasts and watched them sway with her upper body. It felt warm in the room, but her nipples were standing out, and that sent my libido soaring another several notches.
Somewhere in the back of my head, the conversation on the couch played back:
“I’ve never tried this before,” Jessie had said, “so I have no idea whether it will actually work or not. We should probably negotiate something anyway, just in case.”
“Sure. Hypothetically, what did you have in mind?”
“Well ... I’d like to try out some of the arousal things we talked about. Is that okay?”
The off-hand, quasi-hypothetical nature of this negotiation had me totally off guard. “Sure,” I’d agreed, barely even thinking about it.
“So, can I arouse you a lot? Maybe, all the way to orgasm?”
I’d looked around, noted that the shades were down. “Okay.”
“But I kind of want you to resist. Hold back as long as you can, so I really have to work for it. Will you?”
“I promise,” I’d said, grinning and crossing my heart.
“I might take some clothes off,” she’d thrown out casually. “Flash you, show you my boobs, that sort of thing. Do you mind a bit of nudity?”
“Not at all—I like boobs.”
“Me too,” she’d agreed. “Oh—and you can touch me anywhere there’s bare skin. Can I do the same with you?”
“Sure. Though that’s not saying much, really.” I’d felt a little sheepish, since my polo shirt and jeans didn’t leave much bare skin to be touched.
“Well, if you decide you want to be touched somewhere else you can always ask.”
“That works.”
“One more thing ...” she’d said.
As I sat there in a daze, following the motion of Jessie’s breasts, the playback yielded to Jessie’s live voice. “That’s right,” she was saying. “You enjoy looking at my breasts, don’t you? The more you look at them, the more you think about what you could do with them if I’d only come a little closer, isn’t that right? And with all those sexy thoughts running through your imagination, it’s only natural that you’d feel yourself growing more and more aroused with each one ... more aroused each time you blink and refocus ... blink and refocus ... blink ... and ... refocus ...”
Her voice grew softer, slower. “And right now, I have to admit, this is getting me really turned on too. But you can see that, can’t you? So focused on my body, I’m sure you can see how my nipples are standing out ... how my skin is getting flushed. The rhythm of my body, entrancing you, is pulling me into trance too ... and how much more aroused does that make you, the idea that I’m losing control a little bit too? That I might just be unable to stop myself from doing ... well, all those things we talked about in the car, for sure ... at least. You can remember those things now, can’t you? Imagine them happening to you, right now? How much more does each thing you imagine arouse you?”
And just like that, my obedient brain replayed all of that advice from the car on how to arouse men—which, as I’ve already admitted, was largely advice on how to arouse me. I imagined her voice, soft and seductive, right up against my ear, telling me what was going to happen to me. I imagined her hands taking liberties, touching intimately, teasingly. I imagined being slowly undressed, piece by piece, without entirely realizing how it was happening. And I looked into her eyes, and saw the glazed looks she was giving me, which probably reflected the look on my own face to a lesser degree, and felt myself slipping deeper (because mirror neurons, I vaguely thought), which got me more aroused, which led to me staring at her breasts again, the visible signs of her growing arousal feeding into mine.
Oh, yeah, I dimly recalled, the arousal feedback loop. Another idea you gave her.
Her breasts were getting closer, still swaying in that seductive way. She spread my thighs apart and slid between them, her upper legs brushing against my inner thighs as she swerved, breasts dancing maybe a foot from my face. She lifted her arms, which lifted her breasts too.
“I can tell how much you like them,” she said in that dreamy, trancey voice. “I can see it in your face, and in your body.” She leaned way in, putting her mouth right next to my ear, and whispered. “I’ll bet if I were to put my hand between your legs right now I’d feel a really hard cock inside there, wouldn’t I? You wouldn’t be able to hide that from me, and then we’d both know how aroused you are. In fact, I’m going to do that, and you’re going to enjoy it, aren’t you?”
Denim isn’t a great fabric for transmitting touch through, but my antenna was up (so to speak) and there was no mistaking the sensation of her hand stroking, caressing, tracing the outline she knew would be there. And before I could even register that it was happening, I heard myself groan for the first time that night, and the knowledge that I’d just given her more material to work with turned up the heat another notch.
“Very good,” she said, still inches from my ear. “You know how every aroused sound you make just feeds right back into you, making you more helplessly turned on ... and the more you moan for me, the more you can’t not keep getting more and more aroused for me ... just ... like ... this.” She squeezed and I moaned again, and then moaned again at what the first moan did to my balls and my brain.
She stood back up and my eyes fell back onto her breasts. “Look lower,” she told me, and with a finger she traced a line between her breasts and down. My gaze followed, down her stomach, to the waistband of those lace panties. Her hand slipped inside them and I followed the outline all the way down to the damp spot at the very bottom. “That’s right ... this is getting me so turned on that my panties are wet. I should probably just take them off, don’t you think? But then again, how much more does it arouse you to think about taking them off for me? A lot, I see. Just imagine, though, how powerfully my scent affects you when you lean forward and slide these down my legs ... now.”
My body moved on its own, leaning forward, heavy arms reaching out to her hips and pulling down on the panties. I couldn’t say for sure whether the scent that hit me and made me moan again was real or the result of suggestion. It really didn’t matter anyway.
She pushed me back against the sofa and stroked her hands down either side of my face, my neck, and down over my bare chest (bare chest? when did that happen?) and another unstoppable groan escaped my lips. Her leg pressed against my crotch and I felt myself involuntarily thrusting against her. She laughed softly. “Eager, I see.“
She climbed onto my lap and pressed her entire body against mine, wrapping her arms around me, and spoke directly into my ear again. “Remember that one more thing?” she asked, her voice teasing and horny at the same time. “I told you that I have a huge thing for seduction, and that if I got myself worked up I would probably try to seduce you. Do you remember what you said?”
“Yes ...” Getting that word out was the most difficult thing I’d done since the dance started.
“You chuckled,” she reminded me. “You told me you’d never been seduced before; that you’re not the kind of guy women lust after. And you said I could try, if I wanted to.
“I do want to,” she continued. “But I know what you mean when you say try. I’m not going to try; I’m going to do it. I’m already doing it, actually. And I’m going to get you so fucking horny that you’ll let me do anything I want with you, and then I’m going to make you orgasm for me. You’ll try to resist coming for me, because I want you to try ... and I’m going to overwhelm you with arousal until you just can’t resist any more. And the more you think about that, the more powerful your arousal gets, and the more you need to surrender to it ... to let me have what I want ... you.“
She was pressing every button I’d told her about, and for a moment I was afraid I was about to come right then and there. Jessie must have sensed it, because she reared back a little and made piercing eye contact. “Hold it,” she urged me. “Breathe ... go deeper with me ... deeper ... that’s right.”
My eyes tried for the umpteenth time to close and snapped right open again. “Good,” she said, stepping back a little, letting her hands slide down to take mine. “Look at your reflection in the mirror,” she told me. “See how wonderfully spaced-out you look? Now, watch your own face, as you count down for me from 10 to 1, dropping deeper and deeper into trance with each number.”
I stared into my own eyes and barely perceived Jessie moving in my peripheral vision. My lips moved, I heard numbers; was that my voice? Holy fuck, did I sound out of it. Which made my cock throb, and I started to hear moans after each number, which only made things worse. Or better, maybe. Thinking was hard. Too hard to think.
The couch felt different when I sat back down—wait, when did I stand up?—and I realized that was because my jeans and boxer briefs were missing. No sooner did that register than I felt Jessie’s hand squeezing its way down my bare cock and all I could do was moan and thrust my hips at her. She came up to my ear again, letting her mound brush against my straining cock. “Anywhere there’s bare skin,” she reminded me. “And I can see—and feel—exactly how horny you are right now. Your body doesn’t lie ... you can’t hide it, or deny it. Tell me that you want me to take you.“
My lips moved on their own again. “I want you to take me.”
“Tell me that you want me to fuck you.”
“Holy shit ... I want you to fuck me.”
“Tell me that you need to come for me.”
“Oh, god,” I groaned. “I need to come for you.”
Jessie lowered herself onto me, lifted my face to meet my gaze, and stared me down as she began to grind herself on me. “Resist.”
I stared blankly.
“I told you before, I want you to resist. Hold out as long as you can. Make me work for it. My body is right here. I’m almost as close to orgasm as you are. You can touch me wherever and however you want. See if you can make me come before you do.”
My hands went to her breasts, squeezing, caressing, toying. “That’s right,” she said, rising and falling with me. “Of course, everything you do to arouse me also increases your arousal, doesn’t it? So the harder you try to make me come, the harder it is to resist your own orgasm.”
Fuck! As soon as she said that, of course, it became true. As if the sensation of her clenching around me, working me in and out of her, wasn’t doing it fast enough. I took one hand and reached down blindly, feeling my way to her clit.
She gasped and shuddered. “Oh, you sneaky bastard! Don’t you dare stop that, but you need to know how fast that’s working—on both of us. Look into my eyes right now.”
My eyes met hers, my hands still working on her. “That’s right,” she said again. “Lock your eyes onto mind. You’d like to look away, to look at my breasts some more. You want to see what’s happening ... down lower ... but the harder you try to look away, the more it turns you on ... (shit!) ... and the harder and harder it gets ... to resist.”
I couldn’t tear my eyes away from hers. That connection flowed both ways; neither of us could help communicating how close we were to giving in. My finger switched motions, circling her clit while I pinched and rolled a nipple in the other hand.
Jessie helped and shuddered at the same time. “Oh, no, you don’t,” she swore, squeezing down on me with her inner walls. “Your body is hard-wired for this. Your cock is hard, it’s captured inside me, and that’s driving you over the edge. Biology always wins. You can’t ... hold it ... anymore ...” She reached back with one hand, still holding my gaze, and I felt her fingertips stroking the seam in my scrotum, teasing and tickling, moving back ... I willed myself to hold back the pressure. Do ... NOT ... come ... yet ...
I lost. A huge rush of energy surged through my groin, my balls, my cock, and I was totally powerless to contain it any longer. My brain went into spasms of its own, making noises out of my mouth that were part groan, part bellow, and part cry of relief. And through it all, I couldn’t break the eye lock that Jessie had on me. Her eyes flashed in triumph, then suddenly widened and lost focus as her own biology asserted itself.
My wits came back to me while Jessie was still in the throes. “That’s right,” I told her, “keep those eyes locked. No matter how good this feels, keeping those eyes wide open, letting the knowledge of what you did to me fuel this orgasm and keep it going, and going, and going.” My hands circled her breasts, staying mostly away from the nipples to avoid overstimulating sensitive areas. “The longer this goes on, the better it feels, and the better it feels the longer your body keeps it going.”
I saw confusion, surprise, and then surrender flash through Jessie’s eyes before they glazed over, unfocused but still staring. Her body’s gyrations slowed. “And just when you thought it was over, just when you think you can’t come any more ... this happens!” I gave both nipples a hard tweak and her body and mind reacted with an instant, albeit much less powerful, orgasmic surge.
Jessie recovered her wits and we finally broke the eye lock. My softened cock was still inside her. She started to rise up and flopped back down again. “I’m not sure I can stand up yet,” she admitted.
“So we’ll start aftercare like this.” I reached around and brought her in close for a long hug. Her hips shifted, letting my cock slip out, and I realized I’d been wearing a condom. “I don’t remember putting that on.”
“You didn’t—I did, while you were ... distracted.” She met my gaze again and a tiny shudder of residual arousal went through my brain.
“You know that’s how anchors get set, right?”
Jessie winked and grinned. “That’s the idea. I want you highly motivated to come back and see us again.”
I shook my head and chuckled. “You could have just asked, you know.”
“I know. But this way was a lot more fun for both of us.”
“It was.”
“Besides ...” She had the grace to blush a little bit. “That futon in the other room is kind of horrible to sleep on. I was not going to make you do that. So now I can make you a better offer.”
Which she did.