The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

You are cordially invited to experience an

INTIMATE ADVENTURE

It was a small tent card, parchment-colored, with that intriguing opening imprinted in flawless calligraphy on the front.

“Look inside,” Peg urged, so I flipped the card open and held it so that Helen could read over my shoulder.

In honor of your anniversary

This card entitles you,

Bob and Helen,

To an introductory program.

It was signed by Larry and Peg. There was another name and a phone number on the back of the card. Helen and I just looked at each other for a second, then back at our friends. They were sitting on the edge of their seats, holding hands, and watching us with ill-concealed excitement.

“Umm, thanks,” I finally said. What I was thinking was more like, “Huh?” Here we were in our favorite Italian restaurant, sipping great wine while waiting for a mouth-watering dinner to arrive. It was our seventh anniversary, and our best friends had invited us here to celebrate. We do something like this for most occasions, but we’ve always had a rule against elaborate, expensive gifts. Something told me that this probably broke that rule. “What exactly is this?”

Larry and Peg exchanged a conspiratorial look before Peg explained—if you can call it an explanation. “It’s a service. A very unique, inspiring service. You are in for the most exciting week you’ve had in years.”

“What service?” I asked.

“It’s kind of hard to describe in one sentence,” Larry answered.

“Take as many as you need.”

Larry has a lower bullshit tolerance than anyone I know, so I was surprised at the way he was dancing around this thing. We first met about four years ago in a vanpool. There were five of us in the pool, all near the middle of the GS scale working within a block or two of 7th and D in Southwest DC. It was a sweet deal. The fleet company provided a nice passenger van, not fancy but comfortable. We each paid the fleet company a share to cover the cost of the van, gas, parking and maintenance. We took turns driving, one week per turn. When people spend 3 hours a day in an enclosed space, as we generally did, they can get pretty tight. Larry and I have the same sort of outlook on a lot of things: protesters, Congress, Rush Limbaugh, Dr. Laura, and of course the ineptitude of the local government. It made slogging through the District’s pathetic streets more pleasant, that’s for sure. By the time the vanpool broke up, Larry and Peg and Helen and I were like quadruplets. We took vacations together, had dinners out almost every week, vented our spleens when necessary. Life was good. It still is. But this card, this ‘adventure’ thing, seemed out of character.

Taking a deep breath, Larry tried one more time. “Look, there’s a lot we can’t tell you because it would spoil the surprise. Think of it as a sort of Fantasy Island for the nineties. You tell them what you’d like to do, and they arrange to make it happen. You don’t have to take time off work or fly to some distant island, they do it right here, worked into your regular schedule.”

Helen stirred behind me. “Like that movie, ‘The Game’?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty close. Except you and Bob get to decide what the adventures will be, and you’ll experience them together. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

“We certainly did,” Peg added, giving Larry’s hand another squeeze.

“What did you do in your adventures?” Helen asked.

Peg mimed zipping her lips as Larry answered. “We can’t tell you yet. Afterwards, if you still want to, we can talk about it.”

Still perplexed, I handed the card to Helen and watched her slip it into her purse. “This is certainly . unexpected,” she told them. “You really didn’t have to go to this much trouble and expense.”

“It was no trouble at all,” Peg replied. “You won’t believe how much fun you are going to have.”

“And don’t worry about the expense,” Larry added. “It’s a gift, for Chrissakes. And it’s not refundable, so make sure you enjoy it.”

Peg elbowed Larry in the ribs, almost causing him to spill his wine. I wanted to pursue this a little more, but just then the waiter arrived with our entrees and all non-culinary thoughts were temporarily banished from our minds.

We had a great meal, slipped over to a nearby bar for some adult beverages, and called it a night. The subject of our strange gift never came up again, but I could see Helen puzzling over it the same as I was. Sure enough, once we were alone in the car she asked me what I thought of it.

“It sounds kind of wacko to me,” I told her. “What are they gonna do, make us king and queen for a day? What’s the point in having adult people play make-believe?”

“Maybe the point is to have fun,” she answered after a minute. “How long has it been since we did something really crazy, for no other reason than to laugh about it later?”

“Offhand, I’d say seven years,” I replied, twiddling my wedding band.

Helen made a show of looking at her watch. “Seven years, six hours, 42 minutes . but who’s counting?”

I had to smile. “Would you like to have an intimate adventure right now?” I snuck a hand over and slid it along her thigh suggestively. She laughed, removed my hand and kissed it.

“That’s a little too adventurous for me, thanks.”

With a great show of reluctance I took my hand back. Seeing my wounded puppy-dog look, Helen gave me a sly smile and added, “Let’s get home and see what happens.” That’s as close as Helen ever gets to an overt sexual invitation, so I was a pretty happy guy.

The rest of the evening we worked from the script we’ve been following for years. When we got home, Helen needed some time alone to unwind so she went to bed and I went to the study and puttered around on the computer for an hour. When I came upstairs, she was lying in bed mostly asleep with the TV tuned to the all weather channel. Helen often uses the TV as a night-light; I’ve gotten used to it for her sake.

To wake Helen up a little, I made a bit more noise than was really necessary as I undressed and took care of business in the bathroom. Sure enough, when I came out of the bathroom (leaving the bathroom light on so it would illuminate the bedroom area too) she was stirring a little. Wearing only my briefs, I crawled into the bed and snuggled right up against her, planting a lingering kiss on her forehead. “Hi there,” I whispered.

“Hi there.”

Helen was wearing a thick terry cloth bathrobe over a simple cotton nightgown. Not the most accommodating outfit for what I had in mind; with the thickness of the robe, I couldn’t even tell if she had taken off her bra. She rolled over towards me, so all I could really do was put my arm around her and start silently running my hand up and down her back. With each pass I let my hand wander a little lower, until I was stroking smoothly from the base of her neck down the spine and around her butt. I’d linger on the butt cheek for a few seconds, trying to get Helen’s libido to wake up.

After about 10 minutes, my efforts paid off. Helen sighed and snuggled a little closer, then rolled away from me a bit, undoing the belt that held her robe together. That gave me a clear path to Tittie City, so I reached inside the robe and gently cupped one of her tits in my hand.

“No bra,” I observed. “Are you trying to seduce somebody?”

“Shhh!” I expected that; Helen was never big on playful banter in bed.

Feeling my way along (pardon the pun), I found a nipple and started gently teasing it with my fingers. Soon I felt it starting to stick up and get hard. I switched from just frigging the nipple to cupping the entire tit in my hand, squeezing the way she likes, and I was pleased to hear her start breathing more heavily. A couple of long, open-mouthed kisses later I felt one of her hands trying to get a grip on my cock so I shifted a little, partly to make it easier for her and partly to make it easier for me to reach between her legs. We lay there for a little while stroking each other through our underwear, kissing and fondling and panting. When I started to reach inside her panties, she stopped, kissed me once more and said, “I’ll be right back” before disappearing into the bathroom.

As usual, I slipped off my briefs and wondered what she was doing in there. I could hear running water, maybe the faint sound of a toothbrush against teeth. Why do women have this need to stop and primp in the middle of sex? (Yeah, I know, a lot of women stop to put in a diaphragm or something. That’s fine, but Helen and I decided a few months ago that it was time to let nature take its course in that area.) After a few minutes I noticed my hard-on dwindling so I started picturing Helen naked, stroking me off while I sucked on her tits. That got my little soldier back to attention.

Just in time, too. I saw the bathroom light go out and the door open. I could just make out Helen’s nude body moving toward the TV before she turned it off. She slid back in next to me, pulling the sheet up to her armpits, and snuggled up close. I pulled the extra sheet out from between us and hugged her to me, kissing her neck up and down and stroking her back again. She put a leg up over me and pressed her crotch against my cock, which was once again as hard as when she had stopped earlier. Feeling her short pussy hairs tickling my cock doesn’t do much for me but Helen loves it so I let her move in and out, rubbing herself against the side of my shaft. I could tell she was getting into it because her eyes closed and she started grunting just a little with each breath. I grabbed a handful of her ass and pulled her tighter against me.

Helen arched her back, giving me easy access to her tits again. I went to work on them with my lips and tongue, one at a time, getting the nipples nice and hard, then took turns sucking on them, licking around them, frigging them with my tongue, listening to Helen’s breathing get more labored. Finally, she grabbed my ass and rolled onto her back, pulling me along on top of her.

“I want you inside me,” she whispered. “Sit up and I’ll get you ready.”

I assumed the usual position, kneeling on the bed between her legs. She hooked her legs around my waist and curled forward a little so she could reach my cock. She used the fingertips of both hands to tease my cock by running them from base to tip, over and over, several at once. It’s a great technique and never fails to get me ready to fire. After only a few seconds my hips started pumping all by themselves, and her pussy started getting closer to the end of my rod. She grabbed my cock one more time and rubbed the head up and down along her slit a few times, then guided me straight in.

Here is where things got dicey. Helen has a very long fuse, you see. Thanks to that hand trick I was ready to pop my cork any time, but if I did it too early I’d be leaving Helen in the lurch. Instead of pumping in and out right away, I buried myself as deep into her as I could and then held still, pulling her into me tight and clenching my groin muscles hard as I ground my jaw together.

In a moment her hands rose up and pushed mine away from her hips where I was pulling on her. “Don’t grab,” she said. God, I hate when she does that! So I flattened my hands and started rubbing my palms up and down the sides of her legs. She seemed okay with that and we started moving together, grinding our hips in and out. The tempo started to pick up slowly, but I was still too far ahead for safety so I reached forward with my left hand and started diddling Helen’s right tit again, figuring it should really get her juices flowing. I got three or four good squeezes in before she lifted my hand off and put it back on her leg. “Just keep your hand right there,” she said. Did I mention that I hate when she does that?

One immediate result of all that was that I no longer had to worry about coming too soon; instead, I needed to worry about keeping myself hard enough to do the job. It wasn’t easy, because I could feel my knees slipping backward as Helen pushed into me. Much more and I’d have to either break stride to get back in position (losing all momentum in the process) or fall down on top of her. Helen was still panting and pushing, her face strained, her cheeks puffing with each breath. I held my ground. Watching her tits bounce around while her chest heaved provided just the stimulus I needed to stay hard, and it finally seemed as though Helen was just about ready. Digging my toes into the mattress for support, I pushed against Helen to get a few deeper thrusts in.

That did the trick. Helen’s breathing got super heavy, then after seven or eight gasping breaths she breathed in sharply, held it for a few seconds, and collapsed as she let it go. Without Helen’s weight pushing against me anymore I lost my balance and landed on top of her, my face right between her tits.

Sensing that I wasn’t done yet, Helen rolled us both over so that she was on top of me and slid herself back down onto my cock. Helen sat straight up on me, eyes closed, face straight ahead. Soon we had established a rhythm and I could feel myself getting closer to the brink. I reached a hand up to her breast again. She caught it partway and interlocked our fingers, leaning forward a little more and putting some weight on the hand.

“My legs are getting tired,” she said, taking my other hand the same way.

“Sorry!” Having her restrain my hands like that was kind of hot. Thinking about that and watching her delicious tits bobbing up and down provided the inspiration I needed. Moments later I felt that growing, any-second-now feeling and started panting hard myself. Soon after that I shot my wad, my whole body going tense and then letting go.

Once she was sure I was done, Helen started to climb off me. I’ve never understood why, but she always wants a shower right after we have sex. I wanted her to stay with me for a little bit, so I held onto her hand to keep her in bed.

“Let me go, please.”

“Aw c’mon, just lie here with me for a while,” I appealed.

“I’ll come back, I promise.” I let go and she slipped into the bathroom. While the shower was running I fixed the covers and located her TV remote.

Helen came out of the bathroom already dressed in her nightgown and panties. I was disappointed but not surprised. “You got dressed,” I protested gently. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“You know I don’t like to be naked,” she scolded.

“Why not? You look great naked.”

“No I don’t,” she argued. “How much more fun did you want in one night?”

I made an exaggerated pout and Helen chuckled, slipping into bed and cuddling up against my still-naked body. We kissed and said goodnight. I was left with a vague, unfulfilled feeling so I got up, put on my briefs and went downstairs to watch some late-night trash TV. Helen was sound asleep when I crept back into bed.

The next day was a Friday, hot and humid per the norm. As I sat down to my Cheerios and juice, I saw Helen holding that strange card from the night before. “I was thinking I might call the number today and check it out,” she said.

“Okay. Can’t hurt to ask a few questions.”

“What if they won’t answer questions?”

“Bugger ‘em. We’ll give the card back to Larry and Peg for Christmas.”

Helen didn’t comment, but I could tell the discussion was not over. She’d have me at her mercy soon enough. When the vanpool broke up, I wangled a transfer from GSA in Southwest to the VA in Northwest, which is only a few blocks from Helen’s office at the World Bank. We tried doing the mass transit thing for a while, but the only good thing you can say about the DC Metro system is that it’s clean. It’s not quick, not all that reliable, definitely not affordable, but it’s clean. Our ride from suburban Montgomery County, MD cost us $9.60 a day just for subway fare plus two bucks to park our car at the nearest station, and the total commute typically takes an hour and 45 minutes from door to door. By getting a monthly account at a commercial parking garage on H Street and driving together, we cut our commuting time in half and saved a third of the cost. It’s very convenient, and if one of us has something to discuss it ensures a captive audience for a while.

Helen waited until I was done merging onto I-270 before taking advantage. “Bob? Are we okay?”

That surprised me, especially after the previous evening’s activities. “I guess so,” I told her. “What do you think?”

“I think we’re okay too,” she said. “But I also think that maybe we’re getting a little complacent, a little set in our ways. I feel like sometimes we’re just going through the motions.”

“Is this about having kids?”

“No, it’s not that. I know that will happen sooner or later. It’s more about you and me. We don’t really get excited about things anymore.”

Grinning, I answered, “We both got pretty excited last night, didn’t we?”

Helen blushed a little bit. “That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I’m trying to explain, just give me a minute.” I could see the gears turning in Helen’s head. “Have you noticed Larry and Peg lately?”

“Well, I noticed we were having dinner with them 12 hours ago.” That’s me, master of the obvious.

“You can be such a pain,” she admonished. “I mean, have you noticed anything different about them lately? How they act, how they look at each other, how they talk to each other. Don’t they seem different?”

Different? I thought about it for a few seconds. “I don’t know, maybe they’re a little more touchy-feely than normal.”

“Exactly.” I could see Helen nodding next to me. “There’s some kind of very strong connection between them, something that wasn’t always there or wasn’t always that strong. They’ve been married longer than we have, but they act like newlyweds. Don’t you wonder why?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it,” I admitted. “I take it you have an idea?”

“I’m starting to. Look at us, Bob. When was the last time we just sat and held hands? Two years ago, in Hawaii. Remember?” I remembered. Ten days at a Honolulu resort, made possible by five years of clipping coupons and comparison shopping. After the first few days the crazy urge to see and do everything wore off and we spent most of the time quietly together, just soaking up the sun and being a couple. “I think we . enjoyed each other more in those 10 days than in the entire previous year.”

One of the nice things about I-270 in the morning is that you don’t have to worry if you lose your concentration for a few minutes—it’s hard to have a wreck when nobody is moving. So I let most of my mind wander back to the vacation. Yes, I had to agree, we did ‘enjoy each other’ (which was Helenese for having sex) almost every day instead of the usual once a week. It was a lot of fun, and the benefits carried over for a couple of weeks after we got home.

“That vacation brought us closer together for a while,” Helen continued. “What if this ‘Intimate Adventures’ program can do the same thing? Larry and Peg are so excited about it they broke the standing rule on gifts. I think the least we can do is play along.”

“I guess I can’t argue with you there,” I said.

“Not if you know what’s good for you.”

I let a lecherous grin form on my face. “I wonder what they mean by ‘intimate’.”

Later that morning, my telephone rang. Seeing Helen’s number on the phone’s display, I picked it up right away. “Hi, Hon.”

“Hi.” She sounded happy enough. “I can’t talk long, I have someone on hold. Can you get loose for an appointment Monday afternoon?”

I checked my calendar. “Looks free. What for?”

“Intimate Adventures. I’ve got them on the other line; they say we need to schedule an initial consultation. Can you do Monday at one?”

“Sure. How long will it last?”

“Hold on.” I heard silence while she switched lines to consult with the other caller. “They said plan on it taking up the whole afternoon. Is that okay?”

“Jeez, should we pack an overnight bag?”

“No, but they do suggest that we eat a substantial lunch.”

“Okay, it’s on my schedule.”

“You’re a dear.”

Friday afternoon rush hour is the absolute pits, especially in the summer with people trying to get to the beach. Since I had driven down, it was Helen’s turn to drive back. After the morning’s discussion, though, I thought it might earn me some brownie points if I volunteered.

Helen was strangely quiet on the trip home. I guided us out H Street past the White House, but instead of joining the paralyzed masses on Canal Road I opted for 15th Street straight up until it merged with 16th and took us out of the District. Helen remained silent the whole time, so once I had I merged onto the Outer Loop and established a devil-may-care 5mph pace, I tried to get her talking.

“You look unsettled,” I told her. “What’s wrong? More of what we were talking about this morning?”

She shook her head slowly. “No, I’m all right.”

Okay, I thought, maybe a change of subject will help. “What did you find out about Intimate Adventures today?”

I could see her mental gears switching a little bit. A puzzled look came over her, which was a definite improvement. “Not nearly as much as I wanted to. Mostly they said they would explain everything when we show up for our appointment. We’re supposed to be there at one, have a substantial lunch before hand, and stay away from caffeine that day.”

“Those are strange instructions,” I mused. “What are they going to do, take our blood pressure?”

“Who knows?”

“Is there anything else they want us to do, like take up jogging?”

Helen was struggling with something. “We do have an ‘exercise’ we are supposed to do before Monday.”

“Let me guess—one of those idiotic compatibility tests, right?”

“No,” she said, still searching for words. “It’s a bit more physical than that. We’re supposed to do . what we did last night.”

“You mean fool around?”

She nodded, blushing. “And we’re supposed to talk about it afterwards.”

I made a series of loud buzzer noises. Looking at Helen beside me, I realized I was being a jerk and stopped. “Sorry, Hon, but my bullshit detector is on overload. I can’t believe this crap.” As apologies go I’ve done better, but I was mostly trying to shut the door on a nasty conversational surprise. There are some subjects that Helen and I just don’t talk about, and I had just blundered into a Big One.

That night we had Chinese carryout for dinner. We cleaned up the kitchen together, started the dishwasher running, and Helen announced that she was going to bed early.

“Ooh,” I said, perking my ears up. “Is that an invitation?”

Helen let out an annoyed-sounding sigh. “I don’t know. I need to relax for a little while, okay?”

“Okay.” Since we’d just been together the night before, I didn’t really think she was looking for more already. I got engrossed in an action movie or two on cable and crept quietly into bed at 2:00am without disturbing her a bit.

Saturday was a busy day for both of us. Larry and I went kayaking up on the Patuxent while Helen and Peg went on a minor shopping spree. By dinnertime we were all home and exhausted, so Larry and I grilled up a few boneless chicken breasts while Peg and Helen whipped up a hearty salad for four and popped open a can of ready-to-bake biscuits. The four of us sat around the kitchen table and ate hungrily. Larry and Peg kept looking at each other and at us, some kind of message passing between them. “Something up?” I asked, trying to bring it out into the open.

“Not really,” Peg answered. “Just wondering if you’ve contacted Intimate Adventures yet.”

Helen had just taken a big bite, so I answered for her. “Helen called them yesterday. We’re supposed to go out there for some kind of consultation on Monday.”

“Did you get the name of the person you’re meeting with?” Larry tried to sound nonchalant but his eyes, and Peg’s excited face, betrayed him.

Forcing the food down her throat quickly, Helen waved a hand. “Somebody named Madeline.”

Larry and Peg exchanged another of those co-conspirator looks. A spit-eating grin formed on both their faces. This was getting annoying.

“Are you going to share the joke with us?”

“No way, buddy,” Larry answered. “Can’t do it. Wouldn’t even if we could. You’ll understand after you meet with her.”

“The payoff had better be worth the hype,” I growled.

“It is. And then some.”

That night as I crawled into bed, I looked at Helen’s sleeping face and thought about our homework assignment for the weekend. She’d had a couple of hours to sleep; I figured it couldn’t hurt to try. Her back was turned to me so I nuzzled close behind, kissing the side of her neck and working my way up to her cheek. When she started to stir, I whispered very quietly in her ear: “I want you.”

Helen rolled partway towards me and looked up at me though half-closed eyes. “I’m pretty beat,” she said. “Can we do this tomorrow night?”

I was crestfallen, but it wouldn’t help anything to get into a fight. “Okay, you’ve got a date.” I kissed her gently and let her go back to sleep.

We spent most of Sunday together in the house, just relaxing and killing time. A couple of times I alluded to our appointment and the homework assignment, but Helen always changed the subject. She fixed dinner and I cleaned up after it. She went to bed at nine; X-Files was a rerun so I joined her about twenty minutes later.

She was lying on her back, on top of the covers. She wore a long, thick cotton gown with about a gajillion little buttons holding it together from bottom to top. Every single one of them was buttoned, holding the neckline up to just below her collarbone. The sleeves were long and baggy and gathered at the wrists. The material was just thin enough that I could tell she was still wearing a bra underneath. I wasted no time dropping my clothes and climbing into bed with her.

Helen looked pointedly at my exposed crotch. “Somebody is getting a little presumptuous,” she observed.

“We still haven’t done our homework yet. Wouldn’t want Miss Madeline to send us to the principal’s office, would we?” She chuckled a little, so I got bolder. My hand reached over and started undoing buttons, beginning at the top. Helen doesn’t normally let me undress her, but doing it really turns me on so I tried to distract her with a long, passionate kiss while I manipulated the buttons.

My tactics didn’t work any better than usual. Lifting my hand and setting it aside, she murmured, “I’ll be right back” and escaped into the bathroom. Several minutes later she crept out of the bathroom, turned off the TV and came back to bed, tucking herself inside my right arm and putting her leg across my thighs. Her right hand started stroking my chest in a gentle arc up and down while her leg worked up and down my thighs. There was nothing for my right arm to do but hug her to me, so I did. At the same time, I tried reaching over with my left hand to play with her tits, but when my hand got close she grabbed it gently and pushed it back to my side.

Since I couldn’t get access to the upper deck, so to speak, I tried knocking on the dugout. I opened my legs a little so that the right one pressed up against her mound, while at the same time pushing her into it with my right arm. She must have liked the extra pressure, because the hand that had been caressing my chest went directly south. She hooked her thumb around the base of my cock and used her fingers to play with my balls. It felt really good for the first few minutes and then she started doing it faster and harder, making my balls tingle and my cock stand up like a rocket on the launch pad. When she didn’t slow down or stop after a few seconds I realized what she was doing: she was trying to make me come without getting inside her. Helen does that sometimes, usually when she knows I want her but she’s too tired, not in the mood, whatever. She knows that if she can get me off quickly I’ll be done for the night and she can go to sleep. Most of the time I let her get away with it, but that night I was too horny. Our last encounter, though recent, had been unsatisfying; a quick jerk-off and goodnight would not be enough.

Scooting myself over a little, I rolled onto my right side and pushed Helen down onto the bed. Getting up on all fours, I lowered my head down to one of her tits and sucked gently, working the nipple with my tongue. My left hand wandered down over her mound and I started running fingers gently over her slit. She was hardly wet at all. I felt her hand groping around my lower body. Soon it found my stiff cock and started working it like a pump action shotgun. I worked my fingers inside of her dry slit, found the button and just brushed against it a few times. I felt a hitch in Helen’s breath; after a few more light touches I was rewarded with a flow of moisture. Holding my hand flat against her mound, I worked the whole thing up and down, letting my fingers smear the fluid around. She was starting to lubricate seriously now and her lips were parting on their own, so I reached way down and slid my middle finger right into her box and reached up as far as it would go. Helen reacted with a strong sigh, so I pulled out for a second and then stuck the finger back in, again pushing it in as deep as I could. She was really wet now, juices flowing all over my hand, and her hand let go of my cock and just fell to the bed. I did another withdrawal and reentry; this time I not only got the sigh, but her hand reached down and covered mine, rubbing it hard against the top of her mound. Her hips started gyrating up and down and her breathing quickened. I could tell I had her close to her orgasm and a sense of power flooded through me. Then I felt her free hand lock around my dick again and I knew that I wouldn’t last much longer either.

I pulled my hand out of her box and assumed the kneeling position between her legs. Putting both hands under her ass, I lifted her up and pulled her to me, letting Helen guide my rod into the right socket. I had a pretty decent stance this time, more balanced, so I started pumping away. I could see Helen was getting into it: her eyes were closed, head tilted back into the pillows, and she was breathing through her mouth. That’s it, I thought to myself. She’s getting closer . closer . closer .

Then I blew it, literally as well as figuratively. I was paying so much attention to Helen’s face and body that I had forgotten to keep tabs on myself. My cock jerked and spit several long bursts and then started deflating right away. I ground myself into Helen, hoping to get her off before she noticed my dwindling member. I saw her face scrunching up and felt her inside muscles start squeezing on what was left of my rod. Just when I thought it was hopeless, I felt Helen go into mild spasms and her breathing switched into the heavy, quick gasps that usually mean she is coming. Her body clenched and released a few times then relaxed, slipping off the flaccid remains of my cock and down to the bed.

We both took a few minutes to recoup, and then Helen padded back into the bathroom for a quick shower. I pulled on my underwear and waited for her. She came back out shortly, dressed again in the gown of many buttons, and lay down on her side facing me. “Did you have fun?” she asked me.

“Yes I did,” I answered (as if there could be any other answer!). “Did you?”

“It was nice.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed.”

“Good night, dear.”

“Good night.”

Helen was a little distracted the next morning. By the time we got onto 270 I had a pretty decent idea what was on her mind, and she soon enough proved me right. “We didn’t really talk much last night,” she said.

“Not much,” I answered, stalling for time. “Sometimes there isn’t a whole lot to say.”

Helen pondered that in silence for a few minutes before continuing. “Was there one part that was extra good for you?”

Another loaded question. “No, it was good. It was great. You have a very talented hand.”

“I try,” she answered, flexing and examining the hand in question.

My turn. “Did I . take care of you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes. You did fine. You’re pretty talented yourself.”

“I try.” Another awkward silence followed. “Do you think we’ve done enough homework now?”

“I think so,” she answered.

“Cool.” I flipped on the radio and we listened in silence for the rest of the trip.