The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Over the weekend Matt would sniff the panties on occasion, and on about half of these occasions he would indulge in another masturbation session. Most were reruns of the original image of taking Heather from behind with her upside-down smile and swaying tits urging him to continue reaming her pussy. With each successive time, the sniffing of her thong became a more integral part of the ritual. He could smell her like she was really in the room. The underwear seemed almost wet, like every time he made her come in his fantasy left the thong nearly wet in his hand. Just the act of smelling her and visualizing the whole scene of her screaming “Fuck me, fuck me!” was making her come so well in the fantasy that it physically manifested in bringing the smell of her panties’ pussy-loving moistness further to life.

On Monday Matt showed up for work back at the laundrymat and it was another slow day. Actually, there never had really been ANY day at this job that couldn’t have accurately been described as a “slow day.” In the morning, there were only one or two people, at most, in there at a time. Now there was a heavy-set Hispanic woman who transferred her wet loads to the large, industrial dryer before heading across the strip mall parking lot to grab a sandwich. After she left, leaving the laundrymat deserted except for Matt lurking in the office, Matt stepped out to see that she had left a stray sock and a pair of white cotton panties.

Matt bent over the cotton briefs and suspended his reach over them, considering the implications of crossing the line of “pervert”, in his mind at least, and becoming the kind of guy that sniffs women’s panties. He considered this for almost two full seconds before muttering “fuck it” and picking up the Latina woman’s underwear.

He pulled it close to his nose and took in an intoxicating inhale. He could smell this woman and instantly pictured herself on her back on her bed, pleasuring herself with three fingers buried deep in her pussy, with the thumb and forefinger from her other hand rolling her clit. Matt was there. It was like watching a surveillance video of the senorita bringing herself off. He took the panties back to his office, behind his one-way mirror and continued to sniff it.

Within 20 minutes, the Hispanic woman returned, checked her dryer (which obviously had some time left on it) and parked herself on the hard plastic chair and began reading a found copy of People.

Matt was fascinated by this woman as he kept taking hits of her womanhood scent from the underwear. He was staring at her through his one-way mirror, watching the woman as he unzipped his jeans. He began to lightly stroke his cock, gently, by draping his fingers gingerly up and down. With all of his concentration, he sniffed the woman’s pussy soaked panties as he stared at her, trying to smell them and pick up the same scent live from smell of the woman’s pussy in the next room. He stood up momentarily to crack the door. Matt wanted more of her scent and if he was going to smell this plump Latina, he needed to get some of her air.

He closed his eyes and pictured this woman gently stroking her pussy just as he was stroking his growing member. He shut his eyes even harder and tried to wet this woman’s lips with the pure power of concentration.

On the chair in the next room, the plump woman started feeling a tingling in her pussy for some reason. It was almost like a soft breath between her legs. The breath was warm, and she could feel a slight breeze in and out on the thatch of hair above her clit. In. Out. In. Out.

She couldn’t figure it out, but she was on fire. She was alone and not thinking of anything except the magazine she was leafing through. She felt hornier than she had been in months, hornier than her fat lazy husband had gotten her in years. Perhaps it was the movie stars in the magazine that were turning her on, but that hot breeze now felt like it was blowing through the room, through her. She kept thinking, what is this breeze? But the physical sensation was now nearly overwhelming all other rational thought. She noticed that she was panting in quick gasps for air. Her pussy was so wet. She had to touch it.

Matt, behind the mirror meanwhile, was immersed in fantasy. He was beating off with the scent of this woman’s panties and picturing a thinner, dream version of this woman. The face kept changing, but her bulbous tits were barely restrained by a see-through black bra. The dream woman was caressing her cocoa colored stomach and reaching down into her black panties and stroking her lips up and down with the tip of her middle fingernail. She was cooing “Oooohhhh” in a soft but desperate voice. The harder Matt shut his eyes, the more the fantasy deepened.

“Oooooohhhhh.” The Latina found herself taken surprise by her own moaning, but she had to agree with the sentiment. She was in a zone of pure pleasure, and the four walls of the laundrymat were falling down and she found herself surrounded by soft white stars blinking. Occasionally she would look around to make sure that no one was there as the mystery breeze turned damp and was practically lapping at top of her pussy lips. She closed her eyes. Her roving hands unbuttoned her jeans, yanked them off her ankles, and rocked back lifting her legs in the air. She reached between her legs into her underwear and began stroking her pussy with fingernail and was shocked at how sopping wet she was. What was going on? Who cares. Just keep rubbing. “Oooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhoohhhh!”

From his office, Matt was shaken from his fantasy by the sound of the woman moaning in the next room. He opened his eyes to find more or less what he was picturing actually happening out on the chair. With her 160 pound body, she was “more” than “less” his mental image. Perhaps he was still in somewhat of a dreamstate, but Matt wasn’t that surprised to see her there. He kept fondling his cock as he brought the woman’s cotton panties to his nose in his secluded office. He took a deep inhale and spontaneously licked at the crotch section with a rapid tongue motion. He breathed out.

“Dios mioooooooo,” came a call from the next room, which was followed by a barely-audible high-pitched squeal. She breathed in & out, almost like some unseen force was breathing for her. Her luscious tits were rising and falling as this mystery breeze felt like it was giving her mouth-to-mouth.

Matt continued his masturbation, and was almost home. He wrapped the cotton briefs around his rock-hard penis—he was over the cliff. He crudely rubbed at his ready cock and quickly came into the panties, coming more than he’d expected. His member pounded hard with each of his six ejaculations of cum. The panties now surrounding his spend erection were little more than a cum-soaked ball of cotton.

Upon cleaning himself up, sort of, he pulled up his pants. He peered outside to see the Latin woman with her feet back on the floor, with her jeans back on. But she was using her magazine as a shield so she could have some semblance of privacy as she continued to gyrate slightly with her right hand down her pants. She obviously wasn’t reading—the magazine was upside down. She was just beginning to come back down to earth and get a sense of her surroundings. If she wasn’t grinning the shit-eating grin of a woman who’d just been brought off to two mind-blowing orgasms, she’d be more scared for what just happened. She could have sworn that it felt like a cock was exploding in her pussy, even though she’d just been stroking her clit with two of her fingers.

Matt made an intentional amount of noise in the office and the woman outside immediately bolted up and buttoned her jeans. After giving her a few seconds head-start Matt exited the office and shut the locked door behind him. He sauntered across the room staring at the disheveled woman. Her hair was in disarray, but she definitely had a sweaty afterglow. He could still smell her, even without her panties shoved under his nose. In fact, he could smell her pussy better than ever, from over eight feet away.

He smiled at her lasciviously as he started to walk in her direction. He thought—smile. As he proceeded to walk past her, he swiveled his head to continue looking at her and his smile was returned by the lustful leer of a porn star. If Matt hadn’t just shot his load, he would have stayed—30 pounds overweight or not for this chick—but as it was, he continued out of the laundrymat and went to the grocery store next-door to consider what had just happened.