The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Heather was in an especially bad mood as she drove to laundrymat. She had a lousy date last night on her night off. Not that the guy was lousy, but they just didn’t click. Heather just didn’t seem to click with anybody. All of that smalltalk, the awkward silences, stiff politeness ... she didn’t think she’d ever like a man well enough to have sex ever again, much less find a husband someday. There was always something wrong with all of them: boozers, holy rollers, egomaniacs, workaholics. And her beauty and athletic figure seemed to make them all wish she were some sort of loose bimbo. And that just wasn’t going to happen. She would go years before ever fucking again if that’s what it took in the post-collegiate world.

When she arrived at the laundrymat, she rushed in with the upper of her two baskets piled with overflow laundry up to her eyes. As she plowed blindly forward, she slammed right into the guy who worked there. She regained her balance and apologized to him. “Oh, my God, are you OK?”

“Just surprised, but I’m fine,” he countered with an unusual lack of nervousness for him. “I’ll survive.”

As Heather placed her four wash loads, she couldn’t help but think that as crappy as her job and life were, at least she didn’t make change and clean lint for a living.

Matt busied himself with cleaning up leftover newspapers, always about 15 feet from Heather, and started in on her. With a full week of practicing on her scent from last week’s leftover thong, it was easy to pick up her odor. He had already masturbated with her acrid yet enthralling aroma each of the past seven days, and he already was locked onto her. He had to start slow though, since there was still an old woman left folding her laundry in the room.

He was breathing in and out at the same barely perceptible rate of Heather’s breath. It was about five minutes til she was aware she was breathing slightly heavy. She did feel something like a warm breeze; she felt she must be imagining things but it felt like a breeze was blowing right through her sweatpants.

While Matt was tidying the place up he began to breathe deeper as he could smell Heather’s personal odors which today featured more than a tinge of sweat. He allowed himself to imagine her pussy lips loosening ever so slightly and starting to lubricate. He started to try to plant some ideas with Heather. The laundry guy is surprisingly attractive ... in fact, he’s quite handsome ... he’s downright gorgeous ... and a terrific guy.

Heather continued with her laundry loading and was still vaguely thinking about how rotten it would be to work in a laundrymat. But this guy must have more going for him. Just look at him. He was actually kind of cute. Very cute. She’d never given him the time of day before, but perhaps that could change under the right circumstances. God, maybe she was crazy, but he was kind of hot. Hot, yes. It was getting warm in here.

After another ten minutes, the elderly woman was finished with her laundry and slowly shuffling out the opposite door. It was barely fast enough to suit Matt’s pace. As much as he was still unsure of his latent talent—and as much as he wanted to savor this moment—his own horniness was beginning to get the best of him. He pictured Heather’s wet cunt, which already made her moister. He tried to exhale and inhale words with his deep breath. The words were only in his head, but he timed his concentration on them to his breathing. You are definitely getting excited. That guy is turning you on. Just seeing his muscular legs makes you imagine his beautiful cock. If only you could touch it, feel it, suck it, just look at his bulging manhood. You need a penis. You’re picturing it—you’ve always needed his gorgeously thick prick. You are trembling hot from just being this near to your fantasy penis.

Heather shook violently with a thundering tremor that almost knocked her off her feet. Her breathing was fast and furious; she was panting like she’d sprinted a half-mile. And she could barely see with her brain occupied by visions—of what the laundry guy would look like naked. Why was she thinking this? Was she losing her mind? Why was she breathing so damn heavily? As he walked back into his office, she stared with a combination of mindlessness and lust at his legs. Just before he disappeared, she panned up to his baggy shorts. As his ass vanished she pictured his big monster surfer dick being freed from those shorts. Oh fuck, it’s burning hot. And my vagina is as wet as a sponge.

Matt saw enough of Heather to know that she was off and running. He bathed his nose in her aroma. He shut his eyes to increase to powers of concentration and spoke to her pussy with his mind. This man is making you uncontrollably hot. Just the thought of his massive cock is turning you into a shameless slut. You need this man. You need to be satisfied. You need to be touched right now. Your pussy needs to be touched. Not your vagina—your pussy, your cunt. It’s about time that you start to think like the wanton slut you’re becoming. You’d give anything to have that cock ... in any hole you can manage to squeeze around it.

Heather was thinking about his pulsating penis, I mean cock. She was sweating and her breathing had reached a deep pant. She was so preoccupied with the image of his monster rod that she didn’t really notice that she had her hands down her sweatpants and was rubbing her clit rhythmically. Somebody could walk in at any moment, but who cares. Heather had to fondle her titties. She was tracing circles around her nipples with the edges of her thumb and middle fingernails, like she was turning a radio knob up and down. Fuck, she was hot. The sound of her own “Ohh” surprised her. She wasn’t even capable of rational thought at this point, but if she could it would have been something like: Fuck, I’ve got to have that fucking cock. She couldn’t believe that she was trapped out here with an itchy pussy, which could only be scratched by the thick swinging meat hammer behind that door. Fuck.

Matt had played with himself long enough know that his cock was the largest it had ever been. It was almost poking out above his Hawaiian trunks. He wasn’t sure how much waiting a man could take. He had to speed this up ... you’ve got to have this man—NOW!

Heather drifted over to the office door. She was kneading her boobs with both hands now and slightly straddling the door jamb and sliding up and down for the friction to relieve her burning, dripping, itchy pussy. “Hohhhhhh.” Heather was about to explode. She kicked at the door with her right foot as she thrust her pelvis forward to keep the door jamb scraping between her legs. “Let me innnnnnhhh!!!!”

Matt opened the door and pretended to be oblivious. He wasn’t one-tenth as good at acting as he was at making this girl hot. “Can I help you?”

Still with her hands at her breasts, she grabbed the upper part of her tanktop and bra straps and yanked out hard, freeing her tits from their sweaty prison. “Fuck me!!!” What was she saying? She was squeezing her tits together and forward into some kind of super-cleavage. Heather was out of control; part of her was observing her horny id carry on like a bitch in heat. Who fucking cares, just get to that hot cock. She looked down at his shorts and saw the tentpole that was practically singing to her. She finally dropped her hands from her boobs to grab his shorts at the hips and tore them down to his ankles. His fully-erect member was dragged down with his shorts and then bounced back up. His eight-inch (or was it even nine-inches?!) cock was still momentarily bobbing up and down from the impact of the pants rip as Heather’s mouth lunged for it.

Heather kissed his cock head and sucked at it quickly like a baby with a nipple. She wanted nothing more than to lick his lovely man flesh from now until forever. My god, she thought, I’ve only done this once! She was ashamed of how little experience she had ... that prude was somebody she didn’t even know anymore, she was a whore for his cock. God, that cock. She hoarked up some saliva and spit generously into her right palm and used the lubed hand to rub up and down her cock. Sure, it was attached to his body, but for now it was her shaft she was licking—it belonged to her. There was something in there that belonged to her: his cum, and the sooner she got his hot spunk somewhere inside her, the sooner she would be at peace. Everything until then was agony ... beautiful, sexy agony. She opened her mouth wide and pressed her drooling his into an O right in front of her mouth. Heather rocked her mouth and hand up and down his steamy flesh stick. “Fuck my face with your beautiful cock!!!” she exhaled in a breathy voice she’d never used before in her life.

For a second-time cocksucker, Heather was quite accomplished. It certainly didn’t hurt that Matt was able to continue guiding her every instinct. The whole experience was otherworldly for Matt. It was like hearing your voice echo on a telephone—he’d think of what she would do, she’d do it almost before he could finish the thought, and it would drive him (and so consequently her too) to new heights of ecstasy. Flick the bottom of the cock with your tongue while you suck. She did. Matt moaned, “Ahhh.” Open your mouth wider and suck further like a popsicle. Heather-slut did. Matt’s smile grew. Stroke me soft with your hands from below my ass to my balls. The topless blonde-streaked princess did. Matt’s eyes started rolling back into his head as he continued his orchestrations. Deeper—softer—wetter—smoother. The girl next door, I mean the raving cock slut’s mouth was impossibly smooth on his dick. “Oh fuck”, Matt cried. “Mmoww, fmukk”, Heather hummed on his turgid shaft.

The only thing letting Matt go this long without losing his load was the fact that he’d been beating off about eight times a day since he’d discovered the power of his nose. So his stamina had naturally been developed. And he’d need every bit of it. One look at this beauty queen moaning and swallowing his jackhammer sized erection was a snapshot of anybody’s erotic fantasy.

Matt softly grabbed a bundle of her wild hair and guided her back off his penis and stood her up to her feet. She returned his initial kiss with a roving tongue that glided around every part of his mouth. Heather wanted to devour this man. He was the embodiment of everything she was ever looking for. Still in a lip lock, she hopped forward to press his flying erection between her legs. She was still wearing her light gray sweatpants and Matt could feel that her pussy had already completed soaked through her panties and most of her sweats. Right now you’re having the greatest orgasm of your life, and you only want more, more, more.

“Ohhhwww, fuck me! Oh fuck me with that golden fucking cock! I need your fucking stud dick deep inside my cunt!” She broke her hands from the constant grabbing of his ass, and pulled her sweatpants down. “Stop fucking around and starting fucking me silly!” Another kiss and she playfully bit his lower lip and replaced her roving hands to his gorgeous bare ass. “Gimme that fucking shaft. I want it. Oh, my fucking God.” She raised herself up on her toes and grabbed the beloved dick, giving him the briefest of hand jobs before plunging it into her sopping pussy.

To Matt, it felt like his cock was shrink-wrapped in electric velvet. Not that he’d had sex with that many women before, but he’d never felt a pussy wet anything like this before. He felt like he could have shoved a can of tennis balls into her at this point, she was so ready.

Heather felt like his bursting salami was the size of a tennis ball can. “Ohh, my fucking God. Fuck my fucking cunt wide open! God, I need it.” She was a whirling dervish of hair, hips, tongue and pussy. She wrapped her legs around him, and he pushed forward, pinning her back to the door to help support her weight. Heather rode him like a horse. Which was appropriate since his cock felt like a giant horse-cock to her.

This was pure rapture. For Matt and Heather both, and it was getting hard to separate their thoughts at this point. They had become of one mind. Matt could barely articulate his desires at this point.

Squeeze me with your pussy.

With every stroke from this golden god, her vaginal muscles (or “pussy cock squeezer” in Heather’s mush of a mind) tightened on his dick. “Fuck me, baby. Fuck me. Fuck me. Ohhhhh. Fuck me with your huge fucking cock. God, I love your cock. I need it inside me. Give me my cum. Heather wants her fucking cum in her fucking pussy! Give it to me. Give it to me. Give me my fucking cock. Fuck me!”

Every utterance let her cunt flesh surround his shaft and massage it tighter from inside her. She had cum so many times at this point, it was irrelevant. Six, eight, ten times? Who cared. “More cock! Fuck me! Harder. Fuck me. Now! Cum inside me!”

Matt’s penis was lost in the wetness inside her. He had never felt anything like the stroking he was getting from her pussy. Not many men had ever felt anything like that. He was over the cliff, over that point of no return. This was it. He started coming in the middle of a sea of her pussy juices. Among Heather’s shouts, the only sound in the room was the squishing they were making. “Whooaa” was all Matt could say.

Heather had more to say on the subject. “Oh fuck yeahhhh! Cum in me, you fucking stud. Fuck me with that huge muther-fucking cock. Gaawwwddd, keep cumming. Yes, yes, yes! Fuck yes! Ohhh....” And her voice dissolved from world into a high-pitched squeaking noise. His orgasm was perfectly syncopated with her latest and greatest one. She was shattered. A sweaty, bleary-eyed, blissfill, cum-soaked mess.

Matt leaned forward and Heather returned her feet to the ground to regain her balance. He kept his softening member inside her as he pressed his forehead against hers. He didn’t want to leave her pussy just yet. She didn’t want to see his cock go just yet. They sat there for two silent minutes as their brains started to reoccupy their skulls and they regained their composure. There was no noise. Just the occasional soft caress of each other’s arms and the memory of the fucking of a lifetime which felt to both of them like they’d burned out their nervous systems.

Eventually, Matt withdrew and found his pants six feet behind him in the office. Heather was still in a state of shock. She thoughtlessly put her soaked pants back on, then her bra and shirt found their way back on her body.

Heather didn’t know what to say. If she wasn’t so exhausted from her incredible succession of orgasms, she might have run out of that place and never looked back, leaving all of her clothes in embarrassment. But she started to speak. “Listen, I really don’t normally ....”

Matt rushed up to her and placed his index finger on her thick lips. “Shhh. No need for that.” She kissed his finger and replaced his hand at his hip, taking a lingering glance at the bulge that took her to Heaven less than five minutes ago.

“You’re right. That was so weird I don’t know what to say.” Pause. She looked around. “My name’s Heather.”

“I’m Matt.” She started to open the door. He articulated a soft “Thank you.” Heather looked back at Matt half-bewildered and then stiffly walked out to the rest of the laundrymat. She quickly retrieved her still-dry clothes from the washers, tossed them into her baskets and dashed out the door to her car. And as she drove off her confusion was only exceeded by her thirst for the biggest glass of water imaginable.