The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Daniel woke with a raging hard on, desperate for a pee. Without giving a moment’s thought to where he was, he pulled the duvet off and blinked his eyes open. As he got his bearings he gathered, from the daylight seeping around the curtains, that it was morning. He was contemplating drifting back into sleep when it came to him, with sudden force, just where he was and, moreover, who he was with. Indeed there was Simmone looking at him—looking at him and his exposed cock in the half dark of the hotel bedroom.

“Still having trouble, I see,” she said dryly.

“Different reason,” he said as he popped out of bed, penis bobbing under his tee shirt. It hardly seemed necessary to cover himself - given last night. Last night—what an event, what a success! He relieved himself and had a quick shower. Simmone hadn’t moved when he came back into the room.

“Tea or coffee, Simmone?” he said as he put the kettle on.

“Tea please, Daniel. What time do we need to get to the conference?”

He smiled wondering what other habits he should adjust. He glanced at his watch, “We’ll have to skip breakfast providing...” He went to the window and pulled the curtains back letting the light pour in, not worrying too much that he had nothing on underneath his tee shirt. He wasn’t trying to encourage modesty between them—quite the opposite. “...Providing we can get away which, looking at the snow and the lack of any movement on the road, is doubtful. I think we can have breakfast after all.” He made the tea.

“I rarely have much for breakfast,” said Simmone as Daniel sat back on his side of the bed, “sometimes all I have is...” She giggled, “Really Daniel I don’t know what it is about you that encourages me to say these things, I wouldn’t even say it to Ally. Sometimes all I have is... No, I can’t say it.”

Daniel looked puzzled. He sipped his hot tea, “Cup of tea, round of toast, glass of orange juice, biscuit?”

“No, Daniel, sometimes...” and her eyes fell to Daniel’s lap where his currently soft penis half poked out from under his tee shirt.

All of a sudden he got her meaning. She blushed. His penis twitched and began to lengthen.

“Sometimes I... I suck Wilf off in the morning. He wakes hard like you did and I just like... you know... I like holding him in my mouth and drinking him—his cum.”

Daniel couldn’t help it, his penis just rose and rose, sticking up in the air as he sat there listening to Simmone and drinking his tea.

“Sorry, Simmone,” he said, “couldn’t help that. Strong image you know!” He shrugged his shoulders apologetically but that was not what he was really thinking. He was hoping this might lead somewhere.

“No, Daniel, my fault for mentioning it.” She sipped her tea. " I suppose it would have a different effect on you than Ally. I’ll have to watch what I say.”

“No, no not at all—I like you confiding in me, talking freely.” He pulled the covers up over him, “there, problem solved or at least hidden away.”

They laughed.

“Well I’m certainly going to have breakfast whether you join me or not. Wouldn’t you like something?”

Simmone agreed to join Daniel at the restaurant and they chatted away as they finished their tea.

“Right,” said Daniel getting out of bed. He had been careful, though really it was not difficult with Simmone sitting beside him in a thin cotton nightie, to keep his mind very much on sex so that when he stood up his penis was still hard. “I’ll go and get...”

“You’re still hard, my fault” said Simmone, “I shouldn’t have said... it’s just I find it so easy to talk to you I say more than perhaps I should... but you don’t mind do you? Shall I deal with it again?”

Daniel put on a resigned look, “If you don’t mind Simmone...” He sat back on the bed delighted.

“Lie down then.” She pulled his tee shirt up but instead of lying back in the bed, as the night before, she got up on her knees and bent over him.

“Oh she’s not really going to?” He thought. But she was. Daniel caught a glimpse through her tee shirt neck of little breasts hanging, before the view was obscured by the top of Simmone’s head and he felt her breath on the very end of his cock. There was a moment of glorious anticipation and then her lips touched. The first feel of a wet mouth on his cock was quite fantastic for Daniel, made the better because it was unusually warm due to the hot tea. It was not just the sense, the feeling that was wonderful but the knowledge that at last, incredibly, his cock was in gorgeous Simmone’s mouth!

Her mouth, so smooth and wet, just caressed the end of his cock with a gentle to and fro motion going no further than the end of the head. Daniel’s breathing deepened as he lay back on the pillows with his eyes closed. Then he felt just the flutter of Simmone’s tongue across the tip before she slid it down over his frenum to massage that most sensitive spot. The tongue slid back to the tip and seemed as if it was trying to burrow into the little slit. Daniel sighed.

“Is that OK?” asked Simmone, her mouth leaving his penis for a moment.

“You’ve done this before!”

“Just a bit.”

Ever so slowly Simmone’s lips slid down his cock, they passed the head and kept on going. Daniel’s eyes opened but her hair obscured the view. How far was she taking it? He felt the back of her throat on his penis head and then she was sliding back up again. She kept at the rhythmic sliding up and down his penis. Daniel lay there enjoying the sensation. He was so pleased for the snow!

Simmone’s tongue lapped again, tickling the little hole and all around the sensitive head. Rather quicker than he wanted Daniel felt himself slipping over the point of no return, the tensing of the scrotum, the attempt to hold back and then the release, the outpouring of his semen into Simmone’s mouth. In his mind he saw the ejaculation, the pulse from his penis, the white sticky stream around Simmone’s tongue as she swirled it around her mouth and around the shiny bell end of his cock. Simmone was good to him, the lapping did not stop, the tongue did not cease to play as he came, jet after jet. Nor did she pull her head away straightaway but kept gently suckling his cock as it softened.

Daniel opened his eyes and looked at the golden hair still lying across his chest and smiled happily to himself. At last he was enjoying sexual satisfaction with Simmone. He had not seen her naked, much less touched her or had intercourse. But there was time enough; this would now come, he was sure.

The head rose and Simmone turned, smiling, to him. A very deliberate tongue tip moved from left to right across her top lip. “I could have a second breakfast now,” she said.

The weather was not good and there was no chance of moving forward to the conference or back home. They were stuck for a second night and moreover had a whole day to kill. They could have read the papers, only there was no delivery, so they watched the television news and morning television. That soon palled so they looked at the movies offered (at extra charge). One film killed time until lunch.

Whilst things were going rather well, actually very well indeed, Daniel thought a bit of reinforcement would not hurt and so, early afternoon found his clock sitting winking on top of the television. He left Simmone watching the TV whilst he was in the bathroom and, coming out, found her staring blankly at the flashing light. Daniel was certainly impressed with its efficacy.

“Simmone you trust me, I am kind to you and you are good to me, you find me increasingly attractive sexually and you do, you know, have a healthy need for sex. You just feel in need of sexual release when we are alone.” He repeated his instructions. It was not that the handwork and oral sex was not good but Daniel wanted to see, touch and, of course, penetrate. He was not going to push matters—far better if it came from Simmone, albeit an influenced Simmone.

Later that afternoon Daniel was reading a magazine but Simmone did not seem to be able to settle at anything. She was quite restless and, as Daniel noticed, flushed. He had asked her if she was ‘all right?’ Whether she was well and she had a little snapped her answer. She had said she was going to have a bath and Daniel had read on as the water ran and Simmone had what seemed to be a very long soak. When she came out she was wrapped in a bath towel. She sat on the bed and looked at Daniel.

“Nice bath, feeling better?” He said looking at her.

She shrugged her shoulders. From her face it looked as if she was trying to make her mind up about something, as if she was wrestling with a problem. She drew in her breath—it looked like a decision had been reached.

“Daniel,” she said, “you know how you felt and what I did to you - for you—last night?”

He nodded.

“I... I’ve been trying to... I’m missing Wilf. I’ve been trying to sort myself out in the bath but... but I think I need another’s hands and fingers. I don’t want to fuck, no that would not be fair on Wilf but... but Daniel would you be kind and stroke me, rub me, make me come please?”

Daniel wished he could have seen Simmone playing with herself in the bath, her hand buried between her long legs. That would have been really good but what he was being offered was hardly a second best. He was being offered the chance—no, opportunity—not just to take a quick surreptitious glance at her body but to do much more, to intimately examine and feel her—everywhere. And she was offering, moreover asking him to do this!

“Of course,” he said, “delighted to help you, Simmone, anytime with anything. What are friends for?”

He stood and went over to her and lightly touched the white towel, “shall I take this off?” He said.

She seemed to become nervous and stood. “Not yet.”

Standing next to her, she did rather tower over him. His eyes were more on the level of her chest than head. They were an oddly matched couple and not a few in the restaurant had thought and whispered that to each other, thinking they were an item. Because of their respective sexes there was an incongruity in their appearance. Had it been the opposite no one would have batted an eyelid. Plenty of very tall men go out with short women but not the other way around—as a rule.

“Just touch me a little to begin with.”

The towelling was thick and deadening to the touch. Daniel could feel little through it. His hands stroked her sides, her tummy, her back. She seemed happy with this and when he squeezed a breast through the material she sighed and sat down again. Daniel sat next to her on the bed and put his hand on her knee.

“You OK, you want me to carry on?”

She turned to him and nodded, “please Daniel I do desperately need to come. I am so... so wet. There I’ve said it! As you’ll find out.” She gave a little smile. “You don’t mind do you?”

“Of course not, Simmone. I’d be odd if I did! And what are friends for?”

He rubbed her knee and slid his hand down her leg. In a moment or two he knew he could, and would, slide it up her thigh into the concealing towelling. But there was no hurry and he had always admired all of her legs. A few months, weeks, days ago he would have been happy to have stroked or even just touched her knee. The opportunity now was so very much greater but he still liked her knees. His fingers caressed and moulded her patellas, just running round them and then his fingers began sliding upwards. Simmone’s knees, within the constriction of the towelling, opened. Daniel swallowed and his fingers moved further. The skin of Simmone’s thigh was so soft and so exciting. He was as hard as ever. His fingertips moved up the skin of her inner thighs, caressing but being careful not to simply tickle.

Daniel had not yet touched her—there—but a sidelong glance at Simmone’s face showed he was having a considerable effect, she was staring with concentration at the wall, her teeth holding one side of her bottom lip and her breathing was faster. His fingers slid a little higher and he felt wetness on her thigh. Daniel had never touched a woman’s sex but knew her natural lubrication could, when she was very excited, literally run out of her. He had thought before of watching a rivulet running down Simmone’s thigh, on and on down its length. But in his imagination he had always been kneeling, looking up at her, not sitting beside her. His fingertips felt hair, little short curly hairs, he glanced again at Simmone and his fingers probed a little higher to touch a softer flesh, flesh oily with lubrication. Simmone’s mouth opened and her eyes went wider. Daniel moved his fingers, exploring, discovering, going boldly where he had never been before. His questing finger circled, seeking her entrance, he pushed and his finger kept going.

Daniel smiled to himself. He had his finger, no two, no three immersed in beautiful Simmone—his dream come true—he rotated them slightly and then began an in and out motion, a fucking motion. He was fucking Simmone with his fingers! There was now a further thing to discover. The mysterious thing, rather formally called the clitoris. It was funny there did not seem, at least he was not aware of it, a slang name for the clitoris—if you excepted the abbreviation. Mysterious because it was small and, he understood, not always easy to find. He moved his thumb seeking a little hard protrusion forward of where he had penetrated. His thumb moved slowly and, then, there it was not tiny at all, but hard and prominent. He knew immediately he had found Simmone’s clit, it was not just the feel and deduction but the moan and flopping back on the bed by Simmone that gave it away. Her legs splayed widely and the towel rode further up her thighs. Not that Daniel could yet see anything. He looked down on Simmone, her eyes closed and arms up above her head in abandon. He desperately wanted to pull off his clothes, pull up the towel over her tummy and fuck her but he knew the time had not yet come—that would have to be by invitation. Instead he recalled his thoughts in bed on many a night of kneeling below a standing Simmone and running his tongue up and up her thigh until his face disappeared into her wetness. She was not standing but he could certainly kneel and lick in just the same way.

She hadn’t meant him to use his mouth but Daniel’s head was between her thighs before she knew what he was doing, and the feel of his wet tongue just above her knee was... he was so good to her, it was so nice having a friend you could trust to help you with anything. She bit her lip; Daniel’s tongue was sliding upwards. She did so like to be pleasured orally. Wilf did not do that as often as she would have liked.

Daniel’s head was inside the towelling now, it was a little restricting but exciting too to be enclosed inside it; his tongue was tasting her wetness on her thigh; he felt Simmone lift herself a little off the bed to allow him easier access and then his tongue touched, touched wetness and hot softness. He lapped and then stuck his tongue out and into Simmone, swirling it round. She wriggled. His hand slipped into his trousers as he stroked himself. Gently he pulled his tongue out of her vagina and forwards until it rode up her clit. Her hips were bucking now and he sucked the item into his mouth, holding it between his lips as he, ever so gently, tickled it with his tongue. It was not easy holding on given the amount of movement Simmone was making but then there was no option as her thighs clamped around his head, blocking out any sound reaching his ears. Daniel just kept at work with his tongue, guessing she was orgasming but unable to see or hear anything. He was reduced to the senses of taste, touch and smell and was blissfully happy with that.

The thighs relaxed around Daniel’s head. Letting go with his lips he just stayed there for a minute or more revelling in where he was and what he had been doing. He kissed her there on her wet sex before withdrawing his head and settling back on his thighs to look at Simmone. The towel was still just around her and she was looking at him with a wan smile.

“You’ve come?” He asked.

“Oh yes. Rather well.”

He glanced down, the rucked up towelling did little to hide Simmone’s sex or the curly fair hairs. He had wondered whether she shaved. His eyes took in the deep pinkness of her rather round sex, the quite small lips and the still prominent clit. Her entrance was obvious, not widely open but a hint of shadow and mystery. Daniel desperately wanted to plumb it with his cock, fill it with his own outpouring but he knew this was not yet the time. He must have stared for quite a time because Simmone, making no attempt to cover herself said,

“And that is what little girls are made of!”

“Sorry, I was just admiring.” His hand reached out and stroked where the top of her thighs were wet from her overflowing. “Very pretty. You have such beautiful legs and... and the rest.”

Simmone giggled. “You can’t fuck it if that is what you are thinking. That’s for Wilf. I can see you are stretching your trousers. What shall I do? Hand or mouth? You can come over my tits if you like.” She raised her back, undid the towel and spread it out on either side of her revealing all of her long body.

Daniel gazed in delight at her long, long legs and then let his eyes roam upwards to her splayed sex, the golden vee of her curls with the little pink slit almost hidden, across the flatness of her tummy with the little dimple of her tummy button to the whiteness of her dear little breasts with their light coffee nipples, standing erect, to her amused face. He dropped his clothes to the floor and got up on the bed, his rigid penis swaying before him. Simmone’s thighs closed, giving a very clear message. Daniel straddled her tummy and knelt, legs apart, cock pointing up in the air towards her breasts as he looked down at Simmone.

She smiled back at him and brought one of her hands up to tickle his scrotum. It was hanging free, she swung it, he could feel his balls banging against his thighs.

“Quite the bull, aren’t we? Well you can’t have the heifer today! And you certainly can’t call me a cow—not with what I’m going to do to you now!”

Daniel did not think, given his current position, there could be any objection to him fondling Simmone’s breasts. As yet he had only touched them through the towelling, even though he had brought her to orgasm he had not stroked her little breasts. Lying down, as she was, they looked particularly small—not that Daniel minded. He cupped one in his hand, feeling its smoothness, its warmth and the bud of her nipple in the middle of his palm.

Simmone’s fingers closed around the end of his penis and began to stroke.

Daniel felt so in control, astride, almost sitting on Simmone now with both little breasts in his hands. He tweaked the nipples between his fingers. They were still hard from her earlier excitement and she wriggled a little as he squeezed. She smiled up at him as her fingers continued to work his cock. It all made him want to kiss her, kiss her on the mouth. Kiss properly—French Kiss—but would she object? Was that reserved for Wilf, signifying love rather than simple animal sex? He watched her face and those lips he so wanted to kiss. Rather than kissing he lent forward so his cock was brought close to her face, the shiny head was almost touching her mouth. As he had hoped her tongue peeked out from between her lips and licked. He pushed forward and his penis head bumped against her lips seeking entrance. It was granted. Daniel certainly was in control, kneeling over Simmone, his hands manipulating her breasts, his penis being worked by her and, at his own pace, pushing his cock in and out of Simmone’s mouth.

The pleasure of releasing himself in the air above Simmone was unexpected. He had thought to come in her mouth, using it as a substitute vagina with his own movement causing the climax but he had remembered the invitation to come over her breasts and decided not to decline the offer. Coming above Simmone proved a different experience, a feeling both of power and freedom. With his knees apart, balls hanging free—or would have been had it not been for Simmone’s arresting, fondling hand—penis poking forward above her breasts, held between the ‘O’ of a thumb and forefinger, he let himself go. Rather than shutting his eyes he watched the first spurt shoot from his cock, fly through the air too far and fall onto Simmone’s naked chin almost, it seemed to him in slow motion. The subsequent spurts had a shorter range and fell, as intended, across her chest. Simmone’s busy fingers slowed and with a final squeeze released him.

Daniel’s knees splayed a little more and he came to rest on Simmone’s chest, his balls and softening penis lying across one breast, he moved fractionally so the still oozing end of his cock rested on her light brown nipple coating it in his ejaculate. An image to treasure—but he did not dare use his mobile phone camera - no, certainly not!

With one hand Simmone idly played with the pool of semen between her breasts, stirring it round with her finger. She popped it in her mouth and giggled.

“Was that OK? Thought so.”

Dinner that evening was very pleasant. It was not just the sex that pleased Daniel but that Simmone so evidently now enjoyed Daniel’s company. He was thinking that, following the earlier success, there was a hope of actually having intercourse with Simmone. Daniel had already come twice but had no doubts he could manage a third attempt that day.

Simmone came out of the bathroom naked, the earlier sex and her evident feeling of ease and trust in Daniel had extended to her body. Naked already Daniel moved to hug her, pulling her to him so that her breasts were crushed against his face.

“What again!” she said. “Well, remember, no trying to get inside me—no fucking.”

Daniel could not possibly have done so in their present position, despite being fully erect the tip of his penis did not reach anywhere near as high as her sex. Even standing on tiptoe he could not so much as have lodged himself at her entrance.

“You can go down the bed, I like being sucked and Wilf doesn’t do that half enough.”

Another confidence, noted Daniel. What else did Wilf get wrong?

“Doesn’t he please you enough?” It was a risky subject to engage in. Simmone might go all maudlin on Daniel, and weep because she was missing her tiresome boyfriend.

“Oh yes. He fucks really hard, tries his best to please me, tight bottom, hard tummy, nice big penis...”

Daniel wondered if there was an implication there that his own, respectably sized, organ was not up to Wilf’s standard?

“But yes he doesn’t go down on me as often as I like and perhaps he comes too soon or, anyway, before I have. That’s probably men for you!”

“You need back-up, a reserve, a substitute,” said Daniel with a smile.

“Oh yes, thanks Wilf that didn’t quite do the trick, I’ll just call my substitute out of the wardrobe. I suppose you see yourself in that role,” she broke into a laugh.

Daniel joined in her laughter, “anything to help—now what are friends for?”

“Well you can substitute now. I want you down that bed and I expect to be licked from my little toes all the way up to my... well I’m sure you know where and what that is!” She hopped into bed and pulled the sheet up. “And after that you can give me my bedtime drink... do I need to tell you what that should be?”

Daniel was disappointed not to have succeeded with intercourse but he was patient. He was going to get there, his machine would secure that, and the pleasures of oral sex were hardly a mere a consolation prize. His third ejaculation of the day, and second into Simmone’s sweet mouth, was exquisite.