The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Patty Lopez had only been at the party for 45 minutes and already she wanted to go home. Howard was no perfect date, not since high school had she seen such juvenile, inconsiderate behavior. He talked more to his friends than to her, and when he did address her he kept it to monosyllabic utterances like—more beer?— or—havin fun?—.

The beer was good, very good, Howard’s dad held an executive position at Mauller Brewing Company which explained both the quality draft brew and the spacious house in which Howard, his dad, and grandfather lived.

“Where’s the bathroom?” Patty shouted over the Dave Mathews CD, she decided she would just slip out after relieving herself. This guy obviously doesn’t deserve even a goodbye she thought to herself.

“The main bathroom’s right over there,” he yelled, pointing to the other side of the room, “it’s sporting a killer line but don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

A pained look came across her face as she saw at least 12 men and women waiting their turn, not only would she have to endure the party for another 20 minutes, but she was going to have to do it with Howard the Horrible at her side.

After a minute of waiting, Howard surprised her with his first considerate gesture of the evening.

“Say, if you want you could use my grandpa’s private bathroom on the second floor.”

Three people waiting in line turned and looked at Howard hoping he was talking to them. He gave them a scowl and stood between them and his well-proportioned date.

“That would be great,” she said, her face brightening a bit, “but what about your grandfather, I don’t want to bother him, I mean it’s already 11 o’clock. Won’t he be asleep?”

“Don’t worry about it, he never goes to bed if there’s a baseball game on the satellite, he’s probably watching a feed from the west coast.” Howard smiled and showed her the way and then told her to find him downstairs once she finished.

“See you in 5 minutes or so,” Howard said as he went back down the stairs, “unless of course grandpa gets to talking about his days in Peoria. Then who knows when I’ll see you.”

Patty knocked on the door, which was quickly opened by a man in his middle 60s.

“Harold L. Jobow at your service,” he said with a smile as he extended his hand to shake hers.

“Howard said I might be able to use your bathroom?” she replied quizzically.

“Go right ahead my dear,” he said motioning towards the door on the other side of the room. “Just give me one second to make sure everything is suitable for such a fine young lady.”

With that he slipped into the bathroom and closed the door.

She looked around the well planned interior of the room to find a few copies of Popular Mecanics on a table and the TV tuned to an Oakland / Seattle match up. Just the idea of baseball and mecanics magazines in this bemmoth of a house made her feel more comfortable.

Less than a minute later he was out, apologizing for the delay and telling her to take her time.

Patty unsnapped her jeans and sat down to finally relieve herself. Noting the little aesthetic touches that set the entire house apart from the kind of place her parents had when she was growing up she was beset by the irony of her date’s situation. “How can Howard, surrounded by such beauty turn out so crass and classless?” she thought to herself. She finished and ripped off a length of toilet paper from what looked to be a new roll, absentmindedly she dabbed her vaginal area dry. She was about to stand up when she felt like maybe she should go over the area again with a little more toilet paper. As she did, Patty felt a twinge of arousal begin to build, causing her to bite her lower lip and shudder involuntarily.

“Maybe if I go over it one more time that will take care of it,” she thought aloud, not really knowing what IT was that she wanted taken care of.

This time not only did the feeling repeat itself but the twinge became a tingle, which strengthened as she made pass after pass with the colorful TP. Her vaginal lips swelled and became hypersensitive to the sensations the bathroom tissue was causing inside her. As one hand continued to stroke the area, the other started to pinch and pull at her own nipples, something she had never done before. Her mind was filled with images each one more erotic and daring than the last. She needed a face, a voice, touch, anyone besides herself, someone to make her toes curl up and her hips buck towards the release her body screamed for.

“You ok in there young lady?” he asked causally. It had been four or five minutes, which he guessed should have been enough time for the topical drug to be absorbed through the tender folds of the vagina. Harold felt his own member spring to life as the prospect of hot sex with his grandson’s date started to look possible. Had it not been for the Hvarpike laced TP he would never have had a family, as his wife believed that sex was dirty and wrong even between married couples. Hvarmenal was given to him by a Norwegian stowaway on the USS Kasota, a small decrepit cargo ship used during WWII in the North Sea.

“Why don’t you come out here Patty,” he suggested.

It wasn’t until she had opened the door that she noticed she had not taken the time to pull her pants up, and in fact was still rubbing her crotch with what was left of the TP. The instant she saw him, all the images of sex and sodomy flashing through her mind became fantasies about him.

“Seems you could use some help,” he said to her, gently tracing a finger down her tan body, gently replacing her hand with his fingers, which made lazy circles around her clitoris. Her knees went weak and Harold supported her as he guided her responsive flesh to his bed. The smell of her hunger permeated the room, promising eagerness never before expressed in her life.

Patty’s entire consciousness focused on her need to find release. This old man, this wonderful, sexy older man was causing the most intense sensations in her body. Waves of heat spread through her as she mewed quietly.

Harold unbuttoned her blouse and unsnapped her bra, giving his lips full range of her chest as he lay on top of her. He could feel his member coming out of retirement, growing strong, straining against his pants. Patty’s hands found his belt and deftly unfastened it; soon his pants were down, his warm rod sticking out of the opening in his boxer shorts. Tremors shot through Patty’s body as the shape and heat of Harold’s penis pressed into her stomach like a brand. She shimmied up higher on the bed to align her waiting vagina with his piercing rod.

Harold’s eyes turned upwards inside his eyelids as the head of his penis slipped passed her swollen outer lips, forget warm apple pie, this was more like one of those hot cherry pies from McDonalld’s, scalding and tight. He started to tease her, only going in as far as his head, then pulling out and rubbing circles around the outer perimeter, teasing her asshole, and then slipping back in only an inch or so. Patty pulled on him with all her might, trying to holster his bulging phallus completely, needing to feel him fill her, to give herself bodily to this baseball watching grandfather hunk of a man.

Without warning Harold grabbed her shoulders and plunged his entire length into her, she moaned nonsense words and phrases. Her fingers dug into his ass, as they ground into each other. A few seconds was all Harold could last on top, he had not done this for years and therefore anticipated his limitations. In one motion he rolled them over so that she was on top, Patty immediately responded by sitting up and bringing her knees up underneath herself.

Harold watched through half closed eyes as she started moving, her belly and groin alternated in a wave like motion. She raised his hands up and placed them on her firm breasts and then reached one of her hands behind herself and strummed her fingers lightly over his balls.

Harold began moaning, “I’m going to cum!” he grunted. She mewed and picked up her pace. Harold spewed his aged sperm into her waiting womb. Both cried out at once and collapsed in a tangle of fatigue and tactile bliss.

Invigorated, Harold awoke to find Patty sleeping too soundly to stir her recovering body from its respite. He would steal away to the kitchen for some food. Walleye on a stick, or perhaps bratwurst and a cold 40-ounce Mauller, he felt 50 years old, no 45. Life was good and Harold wanted a side dish of Buffalo wings and a blowjob for dessert.