Stuck in her Head
“Cocks need to cum.” Ugh, there it was again. All throughout the day yesterday, and now this was the third time today. I’d only been up for an hour, and had just started my commute to work. The phrase just kept popping into my head. “Heh” I chuckled to myself at the double entendre of ‘popping’. But the phrase would just float into my head, seemingly unprompted. And then it would bounce around. I kept repeating it, like a bit of a song that I couldn’t shake. And I didn’t even like the phrase! It was too crass. Although I had to admit, it did have a certain ring to it. “Cocks need to cum.”
When was the last time my boyfriend’s cock had cum? Er, when was the last time I’d had sex with Adam. Saturday? And today was Tuesday already. Ugh. No, wait, we usually only have sex two or three times a week, so that was pretty normal, right? Although I’m sure we would both prefer more, we just have trouble being comfortable with it. “Cocks need to cum.” Damnit. This time the phrase was accompanied by an image, me on my knees next to the bed, topless. Adam standing up, his cock squirting cum into my mouth. Mmmmm. I didn’t really like the taste, but the idea of his cock cumming was suddenly really, really hot.
So I decided to roll with it. I imagined our normal routine. Sitting down after dinner, queing up a show. Adam leaning back on the couch, and how surprised he would be when I opened up his pants. I imagined telling him to relax and watch as I pulled out his cock. It would go from soft to straining so fast. It would need to cum. Cocks need to cum. Mmm, I would pump my hand up and down. Cocks need to cum. It wouldn’t take long before it erupted. Before it got the release it needed. Before I made his cock cum. Cocks need to cum.
Aaand then I was at work. Bad choice to get so into the fantasy, now I had to walk into work all crazy aroused. I took a moment to compose myself before going in.
The rest of the day was pretty normal. Kind of. Every once in a while I’d catch myself rolling the words around in my mind. “Cocks need to cum.” At one point while doing something repetitive I caught myself just repeating it over and over. There were only a few times where I zoned out thinking about how exactly I would make my boyfriend’s cock, er, Adam, that is, cum.
The drive home was the worst. I had given up completely trying to resist it, but instead of just letting the words bounce around in my head I needed more. I was imagining my boyfriends cock cumming over and over, in all kinds of different ways. The phrase was just on repeat, looping in my brain. “Cocks need to cum. Cocks need to cum. Cocks need to cum cocks need to cumcocksneedtocum.” And then it slipped out. At least I was alone in the car, so it wasn’t a big deal, but I said it out loud. “Cocks need to cum.” I jumped in surprise at hearing the words from my own mouth. That was probably too much indulging this weird development. So I tried to distract myself with other thoughts, and like trying to shake an earworm, it only half worked. But it did half work, so I kept it up.
I walked into the apartment we shared, and it looked like Adam had only beaten me home by a bit. That was pretty normal, our jobs let out at the same time, and his commute was a few minutes shorter than mine.
He walked into the living room and smiled. “Hi babe, how was your day?” His greeting was completely normal. It felt surreal given how out of control I felt.
“Honestly, it was really strange. I’ve had this phrase running through my head all day. Very distracting.” I tried not to stare at his crotch. His cock was in there. Cocks need to cum. I closed my eyes and shook my head. I knew he was fine, that if he needed to cum he could take care of things. And it wasn’t like cocks really needed to cum. But maybe he had. Maybe he’d stroked himself that morning, his cock spurting cum in the shower...
“A phrase, huh? What was it?” Of course he would hone in on exactly the part I wanted to avoid.
“Nothing important. It’s just a bit embarrassing.” I tried to be casual, but I was no good at it. I knew before even finishing that I’d just made him more interested. And did he notice how my eyes kept drifting to his crotch?
“Distracting and embarrassing? This sounds too good. Come on, you brought it up, what is it?”
“No, come on, it’s not a big deal. How was your day?” I was flat out starting now. I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t think about anything else.
“No changing the subject on me. You might as well get it over with, I’m just going to bug you about it until you tell me.”
“Oh come on. You... uh…” I started stammering an excuse, but lost my train of thought. For the first time since it started happening, the phrase pushed everything else out of my mind. It was all I could think. And before I could clear my head or come up with anything else I yelled “Cocks need to cum!” My eyes went wide as I realized I’d not only said it, but said it loudly and enthusiastically.
There was a moment of silence. I was sure he was shocked by the crudeness of his normally decent girlfriend.
And then he laughed. “Well I’m glad you liked it so much. Here I was afraid you hadn’t brought it up again because you felt weird about it or something.”
I didn’t understand what he was saying “Liked what? Brought up what? What are you talking about? I just… I just...” It was like saying it out loud to him short circuited my brain. He was spouting off nonsense while his cock was in his pants, covered, not cumming.
“Cocks need to cum.” I said it matter of factly, completely focused on his cock. Cocks need to cum, and so I was going to make my boyfriends cock cum. He seemed a bit thrown off, but I was completely focused on his cock. I walked over to him and opened his pants. We were standing right in the middle of the living room, and I dropped to my knees and started blowing him right there. He said something, but it didn’t matter. All that matter was that I finally had a cock in my hand, my mouth, and it needed to cum. It didn’t take too long. Once he finally erupted the fog lifted and it was like hearing the end of the song. The phrase finally left my head, and I could think about other things. Like the mouthful of cum I had, and how hot I was right now. How bad I needed to cum myself. And how odd his reaction to me yelling “Cocks need to cum!” was. That last part could wait. I swallowed the cum, and that made me even more hot. I wasn’t too concerned with why. Not when I needed to drag him to the bedroom and convince him to get out the vibrator and make me cum now.
It didn’t take much to convince him. I grabbed his arm and practically dragged him back to the bedroom, and all I had to say was “I’m sooo hot.” He went straight for the vibrator while I tore out of my clothes as fast as I could. When I finally jumped on the bed naked he was ready and put the toy straight on my clit. It was already on high, and I came after less than a minute. But he didn’t let up, and I was cumming again. I started clumsily reaching for his cock, and when I found it I started pumping fast and hard. After a moment he was hard again, he dropped the toy and climbed up on me and fucked me.
It was the best sex I’d ever had. As we lay next to each other panting and recovering I thought back, and started to realize how odd the entire thing had been.
And now that my mind was no longer overwhelmed with a need to make cocks cum or with my own horniness, I could finally ask “So you seemed like you recognized that phrase. What’s going on there? I don’t remember hearing it anywhere.”
“What?” He seemed legitimately confused. “What about Saturday?”
“What about it? It was a pretty low key day. We had great sex, not quite as great as this, (we’re on a roll, eh?) But… no, I can’t think of anything particular about Saturday.”
He still looked confused, and now a little concerned. He asked “So what do you remember about Saturday evening? Like, what did we talk about, what specifically did we do?”
That seemed like a weird question. And now I was a bit concerned, because I was having trouble coming up with an answer. “I… it was just… a normal Saturday? I remember we talked. What did we talk about…” I was more talking to myself than him now. “We had sex. It was really good. It was really good.” The more I thought about it the more I remember the sex being great. But what about it was great. I remembered lying in bed afterward, feeling amazing. But what did we do exactly? Eh, it didn’t matter. “I remember a really good night, having sex, and feeling amazing. That’s all I’ve got.”
He gave me a look that told me he was now in moving into puzzle solving mode. Something about this must seem weird to him. He cautiously said “So you don’t remember me telling you that I was a hypnotist back in college?”
Huh, I did remember that. “I do remember that. I, uh, was that what we talked about Saturday? I… wait.” I loved hypnotism. I had gotten super excited. The memories of Saturday were trickling back, each one prompting another. “Wait, I told you to try it on me. You did! It was super relaxing, and then it got sexy! How could I forget that, it was amazing!” I was getting really excited by the memory, but then I realized something.
“Wait, how could I forget that? You didn’t do something to make me forget, did you? Have we had this conversation before? Are you messing with my brain?”
He looked a little panicked by the accusation and said “No no no of course not! I didn’t wouldn’t I couldn’t anyway.” He kept stammering for a bit. I still wasn’t totally convinced, but I waited for him to explain. He took a breath to compose himself. “Okay, so I’m not sure why you wouldn’t remember that, and I’m really not sure why you would have recalled that trigger phrase like that.”
I narrowed my eyes at him and said “I don’t remember anything about a trigger phrase.”
“Oh come on, we…” he was flustered. Good, served him right. “...alright, so let’s think through this. Once you were in a trance I gave you that trigger phrase,” I glared at him. “hold on, BUT I told you it would only work that night! And then...” He trailed off, then paused in thought. “Okay, I think I have it. When I brought you out of the trance I told you to only remember what you wanted to. It’s a phrase I always used, but I’ve never really had anyone block out the entire experience before. But I think it could make sense. It never occured to me as possible, but you may have decided you didn’t want to remember anything about the entire experience. But I don’t know why you would do that?”
It took a while, and I didn’t buy it easily, but eventually we were pretty sure we understood how things went. The main thing is, I really liked the idea of him manipulating me, despite my reluctance to admit it. When I accused him of messing with my brain I wanted it to be true, not just so I could be justifiably mad, but because I really, really liked the idea that he could. I wanted him to be able to make me feel and act like I had today. And I didn’t want to be able to stop him. We all have our kinks and our hangups, and it turns out mine were basically the same. I loved the idea of him controlling and manipulating me, but I also hated that I loved it. So when he put me under my subconscious mind had the power to both give him control over me and block my memory of it. I took the carefully worded suggestions he gave me and used them the way I wanted them to work. Which apparently meant I wanted him to make me desperate, horny, and obsessed with his cock. And now that we were talking it through, I had to admit it, to him and to myself.
On the bright side, now that we knew better what I wanted, it turns out he kind of could do those things. Just not the way I’d thought of it. When he had me in a trance and made suggestions, I had taken them and used them in ways closer to what I really wanted. But since I wasn’t consciously thinking about it it didn’t work out exactly the way I would have hoped. But now he could put me into a trance and give me suggestions that I’d want to follow, guide my mind to do what he, and I, wanted to me.
By the time we were done talking I felt like we’d discovered sex super powers, I was practically jumping up and down with excitement. So of course he had to rain on my parade. Said we needed to go slow to make sure it was safe, make sure that there weren’t any unintended consequences. I fought him on it, but I knew he was right. So for the next week every other day he would put me in a light trance and talk me back out of it. We’d practice boring suggestions and talk about what worked the way we expected and what didn’t. It felt like it dragged on forever. It was about eight days before...