The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

The thought of the kids in the Baptist van watching Terri masturbate kept running through my mind all the next week. About the only time I wasn’t thinking about it was when I was thinking of her legs spread wide for Carter the lizard.

I was on to something here. Something great.

I didn’t hypnotize her again until Thursday evening. She fixed dinner early because, she said, she wanted to have time to soak in the tub and then go shopping for clothes, using her parents’ gift certificate. She didn’t bother to ask if I wanted to come with her. Silly question, right?

But when I walked in on her to take a leak, she looked so damn beautiful all naked in the tub. And she was eying my prick the whole time I pissed. Yeah. I wanted to show her off again.

So I volunteered to go with her—and, before she had a chance to get over the shock of me going shopping with her, I offered to wash her back, and even play some nice music for her. Except that you know what was in the tape recorder I brought into the bathroom, right?

Right. I hypnotized her.

While she was lying there in the tub with her eyes closed, dead to the world, I ran my hands all over her tits, tweaking her nipples hard. Then, when her chest started to heave so her nips rose out of the water on each in-breath, only to sink below the waves on the out-breaths, I ran my hand down to her crotch. I rubbed her pussy—side to side, the way I’d seen her do it in the car. It made her so hot so quick that I decided to use this new technique in the future.

I stopped jacking her off before she had an orgasm, leaving her panting and eager. Then I gave her her commands for the evening. Basically, she was to obey whatever command I gave—as long as I ended with the words, “Do it!” she’d be compelled to be my slave. And this time, she’d be wide awake and aware of everything I made her do.

After that I rubbed her pussy again, still not letting her cum. Still keeping her hypnotized and asleep, I told her to get out of the tub. “Do it!” I commanded.

Like a puppet, Terri obeyed me. She didn’t do it in her usual ladylike way, either, but splashed out unceremoniously, sending water cascading every which way. Even over me.

As I dried my neck and arm, I said, “Turn around to face the wall, then bend way over from the waist. Do it!”

She did. This was going to be fun!

As I knelt down to dry her legs, I ran my nose through her pubic hair. Without my even commanding her, Terri leaned back against the wall and moved her feet apart so I could tongue her pussy. For the hell of it, I did it lightly, Carter-style. She seemed to appreciate it, too; but again, I didn’t let her cum. Almost, but not quite.

I added a few more post-hypnotic commands, programming her to want to show off while she was looking for clothes. You know, try on sexier dresses than usual, maybe leave the dressing room door ajar. Lastly, I’d told her to go braless, which she rarely did even though her tits are great. She’d never do that ordinarily, not when she was going to be taking off her clothes in a changing room.

For good measure, I ran my tongue over her clit a few more times. Then and only then did I wake her up from the hypnotism. She was to remain conscious throughout the evening, and, for a change (so to speak) remember everything.

This was one shopping trip I was planning to enjoy.

Best laid plans and all that shit. There was Terri, tits bouncing underneath a thin silk dress—and nobody to appreciate them!

The shop, a pricey little boutique off by itself in a quiet strip mall, was nearly empty when we got there. Oh, there were a couple of customers, but they were all women. The only guy there was the sales clerk. He was maybe thirty-five years old, and he looked to be a couple testicles short of a full set, if you know what I mean. The type of guy who’d work in a women’s clothing store.

Terri loved the clothes, ohhing and ahhing about how they were so much prettier than what she usually bought—until she looked at the price tags. Sure, the clothes were expensive, but what the hell? Still, even with a gift certificate, Terri still couldn’t just ignore the cost. Kinda sad in a way. Made me want to have more money for her to buy the things she wanted. And deserved.

She picked out several dresses from a sale rack while I shuffled through full-price items of a decidedly more risque variety. A couple in particular caught my eye. There was a short (and I mean short) denim dress with a stiff skirt that flared out. Perfect for showing off her ass, especially after she bought some thongs to replace her plain white panties. The top would show plenty of cleavage, too.

The other I chose for her was a slinky pink silk job that would barely cover her ass and had a neckline that would show off the tops of her boobs. It also was backless, meaning she couldn’t very well wear a bra under it. The pink dress wasn’t quite a hooker’s outfit—it was way too expensive for that—but it was ‘fuck me, fuck me!’ attire.

“Here,” I told her, “try these on, too.”

Terri looked at me as though I’d lost my mind. She even glanced around to see if the other customers, a fat, middle-aged woman and her 11 or 12-year-old daughter, had caught her even glancing at such a scandalous outfit.

“Try it on,” I repeated. “Do it!” For a moment there, I wondered if the hypnotism hadn’t taken, or if there was something else I’d need to do to plant an effective post-hypnotic suggestion. “You’ll look good enough to eat in this.” And just in case she missed my point, I stared down at her crotch. “Do it!”

Her eyes opened in surprise, and for a moment I thought for sure she was going to remember and rebel. But I guess she was surprised at her own reaction to my words, for she quickly took the dress from me. “Well... okay.” She looked at the price tag and rolled her eyes. “But there’s no way I’m buying it, so put your eyeballs back in their sockets. This thing costs my whole gift certificate.”

“Always with the price tags.” I shook my head. “Just try it on—and let me see you in it. Do it, Terri.”

Again she rolled her eyes. But she took my two dresses with her to the changing rooms.

If this were K-Mart, the changing rooms would be hidden away from everyone. Here in an expensive place, though, the rooms faced the store itself, with only little curtains that showed her from the knees down. I guess the prices were supposed to drive away the perverts.

I followed Terri toward the changing room, thinking to go inside with her—that sure would get the customers’ and the clerk’s attention. But instead I stayed just outside, because I noticed that the mother and daughter were in the changing cubicle next to Terri. Their curtain wasn’t quite closed; I could see maybe a quarter of the booth.

I glanced in. The daughter was topless, wearing just jeans. All I could see was her arm and back, but it was still nice. Then the kid turned around and I saw her breasts—or at least what there were of them. Itsy-bitsy twelve-year-old titties, barely more than tiny cones but with nice little nipples that would look scrumptious when they were hard.

Then her little-girl tits were covered as her mother put on a featureless white bra from behind her. A training bra, maybe, or perhaps her first real bra.

Terri popped out just then, wearing one of the dresses that she’d picked out. She looked at herself and asked me how she looked. Then she went back into her changing booth.

The little kid’s tits were bare again. As I stared at them, she happened to glance my way. Right into my eyes. Her nipples started to grow hard.

Shit. All she had to do was complain to her mother, and my plans were ruined. I looked around for the sales clerk, who was putting clothes back on the racks.

No screaming from the little girl. That was a hopeful sign, right?

Terri came out again. My responses were pretty distracted, I guess.

When Terri went back into her changing room, I dared to look back into the girl’s booth. She was looking at me without any expression at all on her face. Her mother was fussing with the bra straps at the girl’s shoulder. Then the girl took off the bra and continued to stare at me, tits bare, while her mother muttered something I couldn’t catch. The kid’s nipples were pebbley hard, yet their small size made her seem if anything even younger. She scratched absently at her boob, running her fingernails lightly across her right nipple, lingering there.

Pretty cool.

When Terri came out to show me another dress, she noticed my distraction. She glanced toward the other changing room and looked back at me with a frown. She stepped between me and my half-naked preteen.

“Jim,” Terri started. Then she paused as the clerk passed by on his way to get another load of clothes from hangers near the changing rooms. When he’d carried the clothes away, she whispered, “Jim, she’s just a child.”

Pointedly, I glanced around Terri to look at the child in question, who stood there in a pink flowery bra while her mother tugged at pulled at the tiny cups to check their fit, slipping her motherly fingers along the girl’s smooth young breasts in the process. “You don’t want me looking at underaged tits, give me some full-grown ones to look at.”

Terri looked at me suspiciously.

“Go ahead,” I whispered. “Leave your curtain open a bit. Do it.”

She looked as though she was going to object, but I knew she couldn’t. And indeed, she didn’t. But she kept her back to me the whole time, so I saw only her naked back and old granny panties.

Those ugly old panties. They had to go.

“Excuse me,” I said as the clerk made another trip back to pick up clothes to restock. “Do you carry ladies’ panties?”

“Of course.”

I was tempted to ask him if he wore ladies panties, but I didn’t. “Good. Bring a couple of pairs for my wife to try on. The sexier the better—know what I mean?” I had serious doubts that this dainty lad did know what I meant, so I added, “See-throughs or thongs, you know? And maybe a see-through bra to match, also. Thirty-six B.” The guy headed off toward the lingerie section—with a couple of backward looks at me.

Just as the clerk returned with a couple of flimsy little nothings, Terri came out of the changing room in a green flowered dress that would be fine for teaching kindergarten. At the same time, the kid and her mother emerged from their changing room. The kid glanced at the sheer little panties and bras the clerk handed me, then up at my face, never letting a single emotion show on her face.

“Give the panties and bras to my wife,” I told the clerk in a voice loud enough for the girl and her mother to hear, “so she can try them on.”

At that, the mother whisked her daughter away. The clerk mumbled something about having to buy the panties if Terri tried them on, then went off to ring up the mother’s purchase of two bras for her deceptively wicked little daughter.

Terri looked at the underwear in her hand, then up at me, quizzically. “Try them on,” I commanded. “And leave the curtain open a bit. Do it.”

She did. But she hid on the far side of the changing room from where she’d left the curtain open three inches.

So, she could obey the letter of what I said while disobeying the spirit. We’d see about that. I stuck my head inside, making sure I opened the curtain another couple inches. “Let’s see.”

She swivelled toward me, covering the sheer underwear with her arms. “Jim....”

“Do it!”

Reluctantly, Terri lowered her arms. The black bra was nearly as clear as the nightgown I got her for her birthday, which meant her dark nipples showed through beautifully. The panties covered her more thoroughly, unfortunately, but the triangle of cloth in front was so small that her pubic hair fluffed noticeably out from the sides.

“Turn around.”

“Jim, this is very uncomfortable.” She gestured toward the panties. “It, you know, rides up between my buttocks.”

“Let me see.”

Reluctantly, she did so. “See what I mean?”

Indeed I did. The back strap of the tiny thong had quickly found its way between those scumptious buns of hers.

“Wear it,” I told her. “Wear them both.”

“But they’re expensive, Jim.”

“Then don’t buy the bra. But for now, keep them both on. Do it!”

Terri sighed, then waited for me to pull my head from out of the curtain. When I didn’t, she sighed again, louder, and picked up another dress to try on—the next-to-last of the demure dresses she’d picked out herself. She looked damned sexy, bending over in such skimpy underwear in a semi-public place.

“Satisfied?” When the dress was on, she planted her hands on her hips and glared at me.

“It’s okay. Now try on the ones I picked out for you.”

“I have one more of mine, first. And I’m not changing into anything until you get your head out of here.”

With a wicked grin, I withdrew. She closed the curtain on me, but I opened it right up again. She closed it. I opened it even wider, a good two feet. No place she could hide inside that changing booth now. Terri glared at me some more, but I noticed that her eyes were shining. Even under hypnosis, Terri was a strong person. Also a very turned-on person, I thought, despite her losing efforts at modesty. Her chest was heaving, and it was easy to see that her nipples were hard.

“Leave it open like this,” I commanded. Almost as an afterthought, I added, “Do it!”

And so the curtain remained halfway open. I glanced around and caught the clerk abruptly trying to turn away so I wouldn’t catch him looking at my wife. Maybe he wasn’t quite so unmanly as I’d thought.

I motioned him near and stood with my back to Terri, so he’d be looking at her as he talked to me. His name tag read proclaimed him to be named Andy. “When is closing time, Andy?” I asked idly.

The clerk tore his gaze away from my nearly nude wife, changing clothes not six feet away. “Uh....” He glance down at his watch. “Ten minutes. But, uh, you can’t take as long as you want.”

“Ten minutes? Tell you what, if you want to go ahead and lock the doors so no other customers come in, I’d understand.”

Andy glanced toward the changing room and gulped. Abruptly he turned away and hurried toward the door. Within a second, I heard the curtain being pulled back farther. Andy must have seen Terri start to turn toward him and wanted to get out of there before she saw him.

“Nice,” I told her about the demure school dress she had on. “Now the denim one I picked out for you.” That was the one that had a low cut top and a flared, short skirt. When she hesitated, I barked out, “Do it!”

Startled, my wife looked at me. Her eyes kind of glazed over, and I knew my post-hypnotic suggestion had again kicked in. She made no effort to pull the curtain closed, either, and it was almost completely open. Staring at me, she started to undo the buttons at the front of the dress.

The clerk, Andy, returned just as Terri’s bra started to be visible. “Uh, can I be of any further assistance, sir?”

Shaking my head, I let out a laugh. His adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t say anything more. Neither did I.

By mutual, unspoken consent, our attention returned then to Terry, who stood there inside the open curtain, staring at us, fully clothed. Her eyes appeared almost glazed. She looked at the clerk, then at me, and slowly, ever so slowly, resumed unbuttoning the dress. Goddamn, this power over her was fan-fucking-tastic!

When the dress was unbuttoned to the waist, my wife stared into my eyes and slowly pulled the dress off her shoulders. The material fell to her waist. She was nearly nude from the waist up; the bra did almost nothing to hide her breasts. She just stood there, letting us both watch, doing nothing to cover herself.

Just when I thought she’d turned into a statue, she raised her hands and wiggled the dress off her hips. It slipped to the floor with a sound that was easily the loudst noise in the utterly silent store. I heard Andy gulp as Terri’s pubic hair came into view, sticking out from the tiny triangle of black cloth. Again she paused in this position, letting us drink in her beauty, then she stepped daintily away from the dress puddled at her feet.

Turning her back, she bent over to pick it up—not quite bending from the waist, but not quite bending in ladylike fashion, either. The globes of her ass were completely bare and open to this stranger’s view. As she bent, a sliver of black panty between her legs drew my attention, and I’m sure Andy’s, too.

As she was stepping into the denim dress, I glanced over at the clerk. His face was red, and when he realized I was looking at him he got all flustered. No wonder, really. Here he was, staring at my wife undressing, right beside me, a big, mean-looking son of a bitch who could break him in half with one hand. The desire on his face was nearly submerged under sudden uncertainty and fear.

“I think I’m going to have a seat.” I gestured toward a ladder-back chair on the wall opposite and a bit beyond the changing rooms. I’d be able to see both him and Terri, but he wouldn’t see me unless he turned around—which I didn’t think was too likely, considering my wife’s brazen show. “The door is locked, isn’t it, Andy?”

“Uh, yes sir. And sir?”

“Yes?”

He broke into a grin. “Thank you!”

In response, I slapped him on the shoulder. Nearly knocked him to floor.

By now, Terri had on the denim dress. “Walk around,” I said from my position on the chair. “Do it.”

She did, kind of like a robot.

“Don’t know,” I said. “I think maybe people would be able to see your panties if you bent over. What do you think, Andy?”

“Well, if madame was very careful,” he began.

I interrupted him before he went into a full-fledged etiquette lesson. “Bend over, Terri. Let’s see if we can see your panties. Do it.”

My wife walked over to me. Her chest was heaving and her cheeks were flushed. She leaned toward me, resting her palms on my thighs, giving me a close-up look down the front of her dress at that sheer bra. Looking into my eyes, she slowly straighted up. “Could you see my panties?” she purred.

I cleared my throat. “Uh, no. Andy, could you see her panties?”

“No, sir.”

Terri looked around at him in lust-hazed surprise; that little bend had been aimed in his direction. Just as my hypnotic suggestion had commanded, she was getting real turned on at the thought of being on display.

Andy gave a happy grin. “Nothing but ass, sir.”

“See, Terri, you don’t have to worry about strangers being able to see your panties when your dressed like this.”

“I’m so glad.”

I wasn’t sure it that was a smart-alec remark or not, but decided that it couldn’t be. “Try on the pink silk dress now, Terri.” She turned like a robot—a very sexy robot—to do my bidding.

I stopped her by reaching out and grabbing the flared hem of her skirt, which caused her ass to come into my view. When I reached under the denim to stroke her smooth flesh, Terri looked at me over her shoulder and gave me a smoldering, sexy smile. Yes, she was definitely turned on.

“Try on the other panties, Terri. But don’t wear your bra for this dress. And,” I added magnanimously, wanting to prolong the expectation to the breaking point, “you can close the curtains until you’ve changed.”

“Yes, master.”

Master! That was a wonderful touch, and I hadn’t even commanded her to call me that! I ran my hand between her legs—the smooth fabric of her panties was sopping wet—and then gestured with my other hand for her to go to the changing room.

When she closed the curtain, Andy sighed and looked wistfully at it. The first thing Terri did was pull off the black thongs; you could see, under the bottom of the short cutain, as she her pulled them from her feet. Then again, as she stepped into a pair of lacy white panties.

“Nice curtains,” I said to Andy.

He jumped as though he’d forgotten I was there. Reluctantly, he turned from watching white lace snake its way up my wife’s calf. “Thank you. I picked them out myself. The last sets were longer and wider. Made it too easy to close, you know.”

I grinned. “Why you sneaky little pervert.”

He smiled, as though proud of the description. “Nothing like this has ever happened to me before. Twelve years in the retail trade, and all I’ve ever had before were peeks. Lots of those, mind you, but nothing like this.”

I just nodded.

“You two live near here?”

I narrowed my eyes and gave him the kind of glare that, back in my biker days, had made many an asshole tuck his tale between his legs and start apologizing profusely. Instantly, the clerk looked as though he was ready to shit his pants. Instantly, he went from smarmy co-conspirator to snivelling blob whose mouth quivered, making a mole on his upper lip look like a biker buddy on one of those cobblestone streets me and the boys had inadvertently stumbled across back near Albany, years ago.

Instantly! No shit, man, even after years of marriage to a kindergarten teacher, I’ve still got it!

“Relax,” I said eventually to the clerk. A line of spit had started to drip from his still-quivering lips. “Just remember, though, that this is a one-night deal, okay? You’ll never see us again.”

“Uh, fine, sir.” He wiped at his mouth, then stood there, rubbing his palm against his pants leg and pointedly looking toward me, not the changing room. “Uh, do you want me to leave now?”

Just then, Terri threw the curtain open. Andy spun around. My wife stood there with one hand raised from pushing the curtain back on its rod, a sultry expression on her face. Without saying a word, she raised her other hand and placed it on her hip. Desire, her eyes said. Sex. Passion. Lust.

“Sweet Jesus,” Andy breathed.

“Yeah....” I’d always known my wife was a sexy woman ever since the first night I’d met her, when me and a couple of other guys crashed a university party. She’d been standing there talking with a nerdy-looking guy, her boyfriend of two years. She sipped from a styrofoam cup of punch as she gazed haughtily at the intruders from another world—the world of bikes and risks and attitude that shoved itself in your face and screamed, ‘Don’t mess with me, asshole!’

Despite all my attitude, so out of place at a college dance, a faint smile had crossed her face. A soul-stealing smile that I instinctively knew the nerdy guy had never glimpsed. She wasn’t afraid of me. Amused, perhaps. More likely, turned on. As yet I was very soon to learn, she was still a virgin. A college senior on the dean’s list, and an honest-to-god virgin.

Until the night she met me!

And now, as Terri stood there in a fuck-me dress and a fuck-me expression, I again saw my gorgeous wife for the first time.

With eyes only for me, she twirled. The dress flew up. She’d removed the white lace panties sometime while I was talking with the clerk. Too wet, maybe. Or maybe she just wanted to do it....

“Like it, Jim?” she said in a low voice

My mouth was too dry for me to answer right away.

“Wonderful!” Andy clapped. “Incredible! Take it from a professional, ma’am, that dress is you. It just, just, well, it captures your very soul!”

Terry’s eyes glowed. The little asshole was right. My hypnotism hadn’t created this expression, this wantonness, just released it from its shell. Terri’s parents didn’t know this side of her at all. They only knew the kindergarten-teacher side of her, not the virgin who’d damned near begged me to screw her in the bushes outside the main entrance to her college dorm after I’d known her a mere hour. This look was why I was married to her.

Or perhaps, why she’d dained to marry me.

“Twelve years in women’s clothes,” Andy began. “I mean, twelve years selling women’s clothes, not wearing them—and I’ve never, NEVER, seen a dress so perfect for a woman. You make that dress a thousand times lovelier than it would be on any other woman. It’s, well, heavenly, ma’am.”

She smiled at him, then stared at me. If looks could start fires, I would have gone up in a puff of very delighted smoke.

Yet along with the sex, there was a question in her eyes. A question that asked, what’s next? And all of a sudden I didn’t know the answer. All I could think of was, what do you want to do, Terri?

It was as though she read my thoughts. Smiling even more brilliantly than before, she stepped back into the changing room without turning around. Her face was an invitation.

An invitation I accepted. Andy, too. The two of us oozed our way to threshold of the changing cubicle.

Terri shrugged. Then again; slowly yet inexorably, the strap of the dress started slipping down her shoulder. Fleetingly, I wondered if this was another of the subtle, sexy tricks she’d practiced, like being able to pop a breast button open for the titillation of the male teachers at her school. But of course not; she had no dresses like this to practice with. This was just raw talent at work.

With the strap slipping down, the bosom of the dress gaped away from her chest. Shadows hugged her curves, drawing my gaze.

Another shrug, and the top half of her right nipple came into view.

“Buy this dress,” I managed to growl.

A look of melancholy passed like a cloud over her face. “It costs $298. That’s more than my gift certificate is worth.”

“How much is your certificate?” Andy said quickly

“$200.”

“You can have it for $200, then " Andy’s gaze was glued to my wife’s nearly exposed chest. The dress was at that magical point where it hid almost nothing, yet what it hid made her breasts seem even more beautiful, more alluring than if they were naked.

“I can’t,” Terri said. She got that look on her face like she was doing math in her head—nothing anyone else would notice, it was so quick, but I knew her like I knew my old Harley. Usually that look came when she was writing out checks for our bills, not when she was calculating how much of a gift a voyeuristic clerk was giving her. “$98 is a lot of money, and it would make me feel like a, a....”

“A whore?” I reached out to touch Terri’s cheek. Suddenly my momentary hesitation was over; I knew what was next. I turned to the clerk. “Would you like to see her breasts?”

Numbly, Andy nodded.

I pointed to the sexy bra and panties, which Terri had folded neatly on the padded seat of the changing room. “Enough to throw those into the bargain?”

“Absolutely!”

I looked at Terri and nodded. “Do it!”

“Bra and panties, $53,” she said. “Total cost for peep show, $151.” Then she shrugged the dress strap off her other shoulder. With a controlled passion that was almost as sexy as fucking, she slowly pulled the dress to her waist and stood there half-naked, arms at her side.

As though in a dream, the clerk reached out toward Terri’s breasts. He stopped, though, with arm outstretched. He looked at me warily. “May I?”

“Give us the rest of the underwear you brought to her.”

Andy paused as though mentally totalling the cost of this expensive underwear.

“Four pair of panties,” Terri said, “$68. Total cost now $217.”

Andy squeezed his eyes shut.

“She’s a kindergarten teacher,” I told him. “No shit.”

The clerk’s eyes popped open. He swallowed hard, then nodded.

“Touch her, then. One hand only.”

He ran a finger lightly around one hard nipple and spoke without moving his eyes from my wife’s tits. “For the denim dress,” he said, “let me suck on her teats.”

I gave Terri a moment to do her math; I was confident that she knew what everything cost. That’s what comes of having a smart, college-educated wife. “Dress, $159. Total, $376.”

“Sounds like a fair price for tits like these,” I said. “Do it, Terri.”

Andy winced at what he was paying, but didn’t hesitate to start sucking. Terri loved it, but she kept her gaze on me, even as she ran her fingers through the clerk’s hair to pull him harder against her. When she started moaning and getting carried away, his hair suddenly came loose in her hand.

She let out a little “eek”, just like she’d done when she’d waltzed into her old bedroom in her birthday lingerie with her brother-in-law watching. Andy looked at his toupee in her hands and turned red. Then he grabbed the wig from her and tossed it behind him. “Oh, fuck it,” and he returned to nuzzling her breasts.

After a couple of minutes, though, he raised his head. “The white dress for her to be completely naked.”

“With no touching,” I added immediately. “And it will cost you both the white and the green dresses.”

“Just get naked,” he breathed, “naked, naked, naked....”

“Two more dresses,” Terri said, “$318. Total is now $694.”

“Naked,” Andy groaned as he stared at my wife in rapt anticipation. “Naked.”

“Do it, Terri.”

She stared at me, then shook her head. Not in refusal; in amazement, shock and disbelief that she was actually stripping naked for a stranger who was paying a ridiculously high price for her sexual services.

Then she wiggled her hips. Slowly as she wiggled, the dress crept down her hips. She paused. One last wiggle, then, and the dress pooled at her feet.

“Sweet Jesus,” Andy whispered. He reached out for her.

“No touching. Remember?”

The little man looked at me nervously. Then he looked at the dresses hanging on a hook in the dressing room. “The rest of those,” he said, “to make love to her.”

Terri let out a gasp. “No, Jim. AIDS....”

For a minute there I wanted to make her screw this guy despite (or perhaps because of) her hesitation. But she was right. She needed to practice safe sex because anything she picked up I’d catch, too.

“No,” I said. “But for the rest of the dresses you can watch me screw her, and you can jack off.”

Andy got a stubborn look on his face. “Too high. Maybe you two should just get out of here right now before I call the cops.”

Damn, that made me mad. No way he’d call the cops; he was just trying to bluff his way to a better deal. I took a deep breath and moved a half-step closer, scowling at him. His stubbornness disappeared. “Forget I said that,” he wailed, hiding his face behind his hands. “Please!”

“You can touch her while I fuck her.” I grabbed Terri by the waist and pulled her close, then kissed her hard while I ran my fingers into her cunt. I’d never felt her this wet. She shivered in my arms. Her lips were hot.

“Uh....” The clerk looked at me timidly when I finally ended the kiss. “Can I cum on her face?”

“No!” Terri said.

“Yes,” I said. “Terri, take out my cock. Do it!” I sat on the bench as she knelt in front of me and undid my belt and zipper, then tugged my jeans down. “Suck me,” I commanded.

When my cock was in her mouth, I looked at Andy through half-open eyes. “What are you waiting for? Go ahead, touch her like the whore she is.”

With a nervous little laugh, he ran a hand down her naked back. He looked up at me. When I didn’t get mad, he knelt on the floor behind her and started touching her buttocks. One of his hands disappeared beneath her, and Terri suddenly started breathing like a steam engine, almost forgetting her duty to suck me. I guess he’d found her pussy.

This scenario was turning me on so much that without further ado I pushed Terri to her feet, twirled her around so her back was to me and her front toward Andy. I spread my legs apart, pushing her knees apart in the process, till she hovered over my lap like a bowlegged cowgirl, her pussy close to my cock.

But I had a better idea. Planting my hands on her hips, I started to lower her to my—with my cock aimed at her wide-open asshole.

Terri stiffened when she realized what I was aiming for. “No, Jim.”

“Yes, Terri.” Andy’s hands were on her tits now, which probably weakened her residual resolve. “Do it!”

And with that, I pulled her onto my cock. We’d never done this before; I’d asked a few times when we were first married, then given up. Doing it up her ass wasn’t my favorite position, although it was nice as a variation. She sure was tight that way, but, well, it didn’t seem like something a real man would do all that often, if you know what I mean.

Inch by inch, my wife’s virgain asshole slipped farther down my cock, while this stranger watched. My legs were wide, and Terri’s wider, which meant that Andy had an unobstructed view of my penetration. “She’s never taken it up the ass before,” I told him.

He nodded eagerly and reached out to touch her—but paused as if looking to me for confirmation. I guess I’d scared this little shit pretty good.

“Go ahead,” I grunted as I pulled Terri slowly up, then down. “You’ve paid for it.” Paid through the nose, like she was a really expensive whore. “Touch her anywhere.”

As sudden thought struck me, and I added, “But brush against me even a little, twerp, and you die.”

Andy gulped and contented himself with squeezing Terri’s tits.

“You... you were... going to... to jack off,” Terri reminded him.

I was surprised and pleased. She was really getting into this, even the butt-fucking.

Eagerly, Andy pulled out his cock, which was right at Terri’s eye level. In the side mirror of the dressing room, I watched her rapt expression as her eyes devoured this new cock just inches from her face. Her ass moved more willingly, eagerly, in my lap, stroking faster as the clerk stroked himself.

With a screech, Terri came. She damn near swooned, so strong was her orgasm. Like a rag doll in my arms. If I wasn’t so damn strong, I swear she’d have fallen right off my lap.

I hadn’t cum yet, so I kept moving my hands on her hips for my own pleasure. Terri showed signs of life when Andy reached down and stuck some fingers up her pussy while I butt-fucked her. After just a few seconds of that she again came, very loudly and wildly.

And then she did something that surprised me.

She reached out and urged Andy to his feet, so his cock was again near her face. Then she slowly reached out and touched his penis. With a glazed smile she looked up at his face, then down at her own hands as she began masturbating him while I fucked her. She stuck out her tongue and wiggled it, as though she were eager to wrap it around this stranger’s cock—but didn’t dare.

That was too much for me. With a wild grunt, I shot my load up her ass.

She never missed a stroke, keeping her hand moving in a blur over the clerk’s cock. Once, I think her tongue made contact with the tip of the guy’s prick; in any case, she reeled in her tongue just as Andy let out a cry and grabbed onto the doorframe of the changing booth, shoving his hips forward as though wanting more of my wife’s mouth. Terri pulled back just a little, just enough, then closed her eyes and mouth and tilted her face up, receiving this stranger’s semen splattering all over her face, even rubbing the head of his cock in the globs of semen on her cheek.

Damn, that was an evening to remember!