Chapter 1: Grace

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mind Control, FemaleDom, Black Female, White Male, Pregnancy, .

Desc: Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 1: Grace - A horny young man wants to free himself of a domineering older woman. A sexy Black psychologist can help. Is the cure worse than the disease, or better?

"My God! What an ass on that woman!" I thought as I looked out from my patio. Although Grace Archer must be past forty, her figure didn't show it. Or rather, it did. She was plump in all the right places! I had been watching my sexy new neighbor leave the house in a skimpy nurse's uniform each day since she moved next door a few weeks ago. It seldom failed to send me off to work horny or back to my room for some relief. On weekends I had seen her in frilly, translucent blouses that made it impossible not to stare. And the miniskirts and high heels she wore -- a little trashy, but damn they were hot! I couldn't keep from looking at her beautiful ass. She gave me a hard on almost anytime I caught a glimpse of her.

Right now I was guiltily watching her hang out her laundry: lacy bras and high French-cut panties, not the sorts of things that most middle-aged women wore — nor the sort of things any woman would hang outside in public view unless she had a reason, but I was too naïve to know that at the time. This morning she had on a pair of tight pink short shorts and a bright yellow halter I hadn't seen before. The halter displayed her full breasts and the shorts hugged her tight round ass in a way that stiffened my prick as usual. No doubt about it, Mrs. Archer was one hell of a stacked woman.

Suddenly, to my embarrassment, she noticed my eyes on her and blew me a kiss before wiggling her hips back into her house. The rest of the week I had the impression she knew I was watching and that she was deliberately putting on a show for me. Although embarrassed at my attraction to this sexy older woman, I couldn't get her out of my mind.

When Friday night rolled I was alone, Sarah, my girlfriend thought that that seeing each other once a week was enough. I think what she meant was that way she only had to turn me down for sex once ever seven days. I had a few beers and turned in early. That night I dreamed about Grace. I saw her standing by my bed in a short black dress rubbing her tits and touching herself between her legs. I tried to get up, but I seemed paralyzed. Then, very deliberately, she let the dress fall away. She was naked except for panties and heels. Grinning, she slowly and deliberately slipped out of the panties and into bed with me. As she straddled me, she offered me one of her luscious breasts. I took it and the dream faded away.

When I awoke very late Saturday morning, I could see I must have had a Hell of a wet dream. The bed was a mess and I felt totally drained as if I had come several times in my sleep. I tried to put the strange dream out of my mind, but it seemed always to be there.

I set about straightening the house, doing the laundry and catching up on business and tried to think about my date that night with Sarah. It was annoying not to be able to get this sexy older woman out of my mind. Even to compare the two women was ridiculous. My fiancee was slim and pretty, a lawyer a few years younger than I who did work for my firm occasionally. We were obviously right for each other. Sarah was sensible and orderly and destined to be a perfect wife. We would have sex once a week on Friday night -- lights out. She would decide when the best time was for each of our exactly two children to be born and I would wear a condom on all other occasions. I had given up on getting her to go out for a romantic evening or a night of dancing. At 25, she said she was too old for that. Sarah was sweet and oh so sensible, but I couldn't shake the raw sexuality Mrs. Archer exuded.

Later, just as I was about to leave to pick up Sarah for our date at the opera, I heard a knock on my door. To my dismay, I found a grinning Grace Archer there with a big plate of stuffed jalapeno peppers, ready for a "neighborly visit." Considering my uncomfortable attraction to her, I was not eager to let her in. Besides, I really didn't have time for her visit right then. Still, I found with the memory of that dream still on my mind and I couldn't close the door on her.

She greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and a too-tight hug as she sashayed in, looking around as if she were going to buy the place. Planting herself on my couch, she began downing the stuffed peppers, talking a mile a minute. I sat as far away as possible on the love seat across the room hoping I could get rid of her as soon as possible, but my stiffening prick did not agree.

Try as I might, I couldn't ignore her display of cleavage while we talked. Soon I realized she had her skirt hiked up as well, and I could see she wasn't wearing any panties. I tried to control myself, but I couldn't keep my eyes from peering up her skirt, or into her blouse. The more I looked, the more difficult it became to follow what she was saying. I was getting so horny just looking at this woman I couldn't think about anything except wanting to bury my face in those titties and run my hand up under her dress.

Attempting to defuse the situation, I offered her some tea. "Don't you have any beer? Pacifico would be fine." she grinned. I didn't have beer of course, of course, Sarah didn't approve of my drinking beer, but against my better judgment, I produced a couple of scotches. "How about another slug and some more ice for this, honey?" she grinned as I was about to sit down again.

When I returned from the kitchen, Grace was parked on the love seat; my drink was sitting on the end table. I could hardly pick it up and take it back to the couch without being obviously rude, so I wedged myself into the little space Grace had left. This left me pressed against a large, soft and very sexy woman. I was embarrasses, but my prick thoroughly approved and hardened in appreciation.

As we sipped our drinks, I began to realize what a big mistake it had been, letting Grace into my house, and worse, to let alcohol cloud my judgment. I supposed it was my excitement, but the drink hit me hard! I tried to make small talk, but I was having increasing trouble concentrating on anything but Grace.

Suddenly she broke off, smiled at me, and said, "Do you like my breasts, David?"

"E ... excuse me?"

"Oh, don't be shy," she coaxed. "You know what I mean. You have been drooling at my titties for a half hour, boy. It's kind of cute the way you glance away occasionally, trying not to look, but your eyes keep being dragged back. I guess you just enjoy looking at women's boobs."

"Please forgive me, Mrs. Archer," I began. It's just that..."

"Oh, don't apologize," she interrupted, breezily. "And I've told you to call me Grace. It's the expected male reaction to a really nice set. The drink has probably gone to your head, poor baby, and I am sitting quite close to you." She giggled a little and snuggled a little closer. "Is it your fault that a couple of naughty buttons of my blouse are undone, giving you a nice peek at my big ... round boobs? You are a healthy young man; it's only natural for you to be getting horny."

"Well, yes, but still I shouldn't..."

"Don't be silly, David. It happens to men all the time when I show 'em these jugs. I kind like it when a man can't keep his eyes off my bosom. In fact, I want you to KEEP on looking at my titties while I open my blouse a little more," she said softly, unfastening a couple more buttons. "I want you to keep your eyes fixed on my big, round tits, David. Nice titties ... You could gaze at them forever. Say that you like to look at my tits."

"I like to look at your tits, Mrs ... Grace" I repeated, before I could stop myself.

"Very good, David," she smiled. "You are doing just what I told you to do. You are looking at my tits, as I instructed. You called me 'Grace, ' as I told you. You said just what you were supposed to. You like doing what you're told, what a woman tells you to do, don't you? You like obeying me, don't you, David?"

"Yes, ma'am." I heard myself say. God! Why would I admit that?

"That's right. Now just keep looking, you can't help looking at my big ... pretty tits ... because you want to obey me." She had lowered her voice to a gentle, rhythmic flow of sound. "Of course, I like it even better when you peek up my skirt. You were peeking at me from across the room, too, weren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am." I murmured, "But..."

"Of course you were, you naughty boy. I've got on a really short, sexy skirt that naughty boys like and I hiked it a little to give you a nice view. You couldn't keep your eyes off my crotch. Would you like to see some more?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now be careful," she teased. "You should realize that peeking at my crotch will just make you hornier, but you like me making you horny, don't you?" she coaxed.

"Yes, Grace," I barely breathed. I wasn't thinking too clearly now.

"Of course you do, sweetie," she whispered, shifting and turning to expose herself even more. "It feels good to let me get you horny. I want you to be horny, baby. Being horny helps a man does what a woman tells him. It helps you obey me. You want to be horny and obey me, David."

By now, I guess I was just staring, stupefied. "Well, don't waste my time just eyeballing me, my young friend. These titties are itching for some action. Why don't you get these puppies out of my blouse? Get yourself a couple of handful of tit and start working me over. I think you'll like what happens when a man gets his hands on my boobs!"

I started to protest but suddenly she took me into her arms and was kissing me. Part of me knew something was badly wrong! I shouldn't be doing this, not with her, and not now when Sarah was waiting for me, but somehow I couldn't keep my hands off her body.

Everything was so fuzzy. First I was just feeling her up, but then before I knew it, she had me sucking and kissing those wonderful tits until I couldn't think straight. Even while I was sucking those luscious nipples, she hiked up her skirt and guided my free hand between her legs. "Put your hands on me down here, darling. You're working my tits up real good, but I've got another toy for you to play with. Uiii, yes! Right there! Stick your finger in my cunt. Tickle my clit, lover. I'll show you how to make a girl happy!"

Foggy as I was, I was amazed; her pussy was already wet! Before I knew it, even while I was just feeling her breasts, I think, she unzipped my pants and started massaging my cock. And all the while, she kept talking, talking so softly that I couldn't make out most of what she was saying. It drove me wild. I was dazed, carried away with lust.

After having me finger her to several orgasms, she drew my face down between her legs, something Sara would never have allowed me to do, much less have initiated. I don't know how long she held me there, nuzzling her pussy and tonguing her clit, drinking the juices that oozed out each time she came, but I never wanted it to end. Finally, I heard her say, "All right lover. You've worked on me long enough, darling. It's time for us to sack out."

All thought of Sarah had fled. Grace must have just led me upstairs, to my bedroom. My memory is rather hazy, but I think she sat me down on the bed and started taking off my clothes for me. "You poor horny baby," she whispered and kissed me again. "Grace made her baby work so hard to turn her on. And he did such a good job. His hands got her nipples hard and his tongue gave her wonderful cums. He's going to be an awesome lover! Grace is feeling warm and soft and so ready for long night in bed with her stud. But in arousing her, poor baby got terribly aroused, too, didn't you sweetie? Now he deserves to relax and leave everything to Grace. Grace is going to make love to her horny baby so good."

It was like a slow motion rape! Part of me fought the desire for her, fought against losing control, but when she pushed me down to mount me, I was too weak even to want to resist any more. "Good boy, my good horny boy," she cooed and crawled astride me. She was so big, once she was on me, I couldn't push her off. I had never been fucked with a woman on top. I felt helpless under her weight, powerless. But it was wonderful, even as I felt control of myself slip away. My body was hers to do with as she wished. She took my prick and slid it in her pussy. A warm wet vice gripped me and she rode on and on, never quite letting me come, never ceasing to talk to me in that soft, sexy voice that I could not quite understand, but which I loved.

Grace got herself off more times than I could count. At last she leaned close and whispered, "Now, sweetie. Come!" As I exploded into her, she cradled my head to her bosom, placed a nipple in my mouth and let darkness fall around me


From then on my life was turned upside down. Grace came over every night so we could make love. -- Who am I kidding? - She came over to fuck. I had never been so hot for a woman. Sometimes during the day she would call me to ask if I was thinking about her, if I was imaging lying in bed under her, her pussy squeezing my prick. She just laughed when that made me come in my pants. Occasionally I had fleeting thoughts about Sarah. I knew I should return her increasingly irate calls, but then it would slip my mind. All I could think about at work was getting home so Grace could screw me again that night. She was a wonderfully randy bitch who couldn't seem to get enough, and she awoke in me that voracious passion of a younger man for an older woman.

If she was already at my house when I arrived from work, I knew how she would be waiting for me, dressed in a parody of her nurse's uniform and eager to lay me. She would engulf me in her arms and guide my hands up under the pantiless micro- shift. As I fondled her bare ass, she would kiss me and whisper teasingly, "Oh lover, baby, you seem so tense and frustrated. Are you horny because you haven't had your personal nurse for too many hours? I'd better give you some medicine to relax you. Dinner can wait, darling."

At that point food was the farthest thing from my mind.

"You need some immediate relief, don't you? I know how to soothe away those tensions, remove those frustrations. You need my special way to make a man unwind! Come upstairs to bed, honey, and I'll give you a nice, easy roll in the hay."

She wouldn't let me prepare dinner until she had served me the appetizer from between her legs and I had been screwed silly. And as soon as I had finished serving and cleaning up after the meal, she would call me to the couch where we would make out while watching an erotic video to "make sure you're in a raunchy mood," she'd giggle. Then when I was horny out of my mind, she would always take me to bed and put me to sleep like the first night: riding me to orgasm that knocked me out.

My recreational habits were jerked around 180 degrees. My (and Sarah's) season tickets to the opera lay unused. Grace preferred hockey and screamed like a maniac when a fight broke out. Between fuck sessions at home she liked to watch wrestling on TV. On weekends she dragged me up and down the East Coast to see stock car racing and tractor pulls. On the positive side she also insisted I start a rigorous exercise program at the local gym, "because I want to make sure you stay hard," she laughed.

Although I was somewhat disturbed by the powerful obsession I felt for Grace and my sudden loss of interest in other women -- Sarah had finally dumped me when I never called her -- I was too busy getting laid day and night by this voluptuous, insatiable woman to think much about it.

Things might have gone on like that for I don't know how long, if the hospital had not sent Grace out of town on training for a few days. She seemed a little apprehensive about leaving me alone, but she told me just to relax while she was gone and rented a bunch of porno movies for me. "Watch one every night and think about me while you wank," she had giggled after she made love to me the morning she went away.

The first night, that's exactly what I did. Grace's instructions were ringing in my ears when I got home that evening. Immediately I went to the VCR and slipped in the tape she had selected for me. Almost immediately my eyes were glued to the screen and my cock grew hard as a rock. An old movie from the days when porn flicks had plots, it showed a group of white explorers in Africa who are turned into breeding slaves by a tribe of big-busted women. As the movie ends, the queen of the tribe is lolling between two smiling women with large pregnant bellies who are slowly masturbating. The even more pregnant queen has an expression of sheer ecstasy on her face as camera pans down to show the leader of the explorers kneeling between her legs eating her to orgasm.

Wow! Grace really knew how to push my buttons! I went to sleep in spermy pajamas that night with visions of the queen/Grace fucking me silly. Unfortunately for Grace, the fare the next night was your typical XXX movie, several men and women fucking in various position and rooms of a house without much rhyme or reason. I had a good come, but nothing like the night before.

By the third night for the first time in months, I was thinking more clearly. I really didn't want to watch another film like last night so I decided to catch up on personal business. I sat down with my bank statement. To my shock, I noticed that for the last three months my software royalties had been transferred to Grace's account. It dawned on me that I had not been spending any of my own money recently. Grace always bought the groceries-- she was practically living over at my house now -- and when we were out shopping, even for clothes for me, she was the one who paid -- with my credit card. I even remembered the amused looks she got from some of the saleswomen and the "eat your heart out" wink she had given them. The only money I spent was a few dollars Grace gave me every morning for the Metro and lunch.

What was going on? First my sex life, then my personal life, and now finances had been taken over by my horny neighbor. I certainly couldn't remember ever agreeing to turning all of my income over to her or putting her on my credit card. The words "sex slave" popped into my mind. I could vaguely recall Grace grinning down at me as she fucked me, saying, "You want this, don't you, sweetie? You like being my little sex slave!"

This was more than embarrassing; it was terrifying. I realized I had a problem and had to get help and I knew I had better get it now, before Grace got back and fucked away this window of lucidity. I went to my computer and began searching on the Internet for local psychologists. A flashing banner caught my eye: "Dr. J. Roth -- Specialized in Psychosexual Obsessions." Just what I needed. I called for an appointment.

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