Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mind Control, Heterosexual, Cheating,
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Most of my life I had been your utterly average guy. This took a drastic turn, when my long deceased father 'visited' me during a spiritist seance. Over a few weeks I got more high quality pussy than in all my life.
I cannot even contemplate how many times I have wished for that secret gift, which would give me the power to manipulate people's minds. I cannot even imagine, I should be the only one to harbour such a wish.
I know all too well where this fantasy originates. You see, I am your 100% average man. Average looks, average brains, average height and in every way a man of average success. I hardly need to interpret to you, my dear reader, what that means.
Although I know that envy is one of the cardinal sins, I have to confess to it. Oh, my, do I have to confess. Those horrible teen-age years, when all the girls had their attention focused on the tall guys, the handsome guys, even the fresh and the rough ones, but never on young mister Average. That was the time I felt those pangs of envy for the first time. Or in college. When I watched the guys with brains and money skedaddle through it all. While I had to study hard to get my grades, they spent most of their time at parties and in different beds, and when graduation got closer they had picked the prettiest and sexiest of the girls. I got laid one lousy time, and that was only because the girl wanted to make a lost boyfriend jealous. He did not notice, and I got a lousy, pathetic lay. Envy.
Graduation, job, applying myself to a 'career' in a large corporation. Where the guys with charisma, with the easy-going charm, with the power to attract attention, stole all the promotions, and left me right in the middle of the pyramid, where nobody would notice me, as long as I filled my quota. Envy again.
As the unproductive envy slowly seeped out of me, it was replaced by a kind of reluctant acceptance. If this was the way it was going to be, I had better come to terms with it and get on with some kind of a life.
I met an average girl. Mary and I liked each other, got married, settled down in a fairly nice house, and within three years we had two average children. Our daily life was a comfortable routine, and our love life was fairly satisfactory, though not very spectacular.
That was the time when the fantasies started. First I toyed a little with the idea of mind reading, but after some time I had to admit, that I probably would not like to know what other people thought of me. Then I read some books and short stories where mind-control was part of the plot. The idea appealed to me, and for a couple of years I liked to spend a little time, just before falling asleep, choosing a person and then imagine, what I should like to do to his or her mind. Great fun. Eventually my imagination dried up, and for a short period the fantasies became more like a sleeping pill because of the repetitions, and I forgot about it.
Years later I became quite absorbed by the different ideas of the afterlife. Suffice it to say, that one evening I visited a spiritist 'temple' in Copenhagen, and the medium brought me messages from my deceased father. This was the first time I visited the place, so he could not know who I was, but anyway he told me details about looks, nicknames, family events etc. that were so precise, they had to come 'from the source'. I was convinced. Days later I contacted this medium in order to learn, if I could 'receive' in the same way. I was told that it might be possible, given the circumstances, because a person 'from the other side', was trying to contact me. He set up a program of meditation and training of my mind, to open up to messages which were there, but which were unknown to most people. Eureka. In only three months I received the first flashes of insight, and one month later I would have short conversations with my father, who had died when I was only 10. For fear of ridicule I kept all this a deep secret, not even my wife knew anything, and for the first time I had some use of my very average position in the company pyramid: I could spend all my mental power on this project, with no harm done to my so-called career.
From our 'conversations' I learned, that my father's wish to make contact, was very strong. He felt, that by getting himself killed in a stupid, self-inflicted accident, he had been a major contributor to my utterly average life, not being there in my formative years to enhance my confidence and courage, and he had a strong wish to 'do something' for me. Alas, it was much too late to make any fundamental changes to my life, but when I 'told' him about my fantasies of mind control, he became very enthusiastic. That was a field where he could do something for me, although he warned me: To gain full control would take a long time, but limited attempts might bring bits of sunlight into my dull life, while I struggled to gain full control.
First he taught me to go through the same mental training I had had, while I attempted to receive messages from 'the other side', only this time reversed: I was to send out 'messages' of my own. As soon as he felt that I had reached some kind of proficiency in this field, he set out to teach me how to execute my first attempts in mind control. As a beginner I should need skin contact with the person I wanted to influence. Then I was taught how to form images in my mind, which I could transfer to the 'victim' and then later connect to different centres of emotion.
I started out with my wife, who was the easiest person to achieve skin contact with. I transferred an image of myself to her, which I later connected to the emotions she would have in her abdomen, so that all the many times every day, when sex crossed her mind, it would be connected to my image. The result was evident in only two days. She became much more focused on me, and for the first time in years she took the initiative in bed. A week later I planted the image of my lips and tongue on her cunt, and connected it to her clitoris, and in just a few days she straddled my face and demanded to be licked out. That was an absolute first. My confidence grew, and I was ecstatic when I was met with absolute success, gaining access to her ass for my finger and my cock. At this time my father advised me to take my new skill 'to town'.
On his advice I transferred an image of hardworking me to my wife, in order to assure peace on the home front, should I stay out late, and I decided that Jannie should be my first target. She is a luscious redhead who often visits a café, where I like to listen to jazz, but she is 16 years my junior, and although we will hug in a friendly way when we meet, she has never shown any sexual interest. But I sure have lusted for her! Fortunately my wife is no jazz fan, and over the years she has got used to my going there about twice a month.
The next jazz evening I transferred my image to Jannie, and made connections to her abdomen, vagina and clit. All this was done in the few seconds we hugged, cheek to cheek, and then I went to the bar and bought my first beer. Later I sat down at another table, only to be joined by Jannie during the second intermission. We danced a few dances, and when the band played their version of 'Take The A-Train', Jannie asked if I'd like to hear the original recording - at her place, of course. I knew she lived only 3 minutes walk from the café, and before the band had finished their gig, we were on our way.
In her apartment she poured us a couple of drinks, then she put the CD on the player, and when 'Take The A-Train' started, she turned round, stretched out her arms and said: "Care to dance it once more?" Jannie is almost as tall as I am, and her wonderful body felt so soft and pliant, it was almost as if she melted into me. In the privacy of her own apartment, her dancing was a lot more sexy and suggestive, and for once I didn't hesitate taking the initiative. When I reached in and opened the two top buttons of her dress, I was met with a smile of approval, and half a minute later she opened the last three herself. The top of her breasts, which could be seen over her black bra, was a matte, pearly white, with a few freckles on. What a sight. As my hands caressed her body I could feel, that she was wearing panties and stay up stockings, so I planted the image of her in underwear into her mind. A little later she stepped away from me, opened the belt of her dress, and soon she had pulled it over her head, thrown it on an armchair, and then she melted into my arms again. "Do you like to see me like this?" she whispered.
"No, I don't like it. I love it! You look gorgeous, Jannie, even better than I had imagined." I hugged her close, grabbed her soft ass with both hands and pressed her tummy against my erection.
I learned a lesson that night. A lot of the excitement was taken out of it, if I made my control too detailed. While we were hugging, rocking slowly in rhythm with the music, I transferred an image of her, lying on her bed with only her stockings on, and therefore it was no surprise to me, when she took my hand and guided me to her bedroom, where she shed her bra and panties, and lay down on her bed. I then and there decided not to use control for the rest of the evening, unless something very specific became important to me. Never fear. Jannie was one hot lady. First thing I noticed was her shaven cunt, which is not that common in Denmark. Second was her almost luminant, white skin, but best of all was the look of wanton lust in her eyes.
In no time I was naked and stretched out beside her. God, I needed to feel that naked, soft body against mine. I started caressing her, but she whispered: "I've wanted you in me for so long. Please fuck me."
"Just a second, Jannie. I've got to taste that lovely, plump and naked cunt. God, you look sooo inviting." I kissed my way down her body, till my mouth rested on that sweet, naked mussel. She tasted wonderful, and she was really a woman worth sucking. There was plenty of juice to drink, and just a few seconds of sucking her clit got her going. All the time she let out the horniest sighs and moans I ever heard. The sound of them went straight to my cock! Soon she was making small humping motions, pushing her cunt closer to my face, and at last she grabbed my head and tried to push it up her cunt. At least that was how it felt. She screamed her way through a violent orgasm and when it died down she grabbed my hair and pulled.
"Up here, now. And fuck me. That was lovely, but I need your cock now. Fuck me. Take meeee!"
How could I disobey such an order? She was absolutely wonderful. Her cunt was slippery and hot, but surprisingly tight, and again she used those small movements from the dance. She felt so absolutely vibrant and alive against my skin, the way she was always moving some part of her body against me: Little twists of her shoulders would rub her big breasts against my chest, or she would squeeze her thighs rhythmically around my hips, and so on. I could feel that I should not last very long in this hot woman, but suddenly I remembered that I had overheard Jannie say, she liked it a bit rough.
I grabbed her wrists and held them down hard above her head, and then I started fucking her really hard: Fast and then slow, fast again, but always slamming my pelvis down on her. The physical strain of this would make me last a little longer, and Jannie certainly welcomed it.
"Oh, Erik, you are wonderful. God, this is good." Her groans turned into little whimpers and then small screams. She was such a wonderful sight when I looked down at her body: Her rounded tummy quivered and her big breasts were flying around on her chest.
"AAAhhhh, Jannie, you are great. I'm going to come soon," I groaned, as I was fucking her faster and faster.
"Oh, yessss, me too, aaaahhhhh, yessss, yessss." She was screaming almost at the top of her voice now, and miraculously we hit the ceiling together. Her orgasm was a violent affair, and I felt like her tight cunt squeezed the last drops out of me, as I collapsed on top of her.
I had let go of her wrists, and she threw her arms round my neck. A little later she took my face between her hands and kissed me all over, while she made little humming noises in her throat. "MMmm, Erik, this was absolutely lovely. I wouldn't have guessed, that an old guy like you could be such a good fuck. If I had, I should have scored you years ago." Her kisses belied her words about my age.
I kissed her back and said: "And I always thought you were too young to be really good. If I had known, I might have made a pass at you, then."
My very satisfied cock slipped out of her, and she put her hands on my shoulders and gave me a little push. "Well, don't you think you have better get home to your little wife, so she won't become suspicious? Can't have her wondering too much, if I want to do this again next time there's jazz at the café."
"But, Jannie, I feel a little lousy just getting up and out."
"Don't even think of it, Erik. As much as I loved this, I'd hate to sleep with you. I'm not made for sleeping together. I prefer to do that alone, with your smell and the memory to keep me company."
Fifteen minutes later I opened my front door. As was usual after a jazz evening, my wife had gone to bed, and I went directly to the shower. Years ago she had complained that I smelled too bad of smoke and alcohol, and it had become a habit to shower before I went to bed. As I slipped under the covers she registered my arrival, and she mumbled: "How nice of you to shower, dear. Was the music good?" Before I even started to say something she was asleep again.
What surprised me most was the fact that I felt no guilt or remorse. After all, this was the first time I had been unfaithful to my wife, but all I could feel was joy and satisfaction. I did not want to get involved in a moral discussion with myself, and a few minutes later I was fast asleep.