The Talent Agency
Copyright© 2025 by bpascal444
Chapter 20
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 20 - In this third installment, we continue Tom Carter's story of coming to terms with his new-found abilities to influence others, discovering other aspects to these powers, and beginning to understand how he came by them in the first place. He finds that his gifts are the accidental byproduct of failed military experiments to enhance the senses and abilities of soldiers. But even if the failures ruined a lot of lives, the prime movers aren't ready to give up, having come so close to success.
Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Mult Mind Control Heterosexual Fiction Group Sex Anal Sex Analingus Double Penetration Facial Oral Sex Safe Sex Sex Toys Voyeurism
I was barely conscious, but I heard her get up and manhandle a terrycloth robe from the closet. She closed the door when she left, and I awoke again when the light from the hall came through the open door when she came back. She tossed the robe on the other bed and climbed back in with me.
She squirmed closer and wrapped an arm around me, getting comfortable. She was quiet for awhile, then whispered, “You awake?”
“Maybe. Define ‘awake’.”
“Close enough. How do you feel?”
“How do I feel? I feel exhausted and as relaxed as I’ve ever been.”
“Yeah, that’s about right. But I’ve also got this amazing buzz and a feeling like ... like, I dunno, like all’s right with the world. I know it’s not, but that’s how I feel.
“Jesus, Carter, I gotta say, you’ve got some skills for some farm boy from Ohio. I’ve never cum that many times before. And that last one, fuck! Katrina wasn’t exaggerating.”
I raised my head. “Huh? Katrina talked about me with you?” I was suddenly quite annoyed with Katrina.
“Well, not really. The next morning when we woke up after that party she just said that she felt great because she’d been well and truly fucked by this guy she hooked up with. But I knew it was you because, well, I saw the two of you leave together. She didn’t go into any of the details. Even though I asked.”
Some of my anger dissipated. I’d always been bothered by women who shared details with their friends. They’d be furious if they found out that I was bragging to my friends, but apparently the rules don’t always work both ways.
“You know I’m not really a farm boy, right? It was just a figure of speech.”
“Yeah, I know, but I kinda like the image now, so I’m gonna think of you like that.”
She rolled onto her back and put her hands behind her head, talking to the ceiling. “I like sex. The first few times were awkward, of course. Isn’t everybody’s? But with a little practice we mostly figure it out. I’m not telling any secrets if I say that most guys don’t do it that well.
“Mostly it’s about them sticking their dicks somewhere until they get off. Sometimes we’ll luck out and they’ll ask what they can do to make it better for us. But not often, ‘cause most guys don’t have much patience. So we, women, don’t get to cum that much. Sometimes not even once.”
She rolled over again to look at me. “So imagine my surprise when I kept getting these orgasms out of nowhere. Not all big, but really, really nice. And then there’d be another one not far behind. I could get spoiled by that.
“And that last one, Carter ... Well, mostly my orgasms are small ones. Good, but not ‘the earth moving’ scale of things. So that last one just shook me silly. I think I really did pass out from that one, I can’t remember. I remember waking up and wondering why I was so knocked out. Then I saw you and it came back to me.”
She leaned over and kissed me. “That’s for reminding me that life’s full of surprises.” She went quiet again, thinking about something.
“And speaking of surprises,” she went on, “I was somewhat surprised at the things that I thought I wouldn’t like feeling quite the opposite.”
I must have looked puzzled, because she said, “Well, the pinches and the slaps, for example. I’ve always disliked it when guys try that with me because it feels, I dunno, disrespectful, like we’re some kind of slut they can slap around because they feel like it, because it makes them feel powerful. That’s the feminist in me. So I don’t quite understand why I responded the way I did with you.
“When you did it, it felt ... like a rush, a sudden flush of mixed pleasure and pain that got me closer to cumming. I wouldn’t have thought it would affect me that way.
“Another thing was how strongly I reacted to your fingers and your tongue on my butt. No one’s done that to me before, though I’ve had a couple of guys get really aggressive because they wanted to stick their dicks in my ass. It felt different with you, I’m not sure why, maybe because you were focused on admiring it, rather than using it as a place to shoot your load.
“I’m rambling a bit here, ‘cause I’m trying to understand this myself and sometimes I do that by talking it through. Anyway, I’m a little embarrassed to tell you how much of a rush I got when you were licking my ass or sticking your tongue in the crack. Or on that place just below my anus, Jesus, I thought I was going to take off!”
She rolled on her side again to face me.
“But things in my ass, that’s different. Didn’t we talk about this earlier? I said my ass was sensitive and it felt a little kinky, and you said it wasn’t? Kinsey and those others? Yeah, we did. Anyway, it still feels weird to me that I get so turned on by that even though it feels nice. Except for things in my ass. That frightens me.
“Which is why I cannot understand why I reacted so strongly when you stuck your finger in there. I was about to yell at you when I realized that I was cumming, really hard, and I couldn’t talk anyway. So the weird part is that it felt like the finger in my butt made me cum even harder. I could not have predicted that. In fact it sounds strange just to talk about it, like it shouldn’t have happened.”
She went quiet again, but it felt like there were still things left unsaid. I thought maybe I should add something to the conversation.
“I don’t know why it is that all of us think we’ve learned everything about sex -- or anything else for that matter -- after we’ve been doing it for a few years, like we’ve experienced all the variations and possibilities. I fall into that every so often, then I have to slap myself to remind me that there’s lots of stuff I don’t know.
“Maybe that’s why guys are always so convinced that they’re experts in the sack, and can’t understand why women are annoyed when they don’t get off. Or we encounter some little fetish that someone else finds to be a turn-on and we decide that that’s weird and we don’t want anything to do with it.
“I’ve met a couple of women who I found out later were into submission. They got some thrill from being told what to do, being ordered around, being made to feel worthless in some way. That’s really not my thing, in fact I find it very uncomfortable. But for whatever reason these women needed that to get off because to them it made the sex feel more powerful. It was a challenge to find some common ground where we could both feel like we’d gotten what we wanted out of it without crossing some boundary.
“The point I’m trying to make -- very badly -- is that it often takes a long time before we find and get comfortable with the things that turn us on and those that turn us off. Like things in your butt. You recognize that your ass in really sensitive, you like having it admired and fondled, it gets your motor running. But you’re not at the point where you’re comfortable with things inserted in it yet.
“If I understood you, you actually responded to the finger in your butt, it may even have made you cum, but you’re still nervous about it. I think that’s part of the process of experimentation, of finding out what works for you. You’ll get there eventually.”
She had turned to look at me as she listened. “It feels like a big step, I don’t know why. It’s probably tied to that stuff I talked about before, how my girlfriends had decided that it was wrong and that it would be painful, and it rubbed off on me. And now I realize that my butt is sensitive and I’m trying to reconcile these two opposites.”
“It’s not a contest, there’s no time limit that decides whether you’ve won or lost. You’ll figure it out sooner or later.”
“I hate not knowing.”
“Small steps, Mindy. You’ll get there.”
“You said before that some of the girls you’d been with liked things in their butts. Did they say how they figured it out?”
“No, not that I remember. But now that I think of it, all of them had butt plugs and vibrators, and they said they used them when they were home alone.”
“I think I’d be afraid of trying a butt plug. I’ve seen a few pictures, but some of them look really big.”
“Some of them are. Not for beginners, for sure. But there are small ones, not much thicker than a thumb, that would be a good place to start. One of the women told me she’d started with one of the little silver torpedo vibrators and a lot of lube. Slipped right in, no problem.”
“Um, maybe. Still a bit scary. Look, I’ve been talking a lot and now I realize I’m tired. How ‘bout we rest for awhile?”
“Works for me.”
I remember hearing distant sounds, just idle chatter, doors closing, then there was a brief dream of a hula girl, her hips swaying and her naked boobs swinging slowly back and forth. Then I woke up, and it took me a moment to recall where I was, since it didn’t look like my room.
I looked to my left and saw Mindy on her side, still asleep, both hands under her head. That brought back a flood of memories of the past couple of hours which made me smile. And I realized where the hula girl dream had come from.
I liked her. She was smart and funny and open-minded, confident about her abilities, with a killer body. She had some self-doubt, sure, because she was still working on figuring out her life, but I respected that much more than those insufferable people with absolutely no doubt that they had all the answers.
I felt her stretch her leg beside me, and saw a shoulder twitch. She was waking up.
She rolled over slowly onto her back. After a moment she opened her eyes.
“Oh. You’re awake.”
“Just for a minute or two. I was worn out.”
“Are you recovered now?”
“Mostly, I guess.”
“I feel good, Carter, really relaxed. I’ve usually got some nervous tension in me -- it’s how my body reacts to school pressures, worries -- but not now. Can’t imagine how that happened.”
“One of life’s persistent mysteries.”
“What’d you think of that Truth Or Dare game? It seems people have had some really interesting experiences early on, it surprised me a little. I know Utica’s kind of a backwater as cities go, but I know for a fact that some of those folks at the party come from really small towns, rural even, and it was a surprise to hear what they got up to there.”
“I remember thinking,” I told her, “how varied their sex experiences were compared to mine or my friends’. I thought I’d had more than my share, but now I’m rethinking that.”
“Sometimes I feel like the latecomer to the party, like other have experienced all the fun before I ever got there.”
“Me, too. I was always jealous of the older kids, sometimes only a year or two older, who talked about all the things they’d done. I know a lot of it was bragging, making stuff up to seem more sophisticated, but even allowing for that they had way more experience than I had and I was more than a bit envious.”
“Oh, I know that feeling! I had this school friend, Irene, who was always a little more daring than the rest of us. We were about twelve or thirteen and she told us about letting this kid feel her up, even let him put his hand under her skirt at a party. I was both jealous and terrified. I was jealous that she got to experience that, and terrified that I wouldn’t be able to stop some guy from going even further if I let him. How old were you when you had your first real sexual experience?”
“Fifteen. It was a girl I’d known for a few years; we’d been on the same softball team as kids and I liked her, she was funny. When she turned fourteen she went almost overnight from a pigtailed tomboy to this gorgeous woman who made guys drool all over the floor in the halls between classes. She fell in with a clique of girls who ordained themselves as superior to others and kept to themselves.
“I’m not sure how this happened, but Melissa -- that was her name, Melissa -- decided that she was ready to experiment, to find out what sex felt like, to see if it was worth the aggravation that it seemed to cause for everybody, and she chose me as her lab partner! Considering that we hadn’t had much to do with each other since we played softball together as ten-year olds, I didn’t understand why she had picked me. When I asked her later, she said that I was the only one she knew who would be unlikely to go around bragging about it afterwards.”
“Did it fulfill her expectations?”
“She said it did. In fact, she said that she was amazed at how it made her feel and how much she liked sharing that feeling. By the way, she wasn’t on birth control and didn’t trust condoms, so her only rule was no vaginal sex. But she liked everything we did.”
“Good for her. I wish I’d had enough self-awareness to be able to organize that. So what’d you do if you couldn’t put your dick in her?”
“Well, we only had one day and part of another, so there wasn’t a lot of time. But we experimented with oral -- she’d never had anyone go down on her and was astounded to find that she loved it. And she gave me a blow job until I came in her mouth. I used my fingers on her and got her off several times. And once we tried anal.”
“Her first time, and she let you do her in the ass? You’re not making that up, are you?”
“No. It frightened her, but she decided she had to know what she liked and didn’t like, and things she wasn’t yet decided about. She found some lube in a drawer somewhere and once I’d opened her up with my fingers I pushed my dick in slowly. I’d given her a safe word and told her I’d stop if it was too much, but damned if she didn’t go through with it.”
“And...?”
“And what?”
“And did she like it?”
“Yes, at least to the extent that she didn’t hate it, it wasn’t really painful, and it may have actually gotten her off. It was uncomfortable at first, she said, but it got better and she got a rush from it.”
“And did you like it?”
“Like it? Jesus, it was amazing! I came so hard I almost fainted.”
“So did you ever get to have regular sex?”
“No. She moved away suddenly when her father got a job in California.” I thought Mindy didn’t need to know all the details about Melissa’s mother, and about us hooking up last year.
Mindy appeared to be thinking about something, her eyes wandering.
“Most everybody’s first time is a real disappointment,” she said. “At least among the people I’ve talked to. It’s always rushed, partly because you can only find a short time to be alone without being discovered, and partly because guys always cum so fast. So for most of us it’s like ‘Wait, what? What just happened?’ It’s over before most of us feel anything. Although, sometimes the first time is painful, so we remember that.
“It takes a few times before you can relax and try to get guys to slow down, to pay attention to the places that give us a buzz.”
“For guys it’s like a road race that you have to finish before you can be a member of the club. It doesn’t have to be a particularly well-run and athletic race, we just have to get to the finish line as fast as we can, so you can say to your friends, ‘Yeah, I finally did it.’ After that, we can slow down and focus on enjoying the next race, take our time getting to the finish line.”
“Not sure I like the analogy,” she said, “but I understand the point you’re trying to make.”
“How old were you for your first?”
“Sixteen. He was seventeen, a basketball player. It was in the back seat of his car and may have lasted two, two and a half minutes. It was as magical as it sounds.”
“I sometimes wonder why women decide to have sex a second time when their first is usually such a disappointment.”
“I think we all decide that there’s bound to be somebody who’s better than the first guy. Law of averages.”
“Well, thank God for the law of averages, then.”
“Anyway, I was making, in a roundabout way, a point about getting better at it so that it becomes something to look forward to, not something you have to put up with.”
“Is that what it was like, you were just putting up with it?” I asked her.
“Well, not exactly. The first few times were such a disappointment that I saw there was a discontinuity between what I was experiencing and what I thought might be possible, based on what we saw in videos and what we sometimes read about in magazines. It was like everybody else’s sex was way better than I was getting, so I just had to tough it out till I found some guy who knew what to do. Like you, Carter.”
“Are you telling me that you never had decent sex before?”
“No, not really, just that there were way more duds before we found the occasional stud.”
“‘Studs, not duds’. You should print up T-shirts.”
“Maybe later. It’s better now, I think. The duds eventually pick up some skills. Maybe their girlfriends take pity on them and give them lessons, tell ‘em what to do and what not to do. So most guys now are better than their counterparts in high school. Even though the bar is still pretty low.”
She wasn’t wrong. Most guys never improve that much, because they’re convinced that they’re the exception, the stud whom women love. I’m not sure why they’d think that, but fragile egos mostly prevent us from admitting that we could use some training.
She rolled back to face me. “I could have done without the nostalgia tour of our first times, but I suppose it’s worth reviewing every so often. If only to remind ourselves of how far we’ve come. You think you’re ready for round two?”
“I could be convinced.”
“That’s the kind of ‘can-do’ attitude I was looking for. How shall we start?”
“Almost anything will work, but I might like a little kissing first to ease our way into it.”
“That sounds like fun, fine with me.” So I rolled over on my side and got my lips onto hers and we played with each others’ tongues, while I explored her body with my free hand; my left was pinned under my body because of the position I was lying in.
After awhile I worked my way down onto her neck just under her ear, where there was a sensitive spot I’d noticed earlier, so I played with that for a bit until her respiration had quickened. I had my right hand wrapped around her left tit, squeezing it while I rolled the nipple between thumb and index finger, with the occasional pinch that elicited a whimper.
I couldn’t leave her right boob unattended, so I lowered my mouth to that and sucked on her nipple. She put both hands on the back of my head to hold me in place.
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