The Talent Agency
Copyright© 2025 by bpascal444
Chapter 29
Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 29 - 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 really couldn’t have done a round three, as much as I loved her body. She’d worn me out. The next time I awoke I could see daylight past the window shades. January 1st, and her parents would be back home in a few hours. And she’d be back to school in a few days.
I watched her sleeping for some minutes, my head resting on my hand, just memorizing details that I could recall when she was gone. She didn’t have a lot of freckles, but there were some. And I noticed for the first time that a particular section of freckled skin looked like an image of the Big Dipper. No one else would care about that, but I did because it was unique to her.
She must have sensed me watching her, because she twitched and started making involuntary movements, little stretches, a sigh. At some point she opened her eyes. She was facing away from me, but from above I could see her eyelid flutter open. She stared at the wall for a moment, then turned to face me.
“Oh! You’re awake. You startled me.”
“Not the reaction I was hoping for. I was anticipating you seeing me awake and saying, ‘Carter, I need your body right now!’”
“I’ll make a note for next time. Still a little tired yet. Sleep okay?”
“Oh, yeah, no problem. You’re the perfect sleeping pill. One taste of you before bed and I’m good for eight hours of uninterrupted sleep.”
“Finally. A purpose to my life. I think I might want to shower, though, then find something to eat. I’m hungry for some reason.”
“Can we shower together?”
“Last time it turned into a wrestling match.”
“Yeah, it did, one I’ll remember when I’m back at school.”
She snorted and got up. I wasn’t going to let her go off by herself, so I got up too. She grabbed her robe from the chair where she’d dropped it last night and slipped it on as she walked. I followed behind her, naked, like a slave. Which I kinda was, in a way.
She turned on the shower to warm it up, then looked in the mirror, running her fingers through her hair, probably deciding whether it needed to be washed, too.
She whipped the robe off and had it on a hook near the shower in a second, and stepped in. “You coming, or are you just going to hand me the towel when I’m done.”
Of course I was going in. I wasn’t going to miss the show. See, she thought of it as a shower, a necessary and utilitarian ritual to clean the body. I thought of it as a show, a burlesque for my benefit. She was really unaware of how sexy she was, even doing something as mundane as washing her foot.
She was letting the water flow over her body, her arms raised, and trying to avoid getting the water in her hair. Apparently she was going to wash it later.
She pivoted under the shower-head, and the water flowing down her body looked exactly like some of the pictorials I’d seen in Playboy and Penthouse. But way better.
As I stood there watching, my hard-on impossible to miss. She had her eyes closed and couldn’t see what she’d done to me. Finally, she said, “Okay, your turn. Where’s the soap? Oh, there.”
She edged past me, her boobs brushing against me and my stiffy slapping her hips as she moved past. I had to move, there wasn’t room for both of us unless I did. So I got under the water and let it run over me, getting in everywhere.
When I finally turned all the way around she was watching me, and her eyes dropped to my dick, pointing directly at her. She shook her head and smiled. “Here, take the soap,” she said.
I washed myself, at least the places I could reach. When she saw me stretching uncomfortably to get to my back, she reached out and took the soap from me. “Just stand there for a minute,” she instructed me. She rubbed my back with a washcloth, all the places I couldn’t get to.
“Wait, one more thing.” So I stood there, and in a moment I felt her soapy hands rubbing my ass. She squeezed and fondled, and I thought it wouldn’t take much more to get me off. She paused for a moment and I could hear her rubbing the soap on her hands, and a second later she was running three fingers down the crack of my ass.
“Oh, you bitch, that’s just mean, teasing me like that.”
“It’s just basic hygiene.” The other hand reached under and fondled my balls with soapy fingers. I couldn’t help myself. I said, “Oh, fuck.”
The hand that was grabbing my butt moved, slid down the crack, and she pushed a finger into my ass. Of course I groaned, who wouldn’t?
“Okay, I’m done. There’s clean towels in the linen closet.” She stepped out, leaving me there with my dick painfully erect. I thought for a moment about the etiquette of jerking off in someone else’s shower and decided it would be a faux pas.
I let the shower rinse off my butt, then turned it off. She was just slipping on her robe, having already toweled dry. She reached over to the built-in shelves that held towels and other bathroom necessities and passed a towel to me. I dried off, while she applied some kind of moisturizer to her hands and feet.
It was awkward drying my dick, because it was still sticking straight out. If it could pout, it would have. Karen was sitting on the closed toilet seat as she finished with her routine. She kept glancing over at me and my poor dick waving at everyone.
She gave a little shake of her head and sighed. “Come over here, Carter. A little closer.”
Apparently I wasn’t close enough, because she reached around to grab a butt cheek and pulled me closer to her. “That’ll work,” she said.
She leaned forward a few inches and wrapped her lips around my dick, which shouted “Hallelujah!” One hand reached underneath and cupped my balls, fondling them, while she see-sawed up and down on my cock, her tongue doing its little dance.
Jesus, I sometimes forgot how good she was at this. There was no self-consciousness about what she was doing. It had a purpose, not to tease, but to get me stiff and get me off. I was already stiff, so we were definitely well into Phase Two.
She’d told me about her first time giving head. Her cousins were the instigators, hanging out with some teenage guys who kept making oblique comments about how the girls were being cruel to toy with them and leave them in such a state. The cousins basically said, “Oh, all right, drop your trou,” and started in on them. Karen got dragged into it because she didn’t want to appear a naif to her cousins.
It was probably awkward the first time, but she was a fast learner, watching the cousins and picking up pointers by observation, and she mastered it quickly.
She’d gotten a lot better at it, learning how to get it in deep. That was partly my doing, giving her some assistance at suppressing her gag reflex and feeling some pleasure at taking it in so far.
Which she was doing now. She pulled off and looked up at me, so I’d know that the main course was about to be served. She opened her mouth, stuck out her tongue and pushed down onto my dick. When it reached her throat she just pushed through and I felt it slide in. Her lips were wrapped around the base of my cock, and I felt her tongue flicking out and just touch my scrotum.
“Oh, Jeeeeesuss, yes, baby, oh, fuck, yes!”
She moved in and out just an inch or so, my dick pushing into her throat each time, and each of those sent a pulse that pushed me closer to the edge. I knew I was babbling now, and I didn’t care, this felt so good.
But I also knew this was still a little uncomfortable for her, even if it didn’t make her gag. I hadn’t linkcast her any of the standard enhancements that improve the throating experience. But she was doing it for me anyway, bless her. It wouldn’t take much to get me off. I knew she’d get me there, but perhaps I should hurry it along.
I linkcast an ocean wave to myself, something I rarely did, and as soon as I did I felt my orgasm start to organize itself. I gasped out a warning to her and she pulled partly out so the tip of my cock was still in her mouth, fucking my dick with her mouth while the tongue teased the underside of my prick.
And there it was, boiling up. I grabbed her head with my hands without thinking and shouted something, and I was shooting into her mouth. I begged her not to stop, over and over, sounding like a spoiled child, but I was helpless to do anything else.
She kept doing that until it was so sensitive that I had to plead with her to stop, or at least stop the tongue.
When she finally pulled off, she looked up at me, licked her lips and swallowed so I could see it.
“Feeling better?” she inquired.
“As soon as I regain the ability to use my legs, I will do a little dance. Un-goddam-believable, baby. That was perfect. You can be a tease sometimes, but when it comes right down to the wire, you always do right by me.”
“And don’t you forget it. Why don’t you go get dressed? I’m going to brush my teeth.”
I only stumbled a little as I made my way back to the bedroom in my damp towel. I had packed a change of clothes, so I put those on as Karen came in and did the show for me where she began naked and applied layers of clothing, kind of a reverse strip-tease. I watched her, sitting on the bed.
“Let’s find some breakfast,” she said, “and think about cleaning up.”
I followed her down the stairs, trailing after her like a puppy. Right now I didn’t feel much different, that same blind adoration, willing to go wherever she decided to go. I was having a very hard time trying to think of something about her appearance, her personality, her mind that I would change if I could. She felt like such a perfect match for me, and I would have to hope that she didn’t tire of me before we could formalize this in some way.
“I don’t know, what are you in the mood for?” she asked, hands on her hips, thinking.
“I always fall back on the old standbys, eggs or cold cereal and milk.”
“Yeah, maybe not in the mood today. I usually have some fruit with toast, but ... Oh, hey, what about French toast? With some syrup? That might be the thing. Don’t know why that feels right today, but it does.”
“Actually, that sounds perfect. Can I help, or will I be in the way?”
“Suppose you make the coffee while I do the other stuff? It’ll save some time.”
We agreed and she pointed me to the coffee and the filters. I set to my task, but partway through it I stopped and listened. Was she humming? I turned to look. Her back was to me and she was humming. I didn’t recognize the tune but what surprised me was hearing her hum, which she’d never done in my presence before. What prompted that, I asked myself?
I turned the coffeemaker on and as she was still dipping the bread in the egg mixture, I pulled out some plates and silverware, whose location I remembered from prior visits. She murmured thanks as she watched the griddle.
Five minutes later it was ready and she put loaded plates on the table. Not to depart too far from her normal habits, she cut up some bananas, added some blueberries, and set them on the table.
“Okay,” she told me, “that doesn’t look too bad. Let’s eat.”
“Karen, what do you mean ‘doesn’t look too bad’, it looks fabulous. I’m going to feel guilty the next time I make myself a bowl of Frosted Flakes.”
“Aha! You’ve inadvertently stumbled on to my secret plan to modify your eating habits. I’ll have you eating healthier in no time.”
“Well, if healthy food tastes like this, count me in.”
Honestly, it was more breakfast than I usually ate, and it was just the right thing, as she’d said. I must have needed more food, for some reason, because I was feeling good by the time I finished.
As we cleaned up, she said, “After we put stuff away, let’s make the rounds, make sure you’ve got everything you came with. I need to strip my bed, put on clean sheets, you can help me with that. Oh, the towels should go in the wash, too. Then I’ll drive you home, like we were returning from Carly’s party. Where we had French toast for breakfast.”
“Okay.”
And in another forty minutes, we were standing by the garage door, coats on, taking one last glance around to make sure I’d missed nothing. I hadn’t, so into the car we went, and in ten minutes I was at the curb by my front door.
“I hate this part,” I said, “the part where I have to say goodbye and I won’t see you for months, but yesterday and last night were special. Somehow it felt different, better in some way, the way we related. I haven’t worked my way through it yet so that I know what it was, but it did feel better.”
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