The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Maybe I lost count, but I would swear that I came five times as Mira and I went at one another that Thursday night into Friday morning. My cock felt like she had caught and skinned it when I showered for work, and though it was a long and deliberately thorough shower, I couldn’t shake the belief that Mira-scent clung to me all day, like merging our bodies so many times had infused every bead of my perspiration with a few molecules of her juices.

I had a full slate of end-of-the-week clients, and found myself dragging through the morning hours from lack of sleep. I had Carlotta make a cappuccino run at eleven, and I caught a second wind by the early afternoon. Grace texted a dinner invitation in the middle of the afternoon, and I decided to accept. I thought of it as a kind of medical time-out, the recuperative calm for my fuck-sword before Mira and I would storm each other’s ramparts all weekend long.

I texted the news to Mira and received a quick answer back, that I shouldn’t order any dessert so I could meet her in my bed as soon as possible. She had to be sore like me, but the clock was ticking on Taylor’s return and she wanted all the Michael dick she could get.

Thus it was that over Thai appetizers at a favorite downtown hang-out, Grace leaned over the wooden tabletop of our booth and scrutinized my face, as if trying to divine clues from lines and pores like a palm-reader.

“You look different,” she said, sitting back.

“Different how?”

“Less tension around your mouth and eyes. I think I see extra confidence, or… Something significant has happened since we last got together.”

“It’s the hypnosis work,” I said truthfully. “Things are happening in my practice that I never imagined. I put out some feelers to have clients with physical issues referred to me, and that’s going great. Being able to help people to this degree with chronic pain, or severe addictions… I still have my clients with their more ordinary issues, and some of them are wrapping up to make room for this new crop.”

“What kinds of physical issues are you working with?”

“Eating disorders, issues with back pain and knee pain, even phantom limb pain… I’ve actually been amazed at what’s taking place.”

“So work is good.”

“It is. Also the weather’s been lovely. What’s not to like?”

She studied me. “No dates since Dee flew away?”

“No; there hasn’t been any time to think about that.” Not when I was working all day and fucking Mira all night.

Grace’s fingers absently drum-rolled the tabletop before she spoke again. “Lucinda reminded me that Miss Torso is all alone, her hubby do-gooding in Africa. I’ve thought of calling her, maybe having a drink together.”

“It could be dangerous, that much sexiness in a bar.”

“You’ve got that right. Just picture the two of us at a table in little fuck-me dresses, both of us flaunting our tits and Mira showing lots of thigh. If I deployed the nuclear option and went braless… We’d probably start a riot.”

“You sound ready to sell tickets. I might buy one, too.”

Grace tilted her head, regarding me. “Have you heard from Miss Torso ever since… Well, whatever that turned out to be?”

I immediately wanted to shift the subject, and thought I knew how. Something in Grace’s annunciation was off, making “turned” sound like “durned”, and “Miss Torso” sound like “Miss Dorso”.

“What’s the matter with the way you’re talking? Half of your ‘t’s sound like ‘d’s.”

“It’s my tongue.”

“Your dung?”

“Tongue! I swear it’s getting bigger, like a muscle that’s been pumped-up through too much exercise.”

“You should probably see a doctor if you suffer any worse dung drouble.”

Like a schoolyard kid, Grace stuck her tongue out at me, then annunciated in a faux British accent: “Tiny Todd Trotter, the terrible tyrant of Teetertown, took ten turquoise trinkets to Tarlton Towers. There; I’ve still got it, even if I am going to have the world’s strongest tongue in about a month. Which is all your fault, you know.”

“Say what?”

“It’s what you did to Lucinda. I swear that one session has tilted her towards everything I asked for, and more. She’s become relentless, wanting my tits so much that… I’m not complaining, mind you…”

“I should hope not. I can still barely believe you talked me into that.”

“And I’ll repay you, you just watch. I thought for a few days that I might have succeeded with Dee, but… Look, I hope that’s not a sore subject.”

“No, it’s okay. She was very special. Is special, but far away.”

“Special enough that it looks like she’s going to play the sexy android in some new streaming series. How much you wanna bet the term ‘boob-bot’ becomes all the rage?”

I pretended to already know what Grace was talking about. I probably had very recent texts from Dee that gave me this news, but going so hard at Mira meant I’d zoned on reading them.

I had to parry Grace’s attempts at getting me to open up about whether Dee and I would try to manage a long-distance thing or not. My current thinking was towards a definite no, now that Mira was in play. There were triggers in Dee that could have her running back fast, but I saw no advantage to pushing those buttons anytime soon.

“Rotten timing, huh?” Grace said. “I’m pretty sure Dee was getting into you.”

I shrugged and let out a theatrical sigh. “Maybe someone put a curse on me when it comes having an ordinary love life. It can’t be anything else, can it?”

Grace grinned a little wickedly. “I tried to get some juicy secrets out of her… She said you were ‘extremely ionate’, but beyond that she isn’t the gossiping type. So, if I’m going to hear anything from anyone…”

I was saved from having to make any comment by the arrival of our main courses.

Unwrapping chopsticks, Grace said, “That was your cue to tell me what it’s like to bang a woman with tits that big.”

“The food’s pretty spicy tonight, isn’t it? Different chef than the last time.”

She glowered. “Because I’ve never had a lover with tits bigger than mine, see? And sometimes a girl gets curious.”

I kept eating.

“Okay, moving on, sort of. At Lucinda’s party, you weren’t the only one who appreciated Dee’s rack. Want to know who else I saw gawking at her tits?”

“Taylor. He even commented to me that he thought Dee was lovely.”

“The good doctor has a perfect ’10’ for a wife, and after seeing the way his eyeballs were parked on Dee’s tits… Methinks he might have fallen for Mira’s boobs even more than her legs. Not that legs like those could ever be overlooked.”

I didn’t want us to be talking about Mira or her cuck of a husband, so I tacked back to Dee. “You won’t hear me condemning the good doctor’s behavior. Dee is probably going to make all the other androids feel envy for the first time.”

“So why give up on her? People who are destined for one another can get through long-distance situations like this. It can even be romantic, right? I’m thinking Sleepless In Seattle.”

“I don’t know, Grace. In many ways Dee was just about ideal, but now that she’s thousands of miles away, I can’t quite picture the two of us hanging in there long-term. No regrets; she was fabulous, but flighty.”

“Not on any flights at all without your help.”

“True. Anyway, maybe I learned with her that I’m not at all ready to settle down.”

“I hear you. I also think that when you said ‘just about ideal’, what you meant was ‘what a great set of bongos!’”

“I am not that shallow,” I said, intending to defend my honor for some stupid reason. Then I just shrugged. “When they’re that great, playing the bongos really is a lot of fun.”

“Ha! I know what you need in a woman now, and that means I think I know why you’re so willing to let bongos like Dee’s fly away.”

“Do enlighten me.”

“It’s also fitness, even muscles. Dee is fit, but not like Mira is, and not like Joyce was. So what I think is that the ideal woman for you—and I could say you’re shallow except that I completely sympathize—has the extreme fitness of someone like Mira or Joyce, but also over-the-top boobs like Dee.”

She was no doubt right on target.

“Lucinda would completely be your type if she had boobs like mine,” Grace said. “Actually, if her tits were anything like mine, I don’t know if it would have been safe to let you do your immersion thingie with her.”

“Oh, so you allowed that?”

“Little secret—Lucinda joked one time that if we did a threesome with you, it might work because she’d bring the dancer’s legs to the table. and I’d supply the can’t-miss boobs.” She smirked, then added, “At least I think she was joking.”

I had no idea what to do with that. My cock stirred, telling me it had heard every word, but my chopsticks-free hand gestured as if to clear the words from the air.

“So Michael, now I segue to this new candidate I’ve found for you. She’s even more fit than Lucinda, and when it comes to boobs… She would push every one of your buttons so hard. Although she lives out of town.”

“Oh no, not again. Another blind date in the works?”

“Hey, you said ‘oh no’ about meeting Dee, right? I’ve got you completely figured out, and this woman… Well, you’ll see if I can ever get her to visit.”

“Another actress friend?”

“No. I met her in a waiting room. We have the same therapist.”

“She lives in D.C.?”

“Or the suburbs somewhere. I don’t know too much about her so far. She’s an artist, or an art teacher, or both, and she’s freaking gorgeous, though petite. Make that short; I don’t know if you could say that anyone with a physique like hers is petite. Think She-Hulk without the height, and without the green skin.”

“Grace, that might be the worst physical description I’ve ever heard.”

“Accurate, though. She’s got this look, okay? Cute as get-all like the tastiest of all the high school cheerleaders, but she also looks like she could tear a phone book in half, and maybe even the phone booth she found it in.”

“Perhaps your metaphors are a bit out of date?”

“She could probably tear your laptop in half—satisfied? Point is, the woman has gazongas and looks like she was born and raised in a gym, and I’d do her in a second if I thought she could be into the fairer sex… And yes, those are words that should never have come out of my mouth, considering Lucinda.”

She sighed and I watched her chopsticks doing nifty things with noodles and tofu. “She must really be something,” I said, feeling absolutely no need to be set up on another blind date, but intrigued by the description.

Grace, nodded. “I swear her thighs and calves put even Lucinda’s to shame. The last time I saw her, it was raining. Off came her coat and she was wearing a silk sweater over watermelon-colored tights, and Lordy! If she had sent even a whiff of a signal…”

What Grace was saying had me wondering whether my immersion work with her, in relation to Lucinda, was fading. Really wanting to know, I asked.

She shook her head. “No, not fading at all. And Lucinda really did change, and maybe that’s had ripples, or repercussions. I’ve always been the randy one in a relationship, the one with the fire-alarm libido. We were imbalanced, you know? Noe she’s matched or even exceeded my drives, and when she’s all worked up… I love the screams; you know that. But the energy behind the screams…”

“What about it?” I asked, needing to know.

“Honestly? I think I’m jealous of it! I think if I could plug my girlfriend into a wall socket when she’s going at my boobs or I eat her out, we could start living off the grid!”

I laughed and motioned to the waitress for a second beer. It arrived quickly, and as I poured from bottle to glass I wondered if my immersion intervention from weeks ago had gone too far in upsetting the basic equation of their relationship. Grace had been more attracted to Lucinda than the other way around, and I had fixed that. But rather than equalizing things, had I created too much of a sexual addiction in Lucinda, plus orgasmic capacities that outmatched Grace’s by too many degrees?

“Is there something you want to tell me, Grace? Navigating these changes with Lucinda—is that why we’re here tonight?”

She shook her head no, but then slowly see-sawed into a maybe. “There’s something else. I think it started with this woman I want you to meet. Maybe that frightened me, how much I found myself desiring her. But then it’s become even more of an issue with someone else. It’s this other woman’s legs, thighs, just like always. Her boobs and overall vibe, too… There are things about her that snuck up on me, you know? Like I saw how fine she was, but with more exposure… I’m talking fine. And I can’t seem to help it; I find myself wanting her.”

Was I keeping track here? There was the woman that Grace wanted to set me up with, but then some other woman, too?

My friend stared at her beer, looking troubled. “I want to be satisfied with Lucinda. I am, only… This has to remain a secret, okay?”

“I promise.” I said, wondering what was coming.

Grace drank more before continuing. “I was not looking. I’m completely happy with Lucinda, thanks to you. But then, boom! Out of nowhere I feel like I could fall so easily for this someone else, even if I don’t want to be a cheat. I’m completely satisfied with Lucinda, I really am, yet I find that my eyes and loins are wandering, and… I just didn’t think that could happen!”

I knew Grace’s history, and moving from one lover to another was an obvious pattern. “You do have a habit of moving on to someone new,” I said, trying to be gentle and truthful at the same time.

She nodded in affirmation. “I don’t know how I’d ever be able to go on without Lucinda’s thighs. Seriously, I’m probably addicted them. And it’s mutual; you should see the predator she becomes when I thrust my tits in her face. Even so, intense as all that is…”

I leaned back, digesting all of this. I felt for my friend and for Lucinda, too, with immersion needs inside of her that were tied to Grace. What would happen to Lucinda if Grace eventually ditched her? Would she be haunted for the rest of her life, always feeling like Grace had been her ideal mate, tragically gone? Would I need to figure out some way to hypnotize Lucinda again, to undo some of what I’d done? Or hypnotize Grace again?

A shiver shot up my spine, connecting these same questions to Mira. I’d gone so much further with her, implanting a never-ending need for my cock. There was no off-ramp for Mira; I didn’t want there to be. But what about ten years from now? Or what if I wanted to move to London someday, or take a three-month vacation? Would Mira feel compelled to follow, because otherwise she’d fall apart?

This had me feeling happy that I’d gone so much easier on Dee. She had carried an intense fetish for hypnotic sex with her to the West Coast—and good luck with ever exercising that with someone else—but otherwise I’d arranged it so she could feel whatever was natural for her to feel. Unless, that is, I intervened and triggered her into uncontrollable cravings for my cock again.

Brakes—that was something I needed to think about more when gluing a woman’s sexual needs to my dick, and I may not have inserted enough of them inside of Mira. The only check on her behavior was that she wouldn’t flaunt her desires for others to see, especially Taylor. Otherwise, her sexual side was in a permanently dominant position in relation to me, with her need for my meat dialed to max.

Grace leaned towards me and spoke low. “I know what you’re thinking, and don’t let your imagination run away with this. You did not create a Frankenlover with what we did with Lucinda. And like I was saying, how could I ever be parted from those thighs? This other woman I have a thing for… There’s something about her that just gets to me, but she lives far away and I’m with Lucinda. So that’s settled.”

I was still a bit confused, but no point pushing. It was nothing new for Grace to have a wandering eye, and unless my special skills were needed for some clean-up work with Lucinda, my friend’s love life was ultimately none of my business.

“Michael? A delicate question here, okay?”

“Okay.”

“What you did for me, with Lucinda… Have you ever been tempted to try something similar for yourself?”

An instant of ice water ran through me, but then I relaxed. My misdeeds were untraceable; besides, I could easily bullshit my way through this.

“Grace, I can’t hypnotize myself.”

“Don’t play dumb with me. You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, but get real. I hypnotized Dee several times, and if I had even an ounce of temptation along those lines, do you believe I’d let a catch like that fly off to California?”

She studied me, then smiled. “What you mean is that you’d never let boobs like hers fly off to California.”

“Precisely my point.”

“No, I guess you wouldn’t. I just… Forget it, okay? Let’s get back to this other woman that I want you to meet. Her boobs might be even bigger than Dee’s, hard to say. She’s definitely not married, and I didn’t get the vibe that she’s in anything serious right now. I have this fantasy of getting her into a leather CatWoman suit and… Grrrr!”

I couldn’t help chuckling. “Grace, why do you feel the need to keep setting me up? I’m not lonely, I swear.”

“I can’t receive a gift like you gave me with Lucinda and just sit around, okay? It would fuck with my karma forever if I didn’t give back.”

“Your karma is golden already, for hooking me up with Dee. It’s not anyone’s fault that she got her big break about twenty minutes later. You can lay off with the matchmaking.”

“No, I can’t!” she snapped with surprising force. “If you could only see this woman I have in mind…”

“Show me her picture, then.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Come on, I don’t mean an autographed 8 x10. Her IG page, anything.”

“No good. I’ve looked. She doesn’t have any of that.”

“So she’s what, eighty years old? Even I have a Facebook page, though it’s purely professional and I only update it twice a year.”

“I it it is a mystery for a modern woman to look that great and not… Oh shit. Talk about great bodies I’d love to see in a CatWoman suit! Don’t look now but Miss Torso’s Mercedes just pulled up.”

I did look, turning my whole upper body to see what Grace saw, which was Mira in the parking area beeping her car locked.

I turned back around and my scalp felt all prickly when I heard the tinkle of bells from the door being opened. I couldn’t witness Mira’s entrance without making a point of turning to stare, so what I noticed was how other eyes in the restaurant got pulled in her direction, conversations paused. A young guy at the booth opposite ours even whispered a low, “Sheeeeeeit!” to his friend, nudging him to look.

Grace had her gaze on Mira, not me, when she said, “Don’t go all drama-queen when she sees us, which she will any second now.”

I knew the moment the two women acknowledged one another by the well-hello-there change in Grace’s expression. She made a gesture for Mira to come and visit us, then a nod which I interpreted as Mira indicating that she would, in a couple of minutes.

“Of all the Thai ts in all the towns in all the world,” I said, recalling one of the posters on Dee’s wall.

Grace whispered, “Could spicy food be the reason the woman gets better-looking every fucking day? That dress, those stockings… I swear, just ten minutes with my head between those thighs… I could turn her; I know I could.”

“Now, now, Grace. You already have a lovely dancer. Don’t start thinking about collecting an entire set.”

“You would not be able to stay so cool if you could see what… Oh fuck, oh fuck!”

“What?”

Grace dragged a claw-like hand down her face, pulling at her bottom eyelids. She leaned close again, whispering, “She just stood on tip-toe to point at something, and her calves flexing, and her tits… Oh be still my aching jay-jay!”

The guy at the opposite table was in the same kind of state.

“They’re beyond whiplash legs!” Grace said, shaking her head as if to clear it. “She’s paying now. Maybe you should take a long bathroom break or something?”

“I’ll be fine,” I replied calmly. Because I would be, with every expectation of having my hands and hard-on all over and between those much-ired legs within the next hour, and non-stop for the next couple of days.

I wasn’t worried that she would cause some kind of scene or give away where we were with each other; I believed in the hypnotic safeguards I’d placed in her psyche. But was this a true chance encounter, or a game she was playing? I suspected she had guessed where I would be, and she was making a move to get me home sooner so we could get to fucking sooner.

“Brace yourself; here she comes.”

I could track her age—and maybe even the shortness of her dress or skirt—from the directionality of multiple eyeballs. Grace stood and gave Mira air-kisses, whereas I remained seated. I turned my head—Mira’s legs were three feet away from me, and I would swear the restaurant’s walls had to feel some kind of physical pressure from having that much shapeliness standing inside them. She had them sheathed in patterned black stockings tonight, that I suspected would end in garters if she lifted her skirt an extra inch or two.

Mira said my name in greeting, and I nodded as if my dick weren’t aching under the table. Then, because I couldn’t help myself, I said, “You certainly look great tonight.”

For an instant I thought I saw the green of her eyes change color. It felt like if I had a sixth or seventh sense, I would be able to see energetic daggers of desire emanating from the center of her body, forged within the sexual core I had either created or made her cognizant of.

Both women remained standing, and for the next thirty seconds or so I could not prevent my eyes from repeatedly darting to Mira’s legs in the black stockings. I had told her how much I loved her legs in black, so this choice was anything but accidental. I noted, too, how other people at other booths were sneaking glances at her body, or just outright ogling. I had rarely been around the woman in a casual setting, and the reactions of strangers were pretty much as I would have guessed—she was just so conspicuously gorgeous that she caused a stir.

I lost track of what she and Grace were chatting about, maybe Lucinda. Then, Mira addressed me. “You don’t need to be a total stranger, Michael. I don’t bite. I never did.”

I wanted to laugh. Part of it was that Mira had indeed lightly bitten into my cock the night before, in a way that was rather delicious. But it was the acting performance that was the most amusing, because I could see the wanting that was trying to be erased from her expression. I would swear that in a language my cock could easily understand, the woman’s pussy was silently instructing me to get the fuck home for some scalding sex.

We had two full days in front of us, possibly the longest stretch of uninterrupted time we’d ever get, and she was right—it would be plain stupid to squander any more of this chance.

“My order is probably ready now,” Mira said. “I got enough that I can spend the whole weekend inside if I want.”

She waved us a little good-bye, and as she retreated, Grace’s gaze never left Mira’s legs. Someone elsewhere in the restaurant groaned—because of Mira? A few seconds later I heard the bells tinkling at the door, and it was like the entire restaurant could breathe a little easier.

“That body!” Grace sighed, slipping back into her seat. “It’s like she’s sexual C-4, only I’d do the exploding if I ever—”

“I think every eyeball in this t was marveling at her.”

“Including yours.”

I shrugged. “I wanted to bone Mira Cassidy the moment I first set eyes on her, mostly because I have a pulse and a dick. I’ve learned my lesson, though. It’s painful wanting someone that much and not being able to have them.”

“I really do need to get Julia down here.”

I tilted my head like a dog hearing an unknown instruction. “Julia? What are you talking about?”

“Julia Hantz, the artist/big-tits muscle-machine I want you to meet. After fantasizing about someone like Mira, then having a dish like Triple Dee snatched away from you… I mean, I applaud you for managing to be calm with Miss Torso’s torso only two feet away from your face, but… You know, she barely looked at you, like… You two aren’t enemies now, are you?”

“I certainly hope not.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t know. I guess things are better between us.”

Grace began to smile, a little wickedly it seemed. “Wait one minute. Your stony expression, her studied indifference… I’ll just bet that things got wetter between you, somewhere along the way.”

“I said ‘better’, Grace.”

She leaned back, arms crossed under her boobs. It didn’t seem intentional at all, but when Grace did that… Damn.

She was slowly shaking her head. “Because I am such a good friend, I won’t ask point-blank whether you ever managed to shove your stove-pipe up Miss Torso’s chimney. But I will remind you, in the spirit of true friendship, that she and her husband run in very high circles among people with a great deal of influence in this city. You’re a respected psychologist, and it might traumatize me if I saw your picture on the late night local news, the therapist who couldn’t keep his rooster in its pen. Your whole professional life is built upon a pillar of trust, and if you were to lose that trust—”

Her pronunciation issue was back. “Drust? What’s drust?”

Her eyes flashed with anger, and then it was gone, or the actress in her made it appear to be gone. “Not that I could blame you, alright? Mira is to sex-appeal what Bigfoot is to… Well, to feet. But why am I wasting my breath? I’ve already concluded that you are one of those people who will never heed the advice of others.”

I raised a finger intending to protest, but I didn’t have the fire to continue. All she was doing was trying to be helpful.

“I am going to get Julia down here,” she said, lightly slapping the tabletop with the flat of her hand. “Don’t know how, don’t know when, but if I call or text you and I say, ‘Come quick, Julia is here!’, you get your ass to wherever I say in the next ten minutes.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“I have a nickname for her already. Want to hear it?”

I shrugged again, knowing it couldn’t be stopped.

“It’s Rule-ya, which in your case means that if she wanted to, she’d rule over your thing in an instant. Julia Hantz—her full name in my book is Rule-ya Pants.”

I groaned.

“Oh yeah? Just wait ’til you see her.”

Mira had complete dominion over my thing about thirty minutes later, using those same patterned nylons to drive me insane.

“You couldn’t stop staring at my legs back there,” were the first words she said, sinuously wrapping herself around me the moment I entered my home.

Kissing her neck and inhaling her scent, I said, “You were seducing an entire restaurant with them.”

“Everyone else was collateral damage,” came her reply, a hand slipping inside my pants.

She gasped when she made with hard hot meat—I could always count on Mira to make some kind of sound or theatrical expression when she first saw or touched my erection. I thought she would lower my pants and take my cock out and she did, but then she jumped up with her legs wrapped around my back, sending me careening backwards.

“Take my weight,” she instructed, giving me little choice but to grip her ass, pressing my back against the closed front door.

She extended her legs up and out at circus angles, grabbing my cock and abruptly stuffing it inside her. I grunted and it was a sound of wonderment; there was just something about the texture and fit inside of this woman that got to me every time.

We were face to face until she grasped my arms and used them to lean back in a seemingly impossible way, the muscles of her waist flexing. With my back arched for balance I moved slowly within her, turning my head to view the astounding extension of her left leg; the woman didn’t even have to think about it to arch her feet with professional grace, all of her leg muscles taut. Though we barely moved at first, this was dancer sex, Mira’s supple strength demanding an athletic response from me in return, enough to partner with her in a way that few human beings would ever get to experience.

I moved inside her and she made soft delirious sounds that began to gain form, becoming a kind of mumble or chant of, “I need this cock, drive me insane with your cock…”

I wasn’t given any choice as she did something with her weight that had my arms straining, her upper body swinging away from me only to collide back in with real force. We both outright shouted from the pleasure—this was pendulum-like genital impaling, Mira repeating the motion so she kept gliding out and slam back along the length of me. I opened my mouth to tell her that I couldn’t take much more without blowing my load, or that the door might crack apart behind me. But she slammed in even faster and then we were both spasming, a hot flood bathing my dick as I groaned my release.

I couldn’t really say how we got there, but a few minutes later we were curled together by the front door like dogs awaiting the arrival of our master. My cock felt completely drained, aching in a way that had me wondering if it could ever recover. I had a hand on her ass and I felt along its curvature, then down to a thigh. I loved being right against Mira like this, but I also missed having a view of her legs.

Time ed with no need for words. Then, “I’ve made a mental checklist of all the ways I intend to go at you this weekend,” Mira whispered, coming to a standing position so her nylon-clad legs were right in front of my face. She made her calves flex, their shape flaring, and repeated the action so it was like her legs could dance without even needing to move.

“Next, you get one of my specialties, an excruciatingly targeted nylon-job.”

Great, because I was so fucking hard again.