From louvre@dido.fa.indiana.eduFri Nov 10 11:21:40 1995 Date: Fri, 10 Nov 1995 12:08:11 -0500 From: The Louvre To: orelious@ICSI.Net Subject: Re: request (auto response) TRANCES -- part 4 by Michael K. Smith I went home for the summer after my third year of college with the satisfaction of a 3.8 GPA and a notification letter in my pocket that I had been awarded a full scholarship for my senior year, including room and board. I wouldn't have to find a summer job that year, except perhaps for a little extra pocket money. I made do with a moped instead of a car anyway, and most of my spare cash went for books rather than fancy clothes or expensive dates. On the recommendation of my faculty advisor, I had put together an extensive reading list that I had to try to get through before beginning my senior thesis, so I was expecting to spend much of the ten weeks sprawled in an easy chair with a good reading lamp nearby. But I wasn't going to ignore my social life -- or my particular physical needs. I'd been home about a week before I got around to calling my old high school friend, Jeff. We weren't exactly blood brothers, but we had always gotten together during vacations and we sent each other oddball Christmas cards and such. It was his brother, Edward, who had gotten me started with hypnosis. Edward was in med school now, on his way to full shrink-hood. I had just about decided not to pursue an actual medical career -- or not an M.D., anyway. The prospect of still being in school when I was thirty was not appealing. But psychological counseling on the strength of a master's degree was a real possibility. Jeff was three years into a political science degree and was trolling for a position in some congressman's office after graduation. We sat out on his big, screened-in back porch, drinking cokes, comparing college experiences, and laughing as we thought up insane career ideas. We were joking about going into business together -- he could select political candidates and I could brainwash them -- when I became aware that someone was watching me. I leaned back in my pine rocker and looked over my shoulder. A dim shape, young and female, stood inside the screen door. I smiled and Sharon gave up her attempt at concealment and opened the screen. She was barefoot and long-legged in her cutoffs and French-style T-shirt. If I'd had any doubts about the efficacy of the long-term suggestions I'd planted in this girl's mind last Christmas, all it took was one glance at her face to know I'd been successful. Little Sharon's hot, smoky stare made me begin to sweat. "Hi, sis," Jeff said. "Listen, while you're up, would you mind getting us a couple more cokes?" He was being perfectly friendly, not demanding, but Sharon quietly replied "Get 'em yourself, man," ... and her eyes never left my face. I shot a quick glance at Jeff, who seemed nonplussed. I said, "Sharon, would you mind very much getting us a couple of cold cokes?" She broke into a brilliant smile. "Sure! Just a sec...!" And she was headed for the kitchen. I turned back to Jeff and his dumbfounded stare. His eyebrows were crowding his hairline. "What was *that* all about?!" he exclaimed. I smiled lazily. "I think your kid sister has a crush on me." "On you? Why?" "Why not?" I replied. "Maybe she's dazzled by my obvious sex appeal." "Hell, she won't even be fifteen for another month!" he exploded. "How would she even know you, anyway?" "Well, she's known me as long as *you* have, actually. Just in the background. Come to think of it -- how much older is your father than your mother?" "About seven years," he said. "But--" "That's more than the difference between my age and Sharon's," I said quietly. It was kind of fun watching ol' Jeff's blood pressure rise. "But Mom was already out of college when she met Dad! It's completely different!" "Calm down, already. I didn't say I was going to take her to a motel, did I?" His eyebrows came down fast. "Hey, now-- She's my *sister*, man...." "Jeff, don't you think some of the girls *you* try to get into bed have older brothers who are just as protective as you are?" "Well,...." He couldn't think of a retort and Sharon banged through the screen door at that moment, a coke in either hand. Jeff looked in her direction and shut up. "Thanks very much, Sharon," I said as she handed me both bottles. I passed one to Jeff, whose gaze was flicking from his sister's face to mine and back. "Well, just watch it," he muttered at me under his breath. When I got up to leave a half-hour later, I'd mollified Jeff at least to the point where he'd decided his sister's adolescent crush did not indicate an imminent elopement. Sharon disappeared about that point, too. I figured I'd have to wait until she called me, since calling her would only arouse her brother's suspicions again. But she was way ahead of me. As I pulled away from the curb in my father's borrowed car, I was startled by a movement in the rear view mirror, followed immediately by a breathy "Hi!" close to my ear. Sharon glanced out the back window and clambered over into the front seat. "A stowaway, huh?" I returned her conspiratorial grin. "Yeah -- I didn't know when I'd get the chance to talk to you again." "And what did you want to talk about, sweetheart?" She hesitated, licked her lips, and took a deep breath. "I'm,... I'm in love. With you." She looked a little apprehensive. I decided to continue to play the game awhile longer. "Why do you think that, Sharon?" I smiled at her encouragingly. "Well,... I think about you all the time." Her hand touched my shoulder and she scooted closer on the seat. "I imagine all kinds of things about us. About--" She glanced at my lap. I very gently stroked her thigh and her breath caught again. "About making out with you," she finished in a rush. "And, uh, other things...." She blushed, just a little. "And it's always you -- never any of the guys I know from school. Maybe they're just too young for me." Sharon was sitting sideways on the car seat, one leg folded neatly beneath the other. Her knee overlapped my thigh and I continued to stroke her silky tan. Her hand had moved to the back of my neck and her slender fingers twined nervously in my hair. She was putting out more heat than a barbecue pit. I had slowed down as I reached the end of her block and now I turned the corner and stopped at the curb, out of sight of her house. I set the brake and turned to face her; she seemed a bit unsure of herself, probably worried I was going to tell her to run along and grow up. But I took her other hand and held it firmly; when I smiled back at her, she sighed happily and tried to shift even closer. "Sharon, could you get away to see me without your parents or your brother knowing about it?" "Yeah, I think so...!" She was all bouncy eagerness now. "My friend, Marilyn? I told her I had a secret boyfriend--" (She shot me an apologetic smile) "--who was older and had a car, and my parents wouldn't approve." She sure had *that* right. "Marilyn thinks it's all too romantic! If I tell my parents I'm sleeping over at her house, she'll cover for me. She has her own phone," she added. "Okay, then why don't you make arrangements with Marilyn for this Friday night, sweetheart? And I'll organize us a place to go where we can be alone, okay? Oh -- one other thing." I squeezed her hand and she gave me her full attention. "Dive, Sharon, dive." It had been six months, but she slipped effortlessly into a deep trance. "Sharon, it's Wednesday now. Tonight and tomorrow night, you will think about me when you go to bed -- even more than usual. Then you will masturbate and imagine it's my hand instead of your own, and that thought will make you even hornier. Over the next two days, your breasts -- especially your nipples -- and your cunt will become more and more sensitive, they will tingle almost continually, and that will make you think constantly about sex and about me. You'll become more and more aroused in anticipation of our date -- and you will enjoy those sensations very much, won't you, Sharon?" A light flush was already rising around her delicate collarbone. Holding her hot gaze, I reached out and brushed her nipple through her shirt with one finger. She twitched with pleasure and arched her back for me. "Sharon, when you come out of your trance, you will feel an enormous desire to kiss me. You *need* to kiss me before you get out of the car, don't you?" "Oh, I want so much to kiss you," she replied breathlessly. I brought her out of it and almost immediately she hopped up on her knees, above me now, and set her elbows carefully on my shoulders. I leaned back, letting my hands slide up and down the backs of her thighs. She hummed softly in her throat as her mouth swooped down on mine. For fourteen years old, little Sharon had a natural talent for lip-work. She twisted her fingers in my hair and made exciting little sounds as she ground her mouth against mine. Her tongue darted in and out and I found it hard to remember that she was supposed to be an inexperienced kid. When she relented a few minutes later, my ears were ringing and I knew I had left finger marks on the backs of her thighs. I was looking forward to Friday night almost as much as Sharon was. Then she was out of the car and jogging barefoot toward the mouth of the alley that would take her back to her house. We hadn't even firmed up the arrangements for our date. On Thursday, when I got home from an afternoon workout at the pool, my mother was muttering under her breath because some unknown person had called twice and hung up when she answered. The next time the phone rang, half an hour later, I grabbed it myself on the upstairs extension. In response to my "Hello?" there was a breathy pause and then a whispered "I just had to hear your voice. Please don't be mad at me...." "I'm not mad at you, Sharon, but you might get in trouble if you keep calling like this." I kept my voice low and one eye on the door; my mother wouldn't understand this conversation. "Just think about what you and I might be doing tomorrow night, okay? Tell me what you think is going to happen, Sharon. Describe it to me." I could hear her take a long breath. "I'm going to hold your penis in my hand. Maybe I'll lick it and put it in my mouth -- and you'll put your finger in my pussy and get me hot. Oh, God...." She was breathing faster. "That's not all I'm going to put in your sweet pussy," I whispered back. Little Sharon was doing things to me. And the only response I got was a throaty murmur. "I'll see you tomorrow night," I said. "Yes, you sure will -- all of me, I'll bet!" She throttled a giggle. "Pick me up at eight o'clock at the end of the alley where I got out." And the receiver clicked. When I pulled up to the curb at 8:02, Sharon was out of the shadows and into the car with a pink gym bag before the wheels stopped rolling. She was wearing dark jeans and a dark sweatshirt, and she sank down on the floor, out of sight, though there wasn't much chance of her being seen. If she wanted to make a romantic intrigue out of this, that was okay with me. Then she got my attention by slipping her warm, slender hand up inside the leg of my jeans. "Where are we going?" she asked. I'd been working on that problem since Wednesday. I certainly couldn't take her home. A nice hotel cost far too much and was much too public, especially for an assignation with a girl as obviously underage as Sharon. And a cheap motel, the kind of place that would ignore her age, was a good place to get ripped off. But by calling around among a number of old acquaintances, I'd finally found a solution. A guy named John Alexander, one of "the gang" in high school and that first year at the junior college, was still single and was now earning a comfortable living selling some sort of electronic equipment to big corporations. He was frequently on the road, either making a pitch or working a sales show at some convention center. He'd been known to lend his rented town house to friends, and this was one of those occasions. He'd left that morning on an out-of-town weekend trip and I now had his door key and his cheerful "Poke her one for me!" John was an unusually trusting guy, especially for a salesman, but so far no one had trashed his place, or annoyed the neighbors, or caused the cops to visit. I intended to be as invisible as possible. There was a spot in the complex's parking lot right in front of the town house door, so I got out and unlocked the place -- and Sharon scuttled in as though the police were right behind her. I looked around as I shot the deadbolt and flicked on a lamp. It was a typical bachelor pad -- lots of leather (well, naugahyde) and tweed upholstery, brass lamps on the oak end tables, and a massive liquor cabinet in the place of honor opposite the front door. I didn't really notice the stereo system at first because it was spread all across one wall, woven in amongst the bookcases. Each of John's speakers was the size of my dresser in the dorm. The small kitchen was full of food processors and other high-tech appliances. Sharon was already hurrying upstairs to check out the bedroom. I heard a smothered squeal of delight and the exclamation "There's a waterbed!" I followed her up the carpeted stairs, smiling at her enthusiasm. She was lying spreadeagled in the master bedroom, pumping and flexing her lithe body to make waves in the bed. Her face was an appealing mix of fourteen-year-old shyness and very grown-up sexual hunger. But I wasn't in any hurry -- yet. "Sharon, why don't we go back downstairs and try out that fancy sound system? This is supposed to be a real date and I'd like to find out what kind of dancer you are." She thumped back down the treads ahead of me and had pulled out some CDs by the time I caught up. I hadn't heard of any of the groups but they didn't look like the sort of thing anyone could dance to at under 40mph. Fortunately, John was also an 'oldies' fan and I found a number of slow-dance tunes that I knew I could handle and that Sharon might enjoy being romanced to. She was a little hesitant, though. "I'm not very good at old-fashioned dancing...." Old-fashioned? "Come on, sweetheart, it's easy -- nice, too." I loaded up The Belmonts and The Platters and slipped my arms around her slender waist. She immediately crossed her wrists behind my neck and moved up as close as she could without actually climbing inside my clothes. I gave her a quick kiss and tucked her head on my shoulder; she hung on like we were in free fall. I had to admit, it was very nice moving slowly around the room with a hot young thing like Sharon in my arms. I didn't delude myself about my preference for young -- or young-looking -- girls. I liked them sweet and slender, inexperienced and eager, fresh and filled with curiosity. Dancing like this was delightful,... even if I hadn't had sex on my mind. Her nose nuzzled my ear, giving me fleeting chills. When I was her age, I had been only casually interested in girls. My first kiss had been awkward and I hadn't known what to do with my nose. If someone like little Sharon had turned her blowtorch on me back then, I probably would have fainted. I had begun to understand why teenage girls often were attracted to slightly older, more experienced guys. Perhaps I still hadn't persuaded a hypnotic subject to do something against her nature; perhaps this was what Sharon had subconsciously yearned for. But that certainly wasn't going to keep me from enjoying myself tonight. My hands slid across Sharon's firm little ass and she strained her hips closer to me. A small whimper escaped her lips as I tucked my fingers in her back pockets and she tried to burrow even closer. After a moment, she moaned in frustration and clamped her mouth to mine. She clutched the back of my head and her tongue assaulted my front teeth. I moved up under the back of her sweatshirt and counted the knobs of her vertebrae. Sharon pushed herself away with a gasp and feverishly hauled her shirt off over her head. She fumbled with the front clasp of her bra and then her small breasts sprang free, nipples pointing over my shoulders. When my hands covered them, I loved the touch of their smooth surfaces and the silky down under my fingers. Her nipples were as stiff and resilient as rubber and when I pinched them lightly her hands grabbed hard at my forearms and she inhaled sharply. Then I had her jeans unbuttoned and unzipped and she moved back and pushed them down, kicked off her loafers, and stepped out of them. She reached for the elastic of her thin white cotton panties but I pushed her hands away and knelt; I had been looking forward to doing this myself. When I poked my tongue in her navel, her stomach muscles fluttered and she choked down a nervous laugh. I eased the elastic slowly over her hips and she seized my hair and moaned louder than before. The curls of her wispy pubic hair rose into view and I combed them between my teeth. Then her panties were down and as they fell to the floor she quickly stepped out of them. I stuck my tongue into her crevice as far as I could and she jittered and pushed her crotch forward. Spreading her moist labia with my fingertips, I was able to get my mouth as far as the top of her clit. Her stomach muscles shuddered again and she tried to spread her thighs and bend her knees without falling down. Then I stood and swiftly clutched her buttocks, lifting her off her feet. She squeaked and then giggled as she wrapped her long legs around my hips and hung onto my neck. I walked the six feet to the couch and laid Sharon out on it like a banquet. As I straightened and began unbuttoning my shirt, she struck a seductive, sprawling pose -- shoulders back and tits out-thrust, spine arched, toes together and pointed. She must have been studying PENTHOUSE. Her tongue glided slowly across her upper lip. "Go ahead and start without me, Sharon. I'll be able to catch up... and you already know I like to watch." She grinned and spread her knees so I could observe her middle finger disappearing from view. My shirt was off and my jeans pushed to the floor in a hurry. Sharon stared hotly at my rising cock for a moment, then reached up and wrapped her free hand around it. She squeezed a little and pulled it closer; I had to move quickly to keep from tripping over my pants, but I finally pushed my shoes off and worked my feet free. Then I knelt again, grabbed Sharon's hips, and swiveled her around to face me. She was still on her back, ass off the edge of the couch, and I hunkered down between her legs and pushed her thighs back and farther apart. Her pretty little cunt opened like a pink flower spreading its petals, and as I buried my face in it she jerked her head back and grabbed the sides of the cushions. I had muff-dived on several girls and had thoroughly enjoyed it -- and so had they. But this was different. For one thing, Sharon had almost no "muff" to speak of; the soft strands bordering her cunt didn't conceal a thing. For another,... well, it may simply have been her youth, but the taste of her was exquisite -- sweet and light and fragrant, and definitely heady. So I continued to lap at her pussy, sucking on her clit and swishing my tongue around inside until it became obvious, from her sobs and moans, that she was on the edge of both orgasm and hysteria. I pushed my nose between her labia, shook my head, and growled into her depths -- and she squealed "Oh, Jesus!" and trembled like an aspen in the wind. When her spasms passed, I straightened up to see tears running down her flushed cheeks as she panted for breath. Sharon let her legs drop loosely in temporary exhaustion and held her arms out to me. I bent over her sweating body and slid my forearms under her shoulders, lifting her up to me, and kissed her long and thoroughly. "What did you do to me?" she asked hoarsely when we came up for air and she put her cheek against mine. "I didn't know it was possible to feel like that, especially without..." She continued to breath heavily. "...without fucking?" I finished for her. Her grip tightened and I felt her head nod. I put my hand between her legs and began sliding it along her hot, wet crevice. Her response was to gasp in my ear and clutch spastically at my ribs with her knees. "Oh,... oh, yes,... please -- please do it.... God, fuck me!" she moaned, and her body began to thrash about once more. My cock resembled a heat-seeking missile aimed at the cross-hairs of little Sharon's crotch. But I didn't want to waste this moment crawling around on a naugahyde couch. I stood and held out my hands. "C'mon, sweetheart -- this requires a proper bed." She sat up, which put her eye-to-eye with my anxious cock. She took hold of it and stroked me slowly a few times, then swallowed and opened her mouth. It was obvious she wanted to suck my cock -- or thought she should, anyway -- but she had no idea how to go about it. I could have instructed her, and on another occasion I just might, but it would take some time and would certainly destroy the mood right now. Also, I found my patience had vanished. I leaned over to where my jeans were heaped on the carpet and rummaged in the pocket. "Not this time," I said softly and pulled her to her feet. "I can't wait to make love to you for real." She seemed to go boneless as I bent and lifted her in my arms and climbed the stairs again with no effort. Her arms were wrapped tightly around my neck and she was gnawing at my ear lobe. Then she was lying in the middle of that big bed, arms and legs writhing restlessly. I sat on the edge of the frame and displayed the foil packet in my hand. "You want to *always* use one of these, sweetheart. You don't want to get pregnant and you don't want to pick up the results of someone else's indiscretion." She nodded solemnly and watched as I unrolled the condom over my almost painful erection. As I crawled onto the mattress, Sharon spread herself like a starfish as she had earlier, and this time I was ready. She curled her ass upward as I pressed against her virginal opening and I was a little surprised at the ease with which she accepted me. She smiled at my expression. "The doctor said I broke my hymen a couple years ago when I started my periods and began using Tampax. It doesn't hurt at all, but it feels so wonderfully *big*...." I pistoned in and out a few times slowly and carefully, spreading her plentiful lubrication and settling myself. Then I hooked her trim ankles over my shoulders and folded her neatly in half, knees pressed against her collarbone. That gave me the deepest penetration and I strained to fill her as full as possible. She worked her vaginal muscles, perhaps instinctively, and the effect in that warm snugness was like a python swallowing a rabbit. I leaned forward to get the maximum friction against her clit and started drilling for oil. The surf we churned up in the waterbed helped. Within a minute, Sharon's eyes were squeezed shut as her hands wandered over the backs of her thighs and her own upturned ass. My pumping forced a series of breathy moans from her. She was transported and she was taking me along for the ride. Several times I felt myself approaching a climax and backed away from the brink, willing myself to extend the pleasurable assault. All my senses were open and when I knew she was headed for her second orgasm I speeded up and gave her a push. Her whole body tensed and quivered as she fell over the edge, and I was only fifteen seconds behind her. It had been several months since I'd screwed a girl in cold blood, so to speak -- especially with the luxury of a real bed and private surroundings. As I finished emptying myself into her, Sharon began to relax. She favored me with a sweet, dreamy smile and urged me down to kiss her. I settled my full weight carefully on her, partly because my arms were shaking and partly because I simply wanted to cover her with my body. "Mmmm,... you feel hot to the touch -- like an electric blanket," she murmured. "A *heavy* electric blanket." I pushed her legs together and straddled them, taking some of my weight on my knees and elbows. That also pushed my retreating cock out of her, but that was okay -- it felt like it needed to step out for a smoke anyway. I gently kissed her eyelids and her nose and her lips. I hadn't planned this feeling of affection toward Sharon, though I liked her well enough. She was such a scrumptious little thing, I couldn't help it. Perhaps that emotion communicated itself to Sharon because she finally took a deep breath and said, "I wasn't going to ask this -- I swear I wasn't. But, do you-- well,... do you love me? Even a little?" She immediately covered her face with her hands. "God, I'm sorry!" she wailed. "Why can't I keep my mouth shut?" I slid off of her and peeled off the condom. I propped my head up on my fist while I stroked her succulent breasts and thought about her question. Kathy had been physically and emotionally addicted to me because I had set it up that way -- but she hadn't been "in love" with me, not exactly. She was old enough to have had several crushes and been devoted to at least a couple of boyfriends. But I had deliberately played on Sharon's adolescent romanticism, her need to be "in love," and she was responding *too* well. For whatever reason (maybe even my conscience), I wanted to try to explain her own feelings to her without resorting to hypnosis, if that was possible. "Sweetheart," I wonder if you and I mean the same thing when we talk about 'love'. Are you thinking about marriage and a family?" I smiled at her blank expression. "I love you for what you are, Sharon -- a sweet, beautiful fourteen-year-old girl. I imagine you'll fall in love at least a couple of times before you find the guy you want to marry. If we were to meet again in, say, eight or ten years,... well, who knows?" The way she looked at me, she was steeling herself against an unbearable rejection. Damn. I was going to have to fix this on a deeper level. "Dive, Sharon, dive." Her face cleared and she smiled warmly. "Sharon, you're no longer a virgin now -- you're a woman. You will come to realize, over the next few weeks, that there is a difference between casual love with sex-for-fun and the kind of deep, serious love you come to feel for someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. You must not be afraid of either kind of love, do you understand? It's natural to feel loving and affectionate toward someone you're also physically attracted to, but you know, don't you, that that's not the same as 'capital-L' love?" She nodded with a calm, thoughtful look. I was still caressing her and when my fingertips passed over her still- rigid nipple, she twitched. "Sharon, tell me what you felt when we were fucking -- and how do you feel right now? How do you feel about sex?" "Oh, God,..." Her eyes glowed. "I could feel your penis moving in there, way deep inside, and it felt so strange -- but it felt really great, too! My clit felt as big as my thumb, and I wanted to come so badly,... but at the same time, I *didn't* want to come. I just wanted to go on feeling you rubbing me with your cock so I could get more and more excited. I didn't want to come for *hours* yet -- but when I did, and then you came inside me,... wow! It was like being shot full of electricity!" She paused and I could see her mind replaying very recent events. "I think, when you pushed my legs back -- well, it left me wide open, you know? Sort of helpless, I guess, like you could do whatever you wanted to me. I mean, I could feel the sweat running down into,... into my asshole." Her face was heating up again. "But I knew you wouldn't hurt me so I didn't mind. In fact, it was really sexy and you went in really deep. Jesus...." "And how do you feel about sex now, Sharon?" "I love it! I want to do it again, a lot more times!" She flashed me the lustiest grin I'd ever seen on a girl her age. And I'd never actually fucked a girl while she was in a trance.... "Okay, Sharon, let's do it again, shall we? You will stay in your trance and you will react to everything I do in the freest, most uninhibited way you can imagine, won't you? You feel even more adventurous about sex than you did before, don't you? Let you hands, your whole body, do whatever it wants, let yourself experiment, okay? You know I won't do anything to hurt you, don't you? You feel a tingling in your cunt, Sharon, you're beginning to feel really sexy again, really heated up. Just turn yourself loose, sweetheart." It was like I'd been ambushed by a jaguar. Sharon rose up, bright-eyed, and threw herself on me, grabbing my hand and urging it toward her crotch as she flung one leg over my hip. The anxious mewing sounds she made as she scattered hot kisses across my chest were certainly arousing. She strained against me, digging her nipples into my flesh. She reached back with her other hand, trying to skewer herself on my cock. It was a delightful bit of wish-fulfillment, but Sharon was stronger than she looked and I became concerned about love-bruises. Time to introduce another factor. I let my hand trail down her spine to her coccyx and she stuck her round little bottom out for my convenience. I continued and when my finger stopped over her anus and rubbed in little circles, she pushed back against it and dug her nails into me. All her openings were still damp and I had no difficulty sliding the first joint of my middle finger into her rectum. She had moved upward against me to give me easier access, and my mouth was perfectly positioned to reach her nipples, which I milked attentively. But I wanted to explore that lovely ass more closely. "Sharon," I said, "unwrap yourself, sweetheart, and get up on your hands and knees. Wiggle that hot little butt for me." She giggled and did as I instructed, back bent and ass in the air, squirming provocatively. When I crawled around behind her, riding the waves in the waterbed, I was especially drawn by her fragrance and by the symmetrical beauty of her ass, including the wisps of silky hair framing her pussy. Just above that was her small, star-shaped pucker. I stroked her bottom, marveling at the smooth resilience, and kissed her lingeringly on both cheeks. Then I scattered a series of wet kisses down the crease of her cleft and her ass began to twitch in earnest. I put out my tongue and licked the length of her cunt while she gyrated and balled up the sheet in her fists. Two fingers eased into her depths, still hot and juicy, while I made rings around her asshole with my tongue. She tasted deliciously of dried, salty sweat. Sharon bucked and shook and groaned in mounting passion. "Oh, that feels lovely," she whispered hoarsely. "I wish you'd stick your tongue right up my asshole, that'd be so wild! And you could fuck me from behind, too...." Her fingers were now between her legs, strumming her clit with abandon. I followed her request -- and my own surprised inclination -- and pushed my tongue through her sphincter; I could only reach a few centimeters, but it was the attempt that turned her on. I hurriedly tore open another foil packet and rolled the condom over my resurgent cock. And, getting on my knees and moving up close behind her, I brushed my cock head against the lips of her cunt. She vibrated, spreading her knees farther apart and cocking her ass up even more. I slid into her easily, as if she had been screwing for years. Holding her hips tightly, I thrust into her so hard and fast I bumped her cervix. She went momentarily rigid and gasped, "Oh, God! That's so great! It's like being raped or something -- only I love it, I really do!" After three or four minutes of pounding away, I said, "Let your knees slide out from under you, Sharon -- slowly, so I don't lose you." She let herself slide onto her stomach and I followed her down, keeping my knees on the outside of her legs. The grip of her small, tight ass allowed me to remain buried in her -- but now her clasp was even tighter and it swallowed me whole. I pulled her arms down to her sides and held her close, completing the vulnerability fantasy she had mentioned several times. Her head moved restlessly and I could feel her slender body undulating beneath me as I resumed thrusting into her. "Oh, yes! Hold me down, don't let me move! Just keep fucking me, just like that -- oh, that's so nice!" "Sharon," I said between breaths, "it feels to you like my penis has grown to twice its previous size. Your vagina is completely filled with it, stretched and filled to overflowing, and you feel every movement it makes with great intensity, don't you?" Her reaction was instantaneous. "Oh! Christ! Oh,... oh, shit.... I didn't know your cock could get so huge," she moaned as her ass shuddered beneath my stomach. "God, you're going to split me open -- and I don't care! Just keep doing it,... keep fucking me!" The marvelous part of this was that Sharon wasn't parroting a set of lines I had given her to repeat. What I had done was to establish the circumstances; her reactions to that were her own. And her feedback was something more than I had expected -- as with this little rape-fantasy of hers. Well, I thought, a game was a game. "Sharon," I continued softly in her ear as I rammed myself into her, "what would you think if I were to tie you down to the bed by your wrists and ankles?" She stopped her breathless squirming for a moment. "Would it-- would it hurt?" "No, sweetheart, I told you I would do nothing to hurt you. No, this would be sort of 'pretend'. The restraints are real but very light; they're symbolic, do you understand? That way, it's always *your* choice whether you want to continue." Except for my hypnotic influence, of course. I was aware of a slight increase in Sharon's excitement (if that were possible) as she thought about the suggestion. "Oh, wow, that sounds,... um, it sounds really sexy. I'd be tied down? Then you could do anything you wanted to me, couldn't you? Wow...." Again, I thrust hard into her and her ass clenched as she grunted a little. "God,... so big -- I feel so full,..." she murmured, and humped me back. Sharon's youthful horniness was becoming too much to bear and I picked up speed, ramming into her with increased force. She twisted her hands around, where I had them pinned at her sides, and squeezed the tops of my thighs. With each lunging stroke her body was shoved forward, setting up more wavefronts in the bed which synchronized with the "Uh -- uh -- uh" sounds she was making. After a few minutes, her breath was almost as rasping as mine and from the way her fingers dug into my flesh it was clear she was also nearing another climax. When I hit the final impalement and ejaculated for the second time into the hot focus of her, Sharon's entire body went rigid -- even her toes, which strained against my shins. I wished I wasn't wearing that damned condom. Sure, the physical sensations are all there, but simply *knowing* there's a synthetic barrier between you and the girl you're plowing can be off-putting, at least to me. Ah, well.... It was going to be a little while before I was ready for a third round, though I suspected Sharon could go on having orgasms all night in her present inflamed physical and mental state. Time for play! As we both struggled to catch our breaths, Sharon flexed her internal muscles and gave my overheated cock a delightful squeeze. "You gonna tie me up now?" she asked. I began to wonder if I had created an adolescent monster. "Of course I am, sweetheart." I eased my rather sore and wilting penis out from between her reddened thighs and rolled over to the side of the bed, where I peeled off the condom, tied a knot in it, and set it on the nightstand beside the first used one ... and the other three foil packs, which I hoped would be enough to get us through the night. I hadn't expected bondage games, of course -- hadn't even ever taken part in one, in fact -- so I had no rope or velvet-lined handcuffs with me. When you're desperate, you improvise. I wondered how much John had paid for his neckties. "Sharon, remain face down and extend your arms and legs toward the four corners of the bed; stretch as far as you can. Imagine the sensation of being tied to the bedposts." She obediently stretched her limbs out, grunting a little as she reached as hard as she could. Her red-splotched buttocks quivered in a lovely way with her efforts. Her cunt glistened between her parted thighs; by rights, there should have been a trickle of my semen dribbling down onto the sheets, but that couldn't be helped. I rummaged guiltily through our host's closet, looking for makeshift rope, and finally discovered a small heap of frayed bungee cords -- the sort with rubber-coated metal hooks on the ends of each three-foot length, for tying down suitcases on luggage carriers and such. An obvious accessory for a salesman; I might even tell John later what use I was putting them to. As I returned to the bed, where Sharon was becoming a bit red-faced, both from her exertions and from renewed excitement. "Now, sweetheart," I began, "I'm going to fasten you down. I promise you, it won't hurt. You'll be able to get loose with no difficulty if you really want to -- but you won't want to, will you? This is a sex *fantasy*, remember: You must keep in mind that *you* are the one who's really in control. But since you trust me, and you know you won't be hurt, and you *really* want to try a little kinkiness, you will gladly play the role of a helpless captive, completely at my mercy. Do you understand, Sharon? That's what you really want, isn't it?" "Yes -- that's what I want, I want to be helpless, you can do anything you want to me and I can't stop you...." She trembled and licked her lips in anticipation. Her fingers repeatedly spread and balled themselves into tight little fists. I quickly looped a cord twice around her right wrist, made a loose overhand knot, and hooked the metal ends around the upright of the rattan headboard. The elastic cord stretched enough to keep her arm taut. As I hooked up her other arm, she caught my eye over her shoulder and gave me a sultry smile through a curtain of tousled hair. It wasn't until I turned to bind her feet that it dawned on me that John's waterbed, like most, had no footboard. I hastily grabbed a couple more bungees and linked them together so I could fasten one ankle to the closet doorknob and the other to a chrome stand loaded with exercise weights. Then I stood for a moment admiring my handiwork. Little Sharon certainly *looked* helpless, with her slender, smoking body stretched across the bed. She writhed sinuously, testing her bonds. Her toes were pointed by the angle and tension of the cords, forming oddly attractive creases across the soles of her small feet. I raked a thumbnail lightly across the bottom of one pretty foot and she gasped and tried to curl her foot even further. I slowly licked the sole of her other foot and she began to shake a little. Then, leaning over her without touching the bed, I nibbled at the back of one knee and she jerked and moaned softly. It wasn't difficult figuring out how to push Sharon's buttons. I crept onto the bed between her trembling legs, leaned down, and buried my nose in the aromatic space between her cunt and her asshole. Sharon squealed and puffed, and jerked at her bonds. Her wrists twisted and contorted as if she were fastened much more tightly than she really was. Separating her buttocks with my thumbs, I swabbed my tongue from her gleaming cunt to her rhythmically twitching anus. "G-g-god!" she stammered. I nipped the silky flesh in the depths of her cleft and lapped again at her pussy. She was vibrating like a drumhead. Finally, I slid my middle finger far into her molten vagina and stirred it about to completely lubricate it for its next task. The same finger moved up the slope of her frenzied ass and pushed slowly through her sphincter, the tight, muscular ring clutching at it all the way, until my palm was flat against the underside of her ass and three joints of my finger were being Hooverized by her rectum. Slowly, I began to finger-fuck her ass, sliding my finger almost all the way out, pausing to build the suspense, and stabbing much more quickly back into her. Sharon tensed just before each thrust and sobbed a little at the end of each. They weren't sounds of pain, but of ever-mounting lust, and I was amazed at their recuperative effect on my cock. I had never in my life screwed a girl more than twice in a single evening, and here I was, going for my third erection in less than three hours. I was becoming very aware that what I really, really wanted to do was to get my cock about fifteen inches up that entrancing ass of hers. Watching that trembling little butt squirm and writhe as it tried to suck in even more of my finger was almost more than I could stand. Sharon was all my most carefully sublimated erotic fantasies come true. It was becoming a matter not of "should I?" but of "can I get away with it?" Could Sharon's young, very tight ass manage my cock? There would almost certainly be a little pain at the beginning, too: Would that pop her out of her trance? "Sharon, I'm afraid I have to leave the room for just a moment. You won't worry and you won't be afraid because you know for certain that I'll be right back; you know that, don't you, sweetheart?" "Yes," she giggled unevenly, "I know you'll be right back -- but what about my asshole?" "Um. Think about what it might be like to have a man's cock in your asshole, Sharon. You've heard of ass-fucking, haven't you?" "Yeah, I guess so. Isn't that kinda weird?" "Isn't being tied to the bed?" She giggled again. "Maybe so, but it's nice, too!" "I'll be right back," I repeated as I slid my finger out of its dark harbor. "Imagine how nice it would feel to have my penis in your ass instead of my finger, okay?" She twitched her bottom and made fists as the pictures moved through her mind. I headed out the door and down the stairs, my new erection bobbing in front of me. Searching the kitchen for some kind of test instrument, I thought of the jokes I'd heard and opened the vegetable crisper in the refrigerator. John apparently liked Polish and Czech food because I found a fresh kielbasa, nearly a foot long and almost two inches in diameter. Even its consistency was vaguely cock-like (I supposed). Back upstairs, I stopped in the master bathroom and dug up a tube of K-Y; I would've been surprised had I *not* found it. Sharon was moaning slightly and her little sphincter seemed to be winking at me. "I'm back, Sharon, and I have a surprise for you," I said softly as I squeezed K-Y along half the length of the kielbasa and rolled it around in the palm of my hand, coating it liberally. I also smoothed a smaller glop of the stuff on and in Sharon's asshole while she twisted and hummed in the back of her throat. "Now, this won't hurt at all, Sharon, do you understand? This is just a sex toy I found -- kind of a fake penis, just to make sure you can deal with being fucked in the ass. I want you to tell me what it feels like, okay, sweetheart?" I was pressing gently at the little brown ridges with the narrow end of my "toy" and she was trying to hump the sausage. Twisting slightly, I worked the end of the kielbasa into her ass an inch or so as Sharon gasped and started breathing rapidly, mouth wide open. Another two inches and her neck was bent, head thrown back as far as she was able. Her toes wiggled slowly and I saw her arm and leg muscles tense and release in turn. At six inches, I began to rotate the meat so its curve changed direction within her; her buttocks seemed to shimmer with tension and her tangled hair whipped back and forth. "Are you okay, sweetheart? How does that feel?" He took her a few seconds to put together a reply. "My God," she whispered hoarsely, "there's a snake in my gut, and it feels like my legs are on fire, and my toes have electricity in them, and I think my nipples are lit up like Christmas tree lights! And it just goes on and on...." Wow, some reaction. I released the kielbasa and looked at it thoughtfully; it was half-buried in her butt and the thicker end traced slow, complex patterns in the air as Sharon's pelvis writhed. Could she take in the whole thing? But if she did,... how would my merely human cock compete afterward? Perhaps I hadn't thought far enough ahead. Oh, the hell with it. I continued to work the sausage into Sharon's asshole, which dilated to accommodate it. I added more K-Y around the wide-stretched ring; it felt strange to the touch but didn't seem in danger of being damaged. I became so mesmerized by what I was doing that it wasn't until I could no longer get a grip on the thing that I realized only an inch or so still protruded from her rectum, like a stumpy little tail. Sharon's back was tightly arched and she was making a prolonged "Unnnnhhhh..." sound. A bright scarlet sexual flush had crept down her neck and shoulders and there was no doubt about her state of arousal -- nor about my own. My cock ached so much I was almost afraid to touch it. "What do you feel like now, Sharon?" "Ohhhh.... You're so huge and long in my butt, I don't believe it! Are you going to come inside me? Are you?" In her extreme excitement, she seemed to have forgotten the kielbasa was supposed to be a "toy." And it was a sure thing that I was going to come somewhere. "I'm going to pull out and then go back in," I replied hastily, and began extracting the sausage, pausing every inch or so to thrust it back into her as if I were fucking her for real. Her moans became louder and her gyrations more athletic at each plunge. As the length of the kielbasa emerged, I was a bit surprised to find none of the shit stains I had expected. That reassured me, though. As the last bit of the sausage appeared, I positioned myself above that lovely little ass. Tossing the "toy" over my shoulder (it made an exhausted sound as it bounced on the floor), I plunged through her vibrating sphincter, burying my cock completely in one thrust. It might not have felt like a lot to Sharon by comparison, but it was exquisite to me. I pulled partway out and rammed into her again and she buried her face in the sheets and sobbed under her breath. I'd thought her virginal cunt was tight but her rectum was unbelievable, and there was no end to it. My balls banged against her pussy and I ran my hands up and down her flanks. My vision was clouded, I was so transported. I could hold out for only two or three minutes before I geysered again, the third time that evening. It felt like I was shooting sperm as far as her kidneys. Sharon's sobbing was louder and she was gasping "Oh -- oh -- oh" between gulps. Neither of us was able to move at all for five or six minutes. Her lovely adolescent ass still held my organ so tightly in its grasp, I was able to stay put for quite awhile. Every few minutes, some internal muscle or nerve would twitch and my penis would spasm in response. I was amazed at my ability to climax so many times so close together, but I knew the tank was empty at last. There was no telling how long it would take my body to manufacture more seminal fluid. But at least I'd had the pleasure of flesh-to-flesh contact that last time. Sharon wasn't likely to get pregnant from having her ass plowed and I knew I was absolutely disease-free, so there were no guilt pangs on my behalf. A most delightful -- and exhausting -- end to my brief jailbait affair. The next question was, what should I do now? Stay overnight in John's bed with my arms wrapped around this cuddly little doll? (And take a much greater chance of her parents discovering she wasn't where she was supposed to be...?) I peered at the bedside clock as I rolled stiffly off Sharon's body; she groaned softly and shifted position. It wasn't quite midnight, though I felt like we had been screwing for at least three days. If we got up now, I could probably deliver Sharon into her friend Marilyn's care by 1:00 in the morning -- not unreasonable hours for a Friday night sleep-over, if the girls claimed they had been out running around. I reached over and stroked her sweat-slick shoulder. "C'mon, sweetheart, we have to get up and take a shower so I can take you to your slumber party." She screwed her eyes tightly shut. "Don' wanna go ... wanna stay here with you...." She looked adorable behind the curtain of tangled hair and I really wanted to keep her -- but I wasn't *that* stupid. "Sharon, pay attention. I'd like very much for you to stay here, too, but I'm afraid it's a very bad idea. Let's go, sweetheart -- up and at 'em." She groaned again in weary satiety and rolled over. She winced a couple times as she sat up and scooted over to the edge of the bed. If Sharon's healthy young body was stiff and sore, I hated to think what kind of condition I was going to be in in the morning. She held up her arms for assistance and I hauled her to her feet. Her arms, naturally, continued to slide around my neck and we glided smoothly into a slow, gentle kiss,... completely unlike our most recent lovemaking. Even used up and worn out, I appreciated the warm softness of Sharon's body pressed against mine as our sweat combined. That might present a problem to the outside world, though. "Darlin', I think we're both badly in need of soap and hot water," I commented as the kiss tapered off. She sniffed and smiled. "We just smell like sex; I kinda like it." I squeezed her tighter. "So do I, sweetheart,... but I don't think your folks would appreciate it. Or your brother." We made out way stiffly to the master bathroom, which had a big shower with tinted glass doors, fake cobblestone flooring, its own recessed heat lamp overhead, and a high-tech, ten-way showerhead. Sharon was still a bit fuzzy but she woke up with a squeal when the first icy blast of water hit her between the shoulderblades. In another two seconds, the water was nearly scalding, though, and she backed into it, wriggling her shoulders with a sigh and twisting her neck from side to side. I began soaping her down and she raised her arms so I could reach her ribs. She gave me a sweet, warm smile as my slippery hands glided over her breasts and down across her belly. "You're still in your trance, aren't you Sharon?" She nodded and cocked her head. "Tell me what you're thinking about right now, sweetheart. What's behind that lovely smile?" She leaned against my chest and tucked her face into my neck. "I'm thinking about how nice it is to be here with you," she said quietly. I was touched to the heart. She seemed to hesitate and then added, "I'm also thinking about being in love." She raised her head and focused on my eyes from two inches away. I opened my mouth but she touched my lips with her fingertips. "I know what you said,... you know, about sex and love. But I'm in love with you now -- tonight -- and I can't help it." She was so earnest in her proclamation, I found I couldn't help it either. "Sharon,... putting it that way, for tonight -- well, I love you, too." She wrapped her arms around my chest and squeezed so hard, I worried a little about a cracked rib. We didn't say much for a few minutes. I rubbed up a thick lather over most of her body, ears to toes. I loved handling every inch of her and she obviously enjoyed being the object of such careful attention. Then it was her turn to soap me up, and she made innovative use of her breasts as bath sponges, grinning when her nipple in my navel made me shiver. When Sharon had rinsed off, we switched places under the showerhead and I watched the gleam from her slick, wet skin as she leaned against the tile with her ankles demurely crossed. She saw the direction my eyes were traveling and smiled at my fixation. Holding my gaze, she cupped her small breasts and pinched her nipples. One hand slid slowly down to cover her pubic mound and her middle finger slipped into her vagina. I couldn't believe she could have the energy to go round again, but it quickly became obvious that she was merely putting on an erotic little show for my entertainment. She turned around and leaned her elbows and forearms against the wall, knees straight, her inviting little bottom jutting out at me. She gave me that hot little smile over her shoulder as she traced a slow track down between her buttocks with one nail. My cock made a halfhearted twitch and gave out completely. So I made the best response I could: I bent over and planted a wet, lingering kiss on the out-curve of one taut, perfectly formed cheek. Sharon wiggled in delight, and when I added a little nip with my teeth, she giggled in a way that gave me chills hotter than the shower. Fifteen minutes later, we were toweling each other down beneath the big heat lamp in the dressing alcove. Sharon insisted on drying me completely, just as she had soaped me -- and, of course, I did the same. We paused several times for cuddles and kisses and it was crowding 1:00 before we finally tidied up the bedroom and made our way downstairs to gather up our clothing. I was becoming concerned about slipping Sharon into her friend's house, but she calmly explained that Marilyn kept the ringer turned down on her private line and that the two of them often conversed secretly about "girl things" in the middle of the night. Marilyn would arrange to sneak her in and no one's parents would be the wiser. I hoped she was right. Sharon sat on the arm of the sofa, casually and beautifully naked, talking quietly to her buddy on the phone. One toe traced invisible patterns in the carpet and she'd wound the cord several times around her fingers, looking for all the world like any other fourteen-year-old girl, except for all that lovely skin. Again, I let my gaze travel slowly over that gorgeous little body as I dressed. I wasn't likely to see her in this state again; the chances of being caught were simply too great. She watched me watching her and smiled intimately as she talked. Then she silently parted her thighs to give me an unobstructed view of her pussy, which appeared as exhausted as I felt. I was a bit surprised to hear her say, "I'm still bare as a baby, Marilyn, and my boyfriend's putting on his clothes. I like the way he's looking at me, like he'd like to eat me for dinner. And I've just spread my legs so he can see almost inside of me. Yeah, really,... but he already knows what the inside of me feels like. Have you ever let a guy fuck you in the ass? No, Marilyn -- it's fantastic! Or maybe it just has to be the right guy...." She winked at me. Hearing her nonchalantly describing her new sexual experiences to another girl her age was a whole different kind of turn-on. I wondered momentarily if Marilyn-the-girlfriend might become available for a three-way party. No -- that would *really* be taking risks! "No, I told you Marilyn: There's no way I'm going to tell you who the guy is! He's so sweet, and I *love* fucking him, and he could get in *really* bad trouble, you know. Besides, you don't know him. He's older, remember? No, I won't tell you how much older, either!" she added with a laugh. "Look, I have to get dressed, okay? I'm leaving pussy puddles on his sofa, I swear I am. We'll be there in about thirty minutes and I'll wait just beyond the kitchen porch light, okay? Yeah, I promise -- I'll give you a blow-by-blow -- or a hump-by-hump, maybe! Oh, Marilyn,... you simply will not believe what sex is like. *Real* sex, I mean, not just kissing and making out. It's just too terrific...." I was dressed now, and had moved to lean between Sharon's knees so I could nibble on her pussy as she talked on the phone. I placed my thumb carefully on her clit and moved it in slow circles. Unbelievably, my little lover's eyes went smoky again and she arched her back. "Uh -- oh -- God!" she moaned into the mouthpiece. "Oh, Marilyn, you wouldn't believe what's happening, what he's doing to me right this minute! Oh, that feels so good...." I grinned and pinched her clit between thumb and forefinger. She gasped and moaned again and gave me a wicked look; obviously, some of Sharon's very vocal reaction was for her friend's benefit. "Sweetheart," I breathed in her ear, "I'm afraid you're going to have to dress that gorgeous body so we can get out of here. Of course, I could deliver you to Marilyn's house just as you are...." Sharon stifled a giggle and covered the mouthpiece with her hand. "That would be exciting, wouldn't it?! Better not, though, just in case we got stopped on the way...." I was joking, of course, but the image of Sharon's naked body heating up the front seat of my car blazed through my mind. "Marilyn, I've *gotta* go! I'll see you in thirty minutes -- if I can find all my clothes!" she laughed. Then she hung up and pulled on her sweatshirt. (A pretty young girl clothed only from the waist up is a wondrous sight.) She picked up her panties and her jeans but paused and gave me a thoughtful look. "Want a souvenir...?" She dangled the white panties from an outstretched fingertip. She saw the answer in my eyes and carefully wadded up the material and crammed it up between her legs, most of it disappearing into her cunt. She closed her thighs tightly and kind of rotated her hips. When she extracted them, her panties were visibly damp; she waved them close to my face and I inhaled the thick perfume. She leaned close and ran her little tongue over my lips as she stuffed her trophy-gift into my pocket. "I'm sorry I don't have a memento to give to you in return," I replied softly as she nibbled at my ear. "Are you kidding?" she chuckled, and my ear tickled. "I have two tied- up rubbers in my jeans pocket that are full of you." She guided my hand around to her ass, still bare below her shirt. "Plus an extra installment...." One long kiss filled with tongue and then Sharon was almost shyly pulling her jeans up over that naked, lovely ass and jamming on her loafers. Her bra went into her gym bag. She slung her purse over her shoulder and looked around to make sure she'd forgotten nothing. And then we were out the door and climbing into the car, and I found myself very much regretting that my evening (and almost certainly my affair) with Sharon was nearly over. I wasn't sure what remained of Sharon's trance so as we pulled out of the parking lot -- the only car on the street at that hour of the night, as far as I could tell -- I squeezed her shoulder to get her attention and said "Dive, Sharon, dive." When I glanced at her face, I saw the calm, relaxed serenity I'd learned to associate with a successful hypnotic trance. She was under, all right. "Sharon, you understand, don't you, that you must not say anything to anyone about our relationship? Don't even hint at my identity, correct? You can tell Marilyn and your other most trustworthy friends all the physical details about how you lost your virginity and how much fun sex can be, though." I was revising my thoughts quickly. "In fact, Sharon, you *will* tell them all about it -- very privately, of course. You'll tell them in detail how great it feel to be fucked in the ass, and all the rest of it, won't you? But you will be very careful not to give them, or anyone else, even the smallest clue to who I am, all right? Just refer to your 'boyfriend' and leave it at that. Do you understand, sweetheart?" She seemed almost affronted that I would think she had to be instructed. "Yes, I understand; I'd *die* before I told anyone anything that might get you in trouble! I just wouldn't do something like that -- especially around Jeff. And my parents would never understand about sex anyway." She paused. "I wouldn't even trust all my friends to keep their big mouths shut about something this important -- it would make terrific gossip around school. I'll be really careful what I say and who I say it to, I promise." She slid closer and stroked my thigh as I drove through the darkened suburbs. "I can trust Marilyn, though, absolutely. Other way 'round, too, because I even held a little bag of pot for her last year when she was afraid her parents or the maid might find it." She smiled conspiratorially. "We do things like that for each other all the time, you know. In fact,... Marilyn's the one who showed me how to get myself off." She folded her hands primly in her lap. "I didn't know how and I asked her, and so we got in bed together one night, and she played with her pussy and I watched. She even came!" she giggled impishly. "Hmmm. Sweetheart, have you and Marilyn ever touched each other's pussies?" "Noooo.... I think she wanted to once, though." "Okay. Don't you think it would be a good idea if you and your friend got really cozy and masturbated each other? Girls can make love with other girls, you know; sex is sex. Would you enjoy that? Would Marilyn?" "Yes," she replied slowly, "I think she would. She's really, really interested in everything about sex. And it sounds like fun...." I had a feeling little Sharon's social life was going to heat up considerably. "Sweetheart, I want you to be sure to write to me at school and tell me what happens in your sex life with Marilyn, with other boys, all of it, okay? And give me all the other news about your life, too, because I'm very interested. Be sure no one catches you writing or mailing letters to me, Sharon; that could land us both in a lot of trouble. But you will be explicit and completely honest in what you tell me, do you understand?" And I had her memorize my post office address at school. Our parting was almost anticlimactic. I turned off the headlights as I rounded the corner onto Marilyn's block and eased to a stop at the curb across the street and several houses down. As I killed the engine and switched off the dome light, I looked toward the house Sharon indicated and was sure I saw the white lace curtains move in an upstairs dormer window. Sharon saw it, too, and grabbed her gym bag off the floor. "I'd better be going -- I should be there already when she opens the kitchen door, so she won't have to wait." She quickly opened the door and seemed about to leap out and disappear. Suddenly, I was unprepared for her departure. "Sharon--" I grabbed her shoulder and she looked back at me. Her face softened and she moved back, close up against me, leaving the passenger door ajar. I kissed her and then hugged her more tightly than I had intended. "Sharon, when I count down to one, you will no longer be in a trance and you will forget ever having been in a trance, but you will remember everything I've told you. And you won't forget to write regularly and tell me everything, now, will you? And I want you to remember something else, sweetheart, because it's very important." I held her face in my hands and stared hard into her eyes. "Always remember that you're a special person, Sharon. Very special." Her beaming smile was dazzling. "Five,... four,... three,... two,... one." She blinked and sighed deeply. Gathering up her bag again, she slid back to the half-open door but paused halfway out and looked back at me steadily. "I don't care: I still love you," she said softly and with great conviction. "I think I always will." And then she was out and sprinting silently across the street as the car door clicked shut. I could make out the upper part of Marilyn's kitchen door over the surrounding shrubbery and I sat and watched as it swung open and closed again. I imagined the two girls tiptoeing upstairs, Marilyn whispering excited questions at her friend and my little lover displaying that knowing grin in reply. What a sweetheart she was -- and what a sweet fuck. I let off the brake and coasted fifty yards past Marilyn's house before I restarted the engine; the headlights remained off until I'd turned the far corner. All the way home, I thought about the evening's unbelievable events. I hated to have to give up Sharon, but safety came first. Relative safety, anyway. There were lots of other hypnotic subjects out there, and I already had a couple of interesting experimental candidates in mind. I awoke after 10:00 the next morning with a partial erection. I couldn't remember my dreams but I was sure I knew what they'd been about. I attempted experimentally to masturbate but stopped almost immediately. My cock was as sore as if a dump truck had run over it -- twice. When I finally climbed out of bed, I groaned because of the stiffness in my lower back. Sharon was probably feeling even more wasted, despite her youthful resilience, but I knew she didn't regret it. I had to wonder how she might have behaved through all this had I simply removed her overriding inhibitions and not added all the extra guidance. Would she still have been such a hot little girl? It was impossible to know. My quest for someone who could be shown to have done something under hypnosis that they would never have done otherwise was still incomplete. But this had certainly been a delightful experiment!