tagMind ControlA Few Minor Adjustments Ch. 05

A Few Minor Adjustments Ch. 05


The next morning Stephanie and I ate breakfast together in the dining room. The sunlight spilling in through the windows made her hair and skin look perfect. She was wearing a short silk robe I'd bought her years ago over a pair of shorts and a loose camisole. I leered at her cleavage as she dug into her grapefruit. Over the morning's Sports section, of course.

My mind wandered to the events of the night before: the incredible fuck we'd shared on the kitchen island followed by the erotic fantasy her sister had shared with me under hypnosis. I barely felt like the same person I was a week ago--frustrated and desperate. Now all I could think about was how fortunate I was to be in the position to be with this incredibly hot and suddenly horny woman sitting across from me. It was selfish for me to want more, but I hadn't done anything yet, either.

I took a sip from my coffee and leaned over to get a better look down Stephanie's shirt when she turned to me.

"Did you... do something to me when you hypnotized me last week?" she asked.

I almost sprayed my coffee all over her. I folded my paper carefully in front of me and set down my mug. "Why would you say something like that?"

"I don't know. It's weird. Like, I remember dinner last night, and I remember sitting down with Nikki and watching you hypnotize her. Then she started taking off her clothes. Then I remember saying good night to her and going to bed early. But I don't remember closing the door or you coming to bed or anything else. Isn't that weird?"

"Honey," I said, turning the newspaper sideways on the table between us. "Do you remember us drinking three bottles of wine last night? I'm not sure I remember that much. Nicole collected her things and went home as soon as you went to bed. I offered to make her coffee so she'd be safe. Do you remember that?"

She squinted her eyes and looked a little confused. Then she smiled. "It was a lot of wine. But there's something else--since that night, I've been a total slut. I can't believe we did what we did in the kitchen. You put your thumb in my ass! And I liked it! And I'm having these thoughts... That's not me. It never has been."

"What kind of thoughts?" I asked. I rubbed her calf under the table with my toes, caressing up her leg and to her thigh.

She blushed and squirmed away from my touch. "Sexy thoughts. Different stuff. I don't know. Things I haven't thought about since I was a teenager. It's just weird."

"Do you not like it?"

"No! It's awesome. We haven't been like this since we first got together. I'm excited every time I see you. I'm, like, aware of myself in this new way. And the sex has just been incredible--even you're different. It's like you know what I've always wanted. Don't things seem different to you?"

I thought about how I should answer this. Sometimes having the subconscious dragged into the conscious mind undoes all of the work. I didn't want to do that, but I also didn't want any part of Stephanie being unhappy. "They are different, but they're also better. Maybe that 'sexual peak' that people always talk about is arriving for you. You've lost some weight--I've never seen you look better. Maybe you're feeling sexy and acting like it." I reached across the table and held her hand. I ran my fingers across her palm. I pressed on the inside of her wrist. She still looked uncertain, so I pulled her hand up to my lips and kissed the back of it. Nothing sexy about it, just tenderness.

"I love you. You do look beautiful," I said.

"I love you, too. Maybe it's all in my head. It was a lot of wine." She dug back into her grapefruit and I watched her for a little while, the way her hair fell across her face and how her lips twitched when she was thinking hard.

"What haven't you thought about since you were a teenager?" I asked.

The color rose in her cheeks and she crushed the last wedges of her breakfast. "I'm going to shower."

"Do you want me to join you?"

"Yes, but you can't. I'll take advantage of you, and you'll never get to work on time." She wiggled her ass at me and turned the corner up the stairs. A few minutes later, I heard the water running.

That morning when I got to my office I was pleasantly surprised to find an e-mail message from Nicole. I was afraid that my instructions to her to e-mail me a sexy picture when she fantasized about me might be too complicated for her subconscious to process. I was glad I was wrong.

Nicole's a smart woman. The picture didn't reveal her face, just the ends of her hair spilling over her shoulders. She'd posed with her cameraphone on a table. Her thin body was perched on her hands and knees, with one hand buried in a black thong and another cupping one of her small but firm breasts under the cup of a black lace bra. She looked good. The e-mail didn't have any text; it felt like it was done automatically--without thinking. I wouldn't mention it to her, although I spent more time than necessary ogling her perfect skin and tight lines.

Stephanie was right; hypnotizing her (and her sister) had not only changed them, it had changed me. I was definitely more confident now. The taste of getting what I wanted made me want even more. When I walked around my campus, my eyes lingered on the lithe coeds more than was necessary and maybe appropriate. But another thing happened: the coeds seemed to be noticing me, too. A college campus in summer is slow, but it's not vacant. Young women carry their summer school books pressed to their spaghetti-strapped shirts and short shorts. I could feel their eyes linger on me. I even caught a couple of young things turn to check out my ass as they walked by. I hoped they would enroll in my course for the fall.

I found myself mildly disappointed the next day when I came to work and I didn't have a picture from my sister-in-law. I didn't expect one; it had taken some time for Stephanie to work out my instructions. But I'd hoped for something. Nicole clearly had more of an erotic imagination than my wife. Perhaps I shouldn't have instructed her to sleep as soundly as I did.

Instead I puttered around my mostly-vacant building. The engineering and architecture schools were centered in gleaming new glass-and-metal cathedrals, but my own liberal arts department was secluded in a building nearly as old as the campus itself. It wasn't without its charms, though. The grass around the building was cool in the summer, and students picnicked outside during session. The trees were mature and shaded the grounds, and what the brick and ivy exterior lacked in awesomeness it more than made up for in character and class.

Since it was the middle of summer, the great majority of my colleagues had either just left or were about to come back from their own travels. I always tried to make the most of this time, so I was doing my own research and settling on materials for the coming fall. Even the secretaries were out. My hallway lights have a motion detector instead of a switch, and I had started to favor working in twilight.

My phone rang, and I was surprised to see that it was Stephanie.

"I'm afraid that you're on your own for dinner tonight, baby," she said. "Did you have anything special planned?"

A couple of chicken breasts were thawing in the fridge alongside a bottle of white wine. More interestingly, there was a quiver of excitement in her voice. "Nothing that can't keep. Are you going to be out with your boyfriend tonight?" I teased.

Sometimes you can hear someone's smile through the phone, but I knew that my joke wasn't that funny. "No, I have to stay late at the office."

"Working on a big story?"

"Uh-uh. I'm anchoring the evening news tonight!" She practically screamed it into the handset. It was something that she'd been working toward for the last few years. Even when anchor's desks opened up in smaller markets, she'd stayed on at her station waiting for her chance.

"Baby, I'm so excited for you! Is this a full-time thing?"

"Not yet. That bitch Cindy got drunk at lunch and fell into a planter in the parking lot. She has a huge welt across her face. Anyway, I'm going to be doing five, six, and ten, so don't hold anything for me."

"All right, honey. I love you and I'm so proud of you. You sound a little nervous. Where are you?"

"I'm at home picking up some clothes. Are you still at work?"

"Yeah, just reading through some things. I'll be here a while and maybe I'll get some dinner out here before I head back. Take some time to relax or you'll be a live wire when the cameras come on. I know you'll do great. Love you."

"I love you, too." And then she hung up.

I leaned back in my chair for a little while and let myself feel excited for my wife. Tonight could be her big break. Local anchors got "Wally Pipped" all the time when they had to take a night off. Stephanie had done a bunch of awful weekend fill-ins over the last couple of years so that she'd be ready when this chance arrived.

I did a little busywork at my desk--shifting papers around, mostly. I wasn't looking busy for anyone. I thought that I might need to dust the bookshelves on my office walls before the new school year. While I stared out my window daydreaming about my wife's raised profile and hopefully boosted paycheck, a new e-mail appeared in my inbox. Usually I ignored it, but this one was from Stephanie's sister Nicole and carried the telltale paperclip that indicated an attachment.

Again the e-mail was bereft of text, but it wasn't bereft of content. The picture had been taken in what was clearly the stall of an office restroom. She'd positioned her camera phone over he shoulder and her top was unbuttoned. Beneath the tops of her breasts she showed her splayed legs with her hand buried in her pussy. Her feet pushed the doors of the stall closed. Apparently she was getting daring pretty quickly, and she was pretty bored at work during the day.

I must've been staring pretty intently at the curve of my sister-in-law's thighs a, because I didn't hear the soft ping of the elevator when it stopped on my floor. Nor did I hear the the hallway lights hum to life. And I didn't hear the puddling of a trench coat in the hallway. It was only when I heard the click of footsteps approaching my doorway that I clicked my e-mail window closed and tried to adjust the bulge I had been nurturing in my pants.

"Excuse me, Professor?" It was Stephanie's voice. I flipped off my monitor.

"Steph? What're you doing here? Shouldn't you be on the way to the studio?" And then I turned in my chair.

My wife is 30 but usually can pass for 25. As she stood in front of me, she looked 19. She was impossible to take in all at once. Her auburn hair was tied up in pigtails with red ribbon. She wore a tailored white dress shirt maybe a half-size too small with cuffs above her elbows. Her breasts spilled out from the three buttons she'd left carelessly undone. The red lace of her bra mocked decency. She wore a crimson and green tartan skirt whose pleats ended at the hemline above her mid-thigh. She had white, knee-high socks under her patent leather Mary Janes with three-inch heels. She looked like every sixteen-year-old's fantasy. And she was standing in my office.

"Professor, I'm not sure you remember me, but I was in your class last Spring."

I stood up to stand in front of her. She looked up at me through the open doorway. If she wanted to play act a little bit, I wasn't going to stop her. Not when she was looking like this. "I think I remember you. Didn't you sit in the back of the class? When you were there?"

"Yeah... I'm sorry about that. I just had so much going on with my sorority this semester. I'm really sorry. This was the first class that I ever failed." As she talked she played with the fine gold chain around her neck. She looked into my eyes and while her expression was pure innocence, her intentions were clearly anything but.

"Well, I hope you learned a lesson." I wasn't sure what exactly she was looking for, but she definitely wanted me to play along. "I've already turned in grades, but there is a process for changing grades that are in error or for students who do extra work." She gave me the slightest nod. I had the right track. "Do you have a project in mind? You were very far... behind."

"Oh, I know I was behind. I'll do whatever I can to catch up. Oops." She ostentatiously rolled a pen off my desk and onto the floor behind her. She turned on her heels and bent over at her waist. While she reached out her arm for the pencil, she leaned her ass directly into my now raging hard-on, contained only by my slacks and boxer briefs.

As easily as one heartbeat follows another I rested my hands on either side of my wife-student's hips. When she pressed back into me, she moved her hips down, and up when I pushed back into her. She followed the ridge of my cock as she moved, the palms of her hands pressed into the floor. One of them had finally grasped the errant ballpoint. I ran my hands under the hemline of the skirt and found a pair of red lace panties. I gave my member a little relief and inserted my hand between us. I rested my fingers along the cleft of her pussy.

Stephanie was sopping wet. She must have been thinking about this for hours, getting herself worked up since we talked on the phone, at least. "Mmm... Professor. I can't tell you how much I want... need this grade. Is there anything we can do to take care of this today? I'm really busy and so close... to graduating."

I pressed my hands into her sides and straightened her up. She leaned the weight of her body back into mine and continued to grind her hips into my dick. She was teasing me, but her skin was also hot against my face.

I sat her up on my desk and moved to close the door. She reached out and stopped it halfway. "Leave it open," she whispered into my ear, biting my earlobe. I swung it lightly so that a gap remained. The hallway light blinkered off.

I leaned in and kissed her. Her mouth was already open, hot and wet. I pulled my hands from her thighs and unbuttoned the remainder of her blouse--it was already halfway undone. I slid my hand between the red lace of her bra and her fair skin. Her nipple hardened immediately under my touch.

She sucked on my tongue and groaned lightly as I played with her nipple and tried to press my body closer against hers. She ran her fingers under the fabric of my shirt and the waistband of my pants. She cupped her palm against my crotch and scratched her fingers along the outline of my cock. She squeezed the head lightly.

I kissed down her neck. Her skin was moist and fragrant with her desire. I pulled her ass to the edge of my desk. Her bra unhooked at the front. "You're a slutty little student, aren't you? You knew what you were doing coming in here." I unhooked it with my teeth and sucked a nipple into my mouth, rubbing around the edges of the other with one hand.

"Yes... yes," Stephanie said. I wasn't sure whether she was agreeing with me or just responding to my ministrations. I placed my hands on the sides of her ribs and arched her back to me. Her skin was hot in my mouth and I knew that she wouldn't be able to wait long for some relief.

I kissed her stomach and finally hooked my fingers under the waistband of her red lace panties. She leaned back and let me pull them off her outstretched legs.

"Yes... please..." my wife said. She spread her legs around my shoulders. I got down on my knees. She was ready to go. I didn't want to fuck her when she was this close to orgasm. I knelt in front of her and pulled her to the very edge of my desk. "Oh, God," she said. She kicked her legs over my shoulders.

I lifted up the pleated hem of her skirt and nestled my face between her thighs. If Stephanie's skin was hot, her pussy was scorching. I licked along the cleft of her shaved pussy. There wasn't a prickle on it. I felt the heels of her shoes dig into my back. Her hands clutched at my hair.

I felt her scoot herself further forward and she spread her knees apart to give me access. She smelled hot and dark and sexy. I ran the tip of my tongue from the bottom of her labia to the top, listening to her heavy breathing above me.

"Fuck me," she said. "I'm ready for you. I'm so hot."

I moved back slightly from her pussy. I spoke into it. "No." I continued teasing her. Her heels felt like daggers against my back. She was grabbing fistfuls of my hair. Her hands pushed my face into her pussy.

I always wondered if women could understand what I say when I write on their clits. Not consciously, but subconsciously. Even if they do, I now had a much more direct line to my wife's subconscious, so I didn't really worry about it.

I-A-M-G-O-I-N-G-T-O-F-U-C-K-Y-O-U-R-A-S-S-H-O-L-E, I carved into her clit with the tip of my tongue. I licked her pussy again. Almost like a return key.

"Ugh..." my wife groaned.

I-A-M-G-O-I-N-G-T-O-F-U-C-K-Y-O-U-R-S-I-S-T-E-R, I wrote. Her knees tried to clench around my head. I pulled them apart with my hands.

"Oh, God..." she moaned.

A-N-D-Y-O-U-A-R-E-G-O-I-N-G-T-O-A-S-K-M-E-T-O-D-O-B-O-T-H-T-O-O, I finally wrote.

"Yes! Please!" She dug into my scalp with her nails. It was starting to hurt.

Finally I drove my tongue deep into her. I worked it up and around Stephanie's most sensitive places. I knew I hit her G-spot when I felt her fingernails clench into my scalp. I rubbed my nose against her clit and her entire body went rigid.

"Oh, God! Oh, God! I'm cumming!" she moaned. I worried about the open door, but I couldn't even see whether the hallway outside my office was lit with my face buried in my wife's snatch. I could barely breathe.

When I was on the edge of passing out, her entire body went slack. Papers spilled over the front of my desk onto the floor. My wife isn't a squirter, but when her thighs released the sides of my face, I was soaked. I kissed the insides of her legs and ran my tongue over her stomach and between her breasts. Finally I kissed her on the mouth. She'd never let me kiss her after the few occasions that she'd let me go down on her.

She didn't recoil. In fact, she pulled me deeper into her. Her fingers pulled on my neck and lifted her body back into mine. The edges of her nails pressed into my spine. She moaned lightly; her tongue broke our lips' seal and licked along the corners of my mouth. I reached between her legs and rubbed her clit.

"No, please," she said. She wrapped her fingers around my wrist and pulled my hand up to her face. "Just give me a minute. I'm so sensitive." She was short of breath still from her orgasm and our kiss. Her lips were glossy with her cum.

"Do all women taste this good?" Steph asked. She sucked my fingers into her mouth and closed her eyes while she ran her tongue around each fingertip and down the cleft between. She opened her eyes narrowly and found mine. "Mmm..."

"Some not as sweet, some a little more spicy, but I've never found a woman who tastes better." I pulled my fingers out of my wife's mouth and put my lips back to hers. I pulled back on her pig tails and nibbled down her neck and into her collar. Again she fumbled at my belt buckle and along the waistband of my pants.

"Have you ever fucked a student? Is this the first 'extra credit' you've ever given?" she whispered into my ear.

I caught my breath. Stephanie probably thought it was because she'd finally opened my pants and was clawing at my rock-hard cock. I wasn't sure if we were still playing--whether she wanted an honest answer. This wasn't my pent-up, repressed wife of just a few weeks ago; this was a woman who dressed like an anime character to surprise me in my office. I decided that I'd tell her the truth. I could always put in into a trance and get her to forget it if she objected.

"Just once before," I said. Her hands were under my shirt, clawing at my chest. Her nails dug deeper into my skin.

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