A Meeting of Minds

I'm not forgetting Melinda though. I will her to an orgasm that comes in waves for the next three to four minutes that it takes me to get off. She's got a death grip on the desktop and it's only my mental instructions that keep her screams down to a level that won't bring the cops. Finally, the moment arrives.

As I come, I remember to keep up the Charm. This would be a bad time for her to see me as I really am. The feeling of release is magnificent. I'll be a little sore tomorrow myself.

As I feel the first of my spurts leave my body, I give Melinda one last huge wave of pleasure that builds to such a peak that it finally knocks her unconscious. I've learned with experience how to do this without endangering her mind. She slowly collapses across the desk, out like a light as I groan and fill my condom. At last, I pull out of her and head for the bathroom to dispose of the latex-encased mess.

A minute later, I easily lift her limp body up off of the desk and place her on her side in the middle of the bed. I spoon in behind her, reaching around to caress her breasts. It's been good for me, and I know it's been even better for her. This is what I do with just about every girl I bring here. They all love it.

At last, Melinda stirs and snuggles her full, rounded backside up against me, then turns and kisses me for the first time. My semen is just a slight aftertaste on her tongue by now.

"Holy shit, Jim. I'll bet no other woman on thisplanet had ever had an orgasm anywhere as good as that one." Well, actually, there are whole bunches of them out there that have. I don't mention that toherthough.

"I hoped you'd like it, Gorgeous." I reduce the level of Charm down as far as I can without actually letting her see my real appearance. I want her mind to be as free and natural as it can be for the next hour or so. We've gotten to the part of our 'date' that I need the most.

I ask her a few questions and it's enough to get her started talking about her life. We talk about her family, her friends, school, old boyfriends, you name it. The whole time she's still spooned up against me and I run my hand casually all over her voluptuous, young body. Indeed, I'm finally having fun playing with those large breasts. She never notices that we talk very little about me. This may be a poor substitute for having a real social life, but it's as close as I'd want to come.

I'm an only child of an only child. My mother died several years ago and I was never close to her parents. They pretty much cut off contact with her because of how I arrived in this world. I spurn anything more than casual contact with the people around me – I'm uncomfortable around people and don't need the complications that come with relationships. Talking with girls after sex is pretty much my only social outlet.

This isn't just about socializing though. I've got a debt to repay to Melinda for the good time she's given me. As I learn more about her, I gently touch different parts of her mind and help her work out her issues. Melinda's self-esteem is the biggest problem; she's constantly making poor choices due to her feelings of inferiority. I implant more positive attitudes in the places where they'll do her the most good.

I've got a lot of experience with this, she won't consciously notice a thing, but from now on she'll aim higher and attempt things she would never have thought about before. It will probably come as a surprise to most of the people who know her, but Melinda is actually a very bright and capable girl. With just this little push, she'll achieve big things and be a lot happier in the process.

And about those extra pounds – from now on she'll be carefully watching what she eats, exercising and treating her body with the respect and attention it needs to be at it's peak. She's not going to be one of those self-absorbed fanatics, but she'll look and feel her best for the rest of her life. It's just one of my little gifts to her. Oh yeah, she'll be quite orgasmic, too.

What did she have to do to deserve all this? Just enjoy the best sex of her life.

"This has been a lot of fun, Melinda. I hope it's been good for you."

"Absolutely, Jim. It's been fantastic!"

"Great. Well, you've got a party to get to, so we'd better get you back to the mall."

I lead her to the shower, and she soaps and rinses me gently and thoroughly. My women could give a geisha a run for her money in this category. In a generous mood now, so I turn around and return the favor.

I generally prefer women in their late twenties to early thirties, but Melinda's eighteen-year-old body sure feels great beneath my hands. To me, the shower is where big breasts feel best. I like to soap them up and play with them from behind, kind of like they're actually mine. It's not that I'm any sort of candidate for a sex change, but I sometimes wonder what it must be like to be a woman. Especially one stacked like Melinda.

She reaches behind her and starts playing with my flaccid penis, totally unbidden. Mmm, that sure feels nice. Her attentions actually arouse me again. My manhood surges as she rubs it up and down in the slippery, soapy crevice between her cheeks. Oh God, that'sreally good! I'm going to have to do her again now.

I ask her what she thinks of anal sex. I sometimes enjoy it at this point in my encounters and she's got me in the mood for it. She says she's never tried it, but I can feel that she's not naturally revolted by the idea. If she had been, I would have let the subject drop and entered her vaginally. Not that Icouldn't have done it with her anyway; it just would have taken more Charm to make her remember that she had loved it. Nowadays, I try not to use Charm to make a girl do something she wouldnever do otherwise.

I reach down to the soap dish and grab my bottle of Astroglide and another condom. As a teen I was too much of a loner to dream of being a Boy Scout, but I still try to be prepared. Melinda turns the spray against the wall, then bends over and presents. She tenses as I give her a good coating of the slippery stuff.

"Melinda, I know you're going to really enjoy this, so just relax," I tell her. Naturally, she does.

Her nice little rosebud is very sexy, sitting tight and proud right above her swollen and abused mound. I gently slide into her with one finger and she moans with pleasure. I'm mentally helping her a little with that, but most of the pleasure is real. I think that maybe she'll enjoy anal sex with others in the future. I begin to stroke in and out of her tight little hole faster and faster, eventuality adding a second finger.

"Oh my God, Jim! I never thought this would feel so good. Please, please, stick your big, hot cock in me! Oh yeah, fuck me up the ass!"

I generally don't talk dirty during sex. I don't even like to use the words 'cock' or 'pussy' when referring to it. Let's face it, it's not terribly romantic controlling a girl during sex, so I prefer not to compound it by talking that way. On the other hand, if Melinda wants to use that kind of language of her own volition, who am I to say no?

Since her request has been made and duly noted, I roll on the condom and take aim. Pressing forward, the head of my erection slowly presses through her sphincter. It's a tight fit and I have to push pretty hard, but she loves it. She gasps from the sensation, and then shudders as I slowly, determinedly work my way in to the hilt. She's amazingly tight and warm this way and as I begin to slowly thrust in and out, I know this one is going to be a monster.

Gradually, I pick up the pace. Her body is now accommodating my massive intrusion and Melinda is slamming her ample bottom back to meet my increasingly hearty thrusts. Soon the sound of slapping flesh fills the bathroom. After the exertions of our earlier coupling, it's taking me a while to build to a climax. I actually have to stop a couple of times to add more lubrication. At last I can feel the heat building in my groin. It won't be too much longer now.

I let Melinda know what I'd like her to do as I get closer and closer to my climax. She grabs the bottle of lube and makes ready. When I finally slide past the point of no return, I pull out and rip the condom off as she spins around and kneels in front of me. Melinda quickly deep throats me again, using her newfound skills, and slides two nicely lubricated fingers up inside me in one swift motion as I blow my wad down the back of her throat. I'm sure my release is only a fraction as powerful as what I madeher feel earlier, but I shudder so hard that I have to hold onto the shower's handicap rail to keep from falling over. I wouldn't be surprised if my moan is heard in the next room. Still, I'm careful to keep up the Charm.

At last I'm finished. I reach down and help Melinda to her feet, drawing her into a relaxed embrace as she holds my rapidly softening manhood in her hand. She turns the water on us and we snuggle for a few minutes under the warm spray until the last of my nerves returns to normal. I exit the shower first, dry off and dress while she cleans herself more thoroughly.

I pack a full complement of women's toiletries in my bag to allow a girl to look her best when she reappears in public. Sometimes I like to watch as they do their preparations, but this time I kick back and review a bit of our videotaped action on the tube while Melinda makes herself presentable, happily humming some tune or another. Heck if I know what it is; I don't follow what kids are listening to now days.

She's just applying the final touches with the blow-dryer as I finish loading the car. On the way back to the mall she reaches over and massages my thigh.

"Thank you for a wonderful time, Jim," she says, her face beaming, "that was by far the best sex of my life. I'll remember it forever."

She will, too. I know that wherever she goes, whenever anyone mentions great sex, she'll think of me. She'll never tell a word of the story to anyone – I've planted that suggestion strongly – but she'll treasure the experience in her heart for as long as she lives.

In the three or four hours since I picked her up, the mall parking lot has cleared out a bit, and the space next to Melinda's beat-up Corolla is empty. I pull in and with an effort, look her her squarely in the eyes. They're blue, I notice.

"I had a great time today, Gorgeous. I hope you did too?"

She nods emphatically, her face beaming.

"Wonderful." I change over to a conspiratorial tone. "Let's keep our time together as our little secret. I'll always remember you." Yeah, right. I'd like to, but there are just too many.

"It was, like, totally awesome!" she gushes.

Perfect. It's now time for the parting words I've chosen for her. The major improvements for her future life were made back at the motel room, but I like to leave a surface memory as well.

"You're one of the most wonderful girls I've ever met, Melinda. You don't ever need to worry about what other people think of you. You should only be with guys because you really like them, not because you want to make them likeyou. You deserve the best things this life has to offer, and if you work hard for them, you'll get them."

She doesn't ask if she can see me again; she instinctively knows that this has to be a one-time deal. I lean over and give her a gentle goodbye kiss. Melinda kisses me back, then opens the door and leaves me with a smile.

As she drives away, I gradually ease up on the Charm. When she stops at the end of the row, I release her completely. Through my binoculars, I can see the confused look on her face as she cranes her head around, looking for me. After a few seconds she gives up and drives away.

When I hit a woman with my Charm, she sees me as her ideal of the perfect man. Now, with the Charm off, I could walk up and start a conversation with her as if we had never met. That is, if she didn't run away in disgust.

I actuallydo make it a point to look up most of my girls a few months after dating them, just to make sure that I haven't caused them any harm and to make sure my suggestions are working. Of course, I have to turn on the Charm so I can be sure they'll talk to me. Naturally, that gets them all hot to make it with me again. It's really too bad that I can't let that happen.

The girls I follow up with generally show no signs of any harm. Much the opposite – I've gotten hundreds of them to quit smoking, stop binge drinking, give up drugs or other addictions, you name it. There are hundreds of kids out there whose moms' suddenly stopped years of physical and mental abuse. I also have the police tip line on speed dial. Not for little stuff, but I have no sympathy for people who sell drugs to kids.

I'm thirty-seven years old and have had carnal knowledge of 2,549 women, including Melinda. (I'm a professional day trader who's very meticulous about record keeping. Ofcourse I've tracked them all in a database!) Nevertheless, I think I've done some real good in this world during that time. I'm a basically moral person, and the good I do for my girls and the people around them is what allows me to internally justify what I get from them in return.

I know it sounds perverted to talk about having sex with women without their free-willed consent as a morally positive thing, but for at least the last seventeen years, every last one of them has left me thinking that they've received a very special gift. (Before that? Well, we'll get around to that in just a bit.) I don'thave to do any of the extra things that I do to make the experience positive for my girls. If I was a real cretin, I could leave each of them with the conviction that they'd been brutally raped and would never enjoy being with another man again. Or I could clean out their bank accounts and ask them to jump off a bridge. They would do it cheerfully if I asked them to.

So decide for yourself whether or not I'm any better than you would be in my position.

It started one fateful day when I was twelve. I woke up with my first wet dream and a strange new power over women. The wet dream was confusing enough – I was too ashamed to ask my mom about it – but being able to get women to do things, just by slipping into their minds andwilling them to? Now that was just plain freaky.

At first I didn't know how to control it and I almost went nuts. Girls were acting sostrangely around me. Soon, though, I recognized and learned to control my new talent.

During my junior high and early high school years, I only used it for kissing and a bit of light petting. My mom always told me that sex was something that only married people should do. I wasn't convinced, but she had her own experience guiding her on that one – I've never met my dad.

It was only after I turned eighteen and finally realized how many of my classmates were doing it that I took the plunge. I bought a twelve-pack of Trojans and quickly started to type names, dates and ratings into my Apple II E. I was back for my next twelve-pack in less than two weeks.

I've never heard of anyone else who could do what I do, and I frankly have no idea as to what makes it work. I tried to bring it up with my mom one time, but she looked at me like I was crazy. I immediately pretended that I had been joking and never brought it up again. I've never dared ask a professional about it. There's that whole CIA/guinea pig thing again.

I found it so easy to get girls this way that I never got around to attempting to date in the more normal fashion. I've always been socially awkward, to put it mildly, and had never had much of a social life anyway, so I looked on my talent as a welcome gift. Heck, when I turned the Charm on even my nearly debilitating stutter went away. Now I didn'tneed social skills.

As I got some experience, I learned the hard way about the rules to dating with Charm.

First, I can never let anyone she knows see us together. The person theysee her with is not the person shethinks she's with. I've had to make a run for it a few times when a friend has walked up to ask about the ugly guy she's with. I can only affect one mind at a time; this means my dates are strictly private, one-on-one deals.

Second, I can never allow myself to lose the handle. If I let go, even for a second, she'll see a totally different, but equally gorgeous man when I reapply the Charm. Why is this? My pet theory is that the face she puts on me forms in her mind the moment I turn on the Charm. Turning the Charm off and then back on again gives her subconscious a chance to redraw my face in adifferent image. The confusion this causes isn't pretty!

This also makes it impossible for me to use my talent to have a long-term relationship. I can't hold a girl for more than a few hours at a time. It took me a while to learn how to keep part of my mind focused on Charming her while doing other things. Later, it was second nature, like breathing. It's only during orgasm that I really have to be careful. Being male, my multi-tasking abilities are somewhat limited.

Third, I can never sleep with the same girl twice. Somehow, the second time around, she's able to break free when I climax. My theory here is that I send out a highly recognizable vibe when I ejaculate while using my Charm. Getting the same vibe from a 'different' man blows the illusion. At that point, they become completely immune to my talent. I made that mistake three times before I finally figured it out.

Try to explain to the most popular girl in your high school how you suddenly went from being Billy Dee Williams' sexier little brother to being that pale, rat-faced white boy from her third-hour Honors Biology class. Especially when you're buried in her privates up to the hilt and shuddering from an orgasm. That one got me beat up later by her linebacker boyfriend.

Fortunately, I can reliably discern whether a woman has experienced my Charm in the past, so I haven't made that mistake again. Being Charmed leaves an indelible, if evidently completely benign, mark on a woman's mind. I can even discern whether we've had sex or not. Good thing, too. With that many women, I'd never keep them all straight.

Learning about the fourth, and last rule is what got me into the biggest trouble. It's not particularly related to my talent, it's more just human nature. Very simply, I can never, ever,ever tellanyone about my talent. The way I learned this is a story unto itself.

A few months after I bought that first pack of rubbers, I stupidly told my friend Greg all about my Charm. Greg, like me, was a social outcast. He was almost as ugly as I was, but faced the added disadvantages of being very short and pudgy. He didn't have my talents, either. I hadn't become quite the cipher that I am now, so I had been able to maintain a friendship with him all through junior high and high school.

At first he refused to believe me, but when I pulled over and talked Cynthia Walker, the cutest girl in our second-hour American Government class, into sitting between us on the bench seat of my car, he became a believer. He talked me into trying to help him lose his virginity on his upcoming eighteenth birthday by getting him into a threesome. I'd already nailed Cynthia, but there was a hot college senior that I'd had my eye on. It sounded like a great plan when we put it together.

I caught Jill alone in the dorm parking lot when she got back from her evening swim team practice. After applying my Charm, she was happy to join me in my rusty Oldsmobile wagon. We talked for a bit so that I could establish that she met my qualifications. She giggled as I slipped a blindfold over her eyes.

My girls always enjoyed playing the "Blindfold Game". I did that a lot before I could afford to rent a motel room. They always thought it was fun, and it meant that they wouldn't get an inconvenient flashback if they ever happened to drive by my house later.