tagMind ControlA Night at the Club

A Night at the Club


"Hi, how are you?"

I turned and saw a slightly overweight, not-very-attractive man looking back at me.


"Can I buy you a drink?"


My eyes refocused on the dance floor. Why did I even come to this club any more? Lately there seemed to be a shortage of good looking guys, and in the vacuum I'd been hit on constantly by men too old, ugly, boring, or stupid (or all of the above) to be worth even a short conversation.

Not that I blame them; I'm 24 and a good looking girl. At 5'7" and 120 lbs, I've been told I should be a model. And while I fill out a 34C, have a washboard stomach, heart-shaped ass, and (so I'm told) beautiful legs, I'm busily pursuing a career in finance, and I have more than enough people appreciating my appearance without it being my job.

I smiled to myself as I thought of the skimpy top I was wearing. It was backless except for a small clasp at the bottom, tied around the neck, and scooped low. I couldn't wear a bra with it, but my breasts were more than firm enough to create some very healthy cleavage on their own. Along with a low-cut skirt that revealed my slender hips and the long, toned legs that extended beyond it, I attracted a lot of stares as I entered the club that evening.

"Here you go. My name's John."

Oh right, the guy. I took the drink and had a sip. Screwdriver. Figures the guy would think I'd want something like that.

"What do you do?" he asked, trying to get some return on his investment.

"Financial analyst," I said, dismissively. Assistant really.

He started to talk about himself and what he did for a living, but I wasn't really listening. As I surveyed the club and sipped my drink, I wondered why this guy thought he had a chance. He was at least 40, but his age wasn't the problem. He was simply the least sexy person I could imagine. He was about my height, and had slim shoulders, but also a bit of a belly and a posture that revealed a distinct lack of athleticism. He was slightly balding, his face sort of pudgy and mis-proportioned. He wore slacks that were too short, a white short-sleeved button-down, and a mismatched tie. He was also completely uncharismatic and oblivious to the fact that I was bored out of my mind as he continued to drone on about his work, something about pharmaceutical research.

I was about to make my escape when I sipped the last bit of screwdriver from the glass. John noticed immediately and ordered another (as guys usually do), and as he did, I realized he didn't look quite so bad as before. "Leave it to the alcohol," I thought. But as I looked at him standing there awkwardly, I became aware of a small but pleasant tingling in my breasts, and another in my loins. "Geez, I need to get out more," I said to myself as I turned back towards the crowd.

While John waited for the drinks, I watched people grind against each other on the dance floor. One man's hand was working its way up a girl's skirt; another's shirt was being unbuttoned by his partner. I began to moisten down below as seductive thoughts filled my mind. The tingling in my breasts grew more intense, and spread to my shoulders, back, stomach, and hips. I felt a little flushed; my vagina was aching, not painfully so, but in a way that made it yearn to be filled; and my clitoris was feeling so sensitive that just shifting my legs led to a large dose of stimulation.

About 3 minutes had passed when John cleared his throat to get my attention again. My eyes were closed, my breath short, and I'd started to have small involuntary convulsions as my body became overwhelmed with sexual arousal.

I turned to look at him. He was holding another drink, with a wide crooked smile on his face. Ordinarily I might have described it as creepy, but my thought just then was that it was kind of cute.

"Oh-," I squeaked out as my body flinched with another convulsion. I glanced down at his pants, suddenly curious as to what was underneath.

"Maybe you don't need another drink after all," John said has he smiled even wider and indiscreetly looked me up and down. "There's a hotel next door if you'd like to get a room with me."

In that moment, it sounded like the best suggestion I had ever heard. I nodded quickly and took his hand, leading him out of the club. The hotel was only 30 yards away, but as we entered the lobby and approached the desk, I was frantic, barely able to keep my hands off him. "We need a room," I told the clerk as I pulled out my credit card.

He checked his computer. "We only have a suite. It's $375," he replied curiously, looking from my face to my chest, then over at John, then back.

"Fine," I said without thinking and quickly signed the slip. I looked over at John and felt a rush run through me. Somehow he looked incredibly good. And I was going to have him. Now.

The doors of the elevator were still closing as I took John's head in both hands and started kissing him with a passion I'd never felt before. His lips weren't soft, and his technique was a bit awkward, but it didn't matter; every time my tongue entered his mouth I felt a surge of pleasure. My breasts felt so good pressed against his body, and he had put his arms around me, one hand low on my bare back, the other grabbing my perfectly shaped ass under the skirt.

When the doors opened I was able to stop long enough to make it down the hall, but I fumbled with the key. John calmly took it from me, smiling, and opened the door. The suite was huge, but I was interested in the size of only one thing.

I pulled John to the master bedroom by his tie and threw him down on the king size bed that awaited. I leaned over him, my hands immediately going to work on his belt and pants. John was getting an eyeful while I struggled, my breasts now dangling in plain view down my shirt.

I could feel his erection through his pants and when I finally got them down, a wave of pleasure went through me as I beheld his manhood. He was about average in size, but I was completely enthralled by the cock before me, taking it in my hands and licking it from bottom to top.

When I reached its head I quickly filled my mouth with it, sucking and bobbing as I my lips slid back and forth along its length, wrapping my tongue around it this way and that.

John groaned in pleasure, "Oh God... you're soooo goooood..."

I felt pride in knowing I was an expert at giving head. While I used one hand to help stimulate his dick, I cradled his balls with the other, occasionally reaching up to run my fingers across his substantial belly and hips. It was as if I was in a trance, with my own excitement somehow feeding off his. Every time his dick hit back of my throat, my sensitivity increased, my body inching closer to orgasm, and because of this, I started bobbing faster, sucking harder as my pleasure grew.

I wasn't even paying attention to John, but after a few minutes, he reached up to untie my shirt, finally revealing my full breasts in all their glory and waking me from my trance.

I decided I had enough of my clothes and, standing up, pushed my shirt, thong, skirt and shoes all off onto the floor in a single motion. John had backed up on the bed to hurriedly shed his clothing too, but stopped when he saw what I had just done.

"Holy shit," he whispered. "You're fucking perfect."

I stood there and smiled as he admired my naked body: six-pack abs, flawless breasts, slender legs, and a neatly trimmed pussy, dripping and open for him, my clit engorged and begging for relief. He didn't have long to look, since at this point I was desperate to get him inside me. I climbed across the bed and pulled off his pants and underwear just as he finished with his shirt.

John's cock was rock hard as I crawled on top of him, his hands moving straight to my breasts. When I felt him brush against my slit, I couldn't stand it any longer. I lowered myself onto him and came immediately with a loud grunt. It wasn't a long orgasm, but it was very intense, my body shuddering with the power of it, my toned abs flexing involuntarily.

When I opened my eyes, John looked concerned, perhaps wondering if that would be it for me. But the climax only increased my excitement, and I started to move him in and out of me. I was already working closer to another orgasm as I felt his thumbs caressing my large nipples. They'd been painfully erect since the club, perked slightly upwards and sitting high on my wide, rounded breasts.

I closed my eyes for the next thrust, then took his wrists with my hands and put them above his head, partially for my own stability as I moved ever faster. My breasts now swayed violently just inches above John's head. "Oh fuck!" I groaned as a surge of pleasure ripped through me and I came again, this time longer and even more intensely.

He took advantage of the pause to sit up on the bed and put his mouth on one breast, a hand massaging the other. John was definitely a breast man and he had come to the right place. He was clumsy, but his tongue on my huge nipple felt amazing. I put my arms around his bald head and wondered how I had become so attracted to this man.

I didn't think about it long though as another orgasm hit me by surprise, the pleasure seeming to flow from deep inside me out to my breasts and extremities. My hands and feet were tingling now, along with my nipples, which were unusually sensitive tonight. I held him close to me, relishing the feeling of my skin against his, his hard cock still sliding in and out of me. It was a feeling of joy that this man was loving me, having me, taking me as his own.

John was still sucking voraciously on my chest, but partly because I was getting tired and partly for a better angle, I leaned back, my stomach stretching out before him, putting my breasts out of his mouth's reach. He cupped one with his right hand and felt down my torso to massage my clit with his left.

I was still gyrating on him and soon after he made contact I came for the 4th time. This one shook me with incredible force and was much longer than the others- so long I had to catch my breath multiple times between the moans as my body spasmed on top of John for nearly a minute. My breasts shook as I repeatedly clamped around his cock and it wasn't long before I could feel it unleash inside me, his hot cum filling me. His body relaxed on the bed but I couldn't stop, my climax seeming never ending and overwhelming me while I rode him.

John could only look on in awe while I continued to gasp in pleasure. He smiled as he savored my slender figure, completely exposed and out of control above him. I was in my own world, completely absorbed in the feeling, unaware of the room around me.

The spasms gradually slowed as I came off the high, but even that monster orgasm wasn't enough to satisfy me. Feeling weak, I rolled off John onto my back and stretched out before him with a yearning look, one arm stretched above my head as I caught my breath, the other already fingering myself again.

"I need more," I said quietly, and John, sitting up and looking over my long legs and still sopping pussy, looked surprised.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He looked worn out and I remembered thinking how unathletic he seemed back at the club. It didn't matter right now. Here was a man that for some reason I found incredibly attractive, with a cock that had just given me the most pleasure I had ever experienced, and I wanted more! Still breathing heavily, I spread my legs, opening myself up and putting him between them.

"Fuck me again. Please! I need you inside me again. Make me yours." I must have been quite a sight- a beautiful young woman, on my back, naked, my large breasts resting atop my chest, my abs flexed, my long legs spread wide, with one hand massaging my clit, begging him to fuck me....

His cock, which had begun to soften, twitched back to life, and he leaned forward to suckle one breast again. Doing so put his manhood within reach so I took it in my free hand, still touching myself with the other, and massaged it gently. A wave of satisfaction and anticipation ran through me as I gradually felt it fully harden. John stopped sucking to look over me again and watch as I desperately worked his cock, hoping he would bless my pussy with its presence.

He slowly ran one hand over a breast, then down my tight stomach, over one hip, and along the inside of my leg. "Unbelievable," he said. "You are so perfect. Your body... just incredible..." He trailed off. I looked back at him, my eyes desperate, needing him to touch me more, needing him to fuck me. He smiled again. "And you want me, don't you? Want me more than anyone you've ever wanted?"

I was so horny now I could hardly stand it. I looked at him, with his balding head, crooked smile, slight pot belly and average dick, and thought, "Yes. Yes, I do. I want him inside me. I want him more than anyone I've ever wanted."

But I couldn't speak. My body was simply aching to be fucked; like at the club, pulses of pleasure were shooting through me, forcing involuntary convulsions of my abs and ass. I was breathing heavily now, my nipples erect, my cunt dripping with lust, longing for attention. I was in heat and could think of nothing else. My response was choppy.

"Yes... God, yes... Just please... fuck me. I... need you to... fuck me."

He mercilessly looked me over again for what seemed like an eternity, then moved forward, his cock ever nearer. My legs were already spread wide and I wrapped them around him, powerfully pulling myself towards him.

As soon as it was close enough I put the head of his dick in my entrance and flexed my legs to immediately get full penetration. "Ungh!" I groaned. It felt amazing having him inside me again, as though a great thirst had finally been quenched. I put my arms around him and pulled him to me, clawing at his back and using my legs to drive him into me.

I felt my eyes roll back as an orgasm rocked my body, my arms falling away half way through. He kept thrusting and almost before it was over, I felt another climax building. It wasn't exciting sex, but I didn't notice. All I could feel was the pleasure, the desire for more, as if my brain's entire focus was the overwhelming deepness of the physical bliss.

With each thrust, every part of my body throbbed with the sensation, seemingly in slow motion. My breasts swayed on my chest, my large nipples still very erect. My legs were so aware of the man between them, my smooth skin warm and loving his touch.

I came again, this time even more aware of myself contracting around his cock, massaging it further inside. My face was contorted, my eyes closed, a long moan sounding deep in my throat as my legs continued to force him into me. I reached to grab his ass, trying to make him thrust harder, faster in me. What I felt was overwhelming, another world, too much for this one as I became consumed by my body and what was happening to it.

It was all John could do to maintain control, as he drank in the sights of my slender body beneath him, the motion of my breasts with each thrust, and of his own hard cock penetrating me.

At this point John was an afterthought, but when I felt his dick swell, about to explode in me again, it took things to yet another level. Now my thoughts were only on his cock, and it filling me with his seed; the image of his hot cum bathing my insides sent me over another ledge. I inhaled, clenched around him, continuing to force him into me with my legs, and let out a long deep moan as I began my 7th orgasm of the night.

"Oh fuck!" he choked out as he erupted inside me. Each time his cock flexed, pumping semen into me, my euphoria grew deeper- my brain hardly even registering the source of the pleasure, just knowing that I was experiencing the greatest bliss of my life.

John was still inside me, and still thrusting even though his dick had begun to soften. He caressed one breast with his left hand, supporting himself with his right, and kneaded it, taking in its softness in contrast to my still-flexing stomach. My arms had long since dropped off him again, my eyes and head hazily rolling back and forth. I was alternating between arching my back and contracting my stomach; the pleasure was totally overwhelming my senses.

John decided to pull himself out as my orgasm gradually subsided. My mind was focused on the sensations still working inside me- small aftershocks compared to the previous earthquakes, yet still powerful spasms of ecstasy. My finely-toned body was laid out before him, naked and completely vulnerable, my long toned legs still spread wide, my large chest heaving, nipples still painfully erect, breathing heavily and completely exhausted. I was too tired to move, much less cover myself, and I didn't care.

John stood up and retrieved a small camera from his pants. He took a few photos of me from different angles, strategically putting me in various positions to get the shots he wanted- of my ass, back, legs, pussy, even sitting me up to get one of the full size and sway of my breasts. He asked me to stand, but I failed, falling back to the bed, too worn out to move. Unbelievably, as he took the pictures, I began to moisten again, and my hand moved to slowly massage my clit.

John took a few more, then he put the camera away. I watched, fingering myself, as he got dressed. "How do you feel?" he asked, sitting on the bed next to me.

"Ugh... good," I barely got out. "I still want more, but... I'm so tired...."

"I know. You'll be OK. Try to get some sleep- you should feel better in the morning."

"Mmmm... better than this?"

He smiled. "Well, no, but back to normal."

He sat and watched me touch myself for a long time. Then finally, he stood up to leave.

"Will I ever see you again?" I asked, yearning for the man that had brought me so much pleasure.

"Probably not. But you never know. I sure will keep an eye out for you. For now, good bye." And with that he left.

I laid there, feeling a bit of loss at his departure, but was still not quite connected to reality. I was still touching myself, and the last thing I remember was yet another orgasm approaching....


The next morning, I woke up, still nude, to the maid entering the room. Surprised to see me after I apparently slept through her knocking, she quickly exited. My vagina was a little sore, and I had a slight headache. I know I didn't sleep well. I have vague memories of waking up, masturbating to orgasm, then sleeping only long enough to recover.

Other than really needing a shower and having to endure a walk of shame back to my apartment in that revealing top, I tried to remember what had happened- I vaguely remembered finding John repulsive, but the overwhelming memory was my desire for him, for his cock, for how he made me feel.

I'm not an idiot- I know he must have slipped me some sort of drug. But after that night, I didn't care. It was an amazing experience, and I know that if I had the chance, I would do it all again. In fact, I think I would do anything- anything- just to feel that way again.

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