Enshrined

Simon emerged from his drowsiness to hear the sound of the shower running. He momentarily contemplated joining his girl in there. But he quickly decided against it. He was still too tired to be interested in fooling around again, and in any event, it felt like a good idea for both of them to recharge their batteries for later.

Nonetheless, he couldn't help but give her a friendly goose when she removed her towel, after exiting the bathroom. Chaarvi responded with a delicious giggle.

Shortly afterward, they set about preparing dinner together, before sitting down at the quaint little dinner table, which looked like something that belonged in a grandma's house.

The meal was initially complimented with some superficial telepathic conversation, but toward the end, the conversation had dwindled off. They both understood that they didn't need to have anything to say, in order to enjoy one another's company.

Between bites, Simon stared across the table at his captivating date, and mused on the incredible day they had shared. From the sound of those sweet words upon the picnic blanket, "I love you, too," echoing within his mind like a cathedral choir, to their exhilarating session in the bedroom earlier.

At the time, it had felt like a guilty little lapse in self-control. After all, no more than 24 hours previously, they had pledged to abstain from having sex during the day, in order to make the most of their vacation. But now in hindsight, Simon realized it was a very appropriate way to celebrate their relationship.

That dominant-servile sexual dynamic was an intrinsic part of their relationship. It was one of the many things that made their relationship so special and unique; and they both loved it. Simon obviously delighted in having a gorgeous girlfriend who would immediately obey a mental summons to remove her top and rub her perfect tits all over his cock. And Chaarvi drew sincere happiness from pleasing her beloved master. She liked being controlled by him.

This was their relationship. This was how they lived. This was how they loved.

It wasn't conventional by any means, and it would've been an unpalatable way of life for many others. But that didn't matter. It suited them both to a tea. For Simon, it really drove home Chaarvi's earlier comment that they belonged together. He was so grateful that they had found one another. As he met Chaarvi's smitten gaze across the table, he knew she was thinking the exact same thing.

After dinner, they sat down together in front of the TV and indulged Chaarvi's penchant for cheesy vintage sci-fi films; Fantastic Voyage, followed by the original Journey To The Center Of The Earth. They simultaneously erupted into a raucous a cappella of the Indiana Jones theme, upon the scene where the movie's protagonists were chased down the cavern by a rolling boulder. They stifled their laughter together, while sharing facetious observations about how special effects 'clearly peaked' in 1959, when the film clumsily attempted to pass off poorly-disguised iguanas as fearsome dinosaurs. When the protagonists' cute little pet duck/mascot was killed, Chaarvi leaned solemnly into Simon's shoulder, and he squeezed her firmly.

Then, after the movies, they eagerly retired to bed.

After a little bit of aimless rolling about, making out, they eventually ended up in the lotus position. Chaarvi tenderly pulled Simon to her breasts, knowing how much he loved to smother himself within them and suckle upon her.

As he feasted upon her tits, Simon was reminded of that first afternoon, when they began their sexual relationship. Under his mental command, Chaarvi had sauntered over to him, sat upon his lap, and likewise presented her glorious breasts to him. He suckled and adored them for ages. It had been the hottest moment of his life, up till that point. Yet it was framed within the context of two anxious strangers, stumbling in to a strange and unpredictable sexual affair, which neither of them felt entirely comfortable with.

They had come so far since then.

Now Chaarvi offered her breasts to him, not out of some supernatural compulsion, but out of love. She welcomed the sweet, familiar sensation of her beloved master's teeth and tongue dancing across her erogenous nipples. Her whole body settled in to his cozy embrace, with a natural sense of safety and belonging. On that first afternoon, she could barely look at him without him compelling her to do so. Now, whenever their eyes met, she felt a sense of loss when the eye contact broke.

As for Simon, he was no longer holding some random, smoking-hot bombshell who had just happened to fall completely under his mental enslavement. He was holding Chaarvi, the girl of his dreams; the love of his life. His arms had been made to embrace her, just as she had been made to fill them. The boundless love that radiated from her breasts tonight tasted infinitely better than the shallow sexual release they'd given him on that first afternoon.

Chaarvi heaved patiently and consistently upon Simon's cock. Neither of them were in any particular rush to get to their ultimate destination. They were enjoying the journey well enough as it was.

Simon lifted his head to drink tender, loving kisses from Chaarvi's lips. He gazed into her eyes, which glistened in the ambient moonlight with tears of happiness. Simon understood, without her needing to say a word.

The kisses continued for several minutes, steadily escalating in passion. Chaarvi's hips likewise grew more and more insistent.

When the arousal between them had reached a fever pitch, they fell back upon the bed, with Chaarvi on top. The kisses kept growing hungrier, as did Chaarvi's hips. The old, wooden bedframe began to creak, and the still night air was disturbed by sighs and moans of wanton excitement.

As they neared their mutual climax, Simon tightly embraced Chaarvi's waist, constraining her movement. But her hips still had enough freedom to pump away at him furiously, and so they did. Chaarvi was typically an enthusiastic lover, but Simon was surprised by just how cock-hungry she seemed to be tonight. He figured she must still be experiencing some residual effect from his little mind control experiment earlier in the week.

Simon surrendered to Chaarvi's tenacious efforts with roaring blasts of semen. Her tender snatch squeezed him tightly, as she mercilessly milked him for every last drop. Their hips trembled as they struggled vainly to keep the cycle of penetration going. Their heavy breaths shivered with animalistic rapture.

When the rush had passed, their mouths found one another once again. No words passed between them through their psychic channel; just a single unambiguous emotion: love, which swirled around them both like a magical blanket. They sealed the sentiment with countless light, lazy kisses, until they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms.

Epilogue

After skimming several pages of the heavy book, Simon realized it was not the volume he wanted. He was about to put it back, when he inadvertently looked through the gap he had just created on the bookshelf, and spotted a vaguely familiar figure, standing amongst a group of girls on the far side of the library. It took him a while to put a name to the face: Francine Vandromen.

He was amazed.

He recalled, only a few months ago, being so captivated by that woman; believing her to be, beyond any doubt, the hottest girl on campus. He remembered musing how he would've gladly given away a kidney, just for the chance to have one proper screw with her.

But now, she seemed so banal; so ordinary.

She was still shamelessly flaunting that same voluptuous figure with the same tight, provocative clothing. But Simon simply wasn't impressed anymore. To him, she was just another girl on campus.

It was remarkable how much his perceptions had changed in such a short space of time.

"He-hey! Simon!" a familiar voice bellowed from behind his right shoulder. "Jesus, dude, I've been trying to get you for days! Where the fuck you been?"

"Hmm? Oh... Hi, Rus'," Simon sheepishly replied, having been caught off-guard by Rusty's sudden appearance. "Yeah, I been tied up studying."

"24/7 for the past three weeks? Bull-shit!" Rusty argued, with the typical crude candor that often earned him disapproving glares from members of the faculty and some of the more clean-cut students. "C'mon man, are you ghosting me, or what?"

Simon knew Rusty well enough to know that he wouldn't have particularly cared if Simon answered, "yes," to that. But all the same, he didn't have the heart to be so unkind.

"No, no. I just really need to make sure I know this stuff. Finals are coming up real soon, dude!" he answered. "And it took me ages to work through that 'stress dispersion' assignment. I was burning the midnight oil all week long on that one."

A cheeky smirk flickered on to Simon's face for a split second. Technically, that wasn't a lie. In a way, he and Chaarvi had been conducting repetitive stress tests on his mattress every night that week. All the same, he doubted either of them would be able to claim extra course credit for it.

"Really? Damn, dude, I thought you were an ace at all that stuff! I didn't know you had so much trouble with it!" Rusty remarked in sympathy.

"But it barely contributes to our final grade, right?

"You're worrying way too much about this shit, man. That ain't healthy. It's a sure-fire road to burning out and dropping out. You gotta ditch the books some time and relax!

"Hey! I tell you what: this Friday, you are coming out partying with me and the guys!" Rusty insisted, without giving Simon any fair chance to respond. "Last weekend, we went to this party up in Lindale... And holy fuck, dude... the women up there put out like you wouldn't believe! I scored with this chick; she was a little..."

Rusty's overbearing voice faded into the background of Simon's mind as a familiar, pleasant sensation came over him. It was a sense of the room around him growing warmer and brighter; much like when the sun reappears from behind a cloud, except that he was indoors.

His Little Gray Mouse was nearby. In fact, he could sense her silently slinking past, right behind him; no doubt clutching her satchel tightly to her breast, in that meek posture that her public alter-ego never deviated from. Simon didn't give the game away by turning around to look at her. Merely feeling her divine grace radiating upon his back was enough for him.

As she passed him by, Chaarvi telepathically transmitted an image to him: a sort of psychic sext. It was an image of herself, striking a provocative pose in her aquamarine satin chemise with the black trim - the one that really enhanced her cleavage. Just a little something to whet his appetite for that evening, no doubt.

The image sent a tingle of delight up Simon's spine. A slow, dreamy sigh billowed from his nose, as a goofy grin spread across his face.

He gazed once more through the gap on the bookshelf, to the belle of the campus: Francine Vandromen, the babe every guy like Rusty wanted more than anything else in the world. Plain, old Francine Vandromen; who, on her best day, couldn't hold a candle to the incognito minx passing discreetly behind him right now.

"Pfft! Women? You can keep them, Rus'," Simon thought to himself. "Me? I get to go to bed every night with a goddess."

The End

Author's Note: Thank you for reading. I really hope you enjoyed this story. If so, please take a few seconds to rate it and write a comment below. It really means a lot to authors, like myself, to hear back from our readers.