Subliminal Suggestion Ch. 01

She didn't have an orgasm when we had sex this way. But it was clear that she was satisfying a more urgent desire she had.

It was during this wonderful period that Betsy also started enjoying facials. She usually preferred to suck me off straight into her mouth. But sometimes she'd pull back and finish me by jacking me off all over her face and tits. When she did, she always made a great show of scooping up every drop of cum and sucking it into her mouth to savor and swallow.

But, then, things tapered off. To tell the truth, at first it didn't bother me much. I mean, blowjobs twice a day are a pretty terrific thing, but I was fine with a little less frequency, too.

I got concerned, though, when Betsy began sometimes going back to her old pattern of breaking off a blowjob to tell me that she needed to feel me in her cunt and, then, sticking with the fucking until I'd come.

After a few weeks of this tapering off, I decided that it was time to begin a refresher course with the recording.

I did things just as I had before. Why mess with success? I found that I had actually missed hearing the recorded messages as I drifted off to sleep. Well, maybe not missed them, exactly. Every night I'd fallen asleep after great sex with Betsy, always capped off with her sucking me off. But hearing the tape again as I lay in bed falling asleep was enjoyable. I'd watch Betsy sleeping peacefully and know that those beautiful lips would soon be again following every command on the recordings.

Now, as I visualized what was to come (cum?), it wasn't just fantasizing; I could draw on the memories of the last month—vivid visual and tactile memories.

The turnaround in Betsy's behavior was pretty quick. It took only a few days until we were back to the pattern of best behavior. I decided, though, to keep up the subliminal persuasion for at least a week and, then, to try to do it a once or twice every couple of weeks to keep her in the groove.

Of course, I could always scale things back if I got tired of blowjobs. But what were the chances of that? I'm a guy, after all. In fact, I'd found myself increasingly fixated on blowjobs.

When I went to view porn, which wasn't nearly as often as it used to be by the way, I always went to blowjob porn, facials, cum-eating and such. I watched as those big, hard cocks were coxed into spewing their sweet semen into some girl's beautiful mouth or all over her face. I watched the veins on those cocks pulsing with excitement. I watched the guys' balls pull up just as they were preparing to shoot their creamy loads. I watched how the girls yearned for their reward and worked so earnestly to get it.

It was all incredibly exciting. Far from getting tired of getting, or thinking about getting, blowjobs, I became increasingly obsessed with them.

Betsy's "refresher course" completed, I was set for another great run of terrific blowjobs. But I wasn't set for what actually happened next.

I was a happy man—an incredibly happy man, really—until I came home that one fateful day. The gardener's truck was in the driveway, as it always is when he's working at our house. I was a little irritated, without any real justification, because his truck blocked me from getting in the garage and I'd have to move my car later. No big deal, though.

When I walked through the door, there was a big deal! Carlos was sitting on the couch in the living room with his pants down to his ankles and Betsy was kneeling between his knees, working his stiff cock in and out of her mouth. She was in the same "demon possessed" state she gets in when she sucks my cock.

It took me a few beats to react. The whole scene was beyond belief. Betsy had never cheated on me before. I was sure of that. And I was certain, too, that she didn't think that Carlos was that attractive or otherwise a good person to have a fling with. I just couldn't wrap my head around what was happening.

"BETSY!" I finally managed to scream out in shock. It took her a few beats to react, too. That's how engrossed she was in what she was doing.

When she finally pulled her mouth away from Carlos's cock, she turned toward me, wiping her mouth of the spit and pre-cum that covered her lips.

She looked ... not ashamed or humiliated, but confused. Her lips started to move, but she didn't say anything. It was as if she didn't really know what she was doing or why she was doing it. But her hand was still on the base of Carlos's erect cock—a cock still shiny with Betsy's saliva. And, from time to time, her eyes would drift back to Carlos's cock. When they did, I could see the yearning in her eyes.

I realized that I'd succeeded in making Betsy a cock-sucking slut—a woman ravenous for cocks and cum. My subliminal suggestion tape had been extraordinarily successful. I just hadn't been as specific as I should have been.

Now, what was I going to do?