Teasing Out Hypnosis Ch. 02

Nodding, Agatha smiled and jumped to her task, not caring, of course, that she was completely naked with her entire body on show. Steve had given the gardener some time off so there was no risk of them being caught and seen, which was a blessing after the highly risqué nature of the motorbike ride that had gone a little awry and almost gotten them exposed. It had been kinkily erotic to the extreme, however, and something that he would absolutely be up for again, even if not at that moment.

No... No, he wanted to see Agatha, stretching back on the sofa, though she had to leave the room to get the supplies required, bringing everything back in turn. That, at least, allowed him the chance to enjoy her body, her jiggling buttocks bared with a curl of hair visible even from the rear. And that in itself was perfect for him.

"What brushes do we need?"

Steve shook his head and smiled.

"No... No, I've changed my mind. No brushes."

Her eyebrows shot up.

"No brushes?"

"No..." He said, pausing deliberately for effect. "You are going to be the brush. Just leave the brushes for now."

Blushing, Agatha chuckled and licked her lips.

"Oh, Steve... You are too good to me! Coming up with all these lovely ideas to keep me entertained... You always have ideas!"

She praised him as if he had come up with the best thing in the world, allowing him to direct her to lie down on her back, legs spread, paint smeared down her back, her legs, even her hair. She'd assured him that it would wash off later but, even then with her eyes sparkling, he was quite sure that she would have allowed him to do it anyway, lusting for him as much, if not more, than he lusted for her. Nothing would have stopped them from living out their biggest fantasies right then and there, even if they were, duly, mostly fantasies born from Steve's imagination and it was time to see just what art their naked bodies could paint.

Maybe next time a sheet could act as a canvas but there was something erotic too about seeing paint -- acrylics to start with -- splashed across his body, a work of art in himself before he penetrated her. His cock was free and ready to plough his grandmother once again but that part of himself Steve had ensured was free of paint, if only for the concern forcing it up into her pussy would cause. A trip to the hospital, of course, was not something that was at all on the agenda for him when kinkier pleasures awaited him!

He moaned, scooting her back across the canvas as she rolled her head back, baring her throat. A necklace would do well on her too another time and Steve hungrily devoured her body with his eyes as he hooked one of her legs up and back, his arm pushing into the back of her knee as he tested the limits of her flexibility. She was a work of art and she needed to see that too, to paint their delectable elegance in the throes of passion, Steve's shaft driving into her. She had to bear back against him a little harder than usual to keep her position, head hanging off the edge of the canvas, although neither of them was willing to take note of the paint on the floor.

No... No, that was not something that he had to worry about. Someone else could clear up the mess at another time, work it out of the carpet and wonder just what that strict yet crazy old lady had been up to. He could guarantee, of course, that their guesses would never be correct.

"Please, Steve," his grandmother breathed, eyes desperately plaintive. "Take me... Oh, you feel so good..."

She didn't have to talk much when their bodies could do the talking for them, whimpering and moaning, his cock throbbing inside her, on the tip of breaking over the edge. He had been close enough to cumming before he'd slipped into her pussy, the curl of hair tickling his lower abdomen as he bore in as deeply as possible, but her climax rising up was more than he could handle. Thus it was that they climaxed together, moans rising where they only had one another to enjoy them, privacy the name of the game that brought them ecstasy over and over again.

One time would not be enough as her buttocks made an imprint on the canvas, marking it in pink and red, the precise shades of which had bypassed his notice. Who cared? His head swirled in sensuality as if he had partaken in alcohol or similar before filling his grandmother, although Steve was perfectly sober. He had to be in order to enjoy her as he truly wanted to.

He didn't want to miss a thing.

But her on her back would not do for what he had in mind and he sat Agatha up on his dick to paint her tits, hands streaking them in purple and orange, not really caring what paint he used. It did not matter for what he had in mind, putting her on her front with her arms supporting her torso just a little. It may have only been a little but it was enough for her tits to hang beneath her, thick and heavy with paint, which dripped from her nipples, splattering droplets over the already streaked canvas. It would be interesting when they were done but he doubted very much that he would bother again with the canvas after the night was ended.

His cock drove up deep inside her, seeking out the deepest penetration that he could possibly acquire, whimpering and grunting, not caring what sounds came from his lips. There was only one way to take what he wanted from the liaison, moaning and groaning, his words blurring into a cacophony of devout ecstasy. Paint smeared and streaked the canvas as he used the thrusts and shifts of her body to paint with her tits, the nipples more delicate brushes even if his execution in the painting lacked some manner of charm and execution.

He was not an artist in that sense but he was an artist that could take control, manhandling and sweetly manipulating her as he laughed harshly, orgasm building once more. It didn't seem to take Steve any time at all anymore to get ready to fuck again after climaxing once, even though he wasn't so sure that he went completely soft between sessions either. It seemed to be something that his body more naturally came into but, really, if that manner of mind control was possible, it stood to reason that such a small manipulation of a man's own body could be brought up into reality too in its coarsest of forms.

Steve groaned, bearing her down, squeezing her tits as he lustfully painted with them, laughing on the edge of climax. He had to keep going, thrusting into her, moaning and panting, driving on to his ultimate high. The canvas splattered with paint and smeared, streaks of lust cutting through the noise, an abstract piece at its finest even though he wasn't paying any attention really to what shapes and designs he created. No, Steve was too caught up in grunting and groaning as he took orgasm for his own, howling and letting his pleasure be known, spurting his load into his grandmother.

She moaned as his seed trickled from her, teasing over the strained lips of her pussy, though her cunt was more than used to taking his cock by that point. It was easy for her and she braced herself as much as she could, snatching in needy breaths, her hips rising and grinding back into his crotch with each and every driving thrust. He shook her body as if she was just a toy to be used as and when he wanted to use her, ramming in as his cum drooled from her pussy, mixing with the paint. If it was mixed in, however, that was yet another thing that would add to the art of their passion, their relationship as twisted as the masterpiece (debatable at best) that their bodies were set on creating.

Lust could rise and fall, however, and the hour of the day had to catch up with them eventually. Agatha moaned as she climaxed again but they'd long ago lost count of just who had had how many orgasms during the course of that evening alone. Turning her onto her side, he ploughed her from behind once more, grasping her tits as he let the shape of her body, light rolls of fat gently acting as a brush, mark the canvas, squirting more and more paint over her body and his until it seemed like there wasn't even a single patch of skin left. Her collection of paint was duly ruined but Agatha could buy more and paint even more beautiful paintings with the passion he had drawn up in her heart, finding fresh inspiration for kinkier and more sordid designs than ever. After Steve had left her home for college, she would wonder, of course, just where her inspiration for such things had come from and hide the paintings away, but she would always wonder just where that particular one with such energetic streaks of paint and an erratic design had come from. She didn't remember painting that!

Yet it would be done by her if not by her own hand, pushed onto her back as he chuckled and fucked her, a handprint in blue cementing their tryst. The paint was running low but, for their final hurrah, he made sure that her buttocks were firmly planted on the canvas, the wood breaking as the canvas itself stretched and bowed, unable to take the weight of too highly energetic human bodies on top of it and duly so.

However, there was only so much paint to go around at the end of the night and the weariness of fucking so keenly had to take a toll on their bodies too, wearing them down as they groaned and thrust, his cock resting on top of her pussy, not inside her at the moment. No, he wanted one final imprint of their lovemaking in the last of the paint, pushing her back for his final thrust and sealing his cock into her pussy with a low howl of lust, another hefty load of man-cream flooding her, although even Steve was softer on the edge of his virility than usual.

Even a man like him, so much in charge and control, had to rest from time to time and he too needed to be aware of his limits. Heaving and panting over his grandmother, her breasts rising with breath, he kissed her passionately, forcing his tongue into her mouth in a forceful fit of dominance, caught up in the moment in the best of ways. Her breasts squeezed to his chest and he luxuriated in the sensation, pinning her back all the way down to the canvas as she whimpered into his mouth, giving herself over to his final climax with the softness of a lover's breath mingling with his.

Exhausted, Steve and Agatha managed to get themselves up the stairs to 'their' bedroom, one step after the other, falling into bed without even bothering to take the time to wash the paint from their bodies. The sheets could be thrown away and, really, it was not a big concern of either of theirs to worry about that, falling asleep wrapped up in each other's arms and, despite getting off so many times, his cock sealed up inside her pussy all over again, just so that they could sleep in the way that they now found the most comfortable.

He wasn't so sure, after all that they'd done together, that he could even sleep without his cock inside her anymore, and it ensured he went to sleep with a smile on his lips.

Every night.

*

The last day before he went back to see his parents was one that he would remember forever, although he had tried to see if there was anything he could do to extend his stay. Alas, the time was coming where he would have to choose his college courses after his working gap year, his year of experiences in so many ways, and he would have to begin visiting campuses at the very least. The good thing there, however, was that he wouldn't have to be trapped in his parental home for too long, as much as they were trying, in their own strange way, to look out for him.

Like so many others, they'd forgotten that he was an adult and an adult didn't need anyone to hover over them. Much less when they held more cards than just their own in the palm of their hand going forward.

Mind control was only the start of it.

For once, however, Steve decided that it was his turn to cook, sending Agatha out to prettify herself and make her body look the best it could be for him, even though he already lusted for her like no one else. Her skin soft and pliable, tender to the touch -- ah, that was just what he wanted for her in their final night together while he worked on his own surprise for her in the kitchen. That one would be due her attention and he wanted to be able to sit back and most certainly enjoy the view while she gulped down every last delicious bite of what he was cooking up for her. After all, he wouldn't want to miss a thing and having a good memory of this time with her was more than just a little bit important considering how he had learned in his time with Agatha.

Humming to herself, Agatha curled her hair, teasing it into a more modern style as her fresh curls bounced around her shoulders, teasing in a flirty fashion before the mirror. One after the other fell into place and her eyes shone like those of a much younger woman -- a running theme that had come up in her mind time after time again since Steve had come to visit her that time. Why was that? Did the young man, even though he wasn't that young anymore, revitalise her with something like a new lease of life?

It mattered and didn't matter, in the sense that she had to keep Steve there, loving and lusting after her. Her grandson had changed so very much for her that she couldn't imagine not having him there with her anymore, even though she accepted, in her heart, that he would eventually have to go home. She parted her lips for a touch of lipstick in a girlier shade than she would have usually have gone for -- but she did it anyway because Steve said it looked good on her. And just why would she not have wanted to do something that made her lovely Steve so very happy?

Everything for Steve, just to make him happy. It didn't make any difference to her whether it was strange or not, just that she could push things further, do more and lust after everything that he had brought to light for her. Licking her lips lightly, she dabbed her lips off with a tissue that didn't smudge them, murmuring to herself as she anticipated all that was left to come that night. For the evening was still young as far as she was concerned and there was more to be had when it came to her grandson.

Her words or his? Those seemed to have gone around her head rather a lot lately... Oh, well. There was no worry to be had in it.

A mini dress that barely contained her tits, laced up at the front to show off a slice of cleavage between her breasts, skin exposed all the way down to her belly button as if in a deep, plunging neckline. But it was far from a look that she would have taken out on the street any day of the week, glistening in crimson that rendered her something of a seductress at the height of sex toy fashion. It gleamed like latex but was not quite such, even though she didn't really care what the fabric was, as long as it made her look good. And she looked better than good!

She looked amazing. And she couldn't wait to see what Steve thought of it!

She practically bounced down the stairs to see him, although that was a harder shot still with her shockingly high heels, the stabbing points of them jabbing down into the stairs with each and every step. They were not quite as high as perhaps Steve would have liked in his wildest fantasies but, truly, those sort of heels for someone her age were more of a horizontal affair, best seen when her legs were slung lustfully back over his shoulders. They glittered with diamonds, a cheeky purchase that made her glitter more than gold itself, and she giggled like a schoolgirl all over again as she flounced into the dining room.

"Hi, Steve!"

She didn't draw out the vowels but she was high-pitched enough for him to look up from where he was setting the table, an eyebrow raised curiously.

"Well, well, well..."

His reaction was instantaneous as he smirked and straightened his back, twirling his finger to request her to turn around. Agatha caught on to his meaning instantly and did so with a girlish squeal, hands fluttering as if she did not quite know what to do with them. But that was alright as his eyes were not on her hands by any means but raking the length of her body, drinking in the delicious beverage that was her hips, wide and chubby, all the way up to her thick waist and sagging tits. He didn't like them to be restrained in a bra unless that was all she was wearing and the dress cupped them perfectly, allowing their natural form to show even though it squeezed them in and down, too tight for her body but perfect for his eyes.

Taking her hand, he brought it to his lips and kissed it, eyes dancing.

"You're delicious."

And she knew she was, moaning softly as he took her in his arms, though did not kiss her, holding her tight and close just to feel her body pressed up against him. It was a moment indeed that he would savour, the feel of her breasts and her legs kicked out, calves shaped as the dress only came down to the middle of her thighs, if that. He needed, after all, to be able to push it up and reveal her sex, although he didn't want to yet see what underwear she was wearing. Steve grinned and seated her at the table. No... No, that was a treat that he would save for a little later, the last fuck before he went home. Who knew just how long it would be before he was able to come back again? For it was already certain that he was, indeed, coming back again to see her.

Sometime. He didn't know when but sometime indeed was definitely on the cards.

While she waited patiently at the table for him, thinking solely that she was being doted on like a loving grandmother, Steve had something kinkier in mind. She would not know, however, until the deed was done just how far he had pushed things to bring her submission well and truly under his control, working away in the kitchen with one of his grandmother's recipe books. With his control and influence over her, she would, of course, love anything that he cooked up for her but there was a secret ingredient that he'd both been collecting over the last few days and added at the penultimate moment too for the best flavour.

Or so he'd read online... That wasn't something that he'd done before but, truly, he was not going to be the one eating it either, so it was by the by how it came out. It would delight him simply to watch each and every delectable mouthful enter her mouth, smirking cruelly as he retrieved the pie from the oven with the curiously huge over mitts in red and white cloth, everything that a grandmother of her age could have wanted in their styling. The kitchen was small yet neat, clearly not a room that she over-utilised on her own, but it was more than enough for her and easy enough for Agatha to get around for what she needed when it was, indeed, in use. To Steve's knowledge, she preferred dining out in her old age or having meals that required a little less work to hand for when she was cooking alone and not entertaining at home either.

But that was not the point, just another note about his grandmother that he'd managed to change during his time there. She'd cooked for him with relish as she served up delicious meal after meal, proving her skill, and it was time to lock in his control over her, pulling her down into such delightful swathes of submission that Agatha simply would never again want to leave. The pie steamed, topped with puff pastry, and he set the dish on the side, preparing to serve it up.

Vegetables too, though those were not so much of his concern, popping them onto the plate and then cutting a good chunk of the pie out with some difficulty for Agatha. It steamed, fresh from the oven, and he cursed under his breath as he wrangled it onto the plate, although it was not the tidiest slice that he could have grabbed but, really, he was getting sloppier and sloppier as he knew that he would not be judged for it. Well, that wasn't something that should have ever been of such high importance day in and day out and he grinned as he added the final touch to her meal: the gravy. That was the most important thing of all and that most certainly did not matter if it splashed everywhere, not neat and tidy or presentable at all on the plate but delicious all the same.