An evening with Sandra

There was something about Sandra that landed differently for me. Perhaps it was the way she openly flirted with me before getting matched in the app. I felt like there could have been a little spark of something there even without magical assistance. What's more, she was beautiful and professional. I felt (and acted on) the urge to clean up my apartment for her visit. It was difficult to keep my mind on work that afternoon, but I'm sure it would have been far worse if I hadn't had her take the edge off earlier...

Anyway, shortly before 5pm the doorbell rang. Thinking it was Sandra, I opened the door with a confident smile, only to see it was the dinner I had ordered for us. But Sandra was just on the heels of the delivery driver and approached hesitantly.

“Hi,” she said as I stood in the doorway holding our dinner. “I'm really not sure what I'm doing here, but-”

“Come on in,” I interrupted. “I know it's unusual to have a first date in someone's home, but it just seemed right. You think so, too.” This relaxed her a little, but her mind was still trying to put the pieces together. “I'm surprised you remembered the plans we made after we met at the coffee shop today,” I prompted. “You seemed pretty distracted. But hey, you're here now.”

“Yeah,” she said, a little dazed. “Yeah, that makes sense.” With that, Sandra entered my apartment. She looked around at the place and made polite compliments on the décor. I directed her to the table and we enjoyed a nice meal together. Once she relaxed, Sandra was an excellent conversationalist. I knew from our initial meeting that she was naturally a little flirty, but my commands from earlier seemed to have magnified that greatly. Her shoes removed, I felt her feet bump against my legs under the table. Then more than a bump. Then a foot made its way up to my thigh. Laughing at funny stories resulted in her hand reaching out to playfully hit my arm, but then the hand would linger and run up and down my bare skin. I was trying not to be so distracted by the physical subtext that I missed the fun we were having just talking.

As the evening progressed, I exercised all the restraint I could to keep from commanding her to let me ravish her then and there. I really wanted my commands to drive her to move us forward. I wondered if I had given her enough to work on, since it was taking so long. We had been talking and flirting for two hours, having moved to the couch after the meal. And yet all our clothes were on and only the most innocent of touches had passed between us.

Even with the blowjob earlier that day, my desire for her was racing. And yet, perhaps because I had gotten some release, I was able to think clearly and tempted to end the evening, remove my earlier commands, and see where this relationship could go without magical mind control. But the image of her tear-stained face gagging on my cock kept spurring on my arousal and reminding me of what was possible.