My power works!

I finally got back to sleep; it was hard with my beautiful sister’s bare tits in my back, and my cock stiff and hard, just wanting to fuck her. I don’t know what time I fell asleep, but I had the strangest dreams all night, dreams of sex with Ms. Sorenson, with Cynthia, and my other two step sisters. I dreamed of fucking them hard, fucking them to dominate them, to control them. I remember Ms. Sorenson bent over the kitchen table; my cock was hard, bigger than it had ever been and I was fucking her from behind, slamming my cock to the hilt in the nasty bitch’s tight cunt, slamming my cock to the balls over and over. I could feel my orgasm begin and suddenly I woke blowing my load, right into my sister’s warm, wet mouth.

“Damn, that’s good Cynthia,” I moaned as I pumped my hips, driving my cock into her mouth as I ejaculated, my cum filling her waiting mouth. She drank down every drop and then stood looking at my. Her little pink nipples were stiff and hard on her firm tits. She did not have massive tits, but they were perfectly shaped, slightly upturned, the oversize nipples pointing into the air. I could feel my cock stir again, and I realized that I wanted to fuck her, fuck her hard. She was so pretty, her blond hair framing her perfect face, and body flawless, I could make out the mound of her cunt through the thin white panties she was wearing and I wondered if she was wet and turned on from sucking my cock.

Then I heard Ms. Sorenson yelling from upstairs, “Cynthia where are you? You are going to be late if you don’t get your little butt into gear.”

That seemed to break the spell between us and Cynthia grabbed her night shirt off of the floor and covered her bare tits, and then ran out the door without saying a word to me. My cock was standing out thick and hard, and I could feel the echo of my head ache from the night before. How had I done that? I just thought at them and they did what I wanted. I being to wonder what else I could get my family to do, then I realized that I could make anyone do what I wanted. I wonder what the limits were, and then I thought about how I might plan to test them.

I heard Ms. Sorenson coming down the stairs, Anna Sorenson, my “mom” if you could call the cruel way she had raised me as being motherly, was 42 years old, but still quite attractive outside of the nasty look on her face. She radiated cold, emotionless and just plain bitchy. She hated boys, men in general; I wondered what my father had ever seen in her. Well I knew actually, her big tits, slim waist and perfect hips and legs made her look quite appealing, and I often wondered if she had been a good fuck for my father. No I hated her so much I almost could not even imagine her in a sexual way.