You're not really interested in the movie

“I can save your seats for you,” you say, mind made up. Worst thing that happens is they say no, in which case you haven’t really lost anything, have you? “Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear.”

The teenager, Steve, gives you a weird look. His brown eyes narrow suspiciously.

“Yo, why’d you help us just like that?”

“Steve, calm down,” the father puts a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sure the guy just wants to help.”

Steve snorts and crosses his arms.

“Whatever,” he says.

The father gives you a searching look, and you decide to try to justify your offer to help.

“My mom, she goes into trances in public a lot, too,” you channel as much sincerity as you can into your voice and look the man in the eye. You see Steve and his brother stare at you through your peripheral vision. “It was pretty strange to deal with as a kid. The two of us would just be at the park or movie theaters like this one and then she’d switch off like a kitchen appliance and then I had to make sure nothing happened to her. Ever since then I’ve always tried to do my best to help people in similar situations, you know?”

The father nods.

“That sounds like it must have been hard for you. I’m Frank, by the way,” he stands and holds his hand out for you to shake. “And these boys are my sons Steve and Joseph,” he gestures to the boys and then to the dark-skinned MILF sitting right in front of you. She’s attractive, with medium-length black hair that cascades down her shoulders and only barely down her arms. Her skin is smooth, pristine, with no sign of acne scars or overabundance of makeup. Her lips are plump, and you can’t help but wonder how they would feel wrapped around your hard shaft. “That’s my wife, Marissa. If she were awake right now, she’d definitely want to shake your hand. Not too many people would be comfortable offering to look out for us while she’s like this.”

You nod at him and take his hand in your own.

“I’m John, and it’s really no big deal. What’s five or so minutes of my time in the grand scheme of things?” he grips your hand firmly, and you do your best to look him in the eye and seem completely honest.

“Good point, but still I appreciate it,” Frank smiles at you, big dimples forming across his face. A strange feeling churns in your chest. Is this what it’s like to introduce yourself to someone and have them actually like you? “So you’re willing to just sit here with Marissa for a few minutes and save our seats for us, huh?”

You nod. Is he actually going to just leave his hypnotized wife alone with you? Is he really not worried at all that you’ll do anything nefarious to her? Again, you’re reminded of a unique quirk of the world Charles had helped create for you; that people would have a natural impulse not to take advantage of women who fell into their daily trance. Maybe he was incapable of considering that you might have less than noble intentions towards his wife.

“Pretty much.”

The man chuckles.

“That’s very considerate. My boys could learn a lot from you,” he stares down at his sons. Joseph, the quiet one, does what he can to look smaller under his gaze while Steve just glares back at him. “Well, come on. John’ll save our seats while we get some food and drinks. And if I know you right, both of you will want to go to the bathroom real quick before the movie starts.”

Steve and his brother sigh before standing along with their father. They follow him out into the walkway.

“See you in a few minutes,” Frank says, “And thanks.”

With one final nod to the man, you watch as he turns to leave. His teenage sons follow suit, walking down the steps of the theater before disappearing into the exit hallway.

You allow yourself a smirk as you turn to face Marissa. The voluptuous African-American MILF is still deep in her trance.

“No time to waste,” you mutter, entering the row and sitting next to her. Your legs brush against hers and she doesn’t react. She’s somewhat taller than you in the seat, but that just means your eyes are closer to her huge mammaries. You stare into her deep, dark, cleavage. It would be a crime for Frank to keep those huge tits all to himself.

“Hello, Marissa,” you address the woman for the first time. “Your name’s Marissa, right?”

She nods obediently.

“Nice to meet you, Marissa. I’m John. Are you aware that you’re under a trance right now?”

“Yes,” she says.

“How does being in a trance make you feel?”

“It’s fine.”

“You don’t mind it that much?”

“Not really,” she says simply.

“Why don’t you mind being in a trance?”

“There’s nothing I can do about it, so there’s no point worrying about it.”

She sounds more resigned than anything else.

“That’s a good attitude to have. Are you wondering how I’m talking to you while you’re in a trance?”

She nods.

“Were you listening to the conversation that I had with your family?”

“I tried to, but I could only hear your voice. Why was it only your voice I could hear?”

“You’ve never heard anyone else’s voice while you were in a trance before?”

“Never.”

“Hm,” you bring a hand to your chin. You’d known that you were the only person who could influence mothers in their daily trances, but you had no idea that they couldn’t hear other people’s voices, either. You wonder why that is. Is it because if they could hear other people speak, there’s a chance they might respond? Strange.

“When you come out of your trance, you won’t remember that you’re capable of having conversations with me while you’re hypnotized, but you’ll always have a compulsion to be around me when you’re under. When you fall into a trance and you’re not close enough to walk to me, you’re going to make sure you’re alone and then call me. Do you understand?”

She nods. You give her your phone number and have her recite it a few times from memory until you’re certain that she’s utterly incapable of forgetting it.

“Oh, and you won’t ever tell anyone about me or give anyone my phone number without my permission.”

“Okay.”

“If someone happens to discover you in a trance while you’re on the phone with me, you’ll pretend that you aren’t in a trance until the person leaves or you wake up. When you wake up under that circumstance, you’ll remember that you and I had a pleasant phone conversation and it’ll be the highlight of your day. Do you understand?”

“I understand.”

Gently, you place your hand on her thigh. The material of her yoga pants is thin, and you can feel her pliable flesh lingering beneath.

“Do you feel my hand, Marissa?”

She nods again.

“How does me touching you make you feel?”

“I don’t like it,” she answers.

“Yes, you do,” you correct her. “You really like the feeling of my hand on your thigh, and you know you’ll like it no matter where I happen to touch you. No, you love it. You love it when I touch your body, Marissa.”

“I… I love it,” she whispers.

You give her thigh a squeeze.

“How does my hand on your leg make you feel?” you ask.

“Wonderful, I love it,” her lips twitch upwards.

You smile. It’s amazing how easily women are manipulated when they’re in their trances.

“You enjoy the feeling of me touching you, Marissa. It’s almost like a ****. The more I touch you, the better you feel, and the more you want me to touch you. Isn’t that right?”

“Mhm,” she nods.

You give her thigh another squeeze before moving your hand up towards her waist.

“Look at me, Marissa.”

She turns to face you. Her brown eyes are still delightfully blank.

“If you love the fact that I’m touching you, you must love other things about me. You love the way I look, Marissa.”

“I… love the way you look,” she whispers.

“I’m so handsome, far more handsome than any man you’d ever met.”

“Handsome…”

“You can’t imagine a man being better looking than I am,” you say.

“Can’t imagine a better-looking guy…” she licks lips. Her still-blank eyes shimmer slightly with desire.

“Since I’m so good-looking, all the other men in the world are ugly by comparison, aren’t they?”

“They’re ugly,” Marissa nods her head easily. You don’t think she’s contradicted you so far or given you token displays of resistance like Sharon and the others had.

“Your husband’s ugly, isn’t he?”

Marissa nods. “Frank’s ugly.”

“You love your husband, but you can’t recall ever being attracted to him. It’s a frustrating feeling that’s been bothering you ever since you married him, but now that you’ve met me, you know that I was the man you've been searching for all along. The perfect man, the answer to all your hopes and prayers.”

You inch your hand upward and pull up the waistband of her pants so you can slip your hand down beneath her panties. Your fingers soon come in contact with her lightly cut pubic mound and then her pussy proper. It’s slightly damp, and when you find her warm clit and begin rubbing Marissa hisses.

“I’m the perfect man. I’m the greatest man you could ever hope to meet. Repeat those words and feel them cement themselves deep into the very essence of your being, until you can’t even imagine meeting a man who is remotely as amazing and attractive as I am.”

“You’re the perfect man. You’re the greatest man I could ever hope to meet. You’re the perfect man. You’re the greatest man I could ever hope to meet. You’re the perfect man. You’re the greatest man I could ever hope to meet. You’re the perfect man. You’re the greatest man I could ever hope to meet.”

She stops, sighing. A small smile spreads across her face. Her eyes are still blank, but you can tell your time is beginning to run out.

“You want to attract my attention, but since I’m such a good-looking guy a lot of women are going to fight for my attention. That’s totally natural, isn’t it?

Her brow furrows, but she nods.

“You’ll have to compete with them for my attention, but you can never do that violently or with insults. I find violent women utterly repulsive unless they’re acting in self-defense, defending me, or attacking someone on my orders. Which reminds me, I should probably tell you what attracts me most about women, shouldn’t I?”

“Please, tell me,” she intones eagerly.

“You’ll have to do your best to embody the qualities I find attractive in a woman to even have the slimmest hope of attracting my attention. It’ll be hard. You’ll have to prioritize those qualities far beyond anything else in your life. Are you sure you still want to know?”

“Yes!” again, she responds eagerly, and more loudly this time. You stop for a moment to look around and make sure no one is watching or listening to you. Thankfully, Marissa and her family had picked seats on the side of the theater and the middle rows haven’t completely filled out yet. People are starting to fill out the side rows, but the people nearest to you are on the other side of Marissa in the middle row, and Marissa’s body effectively obscures you from sight from that angle. It doesn’t appear that anyone is even looking in your general direction.

You take your hand out of Marissa’s pants. Wiping her cunt juices on her pants, you give her thigh a possessive pat before hammering in some of the last words you’ll say to Marissa during this trance.

“I like obedient, loyal women, Marissa,” you pat her thigh again, delighting in the way it jiggles with the impact. “Women who know their place and do what they’re told, but not just for anyone. For a woman to catch my interest, she has to be totally loyal and obedient to me. She has to be willing to do whatever I say without question and put my needs and wants above her own. If you can’t drop everything at a moment’s notice when I call for you to do something, then there’s no way I would ever be interested in you.”

She stares at you for a few seconds before swallowing. Licking her plump lips with that incredibly wet tongue of hers, she opens her mouth to speak.

“I can be obedient,” she whispers.

“Totally obedient and loyal,” you prompt her.

“Totally obedient and loyal,” her words mirror yours dutifully. There’s a certitude to her words that wasn’t there before, and before you can press her more, she blinks. The fog in her eyes clears and she looks at you consciously for the first time. Her perfect blowjob lips twist into a wide smile. You can’t help but smile back, even as you curse yourself for being so long-winded in the end.

“Oh, h-hello there,” she stammers, dark skin tinted red like a schoolgirl blushing. Her eyes flicker over your body, seemingly drinking in the very sight of you. The hot older woman blushes again, smiling at you. You’ve seen that smile before, on the faces of the girls back in high school when they mooned over the likes of Chris Hemsworth or Leonardo DiCaprio. Famous, wealthy, incredibly successful men who had earned the adoration of women worldwide. Being aware of that, it seems utterly bizarre that a woman would be looking at you that way, but the new world you found yourself in wasn’t entirely like the one you were used to. Here, you could effectively become the most powerful, popular man in the world, if only in the ideas of a mother who happened to fall into a trance in front of you.

“Hey, I’m John. You’re Marissa, right?” the way her eyes widen disbelievingly amuses you.

“Yeah. How did you know my name?” her smile widens, showing perfectly white teeth.

You smile back at her.

“As I was walking up to my seet, I couldn’t help but notice that you’d fallen into a trance. Normally, that wouldn’t really matter that much to me, but Frank and your sons wanted to get food and maybe take a pre-movie bathroom break. One of your sons - Steve - happened to say he was worried that since you were in a trance, then you wouldn’t be able to save their seats. So, I offered to save their seats for them while you were out.”

“Wow, that’s incredibly nice of you. I don’t know how to thank you,” she taps your knee with her hand, but withdraws it quickly.

“It’s no big deal. I just did what anyone else would have done.”

“Tch. Yeah, right,” she shakes her head. “Most people would have just left me sitting here by myself. It makes me feel safe knowing there’s at least one good man out there who’ll help me out when I need it,” she puts her hand on your knee again, but keeps it there. She leans toward you slightly, exposing her absolutely gargantuan cleavage. Her dark breasts are almost pouring out of the top of her blouse, and they’re mere inches from your face!

You stare at them for a long moment, and you only barely resist gaping.

“See something you like?” the older woman asks teasingly, placing her finger along the neck of her blouse, hooking under it and dragging it downward slightly, showing more of her flawless dark skin.

You gulp. Despite the power you hold over her, she manages to catch you flustered. How the hell did that happen?

“John?” Sharon’s voice cuts your conversation short. You glance to the left and see Sharon looking at the two of you curiously. She’s holding a large, perspiring cup of soda and a paper bowl filled past the brim with lightly buttered popcorn.

Marissa pushes away from you and sits back in her seat, huge breasts wobbling heavily with the movement. She levels a low glare at Sharon that doesn’t go unnoticed by the therapist. Quickly, you move to distract her.

“Oh hey, Sharon. Thanks for getting the popcorn,” you say.

She nods slowly, glancing between you and Marissa.

“No problem. Who’s this? One of your friends’ mothers?”

Marissa’s glare intensifies at the implicit dig at her age. She doesn’t respond, however, glancing at you quickly as if asking permission for something.

You shake your head and she settles back in her seat.

“This is Marissa. She fell into a trance earlier, so I offered to save her family’s seats while they went out to get food and go to the bathroom. She came out of her trance pretty soon after her family left, but she hasn’t stopped acting like I’ve moved heaven and earth somehow.”

Sharon giggles.

“Is that so?”

Marissa snorts.

“John doesn’t understand how rare it is for someone to actually stop and help mothers with their trances. Can you believe that?”

“Somehow I’m not surprised. I went under yesterday at the mall and found him sitting next to me looking after my shopping bag. He didn’t even comment on it,” Sharon smirks at you.

Marissa smiles at Sharon easily now.

“He seems like a really nice young man. You did a really good job raising him,” she says.

Sharon’s pretty blue eyes widen comically.

“Oh, um. He’s not my son,” she says.

Marissa raises her eyebrows.

“Uh-huh. So is he your boyfriend?” her brown eyes flick to you, studying your reaction.

Sharon’s eyes meet yours. She blushes slightly, and you’re reminded of last night, when that prim and proper visage of hers was contorted in raw, unadulterated pleasure as you ate her out.

“N-no. He’s actually a childhood friend of my son.”

Marissa glances behind Sharon.

“So where is he?”

Sharon blinks.

“Who?”

“Your son,” Marissa says.

“He couldn’t make it. I thought about going home, but then I figured I still owed John for yesterday.” She shakes the drink and popcorn. “My treat.”

Marissa nods understandingly.

“Huh. Hey John, if you ever want to go to the movies, or do anything really, let me know. I still want to thank you for helping me out.”

You smile at her.

“Won’t your husband have an issue with that?” Sharon asks, a searching look on her face.

Marissa crosses her arms under her breasts, pushing them upward.

“I don’t see why he would, considering John was so helpful to me. God, I can’t wait to just sing his praises when my husband comes back. I wouldn’t be shocked if he invites John over for dinner,” she says. Her thick thigh brushes against your leg. “Far as I’m concerned, John’s welcome over anytime he wants.”

Sharon nods slowly, as if not really understanding her, but not wanting to be impolite.

“If you say so,” she turns to face you. “Hey John, the movie’s starting soon. We should probably find someplace to sit before the whole theater fills up, you know?”

“You’re probably right,” you say, and move to stand. Marissa gets a hurt look on her face. Her entire posture becomes like a schoolgirl upset that the boy she has a crush on is leaving her cafeteria table early and with another girl. You decide to smooth things over a bit.

“It was nice meeting you, Marissa. I’ll definitely come by after the movie’s over so we can exchange numbers. You and your family seem really nice. If you guys ever want to hang out or anything, I’m just a phone call away,” you smile at her genially.

The voluptuous ebony MILF beams at you.

“Looking forward to it. Enjoy the movie,” she says.

You brush against her legs as you move out of the row. She spreads them slightly, drawing your eyes to her crotch. The material there is darker than the rest, apparently damp with her arousal. Fuck.

Marissa’s eyes follow you as you lead Sharon up the aisle to the isolated corner of the theater you’d discovered earlier. You slide into the row, taking the seat closest to the wall.

Sharon stops and glances down at you doubtfully.

“These seats aren’t exactly amazing. Don’t you want one with a better view?”

You leer at her openly, taking time to stare at her breasts which are barely concealed in her tight blouse. If Sharon’s bothered at all by your ogling, she doesn’t show it.

“I’m liking the view just fine. Now why don’t you have a seat?” you gesture to the seat next to you.

Sharon obeys, setting the soda cup in the cupholder between you and resting the bowl of popcorn on her lap. She reaches down into the bowl and plucks a white, puffy piece of popcorn and plops it into her mouth.

“Popcorn’s not bad,” she says. “Here, have a piece.”

She grabs another piece of popcorn and colds it out for you to take.

Smiling, you lean down and take it from her hand with your mouth, effectively having her feed you. She’s right. The popcorn is pretty good. A little on the salty side, but that never bothered you too much.

A flicker of movement draws your gaze forward as you continue to chew. It looks like Frank and his sons have found their way back to Marissa. Frank’s carrying two bowls of popcorn while his sons have two soda cups each.

Marissa doesn’t look entirely happy to see them, however, and as she ushers them into their seats and takes a cup for herself, her eyes find you in the back of the theater. They glisten with naked lust, desire, and anticipation. A moment later, she sits back down, her family none the wiser that the woman they know and love has forever changed.

The theater lights dim and an immediate hush comes over the audience. You glance around. It looks like you picked your seats well. The nearest individuals to you and Sharon are at least three rows away, and in the darkness it should be difficult for anyone in the top middle row to see anything but a pair of silhouettes.

“I’m gonna be honest, Sharon. I’m not really all that interested in the movie.”

“No?” She seems a bit taken aback. “Do you want to leave?”

“Nope.”

She gives you a meaningful look.

“So what do you want?” she asks.

Instead of answering, you grab the bowl of popcorn, ignoring Sharon as she grumbles in protest. You settle the bowl on your lap and begin eating.

Sharon, sophisticated and intelligent Sharon Thompson, pouts at you. She crosses her arms beneath her breasts, drawing your gaze to them. She smirks.

“Are you sure the popcorn’s all you want?” she whispers.

You chuckle.

“Of course not. If I could have anything I wanted, I’d have you spreading your legs in your bed as I fucked you again and again. But you said no to sex, and I’ll respect that. That doesn’t mean I have to like it, nor does it mean we can’t do things that are almost as good.”

It’s testament to how much influence you have over her already that she doesn’t even bat an eyelid when you talk about sex. Instead, she leans toward you, intelligent eyes gazing into yours.

“Then I’ll ask you again: what do you want? We can do anything you want if it helps your recovery and it’s not that,” she clenches her thighs together, and you wonder if she’s picturing just that.

You nod and place the bowl of popcorn on the floor in front of you.

“Well, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have a blowjob at the movies. I think getting that experience would go a long way towards my recovery, especially if you were the one providing it to me.”

She nods.

“Yes, of course.”

Sharon glances around and nods again.

“I think you picked pretty good seats, John. Probably the best in the house. I doubt anyone will see us. We just have to be quiet. Can you do that?”

Without waiting for an answer, she reaches for your groin, quickly undoing your fly. Her deft fingers encircle your shaft and drag it out into the open. The cool theater air kisses the skin of your cock. Then Sharon leans down and gives your cockhead a much warmer and more pleasant kiss.

Her tongue emerges from her lips and licks your cockslit. She lingers there for a while, content to tease you slowly by kissing your cockhead and licking you with just the tip of her tongue.

The pre-movie trailers soon come to an end, followed by the logos of the production companies that had worked on the film.

Sharon takes this as her cue to lower her lips further, taking an inch or so of your cock into her warm, wet mouth. Her tongue is practically bathing your cockhead now.

You reach down her blouse and grab a handful of her left tit. She moans and lowers her mouth further, taking half of your shaft in now. You feel yourself reach the back of her throat. She gags slightly, but presses on, emitting low squelching noises as she takes you into her tight throat.

A loud noise accompanied by a musical tune draws your eyes to the movie screen. It seems the movie proper has begun.

Sharon lifts herself off your cock, gasping for breath for a few moments before licking and kissing down your shaft. This continues for a few minutes before she brings her lips to your cockhead again. Planting another long kiss on your cockhead, she opens her mouth and takes you inside. You have to cover your mouth to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

She lowers herself again, pushing past the entry to her throat without hesitation, gagging even as she shoves herself further than she ever has before. Within seconds, her nose and lips brush against your open fly and your pubic mound.

She stays down there for almost a minute before taking herself off your cock with an audible “plop.” You notice that her eyes are very wet and tears have started streaming down her cheeks. She doesn’t seem bothered, however. She notices you looking and smiles, seemingly uncaring of the fact that a string of your pubic hair is trapped between two of her teeth.

“You’re the best therapist of all time,” you whisper.

Her smile widens.

“You haven’t seen anything, yet,” she says in challenge, and within moments she’s giving you a passionate blowjob again, fucking her mouth and throat with your cock. You push her bra out of the way and start groping her bare breast in earnest, earning a pleased moan from the back of your throat. The vibration sends pleasant sensations through your cock.

Your balls clench.

“Sharon, I’m gonna cum,” you warn her quietly.

She pops off your cock and takes it into her hands, jerking you as you orgasm.

“That’s right, John. Cum. Cum as much as you want. I’ll always be here to take care of it and make you feel better,” the mother of your hated bully says, and within moments spurts of cum start shooting out of your cock. The first load slams into the back of the seat in front of, dribbling down onto the floor.

Sharon aims your cock downward. The next few spurts are launched towards the floor.

“Yes, that’s it. Beautiful,” she coos, giving your cock one last kiss before settling back into her seat. “Feel better?”

“Much,” you say. You reach down to grab the bowl of popcorn. Something immediately catches your eyes. “Uh, I think we might have a problem.”

“What?” Sharon follows your gaze to the popcorn bowl.

You chuckle. It seems Sharon had inadvertently helped you add a new topping to your moviegoing snack. The top layer of the popcorn is practically smeared with your creamy white cum.

“Shit, I guess the popcorn is ruined,” you say.

Sharon raises an eyebrow.

“For you, maybe.”

She reaches into the popcorn bowl and grabs what looks to be the most cum-drenched piece of popcorn of the lot. She raises it to her face, giving an experimental sniff. After a shrug, she eats it.

You stare at Sharon wide-eyed as she chews the cum-covered piece of popcorn. She hums contentedly, rolling the chewed remains of the popcorn and baby batter in her mouth before swallowing loudly. You follow the bulge in her throat as it travels downward.

“I think that actually improved it a bit. Let me try another one,” she says before grabbing another cum-smeared piece and putting it in her mouth. She keeps her mouth open this time, allowing you to see your cum flow over every inch of her mouth. She closes her mouth and swallows again, opening her mouth to show you that it’s all gone.

“Wow. I had no idea you liked the taste of… of cum,” you say.

She simply smiles at you.

“Normally I don’t, but yours is special. Or maybe it’s just the interaction with the taste of popcorn. Who knows.”

Sharon grabs the bowl of popcorn without asking and places it on her lap. Then she digs in, eating piece after cum-covered piece of popcorn while the rest of the moviegoers are none the wiser.

Your manhood twitches back to full hardness.

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