The next step with Sharon

People say that the eyes are windows to the soul. That by observing them, one could ascertain the character of another. But eyes are opaque and not always terribly expressive, obfuscating what lies beneath. It is a strange contradiction, to have a window without a way to see through it. But a wary observer could still glimpse clues.

Sharon Thompson’s deep blue eyes are wide, unblinking, accepting. You’ve grown used to seeing them that way. You think you’ve even started to love it. You’ve seen the same look on a few women now, and you daresay it’s one of the most enticing things you’ve ever seen. About on par with seeing them unclothed. You’ll undoubtedly see it more often as time progresses and you meet more MILFs **** to your hypnotic influence. The pure, unbridled acceptance within the eyes of an entranced or otherwise hypnotically influenced woman entices you almost as intensely as the pleasure they could give you with their soft bodies. Perhaps more. Something dark and primal churns behind your eyelids, hidden within the deep recesses of your mind, threatening to bubble to the surface of your soul. It craves control. Control and domination.

Staring into Sharon’s wide, glassy, unblinking eyes which had moments ago exuded authority and intelligence, you know you are seeing something different now. Something deeper than Sharon had ever intended to ever show you. Acceptance. Openness. Compliance. She almost looks like she’s hypnotized right now, even if she isn’t.

The post-hypnotic trigger you’ve given her seems to compel her to experience a similar condition where for an undetermined amount of time, she will accept your choices as her own, no matter what they may be. She’d given you that power while she’d been in a trance, unaware of how you had manipulated her into it. She’d given you the run-around at first, but ultimately it had been easy to sway her. It seems strange that a psychologist with a keen insight into the human soul can not see what is right in front of her. Then again, it is not as if the two of you are operating on a level playing field.

Yes, she may have her knowledge, education, and experience, but you have a backdoor to her mind. A door that opens at least once a day, and for a brief few minutes, allows you to see through that window into her soul. Against that, all of her intelligence and confidence means nothing. It’s like that swordsman in the first Indiana Jones movie; all his flashy moves and skills and Indiana lazily drew his gun and ended the man’s life right there.

You shake your head, dismissing the line of thought. It’s time to tell her about the choice she needs to make now.

“You’ll decide you were wrong to say no when I asked you to have sex with me. You’re realized that there’s nothing wrong with it, whatsoever. In fact, it’s great. It’ll help with my recovery more than anything you’ve tried so far and it’ll feel amazing. You’ve decided you’re looking forward to it with rapt anticipation. So, whenever we’re alone and I ask you to have sex with me, you’ll agree without hesitation. Now, I’m going to sit down on the toilet with my pants down. When you’re ready, take off your pants and underwear and come and put my cock in your pussy. You’re my girlfriend, Sharon, even if you can’t tell anyone about it. You’ve decided it’s about time you acted like it.”

Sharon stares ahead blankly as you finish making her choices for her. Her mouth droops open slightly. What’s going on in her head, you wonder? What exactly determines the time limit between the choice you’ve made for her and her carrying it out? It’s moments like these you wish you understand more about the fundamentals of hypnosis and post-hypnotic suggestions. Maybe there are some books you can read on the subject, or perhaps you can just ask Sharon herself? She’s a therapist and while you’ve no idea if hypnosis is one of her specialties, it definitely wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it? You’ll just have to make sure there’s no way she’ll ever relate your questions to what you’ve done to her and the other women in your life. And then she’ll be… what? Your partner in crime? Your assistant? You have to admit, the idea of someone having your back sounds really appealing right now. You’re in uncharted waters and it’s not ridiculous to think that even a small slip-up could lead to people discovering something you’d rather they didn’t. If anyone can help you prevent that eventuality, it’s Sharon.

Nodding to yourself, you pull down your pants. Your hard, throbbing cock springs free. It’s still slightly wet from Tiffany’s saliva, and the relatively cool air of the bathroom gives you a slight chill. You back up and sit down on the toilet. Thankfully, it’s far enough from the side wall that Sharon should be able to wrap her thick thighs around you with no issue.

After you sit down, you stare at Sharon. The curvaceous dark-haired MILF continues staring off into space. You start counting the seconds as you look at her up and down. One. No movement. Two. Her eyes are still blank. Three. She blinks. Four. Light returns to her gaze. Five. She blinks again and turns her head slightly. Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. She lets out a soft, satisfied sigh. A small smile plays at her plush blowjob lips. She looks blissful, happy. Eleven, twelve, thirteen. She looks at you. Her brilliant sapphire eyes which had either gazed at you with pity or authority, now do so with open lust. And something else, as well. Her cheeks flush slightly as she stares between your legs, at your cock which is still throbbing and twitching, waiting for Sharon to attend to it.

“Um. Hey,” Sharon says softly. She swallows. “So, are you sure you want to do this here? What if Tiffany finds us or your mother comes back early? Wouldn’t it be better if we could do this someplace more… private?”

You smile at her nervousness. It’s rather endearing, actually. Sharon’s always been this sophisticated, intelligent, beautiful older woman who was galaxies out of your league, but here she is stumbling over her words like a high school girl trying to convince her boyfriend to move to a safer, more private environment.

She glances back at the door, even as her fingers hook themselves in the waistband of her pants and pull them downward. Her panties get dragged along for the ride, too, and for the first time today you have a good look at Sharon’s pussy. It seems wet, covered by a sheen of moisture. Hm. It seems making her decisions for her hasn’t gotten rid of all her misgivings, but she’s still willing to go through with it anyway.

You beckon her closer with your fingers.

She obeys silently, shuffling towards you with her pants wrapped around her ankles.

Her cheeks are burning bright red and she seems incredibly self-conscious about you staring at her.

“You mean like Jared’s bedroom? So it wasn’t enough that I ate you out there and stained his sheets with your juices, you want me to fuck you there, too?”

She shoots you a glare, but it subsides after a few moments. She shakes her head.

“Perhaps,” she says quietly, but her eyes seem to brim with lust. “But I was thinking we could at least go back to my house where we can do whatever we want, privately. There’s no reason we should be risking someone walking in on us and ruining what we have. It doesn’t make any sense.”

You reach out and grasp her hips with your hands and begin massaging her soft skin.

She sighs and closes her eyes for a few moments.

“Hey.”

You pull her towards you gently. Despite her earlier objection, she doesn’t resist, allowing you to maneuver her so that she’s standing over you with legs to the sides of her toilet. Her pussy is positioned almost directly above your cock now, and her large clothed breasts nearly obscure her face at that angle. Perhaps conscious of this or maybe she’s just following your direction, she lowers herself downward. She stops when her pussy brushes against your cock.

She lets out a low grunt, and wraps her right hand around your cock and places the head against her mons. Her pussy is wet and scalding, much as it had been when you’d eaten her out last night.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, shutting her eyes for a few moments before staring into yours. The sexual tension between the two of you is so palpable you could cut it with a knife.

“Sharon.”

“Yes?” she whispers.

“I know you’re worried about what we’re doing. You don’t want to lose your career or jeopardize my recovery. We’ve only just decided to be boyfriend and girlfriend, and even then it’s only for therapeutic purposes, but this feels… real to me. More than any relationship I’ve ever had so far. You’re just so kind and smart and amazing. I don’t care if you’re an accredited therapist or not. If people find out about us and you lose your practice, I’ll still want you to be here helping me. If other people find us like this, let them think what they want. Who are they to judge us? What we have? You’ve already helped me so much. I can’t imagine anyone else stepping into your shoes, no matter what happens between us.”

Sharon’s eyes widen. They grow wet, slightly. Her lips curve upwards and her cheeks flush a shade of red brighter than before.

“You’re such a sweet young man,” Sharon says. “Knowing what my son did to you, it’s amazing you still find it within you to try to reassure me. Sometimes I find myself wondering why you’ve chosen me to carry out your treatment. You should hate me for not being there for you and there are so many better, more knowledgeable practitioners out there and-”

“Shhh,” you interrupt her mid-sentence, pressing a finger against her lips. “Sharon, please listen because I’m only going to say this once. I. Don’t. Care. You’re the one I want to help me. I don’t want anyone else. Do you understand?”

She opens her mouth to respond, but apparently thinks better of it. After a few seconds, she gives you a nod.

“Okay, I get it,” she gives you a wry grin. “Hm. You seem to know exactly what you want. A lot of women like that in a man.”

You give her a wry smirk and move your hands to rest them on her plump asscheeks.

“Does that include you?”

She shifts your cock, rubbing the head back and forth against the entrance of her pussy

You grunt. She’s so hot and wet. You just want her to stop messing around and shove it inside already.

“It certainly does. But that’s not the only thing about you I find interesting,” she tightens her grip around your cock for emphasis.

“Oh? Am I bigger than your ex-husband?” you can’t resist prodding her.

“John!” she slaps you on the shoulder, but she puts virtually no **** into it so it comes across as more of a pat. You can’t help but chuckle. She “slaps” you again. “It’s not funny! You shouldn’t say things like that! It’s totally inappropriate!”

You roll your eyes. Here Sharon is rubbing your cock up against her pussy in the bathroom only a couple doors away from where your sister is, and she’s worried about impropriety?

“Oh, relax. You can tell me. I promise it’ll stay between us. Um, and it’ll help with my recovery.”

She stares at you for a long moment. You know that look. You’d gotten it before from your mom, your aunt, and virtually every female teacher you’ve ever had. She’s trying to study your face for any sign of dishonesty. Honestly, you think she should just go all out and do the Larry David thing where he narrows his eyes and peers into your soul.

“Hm. Fine, if it’ll make you feel better…” she sighs. Then she shakes her head, chuckling. “Yes, you’re bigger than Doug. God, that’s so bad! I can’t believe I just admitted that.”

You laugh at her and she rewards you another playful slap.

“You know, I need to start watching myself. When I’m around you I tend to end up doing things I never would have imagined. I might be your therapist, but sometimes I can’t shake the idea that you’re the one influencing my behavior and not the other way around.”

It takes virtually all of your self-control to hide your nervousness from your face. Her words have struck far too close for comfort. You figure ignoring or deflecting her comment will only make her suspicious, even if it’s some notion she only entertains fleetingly, so you decide to play into it.

“Oh yeah? It doesn’t seem like you think it’s a bad thing, though.”

“It’s not!” she says quickly, with raised eyebrows. Her eyes are wide. She hisses when your throbbing manhood brushes against her clit. “At least not usually. It’s just… strange. This is all really new to me. I mean, a day after we reconnected at the mall and you’ve got me ready to have sex with you two doors away from your sister and with your mom due to come back soon. I, um, I’ve never felt this way with a man before, but…”

You start squeezing her asscheeks. She moans softly, but doesn’t continue her last sentence.

“But what?”

She licks her lips nervously. Her eyes glimmer with naked lust. Your heart thuds heavily in your chest as she stares at you. You feel like something unspoken is being said between the two of you. Something you don’t quite understand, but it feels right.

“I think I actually like it."

You blink. Wow. That’s definitely not something you’d have ever expected her to say on her own.

Her eyes widen after she says it, like she’s just heard your thought and agrees with it. She doesn’t take her words back, though.

Instead, abruptly, she tightens her hand around your cock. She begins moving it, pushing it against her pussy. She lowers herself then, grunting as your cockhead pops into her achingly tight, cozy warmth.

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