By bobwhite
Autor's note: Not too many stories feature telepaths who are married, unless the marriage is in the story for the humiliation of the telepath's spouse. So, I'm going to do my little part to help remedy this omission in mind control erotica. Besides, marriage isn't all peaches & cream, but it can be mostly fun & games, as you'll find out in the story. If you like it, email me!
"So, what do you want for dinner tonight?" Darren asked his wife, Anne. They were about done at Kwick's Bar and Grill, taking advantage of the bar but not the grill. They did have standards.
"It's your turn to pick," she said. At that, he scanned the room for an appropriate "meal." It was the last Thursday of the month, the day they allowed one or the other to choose a playmate for both to enjoy for the night. Being married telepaths, they figured, meant that you just had to indulge every now and then, but with the other's consent and always as a couple, together—because, despite what some people might think, cheating is cheating. That is especially when you can't hide it from your mate because she's as good at reading minds as you are.
"I choose..." he began, quickly scanning the minds of the more attractive patrons and employees of the bar, "... uh... um... how about... her. Yes, her. Amie." His wife rolled her eyes and looked in the direction his mind was pointing.
He had picked out a pretty brunette with a healthy rack. Quickly confirming her guess with her powers, she knew the bra size was a D. That only made her roll her eyes again, and she turned to her husband.
"Gee, what a surprise. Couldn't find one with bigger tits, huh? What is it with you men and D cups? Like a C is soooo much smaller" she began, holding her chest for dramatic effect.
This time, it was his turn to roll his eyes. He followed that with an audible sigh. "Look, don't start with me. I waited for an hour for you to choose, and then you dump it off on me. If you don't like my pick, just pick one yourself." Picking up on her thoughts, he added, "Just because her chest is big doesn't mean I want her more than I want you. You know that. I don't know why you're being so bitchy about this..."
She cut him off, and raising her voice, retorted, "Don't call me a bitch, asshole. I'm just saying..."
"I didn't call you a bitch! But you are being VERY BITCHY!!" he responded, his anger growing. 'Why did it always have to be a big production?' he wondered to himself.
"What the fuck ever. All we ever do is pick up some big-chested girl, take her home, and fuck her. And, I know I don't have the biggest knockers in the world; you don't have to constantly remind me by picking women like that!" she yelled, pointing at Amie, who seemed oblivious to the attention she was garnering. "Besides, I thought we were going to pick up a man on this trip! It's been a few months since you let me pick a man. Why is it you always get two women, and I never get two men? Afraid his dick will feel better in me than yours?" By now, she was standing. He put his elbow on the bar and grabbed his forehead, his embarrassment growing by leaps and bounds.
She was going to make a scene. 'God damn, here we go. It's like this every fucking time,' he thought.
"You like bit tits? There. There are your big titties. Why don't you go and marry them."
Amie and Sofia were just having drinks after work, talking about work, husbands, the cute guy who fixes the copy machine—you know, the usual stuff. When the commotion at the bar started, they both glanced over but lost interest. It was just another married couple bitching at each other in public. They were both married, so they knew the routine—and that was the primary reason they didn't go out with their husbands to bars very often.
"So, what were ya sayin' before Mr. and Mrs. Jackass over there decided to pitch a fit?" Sofia asked. She was only half-listening; Amie had a much bigger chest than she did and dressed to show it off, much to her chagrin. Even though they weren't there to pick up guys, they did enjoy the attention they got from men—and Sofia, while a pretty blonde with hair a bit longer than Amie's, didn't compare on top. And "A" might beat a "D" in school, but not in the world of men.
'I bet I'm a better lay than she is, but she'll always get more, just because of her tits. I bet I cum harder and louder on my worst day than she ever has... and it doesn't matter because of those tits,' she pined in her mind. 'More's the pity,' Sofia absently thought as she and Amie made small talk while drinking their whiskey sours. Suddenly, the fight got loud, and Amie shook her head a bit, as if some insect were crawling on her hair and she had to shake it off. "Amie? What's wrong, girl?"
"Oh, nothing's wrong. I just gotta play with my titties," she mentioned almost nonchalantly as she stood up, and in one swift motion, took off her tank top. Now her breasts were concealed only by a plain, white bra. But, that didn't last for long—she reached around and unhooked the garment, letting it drop, as soon as her tank was gone. She started to knead her breasts and pinch her nipples. "Mmmmm, that feels nice. I've needed this all day... mmmmmmm..."
Sofia looked with mild envy at her friend as she played with her chest. 'Why should she have so much while I have so little?' she wondered, but let it pass. As she took another drink and started to talk about the new guy in I.T., she idly wondered if Amie would mind if she kissed her nipples. 'Ooooh, you'd better stop, girl; you'll get yourself in trouble again,' she reasoned with herself.
"OK, they're nice, but that's not why I chose her!" Darren yelled. "I think she needs a night out. She's never even eaten pussy," he said, pointing at them, "unlike her blonde friend, there, who at least got to experiment in college. I just wanted you to introduce her to the world of..."
"Don't even fucking say it, asshole. If I hear that "introduction to the beauty of bisexuality" bullshit one more time I swear I'll snap! So, what, it's OK if you have me and another woman, even though I'm more into guys than girls—but it's only once in a blue moon you'll let me bring home another man? What the fuck is that about? Are you afraid you'll accidentally touch a scrotum? For a guy who loves women going at each other, you're sure homopho..."
Now he interrupted her—loudly. "Oh, I get it. Very fucking nice. First, you say you'll choose a target. Then, you make ME choose the target. Then, you call me homophobic because I choose a fucking girl. Well pardon fucking me! You so interested in a man? How about that one over there? I bet he's got a big dick. That's what you want, right? A big dick?"
As he said that, the bouncer—a muscular, tall, black man, approached them. He stood behind Anne and said into her ear, "Here ya go, bitch."
She hated that word more than almost anything else, and was going to do something horrible to the mother fucker had dared to call her a bitch. She turned to look at this soon-to-be sorry man, and her eyes followed his tall form from head to ... belt. His pants were gone. 'Oh my. That is a big dick,' she thought. And then she caught herself—he was distracting her, and changing the subject—like he always did.
"Oh, nice try, asswipe. Like I'm supposed to say 'Sorry, honey, I was wrong, let's take the big-chested bimbo..."
"SHE ISN'T A BIMBO! YOU'RE MAKING HER PLAY WITH HERSELF!!" he screamed.
"Well, sooooory! I mean, 'the big-chested SLUT.'" When she said that, Amie began rubbing her pussy through her dress slacks—hard. Changing her standing position so that her feet were about three feet apart, she now openly messaged her crotch with one hand while the other, freed from its nipple duty, fond its way into her mouth. A moan escaped her lips. When she was satisfied with the show she was creating, she continued the shouting match.
"You just get off on two women going at it, and you can't even admit it! Well, you wanna see a top heavy whore get it on with a small-chested girl tonight? Then leave me out of it. There's your show. Why don't you pull up a seat!"
Sofia was wondering if they should leave—but the thought passed. She wanted to have a few more drinks before she went home and had her husband go down on her. 'I hope he shaved tonight,' she mused, knowing she'd think of Amie while he was busy on her pussy. Watching her friend maul herself up top before moving on to her pussy, started to suddenly realize just how much she wanted to do the mauling.
Not wanting to wait any longer, and taking Amie's actions as an invitation, she got up and put her arms around her friend's lower back. She drew her friend in for a kiss. Amie took her finger out of her mouth to accept the advance, and their tongues met in a frenzy of urgency.
They had to fuck. NOW.
Reaching down, Sofia unbelted and unfastened her co-workers pants. She dug her thumbs into the waistband and drug Amie's pants—with her underwear—to the floor. While Amie was stepping out of her pants and shoes, Sofia quickly got naked, slipping out of her skirt, panties, top, and bra. She laid down on the table of the booth they'd been sitting at and started playing with her smallish breasts.
She thought, 'My tits may be smaller, but I bet my nipples are bigger and... mmmmmm... more responss sssssssiiiiiiiive mmmmmmmm'—she finished the last part out loud as her friend's pouty, full lips engulfed her right nipple. Her focus was regained, though, when she opened her fluttering eyes wide and saw Amie's wet sex quickly descending towards her face and begging for attention.
Amie's pussy had some bush around it—it was trimmed but definitely not clean-shaven. 'Just like a pussy should be,' Sofia thought as her friend's slit found its place on her mouth. Her tongue sneaked out and began to tickle Amie's clit. Using one hand to repeatedly smack Amie's ass (each swat made Amie audibly grunt and was followed by a slow grind into Sofia's face), she reached around her hips with the other, used her finger to trace down her ass crack, and finally plunged two fingers—intertwined—deep into Amie's snatch.
"Unnnnnnnnngghh! Yeah, bitch, suck that clitty.... Mmmmmmmm..." was about the last intelligible thing Amie got out before a particularly hard swat made her yelp out—and cum. Dropping her head, she used her hands to spread open Sofia's pussy and began to lick it like a piece of hot, pink rock candy.
And, it tasted almost as good. She was sucking on Amie's clit while using three fingers to fuck her flat-chested friend, and that combination had Sofia's hips lifting off the table after several minutes—and it also made Sofia work extra hard and fast. After a few more minutes of this increased activity, Amie quickly had another, even stronger orgasm. Coming up for air and screaming in lustful delight, Amie began to use two of the fingers on her non-pussy-fucking hand to rub Sofia's clit up, down, sideways—any way she could, as fast as she could.
Amie had to get Sofia off. She'd cum twice, and Sofia was still en route to her first orgasm. Amie would make her cum, no matter what it took.
Amie's efforts, though, only made Sofia fuck her harder than she had been. A third finger was added to Amie's snatch, and the spanking got harder. But, Amie was determined to make Sofia cum before she had her third climax—it was like a contest now, and she was no loser. Using her fingers to alternate between rubbing and slapping Sofia's clit, she began to time her attack to build a crescendo in Sofia's body with a climax she would not forget.
And, after what seemed like an erotic eternity, Sofia lost all control.
"Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god OH GOD OH GOD OF FUUUUUUCK OH FUCK ME FUUUUUUCK ME ... EEEE... AAAAAAAH....UUUUUUUUUNGH! OH GOD OH FUCK OH YEAH OOOOOOH OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH!" Sofia screamed. She'd probably blown her vocal folds with that screaming rant, and it wouldn't have mattered to her if she had. She'd just cum with more power than she had in years. Her hips had began to shake violently in reaction to Amie's increased attack, and it was clear that she had cum to anyone within earshot.
The orgasm temporarily stopped Sofia's pussy licking efforts, and while she panted and tried to come back to reality, Amie, knowing she'd won some kind of contest, rubbed her friend's pussy with the palm of her hand and smugly smiled as if victorious in a contest she only half-knew she had entered.
Darren hadn't waited for the end of the show, though; he knew this game well. If he let his wife have her way—and he suspected she didn't even want another man tonight, she just wanted to ride his ass—he'd never hear the end of it. So, taking advantage of Anne's concentration on the pair of ladies, he began to increase her arousal—by using Tyrone's body.
When Anne finally knew just how horny she had become, she looked down and was surprised to see a bulge under her flowing skirt—a bulge caused by the head and body of the bouncer! He was under her skirt, eating her for all he was worth. She felt a finger—larger than her husband's—snake up her leg and start fingering her innermost folds. Her knees bent and her legs spread a bit to allow the kneeling man easier access to her pussy—she knew how tough it could be eating out a woman while she was standing. It wasn't until she put her hand on the back of his shaven, dark-skinned head, though, that she realized what her husband was doing. And, that he was winning.
So, now genuinely interested both in the attention she was getting and the side show (Amie had just had her first orgasm and was dropping her head down to taste pussy for the first time in her life), she decided to fire back as quickly as she could. That way, she could continue enjoying everything that was going on. And, she'd be able to get the upper hand—not that she was exactly sure how that could help her, or if she even wanted help. This was the most fun they'd had since the last argument they'd had—but she wasn't about to tell Darren that. Timing her twin mental blasts with her orgasm for an extra burst of power, she waited for Ty to make her cum.
And cum she did. This guy was good with his hands and mouth. The two bolts of power hit Darren and a waitress (named Shelly) squarely in the mind... and genitals.
Shelly dropped her tray and ripped open her blouse. Buttons flew everywhere, and she undid the front clasp that held her B-cup bra in place. Tugging on her nipple hoops (she'd had them pierced the year before), she quickly got to her knees and freed Darren's quickening manhood from the confines of his blue jeans—and her mouth enveloped it as soon as it was exposed.
Darren's eyes would have bulged out of his skull, if they could have. There was a hot little girl with black hair, very fair (almost pale) skin, and nice sized tits (not too big, not too small—perfect, he absently thought) going to town on his cock as if it were the only one on earth. One hand was tugging on her nipple ring, the other was massaging his balls—then his shaft—then, when it was wet and slippery enough, the head of his penis. When her mouth was free, she licked her fingers and, reaching down, slid her panties aside to get at her hairless snatch.
Darren was in heaven, but he very quickly realized what was going on, and finally brought some control to the quickly degrading scene. Putting his hand on Shelly's head to regulate her timing, he said, a bit more softly, "Look, uh, if you just want to go home, we'll just go home. We're getting nowhere here, and I'm... mmm... getting tired of f..f...fighting. Maybe the same day evvvv... mmmmm... every month isn't the best way to have "family time." He was fucking Shelly's face in earnest by that point. But, he wasn't near having an orgasm—he was in control of himself—so he tapped her on the head. It was her signal to stop.
She got up and finished disrobing. Getting back on her hands and knees, she crawled to where Tyrone was on his knees, and positioning herself as best she could, she took his monstrously large, black cock into her mouth.
Shelly was quickly learning to be an expert cocksucker—especially considering the fact that before this night, she'd never gone down on a man before. She thought it was disgusting. Tyrone, though, noticed—and immediately appreciated—her efforts. Reaching between Shelly's legs, he began to alternate between finger-fucking her and stroking her clit. Of course, this took his attention away from Anne, who, without the oral and digital attention from Tyrone, suddenly noticed what was going on.
Rubbing her chest through her blouse, she began to finally relent. "Look, I'm sorry, but it's like every time you want to fuck someone, it's some bitch with bigger titmmmmph. Mmmmmmm." Darren had used her apology as an invitation to kiss her. While his tongue danced in her mouth, he laid her on her back on the surprisingly clean floor of the bar as softly as he could. Then, he hiked her skirt up and moved her thong over to the side of her steaming-hot twat.
Shelly had stopped her oral actions and assumed the doggie position, facing the married couple. Following some unsaid command, she grabbed Anne's hands when they were stretched out behind her head, and pinned them down. Then, she put her head down on the floor as her vagina accepted Tyrone's rod. She was so wet, though, that it went in as smoothly as it could have—and after a few short, slow strokes, he was able to sink his meat into her almost all the way. When he got in as far as he knew he could, he began to pump away with a passion he'd never felt beore.
At the same time, Darren had moved up and, while kissing and necking with his wife, slid his dick into her. They were both so close because of all the action they'd been engaging in that the actual sex part of the adventure lasted only three of four minutes.
Darren shot a load of cum into his wife that was so hot she thought it might burn her. His member remained inside her, throbbing in small, after-orgasmic pulses. He kissed his wife again, and then sat up enough to look into her blue eyes. Looking into each other's eyes, they were simultaneously reminded of the one thing they shared, besides telepathic ability: unconditional love.
Cracking a smile when Sofia started her full-minute, long-delayed orgasm, they realized that, even after 10 years of marriage, they still knew how to have fun. And, it didn't have to involve stealing some man or woman for a night of hanky-panky. Realizing, also, that they had to clean the mess up before someone else came in, they forced an orgasm on Shelly while Tyrone was still fucking her from behind.
When it hit, she bucked her ass around so hard that Tyrone almost slipped out— although his determination to stay in her won that battle. However, after she finally had the biggest orgasm of her life, she lost consciousness and fell forward—putting her flat on the floor. That finally caused Tyrone to slip out of her, and that's when Anne gave Tyrone his release. He came for what seemed like forever, his jizz landing in blobs on Shelly's back. Her skin was so fair that it almost blended in.
'Thankfully,' Darren thought, 'we had the foresight to make sure everybody here thought anything that was happening was normal.' Sending out various commands, the naked people got cleaned up (as well as they could with nothing but napkins and water) and put their clothes back on. Despite the fact that 30 minutes or so of total sexual abandon had just taken place between 6 people, memories were smudged efficiently to think that it was just another night at Kwick's.
After straightening her clothes, Anne came up behind her husband and, wrapping her arms around his toned abs, she hugged him from behind.
"I love makeup sex," she said to him. He laughed, turned around, and hugged her back—backing off only so that he could position himself for a kiss.
Having had their fun for the night, and making sure that nobody else would remember what had gone on—and making sure the actions hadn't affected anyone's personalities; that's how the TEDS got you—they went home, hand in hand. As they drove home and Anne fell asleep, Darren looked at her with the most tenderness he could remember feeling. He wondered how single telepaths could enjoy this level of passion, this level of emotion—this level of pure love—with a non-telepath.
Author's second note: you may have noticed the reference to the TEDS. They're a group of government-employed mind controllers who go around chasing rogue telepaths. They will make more appearances in other stories, I promise. They are mentioned, briefly, in ORF as well. Anyway, thanks for reading!
© 2004, bobwhite, emc.bobwhite@gmail.com. All rights reserved.