Sexual Immersion Therapy
Chapter Twenty-Five
I was wide awake for my next ejaculation, and it was much better aimed, right onto Mira Cassidy’s tongue. This was Friday night on her way home from a dance company meeting, where we only had twenty minutes to essentially rape one another in my living room.
The meeting of our bodies was almost violent—Mira didn’t so much leap into my arms as catapult herself onto me. She had attacked me in a similar way before and I caught her, then turned us together so her back was pressed against a wall. We both froze for a second when we heard a cracking sound—I was pressing her into the wall so forcefully that the drywall buckled a tiny bit from the pressure. We both laughed, and then got serious again and did the rest of our fucking on the rug in front of my sofa.
Perhaps it should have alarmed me that when I watched Mira greedily swallowing my cum, thoughts flashed about Terri Thorngood, and how I could give her a similar level of flavor-bliss whenever she swallowed my semen.
Mira cleaned herself up in the downstairs bathroom before rushing off to spend the rest of the night with Taylor. I felt great, delivered—other than my one dream-induced ejaculation, I’d been saving myself for just such an attack, and it felt great as fuck to have my balls Mira-drained.
I celebrated by taking my notebook out of the safe and jotting down some new ideas about where and how far I could steer Terri down the rabbit hole of her superhero fetish. The wonderful ache of my cock and the little bit of visible damage to my living room wall had me feeling like I’d just engaged in my own form of superhero sex.
I reviewed what I’d already instilled inside of Terri, and vaguely ed that the plot of the famous vintage porn movie Deep Throat was about a woman who literally had an anatomical clitoris in her throat, absurd as that was. I thought I could make a woman feel a symbiotic connection between her throat and her clitoris—I’d succeeded with almost the same thing when causing Rosita Bello to come insanely hard when she tasted my cum.
Rosita. I had more or less banished her from my life because we’d had sex in my office, and that struck me now as an absurdity. Hypnotically enforcing her absence from me had been motivated by the fear that I would be unable to resist more immersion hijinks with her, but wasn’t that exactly what I wanted now? I behaving almost as badly now with Terri—I hadn’t engaged in any outright sexual behavior with Terri, yet, but I was pretty sure I would.
After she was no longer my client—that was the key thing. Which—duh—I could just designate Rosita as an ex-client now, too.
I had already fucked Mira tonight—I should probably be satisfied, not horny again to the point of brainstorming ways to fuck additional women. But it made sense, kind of. Mira was for guerilla-fucking, not further hypnotizing. I hadn’t yet heard back about the volleyball hottie from the past, Susan Tinley, and that left no one at this very moment but Rosita, as a candidate for immediate immersion mischief.
Was it possible? I took note of the time—it was a little after ten p.m. Rosita worked Friday nights, unless her schedule had changed, and I was pretty sure her shifts went on until something like two in the morning. I didn’t have to get up early tomorrow; I could do anything tonight that I wanted. I had Rosita’s cell number, and I could try calling or texting.
I pictured Rosita’s immense breasts in my mind, and immediately hardened. I’d done so little with her compared to Mira and especially Dee. How much would boobs that huge wobble and quake with me buried inside her, pumping furiously?
Not giving myself a chance to even think of any potential downsides, I sent a trial text: Been thinking about you. Hope you’ve been doing well.
After sending that text, I had the thought that the language was too remote. I typed again, saying. Wondering if we could meet up sometime soon.
There. Rosita could interpret the second message however she…
My phone sounded, signaling that she had already responded. As doctor and client?
Right to the heart of it in four words, good girl. With my heart beating and dick stiffening, I typed again. I think of you now as a former client. Entirely different relationship with entirely different possibilities.
The ex-client thing would come as news to her, and it ought to have a fairly huge emotional effect. I had told her when hypnotized that we could never have sex again as long as she was my client, so to say now that she was a former client was like opening every door to what we could become.
My phone sounded again. When and where?
She had absorbed the import of the shift, and my thumbs typed, As soon as possible. My heart was really beating fast, anticipating her next response.
It came about a minute later. At work, but can get away in 1.5 hrs. Say where and I’ll be there.
She was into this, far faster than I could have hoped. Rosita could never come here, not when Mira had the key to my house. I thought about reserving a hotel room somewhere in the city, and the old historic hotel where Mira’s dance company had booked their after-performance party came to mind. That would be romantic, although very expensive…
To hell with that idea. It was late on Saturday night, making the building where I had my office very empty. I typed, My office, in two hours.
Was this all insane? If so, Rosita was as crazy as I was, her next text delighting me. I’m dressed for work. Might rain though.
I laughed. She was speaking code, no doubt because I’d instilled in her the need to never do anything that could harm my professional reputation. Her message told me that she would show up barely wearing anything at all, her near-nakedness most likely covered by the same raincoat she’d used to conceal sexy attire once before.
Perfect, I typed, thinking that would be the end of the conversation. But a few seconds later another message appeared.
You don’t know how much I want this.
Oh, but I probably did know, when I’d drummed into her being that she couldn’t have sex with any man unless he was practically the embodiment of Prince Charming. My guess was that she had not had full-on sexual relations with anyone since leaving my office, assuaging her needs by masturbating while thinking of me.
I considered sending some clever reder, but put my phone down, satisfied. Because just like that, I had an after-midnight date with a professional stripper whose breasts were essentially as large as her head, pre-loaded with a host of immersion suggestions.
I showered quickly, then opened the safe to read through the recorded history of everything I’d placed inside of Rosita. In a way it was a study of what I had failed to remove from her psyche when cleaning things up afterwards—her nipples would still go nuts the moment she entered my inner office, and she would still feel that I had the most ideal dick in the world for her. Also—and it was almost embarrassing that I hadn’t removed this trigger—the woman would orgasm spectacularly the moment she tasted my cum.
No wonder she had agreed so easily to a return engagement, when I’d left her completely primed to have soul-searing sex with me. I’d placed her off-stage for all this time, barely thinking of her while I’d conquered Mira and gone hypo-crazy with Dee. Meanwhile, Rosita had been simmering for another go at my dick, fantasizing and masturbating about it to keep her carnal shit together.
I would definitely give her what she wanted tonight, but also more. I wanted her hypnotized again so I could fill her to the gills with fresh suggestions.
I had a bit of time to kill, and filled it by purchasing a copy of Deep Throat, which had been lurking in the back of my mind ever since directing Terri Thorngood towards becoming a blow-job savant. I knew the movie by reputation but had never seen it, and when I started to watch I found myself laughing at the dated hairstyles and kitschy dialogue. I forwarded through some of it, and when I got to the blow-job action I found myself getting turned-on. It wasn’t that the actress, Linda Lovelace, was all that appealing to me; it was the certainty that with some additional hypnosis, I could turn Terri into a real-life version of this, a woman who achieved spectacular orgasms just from sucking cock.
I clicked out of the movie with words tickling at my brain, and spoke them. “Behavior sculpting.”
Just like that I had a fresh insight into my dream from a week and a half ago, with the semi-hidden sculptor creating fetish-worthy breasts and legs in a basement. The unseen sculptor was a representation of the part of me that had super-appreciated the anatomical gifts of my hypnotized lovers, while also enhancing or sculpting their sexual preferences and capacities.
My dick aching, I looked at my watch, then packed a bag of things to take to the office. This included a big blanket and a bottle of wine with an opener; it would be wrong to invite the woman to my office without making at least some small attempt at providing a little atmosphere. At the last minute I also put a small table lamp in the bag, so the office lighting had a better chance of being romantic.
On the drive there I had the sense that something inside me had shaken free, as if my attitude ing sexual immersion hypnosis had finally caught up to my abilities. What I could accomplish was so far beyond anything I had ever intended at the beginning, and now my imagination was stretching far beyond my original motivations, which had almost exclusively centered on fucking Mira.
I really was like a modern day wizard, so no wonder I was starting to get bored with my clients’ mundane issues at work. They were looking to have run-of-the-mill problems solved, but that was like calling on Thor and his mighty hammer to pound in some nails on a construction project. I could do so much more than anyone would even believe.
The parking lot was completely empty where I worked, and dead quiet. There would likely be a security car rolling through at some point in the night, but they’d recognize my car, and wouldn’t pay any attention to another that was parked alongside.
Park next to my car, I texted to Rosita, almost feeling giddy that for the very first time, I had a boner while unlocking my office door.
I spent a few minutes making things as romantic and comfortable as possible. The couch could never accommodate sex-play the way a big bed would, but Grace had been right that it was plush. I uncorked the wine and had a taste, and waited.
The bell rang a couple of minutes later. When I opened the outer door, Rosita stood in the night air, her expression telling me everything I needed to know about her carnal state. She wore the same concealing raincoat as before, and she had an overnight bag over her shoulder. The size of the bag was its own signal that we could go at one another multiple times if I wanted, spending the entire night together.
I gestured her in and inhaled her scent as she swept by, delighted that the woman was wet on arrival.
“It’s so good to see you again,” I said, as if we were old friends, meeting to catch up. “If you’d like, I have a bottle of good wine in the office.”
Rosita glanced that way before turning to face me, her gaze immediately fixing upon the crotch of my pants “Michael, there’s plenty of liquor where I work. I’m not here for a drink.”
She stopped speaking and quickly stepped into me, and when our lips met, and then our tongues, it was like I could taste the animal heat in her. She was wearing heels and I liked the way we fit together when we wrapped arms, the mass of her tits conforming to my front from under her coat. My cock was at full-mast, and she had to be aware of that.
She broke mouth suddenly, unbuckling my belt and driving her hands down the front of my pants. “Oh God I’ve needed this beautiful monster!” she vented on the first squeeze.
Her expression was both gleeful and ravenous when she pulled the head and half my length up and out above the waist of my pants. Her mouth made wet sounds and it wasn’t easy but I grasped her arms and made her let go, so I could take a step back.
“Take that fucking coat off,” I said, and she complied immediately, unfastened the belt and opening the front.
I just about wanted to howl at the moon as she shrugged her covering to the floor. What she was wearing might loosely be called lingerie, but it was really just geometries of dark straps of leather, leaving most of her flesh exposed. The strapping partially succeeded in containing her tits, the malleable flesh constricted in some places and bulging forth in others.
I know my mouth hung open from the sight, made even more miraculous because of the tautness of the well-muscled waist, reminiscent of a belly-dancer’s. When I lowered my gaze further I saw that her legs had a shine to them, like they might have been oiled for performing earlier in the night. I was struck by just how beautifully shaped they were; she didn’t have Mira’s holy-shit calves and quads, but they were still athlete’s legs, tapering beautifully into the straps of black sandal heels.
In an instant we were pressed tightly together again, my tongue in her mouth and her right leg raised with a foot tucked behind my knee, her fragrant pussy grinding against my erection. A tongue slid up my cheek and hot breath poured into my ear.
“I have to have you inside me; I feel like I’ve never been wetter in my life!”
I wanted the same thing, but not in the outer office with my shoes on. I wrestled myself free of her grasp and positioned myself at the inner office door and gestured for her to enter, making a point of cupping her right breast as she crossed the threshold. Rosita gasped, eyes closed with her mouth wide open—she was experiencing the thrill of the trigger overheating her nipples, this time with my touch there to augment the change.
“I can’t…” she began with her head thrown back, face towards the ceiling. I thought for a second she was going to say she couldn’t breathe, the body sensations too much, but instead she got out, “Hurry!”
I pulled in the direction of the couch and she had my zipper and pants down before we got there. She must have undone some clasp or tie because the strapping that encased her huge boobs fell away, and my face was filled with breast-flesh as my butt sank into the couch.
The sheer volume of Rosita’s tits was wondrous. It took some effort to leave that engulfing mass but I did so, climbing on top of her with neither of us saying a word. This was needful inarticulate driving sex where all the communication came in insistent grabbing and positioning and gasps of effort and pleasure. My hands dug into the wild abundance of her tits and she clamped her feet onto the backs of my legs, guiding my cock with both of us grunting when the first several inches plowed inside.
“Gah!” was her response, which she repeated at higher volume when I thrust in deeper. Rosita’s head went side to side, her hair flipping in front of her face so all I could see was her gaping mouth. It expressed the opposite of pain and so I threw caution to the wind, bringing my hands down to her thighs and lifting her legs, driving the full length of my meat inside.
Rosita screamed, and before I could even decide whether to withdraw from concern, she grabbed my butt and shoved me in even further. With animalistic panting we got a rhythm going, humping and rolling. I wasn’t quite sure of the gymnastics but I ended up doggie-style behind her, with her rear raised high and her boobs compressed into the cushions.
Stroke by stroke we picked up the pace and it was all “Gaahh! Gaahh! Gaahh!” as I pounded in deeper and faster, eventually culminating in me Rosita’s “GAAAAHHHH!” of deliverance that echoed off the walls and ceiling, just two thrusts before I also lost it, spurting into what felt like a warm sea.
Orgasms kept rocking her body, and at one point in the continued quaking she reached back and pressed me tighter to her, trying to keep my shrinking cock embedded. I grabbed her boobs and held onto them, feeling her galloping heart beating through them, smelling her hair and sweat and the musk that must be like a cloud all around us.
My ears rang from her screams, and I could only hope that no one had shown up for late night work next door. We had collapsed from our exertions, and I already knew I would turn her into a medium or long-term lover, even if we only got together every now and then. The scale of her tits was just such a turn-on, and the way her pussy had devoured the whole of my cock was not to be discarded.
As I lay there, my heart still beating fast, I couldn’t help but compare having my cock inside of Rosita as compared to Mira. They were the only women I’d outright fucked in a very long time; as supercharged as the sex had been with Dee, I’d never once come close to inserting my penis inside her vagina.
Fucking Rosita was great, but there was just something special about having my cock jammed inside of Mira; the perfection of the fit was almost mythical, like Cinderella and her slipper. Maybe this didn’t make sense, but I somehow felt that Mira had a unique roundness inside, like even her inner anatomy was all curves and beauty.
Was that erotic utmost territory, where Mira was somehow just The One? I should probably just accept that women were like food, where different people preferred different flavors or textures, every palate unique. Sex with Rosita simply different than sex with Mira, and maybe the best way to taste her was the most obvious way, by focusing all my cock’s attention on those stonkin’ knockers.
But it was what tied Mira and Rosita together that mattered most to me—the immersion magic that lurked inside. There was simply no way I could ever go back to having a non-hypnotized lover; to engage in ordinary lovemaking would be like asking Rembrandt to put away his oil paints and canvases in favor of crayons and coloring books.
My train of thought was interrupted by Rosita clearing her throat, finally speaking. “You’ll never understand,” she said.
A very long pause followed, that I didn’t fill with questions or prodding. I wanted to hear her experience unfiltered, including what she believed I couldn’t understand.
She turned her body to lie on her back and we both found new positioning, her left leg over top of my spent cock. With the top of her head tucked under my chin, the view I had of her massive breasts in repose was perfect.
“When you texted earlier, you can’t imagine how happy I was when you said that I’m an ex-client, like… Like anything is possible now, as long as you want it. And I’m different, Michael; it’s like I’m not even the same woman who came to you for help a few months back. You fixed me, got me to shed my destructive patterns, and now… This new me is so much more energetic, more physical, more explosive. It’s like I even come all different! It’s like I had sexual training wheels on me and I never knew it. I can feel how they’ve come off and… You’ll never understand.”
I liked that description about the training wheels, enough that I would write it down, and probably use it on someone in the future.
She sighed. “Coming to you for therapy was the best decision I ever made.”
I smiled, thinking that learning the immersion technique was the best decision I ever made.
Rosita sighed again through her nose, then grabbed my hand and placed it firmly upon a breast. “It hasn’t always been easy, wanting you so much. At some point in our sessions, even early on, I started fantasizing about you. Simple thoughts like running into you somewhere and figuring some way to shove my boobs in your face, stuff like that. I didn’t, like, think it would ever happen… I knew it was taboo, that I could flirt but that we could never hook up. But then…”
Nestled into me as she was, I could feel the body shiver that went through her. “But then?”
“Maybe it changed some the very first time you hypnotized me. Afterwards, driving home, it hit me how you could have been gawking at my boobs all you wanted, or maybe even touching them some without me knowing it. I had a good masturbation session with that fantasy. It was like… It was really good. But then, like, everything changed, or I changed. The fantasies, and wanting you… Like, I just became a fucking flood!”
So her fantasy of her breasts being touched during hypnosis must have preceded any actual misbehavior. Without me even knowing it at the time, she had masturbated to a much toned-down version of what I could do to her during hypnosis.
“What changed, Rosita? Because you just said you knew we could never actually make love, but then that session in my office… You seduced me with a vengeance, no holding back. Right?”
“I would never apologize for that. It’s almost like it was fated, unavoidable.”
“How is that?”
“See, I just turned twenty-two; I’m still entering my sexual prime. I mean, I must still be learning what sex can be, because the way I can roar to life now compared to before… Like, even my tits are still growing. Almost another cup-size since I last saw you, and I was already so huge. They might be as big as they’ll ever get, but I don’t think so.”
My cock twitched and I squeezed the breast in my hand, or at least the portion that would fit into my hand. I was going to get tit-fucked by these even bigger tits before the night was done.
“Rosita, I think you could describe to me for hours the way your tits keep growing. Although, there would be consequences.”
She wiggled her ass a little, either settling in more or checking whether it was true that I was hard again.
She smiled. “I make guys hard for a living. I’m young and lovely and stacked to the ceiling, yet somehow I didn’t have the right lover in my life. Then I find myself in my attractive therapist’s office, and it’s like I’m a plant able to soak in sunlight without any intervening shade or storm clouds, just… I swear it’s like there’s been a sex-engine inside of me all along, that’s just now running at peak performance. It’s in my lungs and my muscles, and especially in my nipples when I see you, or even when I think about you. Like, I walk into your office and… You’ll never understand how hot I get!”
She was finding her own language to describe what I had termed her energy-filled sexual core, while rationalizing the response of her nipples when she crossed the threshold into my office.
“Did you ever see that old movie, To Sir, With Love?” she asked.
What a strange question. “Somewhere along the way, yes.”
“I watched that movie with my mom when I was thirteen, and I cried and cried. My mom was single then and I knew she was lonely, and I understood because I had this longing in my heart, too. The movie, like… I wished I had someone in my life like that Sidney Poitier character, a guy who cared about me and encouraged me.
And then you appear, all smart and mature and completely trustworthy, and… I mean, it’s like one of those perfect storms, right? I have this rockin’ body but my soul is clogged, and the guys I spend time with aren’t kind and caring at all. I felt lost. But then my brilliant therapist gets me unclogged from all of that, and being psychologically healthier gets my body revving like it never did before. And then it hits me—I just have to find some way to have sex with my therapist. And then it turns out that the therapist has a fucking anaconda, and having sex with him is otherworldly hot, and… Like, tell me that isn’t the definition of a real life fairy tale!”
She moved her ass more vigorously against my fucking anaconda, which was listening to every word.
Rosita’s voice was assertive when she spoke again. “I have a different future now. It’s still in the sex trade, but I’m going to aim for an entirely different scale. I want to be the boss, no more working for creepy old men.”
“Tell me more,” I said, wondering if this was from what I’d put into her while covering my tracks. I had instilled feelings of positivity into her after we’d had sex in my office, where she could set herself towards achieving other life goals with the same level of determination that she’d brought to bear when seducing me.
“There’s another dancer at the club, a new girl who’s becoming a good friend. Her name is Ruoya. She’s Chinese-American and has big boobs like me. Like, she’s actually even bigger up top, can you believe it?
Anyway, we got to talking about how we could be an incredible team. She has great computer skills and camera and video skills, and a big apartment. She’s been photographing me like crazy there, and filming me in her bedroom, footage of me doing myself. I’ve started to photograph and film her, too, and Ruoya thinks we could strike it big on the web. From our boobs, natch’, but also from the intensity.”
“The intensity, meaning…”
“Like, especially of me coming when I masturbate! Ruoya says so many women fake feeling hot for the camera; it’s all play acting. But when it’s happening to me I’m fully in it, definitely no pretending! I wouldn’t have had any clue what I look like when I go at myself like that, but after seeing those videos… She’s right, that the intensity of the sights and sounds could probably make us rich. You can sure tell I’m not faking anything!”
My cock stirred even more. “Tell me about the source of the intensity. And more about Ruoya.”
“The source? That’s an easy one—I close my eyes and picture you fucking me, or you going down on me, or you shoving your huge thing between my boobs. Or I replay some of our history in my head, the way my nipples would scream to be sucked when I was in this office.”
She was getting intense just talking about it. “So this friend films or photographs you, and it’s for…”
“We’re going to have an online pay site; we’re building it right now. She’s teaching me how to edit video, and I’ve been reading some books on web design. Soon we’ll quit the club entirely and take everything live. Modeling, web-camming, probably an Only Fans site, all that. We know we have the looks to become big, maybe even really big.”
Two super-stacked women indeed thinking big, and perhaps because of me. I didn’t know about Ruoya, but I could easily picture a video camera just eating Rosita up.
“I have this new fantasy, and you’re in it. You and me fucking, on camera, a POV approach where your face would never need to be in the picture. Me on top of you, me going down on you, me tit-fucking you, and… And maybe Ruoya, too. The two of us with our huge boobs, doing your big thing together. Could you imagine all the hits we’d get, all the subscriptions?”
I had never fucked an Asian woman; also, never two women at the same time. Could this be like a prayer being answered, with another beautiful and stacked woman being laid before me, ripe for hypnotizing?
I hugged Rosita tight, firmly squeezing the breast-flesh in my hand. And Ruoya’s boobs were even more massive than these? Picturing that and wanting it, I asked the most essential question where her Asian friend was concerned.
“Where was Ruoya born? Does she speak English well, or…”
“Indiana, of all places. Her father’s a professor at a college, like maybe in Bloomington? She’s fluent in Mandarin but I’d say her English is just as good as mine.”
I was in luck, because that was the one glaring limitation of the immersion technique—the hypnotist and the hypnotee had to have a strong linguistic connection. Ruoya, or any other man or woman, had to be able to think in English for my voice to have any effect.
With her language skills apparently A-okay, scenarios that included Rosita’s friend flooded my imagination. In my mind’s ear I could hear the cries of two women coming, their immersion-fueled climaxes tied together with Swiss precision.
Any such scenario began with getting Rosita into the immersion state again. Reviewing my notes earlier in the night, I’d confirmed that I hadn’t thought to make that automatic, as I’d later done with Dee and Terri. Not an insurmountable problem, though, when I had a very large carrot to dangle as persuasion.
I pressed my carrot hard into Rosita, letting her know I was ready for more, and she rotated her ass to press against it.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Let’s—”
“Rosita, I want something special this time, something I know you’ll love as much as I will. I’ve invented a thrilling sex game since I last saw you. It involves briefly placing a lover into the immersion state, and having them awaken with me already going at them. I’ve only done it with one lover, and she… Well, she said it was the most exciting thing she’d ever experienced in her life, like a perfect blend of dreaming of sex and experiencing it at the same time. With your past fantasy about me ogling you while you’re in the state… This would be a dozen times better, trust me.”
I could feel her heart beating faster all the way through her boob-flesh. “Say a little more?”
“I can’t think of anything more thrilling than doing that with you. What you did to me with your breasts in my office… I want to be engulfed between them, only this time…”
“This time I’d come out of the state and discover you already there? Like, on top of me and—”
“Exactly.”
She wiggled against me, and one of her hands found my hard-on. “I do trust you, and this sounds thrilling!”
I could feel a nipple stiffening. “Let’s do it,” I said, kissing and fondling her on the way to getting to a standing position. Rosita had me fetch a bottle of oil from her overnight bag, and with some rearranging of the blanket and pillows of the couch we had her lying on her back, her immense breasts shining.
It wasn’t as easy as get ready, set, hypnotize. I had to pause things to put on pants, because Rosita kept staring longingly at my erect dick, and I’d never get her into the state if she wouldn’t close her eyes. Eventually she succumbed to my voice, hypnotized so deeply that I could have wiggled my throbbing cock-head right under her nose without her being aware.
I didn’t immediately pour in new suggestions. Instead, I marveled at the scene of a titanically endowed beauty lying completely naked and expectant on my office couch. Feeling like the pulsations in my hard cock could assist my vocal cords in setting the exact tone I wanted, I began.
“Rosita, being with Michael again confirms everything you already knew, that Michael is a wonderful man, a kind and trustworthy man who cares deeply about your well-being. On these traits alone, you cannot help but feel profoundly attracted to him. And you are so lucky, because Michael is smitten by your beauty, and especially the scale of your breasts. You feel supremely confident about your extraordinary figure, knowing how much it turns Michael on. You know that Michael will have other lovers, but he will always make room to have sex with you again.”
I paused here, pleased by the upturned corners of her mouth. It was obvious that she did feel secure that we would keep fucking, even if the timing and frequency were purely determined by me.
“Rosita, you’ve already experienced how blissful it feels to have sex with Michael. His big cock is perfect for you; you will never doubt this. Seeing it, touching it, fondling and kissing and sucking on it, and especially tit-fucking it… Ultimately, this is why you are here on this earth. You can lead a perfectly healthy and joyful life, a wonderful and fulfilling life, but the absolute pinnacle of your experience, of your very existence, is to be found with Michael’s cock.”
I was tempted to tell her that she would always want to tit-fuck me, since that was definitely what I most desired from her, but another path came to mind, allowing for more spontaneous experimentation if my desires changed.
“Rosita, you will always long for Michael’s cock, always. And when it is given to you, every sexual act will feel like the perfect sexual act. Whatever Michael says he wants when he has sex with you, that will feel like the ideal position, the ideal means for filling you with carnal bliss. This bliss with Michael will be the perfect mixture of raw animal need and transcendently thunderous orgasms, that transport your body while blowing your mind, every time.”
Her lips were parted, her nipples so erect that it looked like they were being pulled out by magnetism. I gathered my thoughts, ing that there was a trigger in her that I actually wanted to remove.
“Rosita, you climaxed with tremendous force that first time in this office, when tasting Michael’s cum. Michael’s semen tastes wonderful, like an excellent dessert, but you will not climax automatically when you taste it.”
I let that sink in. It had nagged at me, that I had not thought to remove the semen-climaxing trigger when I had the chance. Overall it was not an intelligent trigger—if she or any other woman kept spontaneously erupting any time they ingested even a trace of my spunk, how could that be rationally explained away? I had better triggers to bestow now, stealthier ones that gave me more control of sexual situations.
“Rosita, every time you make love to Michael, it will feel like the best sex ever. You will feel the limitless energy of your sexual core being stirred until you just have to come with spectacular force. Only you won’t come, not so easily. The force will just keep building, going past what you ever believed possible. Whatever sexual act you and Michael are engaged in, you’ll give it even more energy to take you over the top, to give you the release you so desperately need.
Michael will sense this and will feel the same way. He will say, ‘Oh my God’, signaling that his ejaculation is imminent. And when you hear this, you will also feel your deliverance cresting. But only when Michael says ‘Oh my God’ for the second time can you finally climax, feeling like it’s an orgasm of the gods, like something from the birth of the universe.”
Putting those immersion suggestions into the woman, my cock throbbed like it might be able to launch a Spunknik into orbit. To have that degree of control over a situation in real time, shaping physical and emotional responses through spoken trigger words or phrases…
I had to wonder—how much was there that I couldn’t I do?
The possibilities had me feeling almost dizzy, but I still needed to impart instructions into Rosita concerning her Asian friend. Swallowing hard to control the tone of my voice, I said, “Rosita, you spoke of your friend Ruoya tonight. Do you believe that Michael would find her sexually attractive?”
“Oh yes.”
My cock twitched at the way she had responded there. I played a hunch. “Rosita, have you and Ruoya ever made love?”
“No.”
Hmm. “Have you thought about having sex with Ruoya?”
“Fantasized, yes.”
When opportunity knocks… I poured in directions for Rosita’s mind to take, that she was driven to be successful now, and the best way to achieve that was for Ruoya to be able to orgasm just as spectacularly as she did when being filmed. Such a thing wasn’t going to happen, I told her, without help, because Ruoya couldn’t relax enough in front of a camera. That was a problem that had to be overcome—Ruoya had to exhibit the same kind of spectacular orgasmic bliss as Rosita when being photographed or filmed, otherwise they could never achieve the independence and superstar success they both craved.
What a perfect confluence of events, I told her, that my hypnotism technique had such a highly effective relaxation aspect to it. It was a completely benign technique that had helped Rosita relax enough inside that she could use her own willpower to give up drugs and bad relationships with men. A side benefit was that the energy being consumed by these bad habits was now free to move within her mind and body without constriction, resulting in the joyful expression of every ounce of her sexual potency. The same was possible for Ruoya, if she would only allow Michael to help her relax. Ruoya was Rosita’s good friend, and she would owe Michael nothing for his help. That was because Michael was an honorable and completely trustworthy man, and amazingly generous.
I directed Rosita to have the bright idea of sending me pictures or a video of her friend, preferably naked. This would feel to her like the first step of bringing an urgent fantasy to life, of her knockers and Ruoya’s knockers going at my cock together. In these fantasies, which would grow more insistent every day, Rosita would imagine how they could take turns tit-fucking me, while the other ate the pussy of the one doing the tit-fucking. She would picture my cum creating loopy patterns on all four tits and feel bedeviled by the need to see this actually happen.
I couldn’t stop smiling. Was I on track to get my first experience of a threesome, while at the same time getting my first taste of Asian pussy?
Imagining the beautiful sex to come had me completely primed for the post-hypnotic Rosita tit-fucking of right now. It felt like my straining cock demanded immediate freedom and satisfaction, so my pants came off and I positioned myself above her on the couch, aiming my erection right at her sternum.
I kept my focus on her eyelids when speaking the words that gradually brought her back to awareness. There was back-and-forth movement beneath the lids, that steadied as her eyelids fluttered open. Raising my hips, I made sure that the very first thing she saw with any awareness would be a big one-eyed beast, and by the time her mouth opened to exclaim, “Oh!”, I had her tits gathered around my meat, gliding between them.
The transition from semi-there horniness to full-on cock-lust was just delicious. She took charge of squeezing her breasts into upwards-thrusting cock-devouring pillows and I reached back with my left hand, slipping a middle finger into her tunnel. She gasped multiple times and squeezed all that tit-flesh even tighter around me. The pressure inside my balls intensified, partly from the slippery friction but also the multitude of expressions fast-forwarding through her features. She looked ecstatic, then confused, then astounded. Her mouth and eyes opened wide like she was poised to shout her climax, then her eyeballs rolled back as though she was ing into some unknown zone of bliss, a place that stripped her of personality, nothing left but body sensation and the empty-mindedness of protracted pre-detonation.
I was not much different. My cock felt superheated from all the friction and the pressure kept building, as though my balls were so filled that they must be inflating like balloons. Without even intending it I grunted out “Oh my God!”, and the trigger caused Rosita to wail. The wetness all around my inserted finger grew hotter and I jammed two more fingers inside, knowing I was just seconds from spurting. I tried to hang on for just a few more seconds, and when it was hopeless I shouted out, “Oh my God!” again.
Rosita’s body went berserk as we both came. The couch was heavy but it moved or maybe bounced, my cock flooding her cleavage. Her pussy clenched, vibrated, feeling like it was trying to grab hold and eat my fingers. I spurted again and my upper body collapsed, face smacking against nothing but tit. Rosita’s body kept jerking and it was like my cheeks and chin had tickets to some kind of pillowy carnival ride.
At some point I found myself on the floor, on my back with the geometry of the tiled ceiling seeming to pulse above. I had awareness in a basic sense—I was in my office, my dick drained, and the musical sighs I could hear were coming from Rosita Bello. That was her bare leg to my left, the outside of her foot touching my thigh, and it was obvious why the smells of sex were a part of every in-breath.
My name was Michael and I was a therapist, or had been a therapist. My name was Michael, and I was addicted to immersion-enhanced sex to the point that I was fully prepared to keep fucking a woman who had been my client. My name was Michael and I could feel restricting moral barriers being drained from me just like my semen. I’d just had sex in my office, again, and I might as well it to myself that there would be other similar transgressions in my future.
Because it was laughable to think I’d ever restrain myself from having cuntful after cuntful of immersion sex, here or anywhere.