Mind Control - Pt. 01

"What d'you think? Shall we try it? Be exhibitionists? Just once, to see how it goes?"

I stared at her, wide-eyed. I could hardly admit that, from time to time I had been on one such site (the same one, I later learned), one of the men who wanked for a few women, or men posing as women. I loved the idea of going there with her, sharing her perfect tits with the world and fucking for hundreds of wanking onlookers. I felt, however, that I should moderate my enthusiasm.

"Well, if it's what you want, I suppose we can try it. Next weekend, perhaps. Give you time, in case you change your mind."

She reached across and grabbed my rather too obvious hard-on. She laughed once more.

"Liar! You love the idea. Look at you. Rock hard at the thought. Show me. Come on, let me see the cock that's gonna drive the audience wild."

I went to unzip myself and open my trousers, but she spoke up again.

"No! Don't just pop it out. Take everything off. I found this thing called CFNM. It means clothed female naked male. It looks fun. Strip off completely. Everything."

As I obeyed, she kept talking, saying what a shame it was that she couldn't invite a friend or too. She went on about how she would like to show off my cock and let others know how lucky she was.

Eventually, I stood before her, naked and erect. She gazed at me, running her tongue across her lips. As she took in every inch of my body, making me turn so she could see my ass, I felt oddly self-conscious, yet the thought she had put in my head had me massively turned on. The idea of being nude and at the mercy of two, three or even four women genuinely appealed to me.

"Mmm..." she purred, "any girl would be jealous of me. Start stroking yourself."

I did as instructed, when a wicked thought struck me. "Remember our agreement. If I do it, you should be willing to."

Her face flushed, as she considered the prospect. I considered it too. Imagining my wife stripping for a group of men, staring at her large, magnificent boobs, her gorgeous ass and her juicy pussy. If anything, I became even harder, and stroked more vigorously.

"With the right men," she pondered, "it'd be fine. So long as I'm not some kind of fuck object, being degraded. Maybe with a mixed group -- men and partners. I'd have to shave myself. From what I've seen, that's the thing to do." She grinned coquettishly. "I should do that anyway. So should you. How about we shave each other next week? That'd be fun."

I was reeling from her suggestions. She had gone from zero to infinity in a couple of days. Inside, I was loving it. It was precisely what I'd been wanting for years. My sole, niggling concern was that her inhibitions might suddenly return. It was then that I realised. Each time we took a step further on the path, I needed to hypnotise her -- just to breach the barrier of nature versus nurture. I was certain she would be amenable -- after all, it had worked so well up to now.

"There," she declared, "keep that in mind while you're wanking. I'm going to take my top off to help you. Then you can cum on my tits."

She stripped off her upper clothing, and held her breasts for me. They were truly magnificent, and as she pushed them together, I hurtled toward my climax. My head was spinning with images of her dancing naked before a group of people, sharing her beautiful body -- then bending low between her thighs, razor in hand, removing her pubic hair to expose her pink folds, the gateway to her clitoris and the entrance to her body -- and my lubricated cock, entering her anus, tight exciting, friction on my swollen glans -- until...

I ejaculated, creamy cum, first hitting my wife's chin, then spurting directly onto the shelf formed by her breasts. As I came, she grabbed my cock, and dragged it down to her tits, using it to push my semen onto her nipples, and removing her hands to allow it to follow the course of gravity. As I finished, she wiped her nipple around my dripping penis, and looked up at me, a wicked grin lighting up her face.

"Now clean it up."

I reached for my boxer shorts, which were closest, but she interrupted.

"No. With your tongue."

I adopted the expression which seemed to have become my default look over the past few days -- mouth wide in amazement.

"Go on," she demanded, "you know the rule. What I do, you must be willing to do. Lick me clean."

I had no reason to object. In truth, it was hardly a big problem. My semen was not poisonous, I happily let Chrissie (and previous partners) swallow it, and had tasted it myself before (in my younger days -- I suspect many men like to find out what they taste like).

So, I dropped to my knees and began to lap my juices off her chest. I loved licking and kissing her boobs anyway, so as I worked across the ample swoop of breast, down to her areolae, before drawing her nipple into my mouth, first one, then the other.

Her breathing was heavy, and as I licked and sucked, each breast first smothered me, then released, letting me breathe. I felt sorry for her. I had fucked a girl on her period before, but it had been unpleasant. It was not something I wanted to repeat, and, regardless, Chrissie had made it clear it was not for her. I knew she wanted release, but for tonight, it would have to be postponed.

As I withdrew, smiling at her red face and heaving bosom, she began to speak again.

"I had another idea. Your photos of me are amazing. I'm really proud of them, and so should you be. Why not make the most of your talent? We've got your hush money in the bank. Why not use it to set up a photography business? Specialise in model portfolios and boudoir photography. You still know students from your work. I bet they'd love to earn extra cash -- all you'd need to do is click buttons and talk them out of their clothes."

I had considered the idea already, but voiced my reservations.

"You'd be OK with me photographing other women? Possibly nude?"

She nodded. "Sure. I'll be your assistant. They'll be more comfortable that way. Thing is..." she was clearly nervous about her next statement, "I think I might be bisexual. Looking at the women on those porn sites. They're gorgeous. I was playing with myself, licking my fingers and wondering if they taste the same. Maybe I'm more bi-curious. I'd love to try some time."

I felt as if I were on a train, running downhill, picking up speed, with no brakes as it approached the precipice. The only way to avoid plunging over was to leap off -- but I didn't want to. I wanted to go careering on, enjoy the wild ride, even if it ended in disaster. Who knew? Perhaps we'd survive.

"OK," I said, "tomorrow, I'll go into town and buy all the gear I need to get started. I'll order backdrops online, in case I need them, and I'll call Cat."

Cat was a lovely young student. A natural redhead who had gravitated towards me from the first day of her course. Our relationship was strictly professional, as were all my friendships with students, but Cat and I had just got on well, despite her being almost half my age.

Still, Chrissie was not finished. "I wondered," she mused, almost as if she hadn't thought it all through beforehand, "if some women might be a bit... well... repressed, prudish -- whatever -- like I was. They might find it good to be in a mild trance, like I did."

I was shocked. "For fuck's sake. I'd be arrested. It'd be grossly unprofessional. Like using roofies. No way."

She waved her hands vigorously, my eyes drawn to her still-exposed bouncing, rippling breasts. She paused, waiting till my eyes returned to her face.

"No. I don't mean do it secretly. Just if they're saying they'd like to, but... you could offer it. If you've got their full knowledge and consent, you agree never to publish the images, but make them part of the package they can buy, surely that'd be OK."

She was right. Full consent, to help overcome social or upbringing related barriers. It was an excellent idea, and would really help. If I offered ten free prints, of which the nudes were not part, and made the rest available to purchase on request. Surely there was no reason not to operate like this. My only apprehension was that I might create more succubi like my wife now seemed to have become.

So it was agreed. I spent the following day shopping and placing orders, having time to set up my camera and lenses, along with lighting and practice with Chrissie, who posed topless for me before the kids got home from school.

In that dead time for students between lectures finishing and pubs opening, I emailed Cat. The outcome was better than I'd hoped. She replied within five minutes. Of course she'd promote my business, and it was already on her Facebook page and she'd circulated it to a dozen or more of her closest friends. Better still, she wanted to model for me. I replied, suggesting a date the following week, during school hours, and she agreed instantly.

I spent the next two days developing a website, travelling to local beauty spots to build a portfolio (and take gorgeous pics of a topless Chrissie outside in the open air, framed by trees, lakes, bushes and the bright, blue sky.

Chrissie and I agreed on Thursday for our mutual shaving, when her period should be little more than a memory. The agreement was made during one of our nightly sex sessions. We watched porn and accessed webcam sites to view couples like ourselves, fucking for an audience of several hundred.

She watched with her tits hanging out, insisting that I should be naked. Every night, I got a handjob, was sucked off or masturbated myself to orgasm. Every night, one of us ate my cum, not wanting to waste it by wiping it away with a tissue to be flushed or an item of clothing to be laundered. I was loving life, and just wanted to get back to proper fucking.

By Thursday, Chrissie was like a dog in heat. Her period was over, and she was desperate for her pussy to be filled. As soon as the kids were safely out of the house, she latched on to me like a limpet.

"Let's get shaved," she breathed in my ear, "then we can get fucking."

She dashed upstairs and reappeared with a large towel, shaving foam, a razor and scissors.

"Right," she announced, "we need before and after pictures. Shame we can't get pictures of us fucking. That'd be fun. We need a video camera -- or someone to take photos."

"We can get photos," I blurted, "this camera's got an automatic setting. I can stick it on a tripod and it'll take a shot every ten seconds. As long as we stay in the right part of the room, I can crop the photos later and we'll have a tremendous record."

While she fetched a bowl of water and put the towel on our bedroom floor, I set up a tripod, in preparation, for use after we were clean shaven.

We stripped naked, and I looked down at my semi-erect cock and the hair curling around the base, over my balls and thighs. I had never been a particularly hirsute person, and, in truth, was intrigued to see what I would look like. If my own appearance intrigued me, seeing my wife's bald pussy absolutely fascinated me. She had always been quite hairy, due to her darker skin tones, and despite the fact that she trimmed, shaving completely would expose every intimate detail of her sex.

I lay back first, as she took the 'before' pictures, my almost-hard penis resting against my thigh. She grabbed the scissors and began to cut, clipping the hair as short as she dared. I winced as she started on my balls -- no man would want ultra-sharp blades snipping that close to his scrotum -- but she was careful, and as she took the second round of photos, I had barely half a centimetre of growth left.

Next, she lay back, legs wide, exposing herself in a way that would have been unthinkable a few short days before. I took photos and began snipping across her pubis, before moving closer to her labia. The wrinkled folds were clearly damp, and both my eyes and fingers told me she was already quite wet. Her musky odour was like a primal pheromone and I was now rock hard.

Only then did it occur to me how nervous I was of taking a razor to the delicate, wrinkled folds. One slip, and the blood rushing the area would be running out on to towel below. I voiced the concern, not only for her pussy lips, but for the wrinkled sac enclosing my precious balls. We agreed that it would be better if we depilated these areas ourselves -- it would also be fun to photograph.

My turn to lie back again. She sprayed foam into her hand and coated around my rigid cock, tight balls and between my legs to my ass crack. She began to shave. I had, in truth, forgotten that she would be quite expert with a razor, having shaved her legs and armpits for many years. She cleared the area above my penis rapidly, one hand holding my engorged organ to the side as the other worked. She skipped past my balls and briskly denuded me from balls to buttocks.

As she grabbed the camera, I carefully shaved across my balls until every hair was gone. I wiped off the remaining foam and displayed myself to the camera. I liked the look. My cock looked bigger, and while a scrotum can never really look attractive, I felt it formed a neat little pouch, looking as good as it was ever likely to.

I smeared foam over Chrissie's pubic region, extending along her perineum, almost resenting the fact that the thin white layer obscured my view and my touch. I began to shave, loving the way her skin was revealed with each stroke of the razor. As she had skipped my balls, so I skipped her vulva, leaving a narrow strip of white, like an island in the ocean of pale pink-brown flesh.

As I grabbed the camera, she slowly and so carefully dragged the blade through the foam, revealing the wrinkled, fleshy lips and the slit between. I licked my lips in anticipation of spreading that slit and gaining access to the pink flesh within -- not to mention the clitoris, inner lips and her heavenly hole, waiting to be filled.

She towelled off the remaining foam and looked down at herself, before smiling at me.

"Don't we look pretty," she giggled, "I've never seen myself looking so neat and tidy. It feels sexy." She laughed as another thought came to her. "I'm going to talk to my mum, knowing I'm bald as a coot down there. It'll feel so sexy in just normal places -- talking to my friends, on the bus. Ooh. I wonder if Hayley shaves. Or Siya. How about Katya. I bet they shave. We could talk about it."

I turned over the idea of her friends' pussies in my mind. Hayley was very much a middle-class, ordinary woman. I would be surprised if she shaved. Siya was Muslim, and would certainly remove pubic hair -- she had probably never had a bush between her legs, while Katya was stunning and sexy. Imagining her bald pussy, with her small, perfect tits and long, straight blonde hair. Any man would be happy to fuck these women, and picturing their bald pussies, lined up next to my wife was a fantasy to wank over one day.

"Oh!" Chrissie exclaimed. "I'll tell them about your photography business. Maybe we'll find out who shaves."

I took the camera and set it up on the tripod. I was just about to start the automatic snapping, when my wife turned to me once more.

"What about my bum?"

I looked at her quizzically. She returned my gaze, with a frustrated glare, which confused me. She continued.

"When I had a bath earlier, I used a squirty bottle to get clean. I thought we might try anal..."

While accepting that a razor wouldn't get too far in, I was certainly willing to try. She knelt up, cheeks spread as I looked at the puckered skin and hole in the centre. Grabbing foam and razor, I quickly removed as much hair as possible, leaving her ass looking very inviting.

"We can just play round there today. When the toys get here we can loosen things up a bit before you go plunging in! Stick with fingers today."

I admired her common-sense, and her research -- she even placed a small jar of lube on the bedside table.

Having set the camera up, with the rhythmic clicks as a coda to our actions, I lay next to my wife. Immediately, she grabbed my cock and began stroking up and down my shaft before bending forward and licking it from swollen head to base. She went beyond, taking each of my testicles in her mouth, then pushing my legs apart and tonguing the sensitive skin between my balls and anus.

She returned her attention to my erection, licking up its length, before swirling her tongue around the head and finally taking me in to her mouth and consuming the first few inches.

I leaned across and fingered her now bald pussy. She was wet. Very wet. My fingers slipped between her outer lips easily, and I found the nub of her clitoris, rubbing and tapping as we both breathed heavily.

She released me, allowing me better access to slippery cunt. I slipped a finger inside, and paid attention to her breasts. I took each nipple in my mouth, tongue swirling around the erect, rigid cylinder, sucking hard and biting down. I sought to replicate the pressure she had applied herself, making her cry out in pleasure and pain as I worshipped her stunning swellings.

The thought of licking the smooth, hairless skin around her labia was incredibly erotic as I worked down, lifting and spreading her legs. I shifted my body so I could gain access, using the slight pause to grab the tube of lubricant from the side table.

As my tongue worked between her labia, feeling the small button as a ridged target for my licking. I brought my arms under her thighs, using one hand to hold her outer lips open as I inserted a finger in her vagina.

With my other hand, I deftly unscrewed the lube and applied some to my middle finger. I reached under leg and slipped a finger between her buttocks to touch the soft skin leading to her anus.

She, meanwhile, had wriggled around so that she was able to suck me, in a 69 position.

I loved licking her hairless cunt. Somehow, not having the damp hair on my face and encountering only her freshly produced juices made her taste so much fresher. I was in heaven.

As I contemplated the wonders of our newly discovered passion, tongue flicking her clitoris, finger in her pussy, another touching her back entrance, I was suddenly brought back to reality by her finger pushing between my buttocks. She exercised none of my restraint, sliding straight in and sending previously unknown sensations through my body. I could only assume she had found my prostate as she worked the finger around, taking me to heights I had never known existed.

For a brief moment, I thought I must have cum in her mouth, only to realise that my cock was not spasming and I had not felt the familiar tension in my muscles before shooting my load. It was an orgasm without the cum. Unbelievable.

In response, I rammed my finger into her, hearing a sound deep in her throat as she kept sucking me. I kept working her two holes and her clit until I felt her release my cock and begin to moan. Her body tensed and thighs clamped me as she approached her now familiar orgasm. Then, suddenly, I heard her small whimpering sighs change to one long, extended moan as her juices doubled and redoubled as she climaxed. I continued licking and fingering while she came, extending her ecstasy until she pushed me back.

I shifted around, so I lay next to her and kissed her mouth.

"Clever boy," she whispered. "I taste different tonight. Wonder if it's 'cos I'm shaved or 'cos it's after my period, not before. Interesting."

Her almost academic consideration of her different taste had never really occurred to me, but now she mentioned it, I had often noticed that girls tasted different and that their natural juices were thicker, more gelatinous immediately before menstruation. In truth, I didn't care. I loved the tastes and scents of pussy, regardless.

Chrissie pushed me on to my back and mounted me. Grabbing my cock, she inserted it into her vagina, sliding down slowly and beginning to bounce up and down, rising until the tip nearly fell out, then sliding to consume my entire shaft, our now-smooth skins grinding against one another.