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Mesmerizing Love

by NookieNotes

Mesmerizing Love

“I deserve you,” were his first words to me. “I deserve you and I will own you.” Then he mesmerized me, and I have been his ever since.

I’m married to a man who teaches people to coerce others for a living, you see. He’s a hypnosis author. Really, you can’t make this stuff up.

I suppose I could claim that first meeting was coercion. I never meant to have a drink with him, much less any of the things that followed. Yet, when I look back at it, I remember every moment, every thought that went through my head, and I know I made the right decisions.

Did I have help? Uh huh. I did. He’s explained it to me. What he did was simply part the curtains of my objections to let the real me come through. He says that if I truly didn’t want him, didn’t see something special in him, didn’t truly long to be his, it never would have worked, no matter his skill.

Lucky for me, he says, he could see into my soul, and take me where I wanted to go.

It was a crowded room. People were milling about, numerous conversations were going on simultaneously. Somehow his voice rose above the rest, though he was talking at a normal volume.

I was in the middle of a debate with a friend when I first noticed him. How the other ladies fluttered around him flirting and preening under his attention. I know how it goes. I’m no super model, but I have my share of admirers. It’s fun to watch a master work the room.

My attention was divided. A single ear was on my good friend, as we debated the merits of one philosophy versus another. When my friend made his excuses and took his leave, I decided to hang around a bit longer, so made my entrance into his circle.

I stepped into his line of sight with a simple greeting to a mutual acquaintance, and made my presence known. Luckily, the conversation was focused on a topic I had many opinions about, so I was able to interject here and there, bringing his attention back to me again and again.

It seemed natural. Slowly, we found ourselves moving closer together as people in our circle shuffled and left for drinks or wandered away. Soon, it was as if there were only the two of us.

That’s when he spoke those words. I felt the truth of them resonate deep within me, but I laughed and played it off, flirtatiously challenging him. He played along, or so I thought, lightening up, joking with me, touching my arm lightly as he led me away towards the bar.

Settling me on a bar stool, he stood very close while ordering, then spun me so that he was in front of me, standing between my knees.

I don’t remember much of what he said, really. I know it was witty and it made me laugh.

I do remember thinking that I should be nervous. He was touching my inner thigh with his hand, and yet my objections seemed to melt under his gaze, swept away by his soft words as he spoke.

Then he paused. Looking at me for a moment, he turned and set his nearly empty glass on the bar. Taking a short step closer, he put himself into my innermost personal space. My brain was screaming out warnings yet I remained calm. I watched and waited to see what he would do.

For a long while, he did nothing. Just stood and gazed at me. Amidst the warnings and alarm bells, small questions rang out, “What is he doing” Should I be afraid?” The other side of my brain is urging me to run, to save myself from this danger, and still I stayed.

I find myself breathing with him, matching his pace. Strong hands reached out with no hesitation, sliding fingers through my hair, thumbs resting just in front of my ears. Fingertips pressed lightly in circles into the back of my head. I pushed back into them, my face tilting up towards him as he slid in to claim his first kiss.

I fully expected him to assume control, but he paused just a millimeter away, forcing me to the decision of taking the kiss ornot. I straightened into his soft, sensual lips. Pressing them into mine, his kiss was warm and giving, completely unlike any kiss I had ever felt.

His kiss sent energy and warmth flowing into me, at once creating a need and fulfilling it. I could have kissed him like that for hours, but he pulled back, leaving me gasping for more.

Silently, he took my hand and led me away. There was nothing that seemed real to me beyond his hand on mine, his body walking before me. My mind was still clamoring, beseeching me to see reason, to turn and walk away. To get out, before I could be harmed in any way, or in every way. I could hear my objections raised one by one, yet they seemed unreal, dream-like. They didn’t matter to me in the here and now. I wanted this, whatever it was. I let them rage on ineffectually, to keep me company as we traveled.

When he pulled up into his driveway, I sat patiently in the car for him to walk around and open my door. My brain was shrieking, ”What the hell are you doing? This is a stranger’s house. You’re stuck here! He may be a homicidal maniac! You don’t wait for men to open car doors for you! Oh, but how nice that he did…”

Seems my brain couldn’t keep it up forever. It trailed off, and went silent for a while, perhaps waiting for something new to kvetch about or just.

Without a word, we walked directly to his bedroom through a modest, yet attractive home. No offers of drinks or making myself comfortable. He had a plan and he was making it happen.

I was helpless to resist. Or perhaps I wasn’t… but that’s a story for another time.

He sat on the bed as I stood in front of him. Normally at that stage, I would have been self-conscious and unsure of myself, and six to ten dates into the relationship, not a mere two hours, but I stood without qualms right there.

His soft sexy voice began again as he looked at me affectionately. He murmured how he loved my body, how he’d love to see all of my body standing before him, without the barrier of clothing. He spoke of how much it turned him on to think of me naked, and how much he knew I wanted to show myself off for him.

I couldn’t help but smile. He was so right. I began sensually stripping for him, removing one item of clothing at a time, showing myself off.

My mind whispered in horror. “He’s going to see your thighs, your ass, your paunch. Oh my God, oh my God. You’ll have to move to Venezuela to get away from the shame.”

I pushed the thoughts aside and displayed myself to him as he complimented me over and over, telling me how lovely I was and how good he knew I felt to be so free, so unreserved with my body. He spoke of how he was claiming me tonight, how he was making me his very own to love forever.

I did feel unfettered by the normal insecurities that have plagued me since puberty. He made me feel beautiful, like a goddess. Like I was doing everything right and could do no wrong. It was a heady, exhilarating feeling.

When he spoke of his own clothes, it seemed only natural for me to help him remove them, to take them off, appreciating the body of this man who adored me so thoroughly. Each button exposed new chest to be kissed and licked.

As I pulled off his shirt, he told me how wonderful it was to feel me, to have such a gorgeous woman so near to him. How I turned him on. How turned on he knew I was.

And I was.

As soon as he said it, I noticed the warmth between my thighs, the slick wetness beginning to pool there, readying me for whatever may come.

As I reached his belt and pants, I breathed him in deeply, this new man-scent, so unfamiliar, yet so safe and comfortable to me. His erection was proud and long, and I impulsively said that it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. He groaned, losing himself right in the middle of a sentence. It seemed that he fumbled for words for a moment again when my lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

I wanted to devour him, to take him into me, to show him all that I was feeling right then, the heat, the intensity that was flowing through my body.

He gently pulled me up and to him, his arms wrapping my body ‘round, his face nuzzling between my breasts for a few moments before he stood and laid me down before him on his bed.

His voice had changed. It was less serene, more forced. As his hansd roamed my body, his eyes drank me in and he fell silent.

He spoke one more time, telling me that he wanted this to be right, that he’d take no chances with me. He bent slowly and lifted a package to his teeth, unwrapping a condom and rolling it over himself.

Properly protected, he set himself gently just inside my entrance and held himself there. I had no choice but to obey his unspoken command. Lifting my hips from the bed, I pushed myself onto his cock, feeling him fill me.

That broke the trance. I moaned. He exhaled in release and suddenly hands were everywhere. My legs wrapped his waist, fingers clawing at his back. His hands pressed into my flesh, fingers raked my ribs , grasped at my breasts, pulled at my hips.

Or bodies crashed into each other, words of encouragement, words of lust and endearments filled the air around us, as we careened towards release together. As he started thrusting harder, I could no longer maintain control and I shuddered and shook, impaled on his cock. I felt my orgasm erupt, flowing through me.

He spoke again, adulation spilling from his lips, telling me how he loved to feel my spasms and wetness on his cock, how he wanted to feel me cumming, to please keep cumming for him. He so was near.

I have never cum so hard or so long. It seemed to last forever as I rocked to the sound of his voice, until he tensed and filled me with his essence, shouting out in relief and collapsing over me, enfolding me in his arms, cuddling me on his bed.

I fell asleep there, his whispered words in my ears I woke more refreshed than I ever had before, completely at ease and happy. He smiled and kissed my forehead as I woke. That single kiss bound my heart to him forever.

It seems almost like it was fate.

Since then, we’ve explored hypnotism in a myriad of ways. He’s helped me achieve more than I have ever thought possible, personally and professionally. I’ve overcome fears, self-doubt and insecurities. I’ve cum on command and longer and harder than I could have ever dreamed.

I never would have believed it could happen. That I would meet my Prince Charming, that he would sweep me away, not on a white steed, but with hypnotism, and that I would have spent 20 blissful years falling more in love every passing day.

I guess he was right. We did see something in each other that first night, and hypnotism or not, we were made for each other.


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