Power of Suggestion
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Power Of Suggestion free porn video
THE POWER OF SUGGESTION
Mike pushed his cart up to the checkout line andstudied the racks of tabloids and women's magazines. He was second in line,behind a woman with who was average size above the waist but had a giganticass. He watched silently as she piled her high-fat items onto the conveyorbelt.
The small upscale grocery was only a few blocksfrom his house. He recognized most everyone inside, employees and customersalike, from previous visits. His cashier was a regular and had waited on himnumerous times before. She had harshly dyed blonde hair over salon tan skin,and wore too much makeup for his taste. Her face had deep creases but she wasn'tunattractive. She looked like she was in her early forties but still dressedlike she was eighteen, with a spaghetti-strap halter top that didn't quitereach the top of her ultra-tight jeans visible underneath her employee smock.She had a damn good body for someone her age, including a big rack, but herclothes screamed Trailer Park. Mike took her for purebred white trash the firsttime he saw her, when she sported a small bruise under one eye poorly concealedby makeup. He noticed she tended to talk to the men in her lane a lot morethan the women, and he'd heard her flirting with them more than once. He'dchecked once – no ring on her finger. She'd engaged him in conversationon his last several visits, now that she recognized him as a regular, tryingto pry a little personal information from him. Mike had been mostly unresponsive,which only seemed to encourage her.
Big Ass finally cleared out of the way and Mikemoved up. He only had a few items, mostly frozen pizzas and a few bags of freshfruit, plus a twenty-ounce cold plastic bottle of Diet Coke from the smallcooler at the end of the checkout lane. The cashier, whose nametag – ofcourse – read Darla, looked up at Mike and recognized him. She surreptitiouslyturned and glanced outside. He'd parked his big Mercedes – brand new – withinview of the door. She gave him a big smile.
"How you doin' today?" she asked him.
"Fine," he said, tossing the last of his itemsonto the conveyor.
"I've seen you in here before," Darla said, thebig smile still on her face. "You live around here?" She whipped his itemsacross the scanner without even looking.
Mike looked up at her then, and pursed his lips. "Yeah,not too far away." He studied her thin, tanned face openly. She looked likeshe'd been rode hard and put away wet quite a few times in her life. He waswilling to bet that's what she expected out of men, and life, and had probablylearned to enjoy it..
"Michael, right?"
She had gotten his name off his credit card a weekor two before. He was young and hot, and she'd noticed him the first time he'dwalked in. He wasn't too talkative, but she'd noticed the lack of a weddingring immediately. Not that that made much of a difference to her, if the guywas hot enough. This one was younger than what she usually went for, but theMercedes had gotten her attention.
"Mike."
"I'm Darla." Her smile widened.
He nodded at her nametag. "I know." He dug outa big wad of bills and handed her two twenties. She pretended not to noticethe big wad. He came in shopping at all hours, never buying much. She didn'tknow what he did for a living, but his hours didn't seem to be regular, andhe always had a lot of cash.
She took a deep breath as she made change. "Youmarried?"
Mike paused, and looked her straight in the eyes,almost daring her. "Nope."
She cleared her throat. "You, uh, maybe want togo out to eat sometime? I know this place not too far from here that's gotgreat burgers."
"What time do you get off work?"
"What, uh, today? Um, five."
"I'll pick you up." He grabbed his bag of groceriesand the receipt out of her hand.
"Um, but . . ." She looked down at what she waswearing. She thought the smock was hideous; she could only imagine what thecute Mercedes owner must think of it. She looked back up to ask if maybe shehad time to go home and change first but he was already through the doors.
Mike caught up to Big Ass in the parking lot whereshe was bent over inside the rear hatch of a minivan. She glanced over at himwhen she heard the approaching footsteps.
"If you didn't eat so much crap you wouldn't beso fat," he told her.
The woman straightened up and her mouth openedin surprise. She'd never even seen this guy before.
"Your ass is gigantic," he went on, marveling atits size. Her bottom half was nearly as wide as the back of her minivan. Abovethe waist she was only slightly chubby, which made her back end seem even bigger.
"Just who do—" she began, as soon as shefound her tongue.
"Shut up," he told her tiredly. He never stopped,only slowed down, and began walking faster as he neared his car. "You wanta diet tip? You're only allowed to eat a meal after you swallow come."
The large-bottomed woman didn't respond to that,but a skinny middle-aged brunette exiting a nearby car heard what he said andgasped.
"You jackass pig!" she snapped.
Mike recognized this new woman. He saw her quitefrequently at the store. His roaming eyes took in her Cadillac and her expensiveclothes and two hundred dollar hairdo.
"Who said you could talk to me, you tight-ass trophy-wifebitch?" he snarled back at her. "You're not allowed to talk to me until youcan fit this inside your clenched little rear." He tossed her the bottle ofDiet Coke, which she caught reflexively. "Whyn't you go home right now andstart stretching. You shop on Thursdays?" He pointed at the plastic bottlein her hand. "Next Thursday when you come in, I don't want anything peekingout but the bottlecap and a smile."
He climbed into his car without giving her or BigAss another look. By the time he was out of the lot both women were in theircars and hurrying for home.
"So, what do you do for a living?" Darla askedhim as the waitress took their menus away. She took a long, nervous drag fromher cigarette, then a swig from the Bud in front of her.
They'd made small talk in his Mercedes on the wayover from the Shop-Mor. She'd seemed a little ill at ease sitting on the fine-grainedleather in her denim jacket. Mike had tried to hide his amusement at her discomfort.It was obvious she felt she was a little out of his league. She'd found outshe was exactly twenty years older than him, old enough to be his mother. Helooked older, but was really only twenty-three. If she'd known that she probablywouldn't have asked him out. She knew he could get younger, prettier womenthan her.
"Smoking's bad for you," he responded.
She squinted at him curiously, then nodded. "Iknow. God knows I've tried to quit half a dozen times. Always start right backup." She stared at her nails, which of course looked like crap, and she didn'thave the bottle with her for a touch-up.
Mike nodded slowly. He stared at her tits underher thin top, wrapped in a bra just a hair too small. She had cleavage to spare. "Likethe car?"
She looked at him, then smiled a little, almostguiltily, and glanced down briefly. "Yeah." She'd just been thinking abouthis car. How much did something like that cost? Fifty grand? More? She couldbarely afford next month's four-hundred-dollar house payment. When she sawhim staring at her tits she inwardly sighed with relief and arched her backjust lightly. Guys had been staring at her tits since the day they'd sproutedand they hadn't let her down yet. "Smells new." She sucked down the rest ofher Bud, then looked around for the waitress.
"It is." He stared at her tits some more. Verynice. Big, double D's probably, and they had to be real, she didn't have themoney for a boob job. He watched her sucking down more smoke. Women who smoked,he'd found, were usually much more oral than non-smokers -- in every way.
She stared at him earnestly, appraisingly, almosthungrily. This could get interesting, he thought .
"You want to know what I do?" he asked her.
"Yeah."
"Nothing."
Her brows furrowed slightly. "Nothing?"
He nodded. "Not a damn thing."
She wasn't sure if he was joking or not, then hereyebrows went up. "Inheritance?" she said, trying to conceal her excitementbut failing.
Mike gave a little chuckle. "Nope. I'm a freelanceconsultant for about a dozen companies."
"Really? What kind of consultant? What do you do?"
"Like I said, not a damn thing. They pay me andI cash the checks, and I don't do a thing."
Now she seemed confused. "Then what are they payingyou for?"
Mike smiled. "You wouldn't believe me if I toldyou."
Darla raised her eyebrows and looked at him. Thechange in light as she tilted her head made her wrinkles deepen with shadow.Her nose was a little too big for her face, he noticed. "Try me," she saidtauntingly.
Mike tilted his head. So she wanted to play? Hewas really starting to like her. What the hell.
"You see this?" he asked her, turning his headand pulling his hair back a little. He stuck his forefinger out and buriedit thumbnail deep in a divot she hadn't noticed above his left ear near thetop of his head.
"Oooh, what happened?"
"Car accident," he told her. "When I was seventeen.I wasn't driving, a friend of mine was. Neither of us were wearing seatbelts.I went through the windshield. He ended up getting killed. Even with this bigdent in my head, I felt fine. No bleeding, not a scratch on me. Didn't evenhurt. They ran all sorts of tests, said I was a lucky bastard, and let me outtwo days later. It took me two or three months to notice something strangewas going on."
"What?"
He smiled, and shook his head. "If I tell you todo something, you'll do it. Not just you, any woman. And you'll think it wasyour own free will. Doesn't work on guys, I don't really know why. With womenit works every time."
She laughed. "What?"
"I know. I'm crazy, I'm a nut. That's why I don'tmind telling you. Nobody believes it."
"What do you mean, they do what you tell them?Like what?"
He shrugged. "Anything. If I told you to rip offyour clothes and dance around the table naked, or set your head on fire, you'ddo it."
Now she was looking at him like he was crazy. Heshrugged again. "Told you you wouldn't believe me."
She blinked a couple of times. "What does thishave to do with consulting?"
"All the companies that pay me are owned by women.They're small enough so that they don't have stockholders that'll get suspicious,and yet won't go broke paying me. I went in there and told them to pay me asalary and put me on the books as a freelance consultant. So they did."
She lit up another cigarette and stared at himthrough the smoke. Just her luck. "Boy, you sure don't look crazy, but I guessI can still pick 'em." She knew there had to be a reason he was still single.
He smiled at her. He really was starting to likeher. "Sorry," he said with a big smile.
She shook her head again. "So tell me to do something," shesuggested. "Bark like a dog, or pretend I'm a chicken."
He laughed out loud. "I could, but it wouldn'twork. I mean, you'd think you were doing it because you wanted to. That youjust changed your mind or something."
"Uh huh." She tapped some ash into the ashtray.Their waitress appeared then with another beer for Darla. Mike watched herfor a second, as she leaned over the table, then noticed Darla staring at him.She jerked her head ever so slightly at the waitress, a smirk on her face.Like she was daring him.
Mike glanced up at the waitress. She was a skinnyteenager with long blonde hair and a few zits she'd tried to hide with toomuch makeup. Her nametag read KRISTEEN. She had on a green uniform polo shirtover khakis. Over the khakis was the small pocket-laden apron stuffed withstraws, napkins, and her order book.
"Kristeen," he said, as she straightened up togo. She turned slightly toward him, slightly breathless from running around.The restaurant was nearly full.
"Yes?"
Her breasts weren't very big, maybe big B-cupsin a bra whose white straps occasionally peeked out, but underneath the baggykhakis it looked like she had a firm, tight ass.
"Tell me the truth," Mike said, "what kind of pantiesare you wearing?"
"Thong," the young waitress answered without hesitation.Darla looked up at her, then glanced at Mike, who was smiling and having agreat time.
"Really," he said happily. "So you're a slut?"
"No," she replied, without any rancor. "I justlike the way they make my ass look. And feel."
"Okay. Why don't you go into the bathroom and takeyour bra and thong off. Throw your bra away, you don't need it. Then come backout here and show me your thong. And don't forget to put the rest of your clothesback on."
"Okay.' She turned on her heel and disappearedtoward the restrooms. Mike sat back and looked at his date.
Darla didn't say anything for a while. "She a friendof yours?" she asked after a while.
"Never seen her before in my life," Mike replied.They sat in silence for a few minutes until Kristeen returned to the table.It was obvious to both of them she'd taken her bra off. Her small breasts jiggledenthusiastically under her shirt as she walked across the floor. A white satinthong was crumpled in her hand and she held it out for Mike to see.
"Thanks," he said. "Not much fabric to it, is there?Why don't you eat it while you're checking to see if our order's up."
"Okay," the young girl said cheerfully. She poppedthe ball of white fabric into her mouth and began chewing as she turned andwalked away. Mike looked across the table at Darla, who looked both angry andshocked.
"How much are you paying her? That was disgusting."
"Told ya, never seen her before in my life. Asfor disgusting," he paused and stared at her pointedly, "you need to work onyour acting. I've just met you and I'd bet you've had things in your mouththat would make that thong taste like a breath mint."
She colored and angrily stubbed out her cigarette.Before she could respond Kristeen returned with their food. They both watchedher chewing busily as she laid their plates on the table. "Don't ever weara bra," Mike told her. "And when you're giving head, always swallow."
"Okay," she said, a half-chewed lump of thong inher cheek. "Is there anything else you need right now?"
Mike looked down at his food, then at Darla's. "No,I think we're fine," he told her. "You can throw whatever's left of that thongaway."
"Thanks. Just let me know if you need anything." Sheturned on her heel and disappeared.
"These do look like good burgers." Mike lookedup at his date, who looked like she'd lost her appetite. She stared at him,nervously sucking at her cigarette. He could almost hear the wheels spinningin her head.
"Did she really do that just because you told herto?" she asked after a minute.
"Yep," Mike said around a mouthful of burger.
She picked up her bottle of beer and quickly drankhalf of it down. "I think you know her, that you're pulling a scam," she said.
Mike shrugged. "Could be," he admitted. He finishedchewing and stared at her. "But you're soaking wet just thinking about thepossibilities, aren't you?" he said quietly. "That maybe I can makeyou do whatever I want just by telling you."
Her face turned dark red and she puffed furiouslyon her cigarette, but she didn't say anything. Her nipples were hard as rocksthough her blouse. She hadn't touched her food yet. Mike took another biteof the big burger and chewed slowly. After he swallowed, he said, "If I tellyou, or even ask you to do what she just did, I won't know if it's you doingit of your own free will or not."
She blinked and looked at him through the cigarettesmoke. "Are you telling me you want me to go into the bathroom and—"
"If I tell you, you'll doit," Mike said pointedly, his voice free of doubt. "I'm tired of telling womenwhat to do. It's getting boring. I want one that'll do it just because shewants to do it and not because I tell her to."
Darla finished another cigarette, not saying anything,and pushed around the fries on her plate while Mike worked at his burger. Suddenlyshe stood up from the table, paused a second, then turned and walked off. Mikekept eating, not looking up to see if she was heading for the bathrooms orthe exit. He ate another four bites, sipping at his pop, and then Darla wasback, standing beside her chair.
She seemed out of breath, and looked flushed. Hernipples were hard as rocks and every man in the restaurant who could see hercould tell she wasn't wearing a bra. Mike held out his hand.
Her hand quivering, Jenny placed a wadded up ballof black satin in his palm. He could tell just from the amount of materialthat it was a thong. With a shuddering breath she sat back down in her seatand picked up her fork.
Mike set the wadded up underwear on the table nextto his plate and watched as it partially unfurled. He looked across the tableand saw Darla was staring at it as well.
"Do you want me to tell you to do something?" heasked her quietly.
She opened her mouth, then closed it. She sat likethat for over a minute, her face conflicted.
"You're a total slut, aren't you?" he said.
She licked her lips, coloring just slightly, thenlooked him in the eye. "Yes."
"Say it."
"What?"
"You heard me."
She sat and looked at him for just a second. "I'ma slut," she said in a voice husky with passion.
"Just a slut?" he prompted with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm a total slut," she told him.
"Really?"
"I'm a dirty little whore," she breathed. "Theonly thing I'm good at is fucking."
Mike smiled, and picked his burger back up. "Ithought so."
In the restaurant parking lot, Mike sat behindthe wheel and looked across the car at Darla, who was still breathing rapidly.Even in the shadowed interior he could see her hard nipples poking at her shirt.He'd left her panties sitting on the table next to the tip. She seen that buthadn't commented, just silently followed him out to the big Mercedes.
Jesus, I can't believe I'm doing this ,she thought, as she stared at his silhouette. When he shifted on the seat,though, turning slightly toward her, she found herself sliding across the leatherto him. A voice in her head echoed quietly: He's young enough tobe my son, but the thought only got her more excited .
Mike said nothing as she expertly undid his beltand pants and sucked him into her mouth. He was soft at first, but the self-professedwhite trash slut was an expert cocksucker, as he'd suspected, and in no timehad all eight and a quarter of his inches down her throat. He reached underher with one hand and undid the two buttons on her top so he could play withher surprisingly firm tits. Her nipples felt as hard as they looked and shegroaned as he pinched them.
He squeezed and pinched her nipples and breasts,but the abuse only heightened her excitement. She was a drooler and a slurper,and soon the car echoed with the wet sounds of her bobbing, sucking mouth.
Mike said nothing when he was getting close, onlyplaced one hand lightly on the back of her neck. She increased her pace, anda few seconds later he grunted and began spurting. She slurped even louderand swallowed it all, as he knew she would.
She sucked until she was sure she had it all, thensat up and wiped her mouth. Mike said nothing, just glanced from her down tohis still undone pants. She bent back over and carefully stashed his equipmentaway before zipping up his pants and wrestling with his belt.
Mike started the car and put it into gear, pullingout of the parking lot as Darla slid back over to her side of the car. Outof the corner of his eye he watched her tits bounce as the Mercedes' wheelshit a pothole.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, then hesaw her shaking her head. "I'm an idiot," she said, finally buttoning up herblouse. She looked at him inside the dark car. "Crazy. You're fucking scammingme with a line of bullshit and I fucking fell for it. Hell, I still half believeit. And I don't even know who the hell you are."
He smiled. "Yes you do. And I know who you are." Hiseyes moved up to the rearview mirror, and he frowned.
"What?" She looked out the back window and sawa police car behind them with its lights going. Mike pulled the Mercedes tothe curb with a sigh.
"I wasn't even speeding," he told her. "It's thecar. Envy, or something."
Between the red and blue flashers and the spotlightaimed right at his side mirror all Mike could see of the officer was a silhouetteuntil he was next to the car. By that time he had his license, registration,and proof of insurance in his hand and the window down.
"Was I speeding?" he asked tiredly, as the officerstopped at his elbow.
"You don't know how fast you were going, sir?"
Mike glanced up at the officer, then smiled widely,almost beaming. He turned to look across the car at Darla, then back up atthe officer.
"Tell me the truth, why'd you stop me?" he asked.
"I saw the car. You're rich, you can afford a ticket,and I've got a quota," the female cop told him brusquely.
The officer had brown hair pulled back in a tightbun and a pinched face. Under the bulky Kevlar vest and duty belt it was hardto tell what kind of body she had but she wasn't fat.
"Tell you what," Mike told her with a smile. "I'llconsider this a warning, and you can ticket somebody else to make your quota.'
"Yes Sir."
Mike glanced over at Darla. Her mouth was openslightly, and she had an expression of disbelief on her face. He looked backat the cop, who'd closed her ticket book.
"Hey, that's nice, what is that, a Glock? Handme your gun, please."
"Yes Sir." The cop unholstered her pistol and handedit to Mike, making sure not to point it at him. Mike turned to Darla and justlet her look at the gun for a minute before turning back to the officer.
"Could you bend down here please? Good. Now, openyour mouth." Mike put the muzzle of the pistol into the officer's open mouth.He looked over his shoulder at Darla, who was too terrified to speak. "Suckit. Harder. Slurp a little. Good, very good."
"Thank you." He pulled the gun out of the woman'smouth and handed it back to her. "Hey, do you have a baton? Let me see it."
The cop reached behind her back and produced ashort black shaft about eight inches long. "That's it? Seems kinda short."
"It's telescoping," she told him.
"Hmm." He studied her for a few seconds. "Theysay a lot of female cops are lesbians. Tell me, are you?"
"Yes, I am," she said immediately.
"Do you have a girlfriend?"
"Yes."
Mike handed her his driver license. "Here, copydown my address. Film the two of you having sex. Use the baton, on yourselfif she won't let you do it to her. Send me a copy of the tape. I want it withintwo weeks."
"Yes Sir." She scribbled his address into a smallspiral notebook, then handed the license back to him.
"You have a nice night," he told her.
"You too sir. Drive safe." She turned around andwalked back toward the flashing lights of her cruiser. Mike put the Mercedesinto gear and slowly pulled away from the curb.
"Oh my fucking God!" Darla exclaimed. She staredout the back window of the big sedan, watching the lights of the police carfade into the distance. Then the lights went off and she could see the cruiserpull a U-turn.
"Told ya."
"You really can do it! It's like mind control orsomething! You just say it and they do it? Like they're hypnotized?" Unconsciouslyshe had a hand between her legs, squeezing.
"Well, I guess it is a little like hypnotism, buteverybody's awake."
He could hear her heavy breathing. "So you couldtell me to do anything," she panted, "and I'd do it?"
"Yes."
"Run around naked, rob a bank, set my house onfire, fuck a dog?"
"Near as I've been able to tell." Interestingchoices , he thought.
She was silent for several long minutes. She sathalf-facing him, but in the passing lights he couldn't really make out herface. He could hear her breathing, though, which remained heavy.
"And you're a sick, twisted, son of a bitch," shesaid finally.
Mike smiled at her in the dark. "You bet your ass."
"God, I'm soaking wet," she panted.
"Is this it?"
"Yeah."
Mike studied the small single-story house throughthe windshield. It needed new siding and the detached one-car garage had definitesupport problems, but it wasn't a complete hovel. Over dinner he'd learnedshe was forty-three, twice divorced and childless, had three tattoos, and owneda seven-year-old Buick which was currently in the shop for a new transmission,which she wasn't sure she could afford.
"Want to come in?" she asked him, desperately tryingnot to sound desperate.
He sat against his door, not saying anything fora while. Finally he said, "I can have any woman I want do anything I want,and think it's her idea. And I do, a lot . But it getsold. I'm looking for someone who doesn't need me to tell them what to do. I'ma sick, twisted, perverted bastard and after almost six years of being ableto tell any woman I meet what to do, and have her do it, I've seen and doneeverything, twice. And I'm going to keep doing it, even if you're around." Hesat silent for another ten seconds. The perks she could figure out for herself. "Youinterested?"
She gave him another frenzied blowjob sitting rightthere at the curb in front of her house, gulping down his come noisily. Shesat up, her tits still hanging out of her top, and he played with them fora few minutes inside the dark car.
"I don't like a lot of makeup,' he told her, makingsure not to tell her. "And I prefer my women shaved." Hesat and looked at her for a few seconds, then reached out and roughly pinchedher nipples. She gasped and shuddered and arched her back ever so slightly. "Howwet are you?" he asked
Her hand went between her legs. She'd soaked herjeans through. "Sopping."
"Good. What time do you get off work tomorrow?"
"Five."
He found a piece of paper inside the glove boxand scribbled on it. "This is where I live," he told her. She took the paper,looked at him intently, and nodded. She grabbed her purse and climbed out ofthe Mercedes, not bothering to tuck her tits back in, then leaned back downas if to talk to him. Mike waited, then saw that she had leaned over only toshow him her bare dangling tits. She shook them from side to side gently, thenclosed the car door and walked away toward her house.
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