© Copyright 2009 by Wiseguy
Abbe put her mouth near Gabriel's ear as they danced. "How much longer?"
He took a glance at his watch and patted the small of her back. "Twenty minutes to midnight, love. Are you bored?"
"A little." She nuzzled against his neck. "I keep thinking about that nice bed back in our room, and all the interesting ways we could ring in the new year if we were alone at midnight."
"And here I thought women were all about the dancing and the glitz."
"Oh, we are. You've done very nicely with it, too, dear. I was just hoping that for our first New Year's together we might do something … a little more exciting."
"You mean like this?" He shifted his arms to hold Abbe more securely. She noted the change and had just enough time for a surprised look before hearing the magic word: "Down."
Abbe's body sagged but he held her up securely. "That's my girl," he said, dropping into that low, even tone that always made his lover melt. "Deeper down, always able to remain comfortably on your feet even as your mind lets go … that's right. Now, Abbe, listen to me very carefully ..."
A kiss on the cheek brought her back to full awareness. She shook her head and for just a moment wondered if she'd forgotten something. Then the band segued into a lively swing number and she let the feeling go.
Gabe's hand pressed gently against her back. "Shall we go back to our table?"
"I think so."
They paused to accept a slice of bruschetta each from a circulating waitress and returned to the small round table they'd claimed at the start of the party. He pointed to the disco ball above the middle of the dance floor, which had a scrolling electronic display around its middle that glowed red with the current time. "Fifteen minutes," he noted.
Abbe's gaze followed. As it fell on the numbers 11:45:00 she felt an odd sensation in the back of her mind, as if a switch had been quietly flipped on.
"Feeling okay, sweetie?"
"Why, yes," she replied, sensing the rightness of it even as she spoke. "I think that last drink must have kicked in – I'm finally feeling relaxed."
"Just relaxed, my dear? You seem to have a familiar glint in your eye."
Abbe leaned back and stretched, knowing it would draw Gabe's eye irresistibly down the plunging front of her gown. "I may be experiencing a touch of libidinousness, perhaps, but it's quite mild. Completely under control."
"Of course," Gabe agreed. "I'm sure that flush in your cheeks is just from the exertion of dancing."
"Exactly." So why, she wondered, was Gabe smiling like that? And why did her gaze keep shifting back to the clock?
"Are you sure you're okay, love?"
For just a moment she thought she heard a snicker in his voice. "Of course I am. Why do you keep asking me that?"
Gabe pointed to her empty champagne flute. "Because you've been fondling that glass in a way that's making me a teeny bit envious."
A surprised Abbe looked at her hands. Sure enough, there were uniform smudges running up and down the sides of the flute from where she'd been stroking it unconsciously. She hastily put the flute down and pushed it away from her. "Play your cards right," she teased, fighting for composure, "and maybe you can take its place."
"I'll hold you to that."
I've got something you can hold, Abbe retorted in her mind. Two things, in fact. She felt suddenly very aware of how the satiny fabric of her gown felt against her otherwise-bare nipples.
A waiter in a white jacket appeared with a champagne magnum in hand. Abbe, grateful for the excuse to shift in her seat, put a hand over her flute. "None for me, thanks."
"Come on, dear. It's bad luck to pass on the midnight toast."
She shot him a suspicious look. "You're up to something."
"I have no idea what you mean. I just want to enjoy a midnight toast with you."
She removed her hand and let the waiter fill the glass.
Abbe squeezed her thighs together. The slickness and heat in her groin as she squirmed was almost unbearable, and her nipples were clearly outlined in the red fabric that taunted them with every motion and breath. "You did something," she accused Gabe.
"What ever are you talking about, darling?"
"You know," she retorted. "I'm so horny I can't think straight. All I want to do is fuck that smug look right off your face. You slipped me a suggestion, admit it."
His reply came with a chuckle. "Well, you did seem a little bored. I just figured I'd liven things up for you. Watch the clock, honey."
Abbe watched the seconds on the clock. Each second made her clit tingle and her nipples sing. An urgent, overwhelming need to reach inside her dress took hold and as the seconds passed 40 Abbe couldn't stop fondling herself.
Gabe made no attempt to hide his enjoyment. "Do you have any idea how much I love to watch you do that?"
"I am so … going … to get you!"
His answer was lost in a haze of overpowering lust and arousal. Her hands squeezed and pressed and her hips gyrated so much that Gabe for a moment thought she might fall out of the chair.
The clock struck midnight. The crowd cheered and clapped and blew party horns. The sudden cacophony was almost loud enough to cover the ecstatic groans coming from Abbe as she shuddered her way through a mind-blowing orgasm.
As soon as she seemed recovered enough to hold it, Gabe offered her a champagne glass. "Happy new year, my love."
Brutal sunlight streamed in through the windows and stabbed at Abbe's sleepy eyes. "Owwwww!!" she protested, turning away and hiding her face under a pillow. "Bright light! Bright light!"
"Wake up, my sleepy one." Gabe pulled the sheets down to reveal her naked form. When she instinctively reached down to cover up again he grabbed the pillow and set it aside.
She looked at the clock on the night stand, then groaned loudly. "For the love of God, Gabe, why? It's only 8:30 for crying out loud."
"Because I have something hot and stiff for you to taste, love."
"I seem to recall doing that last night. More than once, in fact."
"But that didn't come with whipped cream and maple syrup."
Abbe rolled over and looked to find Gabe standing over her, nude, with a wooden serving tray in his hands. "Belgian waffle, crisp bacon, and fresh pineapple for my lady fair; ham and swiss omelet and hash browns for me. Coffee is brewing as we speak."
"Breakfast in bed? Naked? How delightfully decadent."
"My thinking exactly," he said. "But honey?"
"Would you save me some of that syrup, please?"
An hour later, Abbe and Gabe lay together in a tangle of hotel sheets in the middle of the bed. "We need to do this more often," she sighed.
"In that case," he quipped, "I'd better lay in a supply of Vitamin E. And maple syrup."
"Not that, silly. Well, actually, that too. But I was talking about the breakfast in bed part."
"I see. Well, it's New Year's Day, isn't it? Let's make a resolution."
"Arrrrrrgh!" She rolled out of bed and lurched toward the kitchenette. "Why did you have to ruin it like that?"
"Ruin it?" Gabe sat up. "That's what people do this time of year. They make resolutions."
"Yes, they do. They decide they're going to quite smoking, to work out more, to start a hobby, to meet new people … and what happens then? Nothing."
"Not always," he argued. "Remember, I make a pretty decent living out of helping people do those things."
"Exactly. They make these grand promises to themselves to be better in the new year, and by Martin Luther King day the few who haven't just blown it off entirely are looking up hypnotists in the phone book to 'make' them change."
"And they do change."
"Some of them do, yes. But tell me, Gabe: is your success rate any better in January than it is, say, in August?"
Gabe paused. "I don't know," he admitted. "Probably not. I'd have to do a lot of checking to know for sure."
"Probably not. So, if someone really wants to make a change in their life, why wait for New Year's? Why not just do it?"
"I don't know, honey. Some people just feel that impetus at the start of a new year."
"Yes," she said. "Exactly. Maybe they know they should, they just aren't sure how to start, or whatever. But because it's January 1, and that means they're supposed to, they make the fake commitment when they're not really ready to follow through on it."
Gabe nodded slowly. "Okay, say you're right. I don't know that you necessarily are, but I see your logic anyway. Is that so bad?"
Abbe poured coffee into a mug and stirred in some sweetener. "It's hypocrisy. People lying to themselves because they're pressured into it, and then hating themselves for not following through on the promise they didn't really intend to keep anyway. The whole custom of new year's resolutions sets people up to fail. I don't want us to fall into that pattern." She sipped from the mug and made a revolted face. "And this coffee is horrible!"
"It was probably better an hour ago, when it was fresh," Gabe allowed. "So what you're saying is, we shouldn't make promises we don't intend to keep?"
"Okay, then." Gabe scooted over to the edge of the bed. "Come here."
She came back to the bed and stood in front of him. They embraced and kissed for a few moments before Gabe put his hands on her face. "Here it is," he said. "I think we should make a joint promise to ourselves – and use my skill to make sure we keep it."
The seriousness in his gaze made her pause. "What promise?"
"Let's resolve to do something each month that we've never done before."
Now it was Abbe's turn to stare.
"Well?" he prodded. "What do you say, love? Let's break the pattern."
"What kind of something?"
"I don't know. It doesn't really matter, as long as it's something we do together that we've never done before. It could be as simple as having breakfast in bed, naked. Well, except we've done that now."
"And you'd use hypnosis to make sure we keep the agreement?"
"Absolutely. No broken promises for us."
"I’m sure there’s a catch in there somewhere," she said, "but okay, sure. Let's do it."
Gabe grinned and let his hands drop to her shapely rear end. "I'm glad you put it that way, my love. Down."
Abbe's face flashed surprise for just an instant before every muscle in it went loose and limp. She pitched forward onto Gabe, who skillfully caught her and maneuvered her onto her back with her legs hanging off the edge. "That's my girl," he said in his soothing hypnotic voice. "Relaxing, drifting … letting your mind wander away to the sound of my voice while you body lies loose and limp, so relaxed it's just too much trouble to move. And the more you relax, the more intensely you feel every physical sensation: the feel of the sheet beneath you … the movement of the mattress as I shift position now … my hands gently separating your legs. And how aroused can you become right now as you realize what's about to happen?"
As Gabe knelt down between her legs he took a moment to admire again her beautiful, relaxed form. Her face was completely slack except for the little muscles around her eyes and lips, which were twitching the way they always did when Abbe was aroused. Her breasts rose and fell evenly, the nipples standing up already and begging to be touched. He obliged, running his hands smoothly up her body and cupping one breast in each hand. Abbe's body responded with a hitch in her breath and a soft moan that was repeated when he rolled her nipples between his fingers.
"That's right," he said. "Let each touch send ripples of pleasure, of arousal, of desire, all through your body. The more intimately I touch you the better it feels, the more arousing it feels, the more pleasurable it feels. Especially when I do this." He punctuated this by giving both nipples a quick, firm tug that made her shudder and squeak with pleasure.
Gabe leaned over and kissed the space between her breasts. He let his torso drag as he kissed his way in a straight line down her belly, letting her feel his skin against her inner thighs and over her mound and knowing her mind would intensify that sensation for him. As his lips felt the first wisps of hair he stopped and skipped down to her right leg, lifting the leg and kissing his way from the knee up the inside of her thigh. He let his cheek brush her slit, heard and felt the slight shudder, and then jumped to the inside of her left leg, again kissing his way from the knee up her inner thigh. This time he kissed all the way to her center, letting his lips linger while his nose burrowed playfully into her trimmed thatch. Her scent made his cock stiffen and filled him with even more desire.
He ran the broad flat surface of his tongue right along her slit, bottom to top, and felt her shudder again in response. He did that a few times and then pressed his tongue harder, letting it slip between her outer lips and pick up some of her juices along the way. His tongue brushed her clit and Abbe groaned out loud, arching her back and squeezing unconsciously with her legs. Now Gabe worked seriously on her clit, nudging it around with the tip of his tongue and then taking another long tongue stroke down and up along her slit. He kept it up, feeling his lover's body respond with stronger and stronger rocks and moans and panting breaths, until he sensed she was close. He took one more stroke of the tongue, then closed his lips around her clit as closely as he could and sucked gently to send her over the edge.
Abbe came wildly. Her hands grabbed her breasts and her hips bucked up and down while her legs held Gabe in a head lock. He flicked his tongue against her clit while she came, keeping her in ecstasy until her body just couldn't continue.
For a minute or two they remained still, Abbe on her back catching her breath, Gabe on his knees between her legs with his face resting on her mound. Then he began kissing her again on the inside of the thigh. She groaned a little, confirming that his touch was still being intensified by her mind. So he kept kissing along the line where her leg met her body, across her mound, down the other thigh, up her slit. Too blissed out to do more than moan and squirm, Abbe raised no objections even as her body again felt itself in the grip of increasing arousal.
Gabe took another long whiff of her scent and reached down for his cock. It was already hard; a few strokes of his own hand with her scent in his nostrils was enough to get it fully erect and ready. He stood bent over Abbe so that he could lay his hard-on along her slit and worked it up and down, letting her feel it against her outer lips. "Oh, god, yes," she moaned. "Do it, please."
He backed up a tiny bit and pressed the head against her slit, pushing it in enough to pick up moisture from her as he worked it up and down. Each movement made Abbe squirm and moan and press herself upward as if to grab his cock and envelop it herself. When he could stand the teasing of his sensitive glans no more he lifted her hips, lined himself up, and slipped his well-lubed shaft inside her.
Abbe squealed at the sensation of him entering her. Her legs hooked around him and pulled him tighter, almost pulling him over in their zeal to get him deeper. They ground together, thrusting and flexing, harder and faster, until Gabe knew he wouldn't last much longer. He reached up to her chest and pulled the nipples again. "Come now!"
She did, shuddering and squeezing him again with her legs as she cried out with each breath. Seeing her face and hearing his favorite sound – Abbe's voice in the throes – was more than enough to push him into orgasm as well. He held on, pumping and thrusting, until he felt his knees go weak and Abbe's grip loosen. What muscle strength he had left Gabe used to climb onto the bed and fold her into his arms.
It was several minutes before Abbe spoke. "We've done that before."
He grinned. "True. But some things bear repeating."
She managed a tired but glowing smile. "Oh, yes."
The Christmas tree had been stripped and disposed of, the ornaments packed again in their chest for next year, before Abbe raised the subject of their joint resolution again. "I have some qualms about this," she said, watching Gabe poke at the fire in the fireplace.
He put the poker away and sat with her. "What qualms?"
"I know you can’t make me do anything I really don’t want to do, even with trance. But sometimes, well, it surprises me a little what how far you can take me. I’m not so sure where my limits are sometimes."
He kissed her hand and squeezed it. "They’re further out than mine, love, I can assure you of that."
"That’s what I’m afraid of. We should set some ground rules for this before it gets started."
Gabe considered. "All right. Why don’t we start by agreeing that the ground rules we use for play apply to the resolutions?"
"That covers the basics," she agreed. "So nothing we do for the resolution can be illegal, intentionally humiliating, or physically dangerous. And I can use my safe words if I feel uncomfortable enough with a suggestion. That’s all good, honey. But I’d still like to have an idea of what I’ve agreed to."
"To tell the truth, love, I don’t know yet myself. I figured we’d take turns coming up with ideas on what to do each month."
"So whatever idea you have for a given month, you’ll tell me and then compel me to go along?" The word compel prompted a pleasantly warm feeling in her loins even as she said it.
"Pretty much. I reserve the right to surprise you now and then, of course."
"That’s what I’m nervous about," she confessed. "I mean, I trust you, Gabe. You’ve never made me feel abused, and I think you can count on one hand the number of times I’ve safe-worded with you. But this just feels like something that’s going to push our boundaries a lot, and you’ve already said that even you don’t know where this is going to go exactly."
"So you’d like a little extra reassurance, honey?"
"Something like that."
"Well," he suggested after a few moment’s thought, "suppose we give each other one no-questions-asked veto for the year? If you don’t like an idea I propose, you can shoot it down with no explanation required before we even get started. Once you’ve used your veto, though, it’s gone – that should make us think carefully before we do."
"Us? You mean, I’ll be making proposals too?"
"Absolutely. I did say we’d take turns, after all. I want to make sure you get your say in what we do."
"Even though I can’t compel you to go along with it," she pointed out. "That’s a little uneven, don’t you think?"
Gabe grinned, got up, and walked over to the bookcase. "It’s funny you should say that, my dear, because it leads neatly into my idea for January." He selected a paperback from the shelf of hypnosis texts and handed it to her.
"The Art of Hypnosis, by Roy Hunter," she read. "You want me to ... ?"
"Yes, my love. It’s something we’ve never done before, and it’ll set the stage for you to take turns with me in the game."
"But I don’t know the first thing about hypnotizing people."
"You know more than you think," he assured her. "A lot of what you’ll read in here will seem very familiar because of your experience on the receiving end. Now you’ll understand why some of the things I do with you work and how they work. Once you’ve read this, you’ll be ready for this month’s first."
She stared at the book as if it might possibly bite her. Gabe noted the fear in her face and put a hand on the back of her neck. "Abbe, down." She dropped immediately, letting the book fall into her lap as her body flopped back against the couch. "That’s my girl," he continued. "Deeper down, love. Just let go for me, all the way down. ... That’s right. ...
"You know how much you enjoy being hypnotized by me. It feels so good, doesn’t it? And it feels good for me, also, to see you letting go for me, dropping into trance for me, letting my suggestions soak into your mind until you simply obey. I would have you experience that thrill, love. You have such a creative mind that I know you can learn to do for me what I so love to do for you. It’s also important to me that you believe in yourself, and that you take our New Year’s resolution as seriously as I do. For my turn, to open the game, our resolution is that you will learn to hypnotize me.
"When I count to three, my love, you come out of trance feeling refreshed and energized, happy, content, and eager to study the book I gave you so that you can learn to be my beautiful, sexy hypnotist. You may even imagine yourself putting me into trance and allow that to become one of your sexiest fantasies so that it inspires you to learn well and to be creative and imaginative with your suggestions. One, two, three."
Her eyes fluttered open and found him watching her. "I guess it’s started, then. Our resolution."
He grinned. "Oh, yes."
Abbe hefted the book in her hands. As she examined the cover, she imagined herself lying in bed with Gabe, stroking his cheek and speaking soft, commanding words as she watched his eyes grow heavy and unfocused. That warm feeling surged again between her legs.
"Give me a week to study this," she said.
Abbe read the book three times over the course of ten days before she felt confident enough to attempt her first induction of Gabe. "Relax," he told her. "Let your instincts guide you. You’ll be surprised at how good they are. And remember, there’s nobody easier to hypnotize than a hypnotist."
She let out a nervous chuckle. "We’ll find out, won’t we?"
Gabe arranged himself comfortably on the sofa and gave her the thumbs-up sign. Abbe pulled an ottoman next to the sofa and sat facing him so she could watch him easily. "Close your eyes and relax," she said, fully aware of the nervousness in her voice. Once his eyes were closed she felt a little less intimidated. She opened the book to the chapter on inductions and flipped to the progressive relaxation script. I won’t get any creativity points for this, she mused, but at least it’s tried and true.
She read the script mostly verbatim from the book, doing her best to keep her voice soft and soothing. Every paragraph or so she looked up from the text to see how well it was working, but it was hard to tell. Gabe lay still and quiet, breathing slowly and evenly, but was he hypnotized or had he gotten bored to sleep? She thought back to her first session with him.
"Now, honey," she said, leaning forward, "I want you to imagine some things for me. Make them as vivid in your mind as you can and just let your body do whatever it chooses to do. First, imagine that I tie a string loosely around this wrist." She lightly tapped his right wrist. "On the other end of that string I’m attaching a big, round, colorful helium balloon. Imagine how it looks as it rises up on the string, until the string becomes taut and tugs on your wrist. Notice the balloon’s color, its texture, its shape. And notice how the balloon gets larger and larger, filling with more and more helium, tugging more and more on your wrist, pulling upward, lifting upward."
To Abbe’s complete surprise, Gabe’s arm began to bend at the elbow. The forearm rose, hand sagging, as if being pulled up by the wrist. "That’s right. Lifting, tugging, pulling. And you might even notice that as the balloon gets lighter and lighter, pulling more and more insistently on your arm, your arm begins to rise up. As your arm rises you feel an amazing, wonderful, euphoric sort of feeling wash over you. The higher your arm rises, the more bliss and joy you feel and the more the balloon tugs at your arm. Higher and higher, happier and happier, feeling so amazingly peaceful and happy now ... that’s right."
On the couch, Gabe heard her begin the progressive relaxation and sighed to himself. He’d hoped she’d choose something a little more imaginative for her first induction. Still, he resolved to let go of the thought and do his best to help her succeed at this first trance. He went through the steps with her, relaxing body parts, concentrating on making each part loose and limp ... and then felt a warm, enveloping rush of pleasant, blissful feelings flood through him from head to toe. He heard Abbe’s voice and dimly realized his arm was rising toward the ceiling, carried aloft by a huge red balloon. Cool, he thought, but he felt too damned good to process any more than that.
Abbe watched his arm rise with that slow, incremental motion that he’d taught her was a hallmark of subconscious action and felt a rush of triumph – it was working! And then just as suddenly the feeling of power subsided, leaving a chill in its wake. What the hell do I do now?
She remembered something Gabe had admitted to her once: "Sometimes I do deepeners with you even though you don’t need it, just because it gives me time to think." And she remembered one he had used with her in conjunction with the balloon test.
Her confidence rebounding, she set the book aside and addressed her lover. His arm was almost vertical except for the slack hand at the end. "Now, Gabe, as you watch that beautiful balloon, just imagine that it develops a very slow, gentle leak. As the helium leaks out the balloon gets smaller, its lift gets weaker, and you can go deeper and deeper into trance." His arm began to move. "That’s right, love. Allow the balloon to gently lower your arm all the way down only as quickly as you can go so deep, so wonderfully deep in trance, that your mind will accept and follow my every suggestion easily, naturally, and automatically."
There was something familiar in her words as they entered Gabe’s mind. Somewhere deep in the fog he remembered himself giving Abbe the exact same suggestions, in exactly those words. Before he could think any more about it, though, the fog grew thicker and thinking was just too difficult. It was easier to just ...
"... let go completely," she finished for him. "Yes, so deep, so delightfully relaxed, that your mind can stay as blank as a new sheet of paper. You can allow my words to become your thoughts, writing themselves into your mind and becoming a permanent part of who you are."
Abbe paused again to examine the results of her work. Gabe’s body lay perfectly still. His arm was all the way down. She lifted it a few inches, felt the weight of it, and watched it flop when she let it go. His face looked almost totally slack except for the eyes, where the lids quivered and twitched with the movement of his eyes beneath them. That happened to her, too, she realized, and had to be a good sign. Her eyes traveled down his body, noticing the slow rise and fall of his chest, the loose, limp posture of his legs. Then her eyes fell on the telltale bulge in the front of his pants.
Her hand started to reach for it but she stopped short. That might wake him, and she hadn’t given him any real suggestions yet. She should do something. A trigger, at least. Like the one he used to drop her at will.
"Gabe," she said, "I want you to mark this state in your mind. Notice how deep you are, how easily and automatically you accept and obey my every suggestion. That’s it. From now on, my love, every time I look at you and say ‘drop’ you automatically relax and sink right back into trance, just as deep as you are now, and then deeper. Only when I say ‘drop’ to you, and only when I say the word ‘drop’ to you by itself, do you immediately let go into deep trance for me, just as you are now, or deeper. If anyone else says ‘drop’, or if I say ‘drop’ as part of a longer sentence, it will just be a word. Each and every time I use the word ‘drop’ to put you back into hypnosis you go deeper, faster, more easily, without even thinking, without even realizing that I’ve put you into trance. When you’ve fully accepted this suggestion, when it’s a permanent and automatic part of your mind and behavior, I want you to nod for me."
The nod came quickly and was accompanied by a smile.
"Good. When I count to three, you can come completely out of hypnosis feeling refreshed, alert, and rested." On an impulse she also added one more suggestion. "Your conscious mind completely forgets everything that we did in trance until I tell you to remember. The more you try to remember, until I tell you that you can, the more you remember only that you can not remember."
She counted three and watched as Gabe slowly opened his eyes. "Are we back?" she asked, struggling to contain her excitement.
His brow wrinkled and he shook his head slightly. "We’re not sure," he said. "I seem to remember ... that I can’t remember anything. From the way you’re squirming, I’d say we’ve been down the rabbit hole and back."
"We have. And I know of at least one part of you that definitely enjoyed it."
His hand went to his crotch, but the hard-on had subsided. "It’s got a mind of its own," he told her. "Don’t read too much into it."
A grin came over her face. "I see," she said. "So I suppose you wouldn’t find it even remotely arousing if I were to say, ‘Drop’."
He blinked and sat up. "Ummmm ... nope. Should I?"
For a half second Abbe’s chest fell, but then she realized her own mistake. "Drop."
Gabe’s eyes slammed shut and he flopped back against the back of the couch. His arms hung loosely at his sides and his breath came slow and easy. "Good," she said. "Dropping so easily, so deeply, so naturally into trance for me. Very good. And now, you can come all the way back on three: one, two, three."
His eyes opened again. "I see," he said, sitting forward again and lifting his arms. "Somebody figured out how to do an instant induction trigger." His brow furrowed again momentarily. "And an amnesia suggestion. Well done, honey."
She grinned at him again. "Drop."
This time after he flopped again she did put a hand on his groin. Another hard-on was beginning to form. Abbe felt an erotic power rush at her new ability.
Gabe stirred again at her next three-count. "Fractionation," he said. "Did you realize that dropping me again and again reinforces the trigger?"
"Does it?" she asked, moving to the couch next to him. "I was just doing it because it’s a rush."
"It is, isn’t it?" he admitted. "I never get tired of watching your face when--"
Yes, she agreed inwardly, aware of the growing warmth between her legs, it is a rush. And from the rising bulge in his pants Abbe wasn’t the only one getting turned on by the triggering. Her hand reached for him again, and then an idea struck her. She opened his zipper and reached inside, gently parting the flap in his shorts to expose his hardening cock.
She closed her hand around him and listened to him moan in response. "That’s right," she said, "you love it when I touch your cock. You love to feel my hand on it, whether I’m stroking you or just holding you. And from now on, Gabe, any time I have my hand on your cock your mind opens to me just as it is now. Everything I say to you while my hand is touching your cock, whether I’m touching you directly or through your clothes, is a hypnotic suggestion that your subconscious mind automatically accepts and obeys. Your conscious mind never remembers these suggestions, or even realizes that my touching your cock has any affect on your mind other than the arousal it causes, but your subconscious always completely accepts and obeys anything I say to you while my hand is touching your cock. And when you’ve accepted this suggestion fully and made it a permanent part of your mind and behavior, I want you to nod for me."
His nod came quickly. Abbe smiled and gave his cock a squeeze before slipping it back inside and zipping his pants. "Good. I think you’re going to enjoy this as much as I will."
Gabe stirred at the next three count. " ... when I trigger you," he completed. "But I guess you knew that."
"I’m getting a feel for it," she replied with a sly look. Then she reached for his groin and cupped his still-hard cock through his pants. His face went blank, which made her thighs clench together. "Strip naked for me, here and now. Your conscious mind has no idea that a hypnotic suggestion is making you do it."
As soon as she let go the blank look left his face. It was replaced by another puzzled expression. "Umm, honey? Would you mind if I took my clothes off?"
She feigned surprise. "Why?"
"I don’t know," he admitted, already pulling at his shirt. "I just ... really want to do it."
She sat back and gestured toward the floor in front of her. "Then be my guest, love."
He stood up and stripped, the puzzled expression never quite leaving his face. Abbe watched as he removed his shirt and undershirt, then unzipped his pants and let them fall. He stepped out of those and slipped off the boxers, too. His socks joined the pile last, and he stood before her naked. His hard cock pointed straight out at her.
"Is there something you’d like to do, darling?" she asked in mock innocence.
Gabe scratched his head. "Well, I am kinda turned on," he conceded. "Aw, who am I kidding? I’m horny as hell!"
She reached up and fondled his hard-on, watching the blank look come over him again. "Then bend me over this couch and fuck me, lover."
As she let go of his cock Gabe’s blank look transformed into one of intense lust. He bent over Abbe and took her hands in his, stretching them up over her head. His lips found hers and pressed them in a series of hard, frantic kisses. The strength of his response startled her a little – this roughness was not his normal style at all – but she also had to admit it was incredibly hot. She felt herself growing wet with anticipation as his hands peeled off her shirt and groped at her breasts. He tweaked her nipples and squeezed her breasts and all she could do about it was hold on to the couch and moan through the rapid-fire kisses.
His hands gripped her hips and twisted her around sharply. Here it comes, she squealed to herself. He yanked her jeans down without even bothering to unbutton them. Her panties came down most of the way, too, so it was easy for him to slide them down to her knees with the jeans. His fingers probed her slit and found it more than ready for him. Abbe grabbed the top of the couch and let him position her hips where he wanted them, taking a deep breath and waiting for him to enter her. He did, quickly and easily because she was so wet, and the fury of that first thrust made her knees weaken and her thighs quiver. He kept thrusting, his hands gripping her hips and working her back and forth in rhythm to his thrusts. Half a minute, maybe a touch more, and she felt him thrust in as far as he could and hold her there, clenching, as his cock jerked and pulsed inside her. She reached down for her clit and frigged it, knowing he’d be done very soon, and squeezed down on him with her inner muscles as if to hold him in place.
His gasps came slower and softer and then the hardness of him began to subside. "No," she cried, "not yet!" His hands quickly shifted from her hips to her breasts, twisting and rolling her nipples again, and he resumed thrusting his cock in and out. She felt the change, focused on the new sensations throughout her body, and with a few more deft movements of her finger brought herself to orgasm.
Gabe held on until her gasps faded into sighs and then collapsed onto the ottoman, propping himself up by the arms. "Holy fucking shit was that hot!"
Abbe turned around and slid into a sitting position, deftly tucking her shirt underneath her to protect the couch. "I’ll say. You were an animal."
"Are you okay, honey? Was I too rough?"
"I’m fine, and absolutely not. Did you enjoy that, darling?"
He was still gasping for breath. "Holy fucking hell, Abbe. I haven’t come that hard in ages. It may be twenty minutes before I dare try to use my legs for anything. You bet I enjoyed it. I just don’t know what got into me."
"I think I can help with that, love." She reached out for his spent cock. "You may now remember every hypnotic suggestion I’ve given you today."
When she let go his eyes bulged for a moment as he processed the uncovered memories. "Jesus H. Christ. I’ve created a monster, haven’t I?"
"That’s entirely possible," she replied with a sly smile.
Gabe stepped out of the bathroom to find Abbe waiting for him. "Surprise!"
He looked her over carefully: black cocktail dress clinging in all the right places, strappy heels, and in her outstretched hand a shiny gift bag tied in a bow. "You're dressed already," he joked. "That really is a surprise."
"Brave talk for a guy whose vital spots are fully exposed," she countered. "Now open this, please."
"Before I even get dressed?"
"Yes, honey. You'll understand in a minute."
He tugged at the bow until it came undone and reached inside. His fingers closed on something incredibly smooth and slippery. "Oooooh … are you going to model this for me?"
She laughed. "You'd find that profoundly unsatisfying."
Puzzled, he pulled the item out of the bag for a closer look and found a pair of men's boxers in black silk. "For me?"
"Unless you'd rather I give them to my uncle Joe, sweetheart."
He shuddered comically. "I don't think the old guy's heart could take the strain."
"Neither do I," she said. "Besides, I want you wearing those for our romantic Valentine's Day dinner."
Gabe slipped into the boxers and posed for Abbe. "What do you think?"
She put both hands on his ass and stroked him through the silk, causing the fabric to slide back and forth across his front. "I think I'm going to enjoy getting you out of these later. And I think you'd better hurry up and finish dressing or we'll lose our table."
The dinner Gabe had arranged for them started with an appetizer of bouranee baunnjaun, a fried eggplant dish served with yogurt and Afghan bread. The entree was spicy chunks of lamb served with raisins and glazed carrot on a bed of pallow with generous sides of spinach and pumpin. They ate with relish, savoring the fiery sensation of the spices in their mouths followed by the sweetness of a variety of Middle Eastern pastries for dessert. Gabe asked for the check while Abbe used the bathroom and paid it before she could see the price.
Between the spicy food and the excellent wine they both had a pleasantly flushed look about them when the taxi deposited them at home. "I have something else for you," Abbe said teasingly. "And this time I will model it if you ask nicely."
Gabe leered and winked as he turned the key in the door. "I have something else for you, too, my dear. I hope you're not completely stuffed just yet."
"If it's what I think it is," she replied, squeezing his butt, "I'll find room."
Once inside and free of their coats Abbe took hold of his belt and led him straight to the bedroom. She sat him down on the edge of the bed, picked up a second gift bag from its hiding place behind the night stand, and headed for the bathroom. "Don't go away," she warned him. "This won't take but a minute."
He did get up long enough to loosen his tie and retrieve a small box, wrapped in gold foil and a bright red bow, from beneath his workout clothes in the closet. He waited with eager anticipation to see what she would come out wearing, if anything.
True to her word, Abbe emerged from the bathroom just a minute or two later and Gabe's heart stopped for a second. She had changed into a sheer black babydoll, the front of which was open and loosely connected with tiny spaghetti ties. A matching silk thong completed the outfit and provided the only real concealment of anything. He felt the silk boxers caressing his cock as it began to grow automatically at the sight of her.
She twirled and posed a few times before noticing the box in his hand. "Is this for me?"
"It is indeed, my love. Please."
She took the box from him and opened it slowly, enjoying the way his eyes kept wandering over her body. The foil came away to reveal a simple gold box bearing the name of a well-known gourmet chocolatier. "Oh, my," she said. "Trying to seduce me with sweets, are you?"
"Something like that."
Lifting the lid and removing the inside cover, she discovered an assortment of gourmet truffles with varying coatings and flavors. She licked her lips, lifted one and held it aloft. "Gabe, my darling, you may have just derailed our plans a bit. Never ask me to choose between sex and really good chocolate."
"Why choose? Have one."
Abbe gave him a steamy look. "Well, since you put it that way." She set the box down on the night stand, eyed the one truffle in her hand, and brought it to her mouth. Her lips closed around it slowly, sensuously, deliberately, as if it were the tip of a chocolate hard-on. With one finger she slowly pushed it all the way into her mouth, letting her lips close around the finger and drawing it out slowly. As the flavor of dark chocolate flooded her mouth she let out an involuntary moan.
"Enjoying yourself, dear?"
His tone, along with the smirk on his face, set off an alarm in Abbe's mind, but it was too late. The chocolate rushed down her throat and instantly her body was flooded with overwhelming heat. She moaned again as her legs squeezed together and her hands went inevitably to her breasts. A few squeezes and her nipples were poking straight out into the sheer mesh babydoll. The erotic energy crackled between them with each caress of her hands, and despite how little an obstacle it actually was in just moments the babydoll was falling to the floor.
Abbe's fingers closed around her nipples, twisting and rolling and tugging while her breathing grew rapid and rough and a rosy glow crept into her skin from neck to navel. That Gabe was watching, enjoying the show she couldn't help but put on, only made the arousal stronger and more impossible to resist. One hand slipped down inside the thong and felt for her clit, and on first contact her knees buckled. She slid to the floor, sitting up with her back against the night stand, her legs opening wide and giving her plenty of room to stroke, to caress, to probe and explore. But the thong, stretchy and insubstantial as it may be, was in the way – it had to go. She peeled it down one leg at a time, unable to let go of her breast with the other hand even long enough to help. She wiggled and twisted and flopped over in the process, rolling around to end up on her back at Gabe's feet, one hand pawing at her center while the other toyed with her nipples.
Every time she looked up and saw the intense enjoyment on his face it turned her on even more. Her hips flexed and her back arched as her fingers stretched and hooked inside herself, probing for that pleasure button on the inside and finding it. A series of sharp, loud moans punctuated the rhythmic thrusts, growing louder and louder as the arousal, the desire, the need to come, fed on itself. She felt the charge building between her legs, gathering her body's energies in one place, stronger, hotter, faster …
The orgasm came crashing through her in wave after wave, starting in her center and flowing outward. Her breath came in hard gasps and every muscle in her legs and back clenched hard with each one, lifting her hips into the air and letting them down again as she cried out in pleasure.
Gabe relished the vision of her writhing through her climax and the sound of her gasping cries. When she finally relaxed into post-orgasmic bliss he continued to sit watching, waiting.
In time Abbe recovered enough to speak. "Is this purely a spectator sport, sweetie, or do you plan on tagging in at some point?"
"Thought you'd never ask." He stood and dropped his boxers, revealing a cock already fully erect and ready. Abbe was still recovering, so she offered no resistance as he knelt between her legs and began stroking the skin on the inside of her thighs in ways that made her pulse quicken again immediately. He slipped a finger or two into her slit and made sure she was still plenty wet, then lifted her hips and positioned himself. She moaned as he slid home and flexed her lower back to line him up just right inside her. She felt him thrusting and met his rhythm, panting and moaning and squeezing him with her inner muscles until his body took over and his orgasm became first likely, then imperative, then unstoppable.
It took them half an hour to find the strength to climb into bed.
The next morning Gabe again stepped out of the bathroom from a shower to find Abbe waiting for him. "This is in danger of becoming a trend, honey."
She toyed with the tie on her babydoll, knowing he was looking right through it despite himself, and smiled inwardly. "What can I say? I get my best ideas while you’re in the shower."
"Should I get the boxers?"
"I don’t think so. For what I have in mind you’re already dressed perfectly."
He stepped forward and fondled one of her breasts. "I like the sound of this."
She enjoyed his touch for a few moments and returned it with her hands on his rear. Then, before things got too far, she slid a hand around and took hold of his cock. The fondling stopped and his face took on the familiar blank look. "Go sit back on your side of the bed, sweetheart, and wait for me to tell you my idea."
"I ..." With confusion on his face he let go of her, walked around the bed, and got in. He stacked up an extra pillow and sat semi-upright.
"Perfect," she told him. She deliberately wiggled her ass at him as she bent down to get something from the night stand drawer and hid it behind her back when the turned to face him, kneeling at his side. "Now, let me tell you my idea."
"Last night,while I was in the hypno-chocolate-induced throes, I couldn’t help but notice that you seemed to be enjoying the show quite a bit."
"Well," he admitted, "I do love to watch you like that."
"Yes, you’ve said that before. Which makes it all the more interesting, you see, because I realized something last night. You’ve watched me jill off more often than I can even guess at ... but not once in all this time have I seen you do the same. Why is that?"
He shrugged. "Circumstances, I’d say. If you’re nearby, honey, I’d much rather channel my carnal desires in your direction."
"I see." She made a slow, deliberate show of untying the front of her babydoll. "Are you feeling any of that carnal desire now?"
He was openly staring at her body with a hungry leer. "Why yes, now that you mention it."
"Wouldn’t you like to stroke yourself off while you look at my body, love?"
"I’d rather bury myself in your nethers until we both collapse."
"I see," she said. "Do you want that enough to use up your veto?"
That surprised him enough to make eye contact for the first time since sitting on the bed. "This is your idea?"
She nodded. "I want to watch you make yourself come for me. I want to make you make yourself come for me." She hovered her hand over his crotch. "Last chance to object, love."
Gabe was less than enthused about the prospect; for him, masturbating had always been something a guy does when his lover isn't around. But reading the anticipation in her face and seeing the signs of desire there told him that refusing was not really an option. "If it's what you want, honey, no objections."
Her hand dropped and closed around his soft member. "When I let go of you, you'll feel an overpowering, irresistible need to masturbate for me. The more you look at me and the more you touch yourself the stronger the impulse becomes. You will know that I'm compelling you to do it, that you have no choice but to make yourself come for me, and it will be as arousing for you as it is when you watch me uncontrollably finger myself. You'll hold your orgasm as long as you can but you must keep masturbating until you've come."
Gabe felt his mind clear momentarily. Then the suggestions took hold and he felt his right arm move as if by remote control. It started with a few broad strokes across his balls and then quickly switched to upward motions around his cock. He tugged and squeezed but the dry skin of his hand wasn't nearly as pleasant a sensation as Abbe's warm mouth. "This may take a while."
"You underestimate yourself, my love," she replied. "All you need is a little lubrication." From behind her back she produced a bottle of silicone-based lube, popped the top, and drizzled a generous amount into his moving fist. His up and down motions quickly spread it all over his cock and hand. Then she wiped her finger on him, getting some of the lube on her finger tips. "And perhaps a bit of inspiration." She shrugged off the babydoll and applied the lubed fingertips to her nipple, pinching and rolling it and letting the enjoyment of the sensation show on her face.
Gabe stared at Abbe's body and imagined himself caressing every delectable inch of it. The lube made his hand so slick that if he gripped himself just right it felt very much as if he was inside of her already. He felt his cock thickening and hardening in his hand, responding to her suggestions and to the pressure and movement of his hand.
She watched his hand, fascinated to see the way he pleasured himself. As his cock grew stiffer and longer she felt herself getting warm and wet. "That's right," she said. "How good does it feel, stroking yourself like that, knowing that I'm making you do it? Can you tell how it's affecting me, darling? How much it's arousing me?"
He was fully erect now. Between her suggestions, her talk, and the way she kept idly playing with her nipple, Gabe felt himself becoming intensely aroused. His hand squeezed harder, adding a little extra pressure, and he couldn't help but let out a moan.
Abbe heard the moan and pinched down hard on her nipple in response. With an effort she disengaged her eyes from his cock and saw his face. The way he was shaking it back and forth, squinting and moaning, sent a fresh heat plume through her. Before she even realized it she’d reached inside her thong and started to finger herself.
He saw that move through barely-open lids and followed her hand all the way down. His hand worked up and down on his own shaft, slick and tight, and a sudden sense of pressure sent the warning that an orgasm was imminent. He stopped pumping and squeezed, trying to hold back, but his arm insisted on going back into motion almost right away. He fought the compulsion to keep stroking and failed. The pressure kept building and building even as he bit his lip and strained to hold it in.
Soon there was no holding back any longer. With a loud, sustained groan he felt himself give in. His shaft pulsed in his hand and warm goo gushed over him. Abbe watched transfixed as he pumped himself dry and flopped back onto the bed, spent, and felt her own need rise to the point where it had to be satisfied. She swung a leg over his and ground herself into his thigh. His firm leg muscle was exactly what she wanted – she rocked and humped and felt the pressure across her center until the dam burst and she came, moaning and writhing on his leg.
As her climax ended she looked down and saw the blissed-out smile on her lover's face. "Did you like that?"
He met her gaze slowly. "I think I did, yes. More than I thought I would. Did you?"
"You know what? I did. I was never really sure before what you liked so much about watching me. But now I get it. Looking at your face, knowing that I could bring you so much pleasure without even touching you … I could get hooked on that."
An absent-minded hand stroked across his lower belly, which was covered in excess lube and semen. Gabe felt the gesture and looked sheepish. "One problem: You're a lot neater than I am."
"Don't move, honey," she chuckled. "I'll get you a towel."
On the television, a man and a woman in bathing suits sat on the beach talking. "Erin," the young man was explaining, "I thought we were starting to build something special, something close and intimate that was just ours. And now I find out that there are naked pictures of you on a website for millions of guys to gawk at while they … never mind. I'm not sure I can look past that."
"Then you're an idiot," Gabe sneered at the guy.
On the screen, Erin was sobbing. "I'm sorry, Max. I would never do anything to hurt you. You're exactly the kind of guy I've always dreamed of being with, settling down with, starting a family with."
Now it was Abbe's turn to snort. "Too bad you didn't think of that when you were dropping your drawers for a nudie website."
Gabe reached for the remote and hit Pause. "Wait a second, Abbe. Are you actually on his side on this?"
"I can see where he's coming from, at least," she replied. "He's an old-fashioned guy, kind of a Momma's boy, who wants a similar kind of girl – a sweet, old-fashioned girl-next-door. Someone who shares his values."
"But who is desperate enough to go on a reality TV show and compete with 30 other women for a handful of guys? That doesn't sound too old-fashioned to me."
"True. But even that's a long way from doing nude photo shoots."
"She's a model," he pointed out. "Show me one who isn't naked somewhere on the Internet. It's almost an occupational requirement."
"I don't know enough to argue on that, dear. And I don't have anything against nude modeling, if that's what she wants to do. But old-fashioned guys are funny about that -- a woman who wants to attract one needs to be more circumspect about when, where, and under what circumstances she appears naked."
"You're assuming she had a choice."
"Of course she did. Sometimes there are no desirable ones, but there's always a choice."
Abbe had just enough time to recognize the mischievous look in his eye before her world spun around for a moment in a flash of dizziness. Something had changed and it took her only a second to realize what. "Gabe, you adorable deve, where are my clothes?"
He grinned. "Really, my love, I think you should be a bit more circumspect about when, where, and under what circumstances you appear naked." Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, pointing the tiny camera lens at her naked form. "Say 'cheese'."
Her body refused to move until she heard the camera click. "Oh, no, you don't." She covered the lens with her palm, gently pushing his arm aside, and reached for his crotch. She felt his semi-erect cock and gripped it. "Strip off all of your clothes, take me to bed, and fuck me right away. The more you try to delay or do anything else the more urgently you need to obey this command."
The phone fell out of his hand as Gabe groaned and began pulling at his shirt. "I need to start wearing a cup around you."
Abbe picked up the phone and pointed it at him. "Nonsense, my darling. You love this as much as I do." The moment his pants and boxers hit the floor she snapped a photo. "Gotcha!"
"No," he corrected her, "I've got you!" He scooped her up off the couch and slung her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She held on to the phone with one hand and squeezed his bottom with the other as he carried her to the bedroom.
He flopped her onto the bed on her back and quickly covered her with his body, holding her arms down as he kissed her hungrily. She let the phone go and squirmed a little, playing at resisting, while returning his kisses. He began to work his way down her neck, across the collarbone, and down to the valley between her breasts. He moved to her right first, kissing his way up the inside of her breast until he found the already-hard nipple, then paused to play with it with his tongue. She moaned automatically at the pleasure of it, and again in anticipation as he kissed his way across to her left nipple to do the same.
He wanted to go down on her, to tease her until she begged him to let her come, but his body had an urgent need to obey orders. He let go of one arm and slipped a finger inside her slit, finding the moisture there and spreading it around. She was ready, all right. Knowing that, his body moved almost on its own to line her up with his hard shaft and slide it inside her.
Abbe gasped at the sensation of him filling her, so hard, so insistent. She squeezed down on him, slowing down his thrusts but at the same time making each one exquisitely tight and firm. Every stroke hit her in just the right way, pushing that button inside her body that never failed to drive her over the edge. Another thrust, then another, and her entire body clenched at the onset of a hard orgasm. Gabe held on as long as he could, enjoying the sounds and the feeling of his lover in bliss, then heard himself crying out in pleasure as he came inside her. He held on until his body had no strength left, then flopped down beside her in exhausted satisfaction.
A long time later, Abbe groped for the phone and found it. She flipped it open, brought up the photo album, and erased the pictures of herself and Gabe. "Why'd you do that?" he groaned. "I wanted to keep yours."
"If I've learned one thing from reality television," she joked, "it's never to let a naked picture of me out of my control."
"It's March," Gabe announced a few days later. "You know what that means, don't you?"
Abbe smiled innocently. "In like a lion, out like a lamb?"
"Well, yes. But that wasn't exactly what I had in mind."
"Then you must be referring to our resolution," she said. "Does this mean you have an idea already?"
"It does. I'd like you to keep this Sunday afternoon open from two o'clock on."
"For what, may I ask?"
He grinned. "I've made an appointment for you, my love. With a photographer."
Her stomach fluttered and bounced as she made the connection. "A photographer?" she said, stalling for time to prepare for what her mind told her was coming. "What ever shall I wear?"
"I wouldn't worry about that," he replied with a wink.
Sunday afternoon found them in the car driving into the city. "It's not too late to back out," Gabe reminded her. "You still have your veto."
"Don't think I haven't considered it," she replied, "but no. I'll keep that in reserve, thank you."
"Your face is flushed, my dear. I think you're looking forward to this more than you want to admit."
Abbe felt the heat rising in her cheeks and the accompanying tingle in her loins at the thought of baring all – more, of being compelled to bear all – for the camera. "I have no idea what you're talking about, love."
"Of course not. I'm sure I'm mistaken."
They parked in a public garage and walked two blocks to a 3-story loft building labeled Price Studios. The door was locked, but a press of the button near it summoned a busty brunette who let them in. "It's good to meet you both," she said, locking the door again behind them. "I'm Jen. David is upstairs readying the set. Would you come up with me, please?"
They followed her to the second floor and into a large dressing room. "White or red, Abbe?" Jen asked.
Their hostess pointed to a wine keeper in the corner. "Wine, Abbe. Do you prefer white or red?"
"Red, I guess."
"Good. I have a nice merlot that I think you'll enjoy." She poured a generous glass and handed it to Abbe.
Abbe hesitated, but under Jen's gaze she melted and took a tentative sip. "That is good," she agreed, and gulped a bit more before setting the glass aside.
"I like it too," Jen said. "Drink up – it'll help relax you. Trust me."
"I think I can help with that," Gabe volunteered. He stepped up to Abbe, put his arms around her from behind, and said "down." He held her as her body slumped against him and whispered into her ear. "Abbe, my love," he said softly, "I want you to know that in my eyes you are the sexiest woman alive. When I count to three you will come out of trance feeling absolutely confident, sexy, and completely at ease with your body. All of your inhibitions will fall away for now. You love the idea of being photographed in sexy, provocative poses for me, and with every picture that gets taken you find yourself feeling more aroused, more confident, more eager to show me how irresistibly sexy you can be. Deep down you'll know that I'm compelling you to feel this way, to expose yourself to the camera for me, and you can let that knowledge arouse you more and more with each photo that gets taken, with each pose you strike. Only when I tell you the session is over will you return to normal. One, two, three."
Jen regarded them both with sharp interest. "This is going to be fun, I can tell." Then she looked pointedly at Gabe. "Scoot now. We have girlie things to do here. You'll find David through that door."
He left the women together and entered the next room as instructed. There he found the photographer taking light readings all around a four-poster bed made up with satin sheets. He watched as David completed the setting up and then, as they waited for Abbe to emerge, confirmed some special arrangements Gabe had requested.
After a long delay the dressing room door opened and the women emerged. Abbe came out first, her skin radiant and her hair flowing beautifully down behind her. She was wrapped loosely in a gold silk shawl that hid just enough of her to make him long to remove it. Jen followed with something furry folded in her arms.
Abbe stepped up on the platform to the edge of the bed, walking confidently in gold spiked heels and showing her bottom to the camera, then winked at Gabe as David snapped the first shot. Gabe watched transfixed as her body moved, fluidly and sensuously, almost dancing for him. The shawl slid easily over her skin, exposing and hiding her in bits and pieces, tantalizing his eyes and the photographer's lens. A half-dozen more clicks of the camera and she was becoming visibly aroused, letting her hands roam freely over her body to caress herself with the shawl. Her face glowed and that rich color flowed down her chest and belly as well, testifying to her state. Soon she began to moan and laid back on the bed, arching her back and opening her legs with complete abandon.
David worked steadily, keeping his position constant and letting her move to display herself as she wished. At first he encouraged her and offered posing suggestions, but as her passion took over he fell silent and simply took shot after shot, accepting every angle she gave him and uttering only appreciative murmurs. The shawl became a toy, sliding between her legs, across her nipples, behind her back, and after all the possibilities had been exhausted she tossed it aside and unabashedly fondled herself, moaning out loud and muttering, "Gabe, I want you, this is so fucking hot!" Periodically David looked to Gabe and Gabe gestured to him to keep going, so he kept shooting. Finally Abbe's moans turned loud and forceful and her body clenched and flexed its way through a powerful orgasm. David kept shooting as she came, focusing on her face and capturing that expression in detail.
Jen also looked a bit flushed as she waited for Abbe to recover. "Ready for another round?" she asked when Abbe's breathing had slowed to normal.
The model's eyes lit up as Jen tossed the furry throw over her and gently tugged it down her body a little. "Start shooting."
Abbe grabbed the furry blanket and caressed herself with it, rolling around on the bed and luxuriating in the feel of the fur against her skin. David shot picture after picture, again seeing her arousal visibly grow and her sounds and movements become increasingly erotic with each flash of the camera.
Gabe watched Abbe writhe on the bed and couldn't help but be aroused. Even Jen seemed to be affected, smoothing her business-like dress a bit more often than was strictly necessary and dividing her gaze between Abbe and David. Finally, after Abbe fingered herself through another loud climax and fell silent and still, David stopped shooting. "That's a wrap, I'd say."
Jen quickly agreed. "Good idea. Umm, David, why don't we leave Abbe and Gabe alone to … recover?"
"Yes, of course." David pressed something on the camera, removed a blue memory card, and laid it on a side table near the platform. "That's yours, as agreed."
"Thanks," he replied.
Jen took David by the arm and pulled him along toward the door. "We'll be in the office," she said. "Take your time."
Gabe waited for the door to close and then approached the bed. "The session is now over," he said.
Abbe stirred and moaned. "Oh my god, Gabe, that was hot. Tell me you thought that was hot."
"It was hot," he agreed. "I can't say much more as most of the blood has left my brain."
"If you don't get over here and take me right now, I'll have your balls in a jar."
"Well, since you put it that way ..."
Twenty minutes later a slightly breathless Gabe and Abbe knocked on the office door. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said. "Abbe needed … a bit of recovery time."
"Oh, of course." Jen and David seemed to blush just a little. "We understand."
Gabe produced a check from his pocket and held it out. David started to get up, seemed to think better of it, and simply reached from his position behind the desk. "Was everything, umm, satisfactory?"
Now Abbe blushed. "Oh, yes. Quite … satisfactory."
They said their goodbyes and Jen saw them to the front door, locking it again as they left. "Gee," Abbe remarked as they got into the car, "What do you suppose those two are doing right now?"
"Who's to say?" Gabe grinned and squeezed her hand. "By the way," he said, "this is yours." He handed her the blue memory card from David's camera.
"Is this …?"
"Yes," he assured her. "I gave him this card to load into the camera before you came out, and you saw him take it out and leave it with us when the session was over. The photos he took of you exist only on this card, which is now under your control."
Abbe leaned over for a long, tender kiss. "Thank you."
"I, too, appreciate the wisdom of reality TV. What will you do with it?"
She thought a moment, then tucked the little card into her bra. "I'll just let you wonder for a bit."
"My birthday's coming up," he offered hopefully.
Just after the official start of Spring, Abbe treated Gabe to a deluxe birthday dinner at home. They had chateaubriand, garlic mashed potatoes, and crisp asparagus with a hearty wine to wash it down. With the dishes in the dishwasher and their stomachs full, they moved to the sofa with the last of their wine.
"Ready for your present, darling?" Abbe asked.
Gabe, loosened a bit by the wine, leered openly down her blouse. "I've been ready."
"I'm glad you feel that way, love." She reached behind her and produced a thick manilla envelope from the side table. "I hope you like it."
He opened the envelope and found a magazine inside. A plain brown paper band hid most of the cover but the title was clear. "Penthouse?" he read, puzzled.
He slid off the brown paper and saw Abbe, draped in the gold silk shawl, looking up at him seductively. "Pet of the Month Abbe Sloan shows all," said the teaser below.
Gabe felt his mouth open as he stared at the magazine cover. "You didn't!"
"Of course not, silly." Abbe bounced on the couch with the pleasure of his reaction. "Even if I had, it wouldn't be in print that quickly. But it's amazing what you can find on the Internet these days."
He leafed through the magazine and saw page after page of Abbe, nude and fondling herself and having orgasms, and felt himself getting hard as he remembered the session.
"I found a place online that makes fake magazines with pictures you supply," she explained to her dumbfounded lover. "I wasn't about to send some unknown website these photos, of course, but it did make me wonder if Jen and David could do something similar. And it turns out, they could. So happy birthday, love."
Gabe was still turning pages and barely heard her. "Holy shit," he finally said. "This is amazing. You're amazing."
She grinned and kissed him. "Let's take this celebration to the bedroom, shall we?"