Hypnotic Surrender: A MILF’s Forbidden Reunion Domination
Links to dive deeper: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6
Chapter 1: Salt Air Whispers and Sudden Urges
I stepped off the train at the coastal station, the briny tang of the ocean hitting me like a slap from an old lover. Seagulls screeched overhead, waves crashing in the distance, and the sun dipped low, painting everything golden. Ten years since college, since that wild life before Alex, before the twins chewing through my days like termites. Now a part-time librarian in our sleepy suburb, sorting dusty tomes while dreaming of escape. This reunion at the beachside resort? My first solo jaunt in forever. Alex pushed me to go, said it’d shake the rust off. Kids too young for sand and strangers. Two nights of freedom—reunion Friday night, Saturday drive up the coast to see my aunt, then home Sunday.
Hotel check-in was a blur. Salt-kissed air seeped through the lobby’s open arches, mixing with chlorine from the pool. My room overlooked the dunes, waves humming like a lullaby. I unpacked my slinky black number, the one hugging my full hips and D-cups just right—brunette waves tumbling to my shoulders, a few silver strands I blamed on motherhood. Showered off the train grime, skin tingling under hot spray, soap suds sliding over my thick thighs. A glass of red from the minibar, tart on my tongue, warmth spreading low. Felt alive, pussy twitching faintly with neglect. Alex and I rutted like rabbits pre-kids, now it was missionary quickies.
Down to the resort’s beachfront pavilion by 7, heels sinking into warm sand paths. Voices swelled—familiar faces blurred by time. Laughter, clinking glasses, grill smoke heavy with charred steak and seafood. Then her voice cut through: “Sofi-bug! Over here!” Lara, my old roomie, four years of shared secrets, crop tops, and late-night confessions. Blonde now, athletic build from her personal trainer gigs, green eyes sparkling wicked. We crashed into a hug, her body firm against my softer curves, coconut lotion scent invading my nose.
“God, you look fuckable, Soph,” she grinned, that same devilish tilt to her lips. We gossiped over shrimp cocktails, spicy and succulent, as old classmates swirled. Assigned seats split us, but eyes kept locking across the room. Dinner dragged—speeches, toasts—then milling. I grabbed a fresh Pinot, crisp and fruity, weaving tables. Her call again: “Sofi-bug, snag one for me?” The nickname slammed me. Only she ever used it, from freshman pranks. Heart stuttered. Urge hit like a gut punch—must fetch her wine. Body moved on autopilot to the bar, hands shaking as I ordered two. Realization dawned, hot and sick. That frat bash junior year. Hypno games. She’d sworn it off. But the pull… fuck.
Back at her table, glasses clinking down. Her eyes widened, then narrowed sly. “Sit, Sofi-bug.” Couldn’t bolt. Plopped beside her, friends nodding vaguely. Memories flooded: her tests post-party, little commands I brushed off. Sitting trapped as they chatted, thighs clenched, pussy inexplicably dampening.
Chapter 2: Tabletop Confessions and Flickering Tongues
Her crew peeled off, leaving us. I glared. “Cut this shit, Lara.”
She smirked, sipping slow. “Cut what, Sofi-bug?”
Resistance crumbled. “Please, Miss… stop.” Voice small, cheeks burning. 🔥
“Holy shit, it stuck after all this time?” Her laugh low, throaty. “Didn’t plan it, swear. But damn, that wine fetch? Gold.”
“You promised, Miss. Junior year.”
“Stick out your tongue, flick it like a needy slut.”
“No, fuck you… Miss.” Out it lolled, flicking obscenely. Drool beaded, eyes watering in humiliation. She chuckled, rich and dark.
“Pull it in before you look like a porn reject.” Snapped back, lips numb. Tried rising—her finger wagged. Stuck fast.
“Beg me up to your room, Sofi-bug. Nicely.”
Throat tight. “Miss… would you come to my room? Please?”
“Lead on, pet.” Wove through goodbyes, her hand possessive on my lower back. Elevator dinged shut. She crowded close, breath minty-hot on my neck.
“Freeze.” Muscles locked. Elevator hummed up. Her palm cupped my tit through silk, thumb circling nipple to stiff peak. Gasped, “No…” Hand trailed down, pressing dress to my mound, fingers outlining cameltoe. Pussy throbbed traitorously, juices soaking panties. Ding—freedom. Stumbled to my door, key fumbling.
Chapter 3: Doorway Devouring and Buried Secrets
Inside, door clicked. She slammed me wall-ward, mouth crashing mine. Tongue invaded, tasting wine and salt. Pushed away—froze again. She sauntered to armchair, legs splaying.
“Wine, Sofi-bug. Pour.”
Trembling to minibar, glugged two glasses. Handed hers—shared sips, her lipstick smearing rim for my turn. Sat opposite, pulse hammering.
“You lied, Miss. Swore off the mindfuck.”
“Told you to forget. Wedding gift.” Smirked.
“Forget what?”
“Turn down the bed.”
Body obeyed, sheets crisp under fingers, while she spilled: phone nudge for solo trip, post-grad wipes. “Strip, slut.”
“Please, no… I got kids, a life. Not into chicks, Miss.”
Yet dress pooled, bra unclasped—tits spilling heavy, nipples dusky. Pantyhose peeled, revealing garter-tied stockings I’d worn for thrill. Panties last, trimmed bush glistening.
Naked Lara patted bed. Crawled between her thighs, musky arousal thick, clit peeking swollen from pink folds. “Lick.”
Tongue flicked—salty-sweet nectar. “Suck it in, tease.”
Mouth engulfed, swirling, her moans vibrating air. “Missed this tongue. Wedding day, veil back, you munched my cunt before vows.”
Mumbled against flesh, “Liar…” Sucked harder, tears hot.
“Homework help? How many sessions?”
“One-eighty-seven…” Knew it weirdly precise.
“Cunt-munching, every time. Psych class gift.”
Phone buzzed—Alex. She snatched, “Hey stud, Soph’s tied up.” Hand jammed my face deeper, clit pulsing on tongue as kids babbled through speaker. Flicked frantic, tasting her drip, voice steady lies. Hung up—freedom? No, feast resumed. 💋
Chapter 4: Midnight Confessions and Throat-Fucking Tongues
Her thighs clamped my ears, hips bucking. “Finger my hole, bitch.” Two digits plunged sopping depths, curling G-spot. She squirted sudden—hot gush flooding mouth, salty-fishy, choking me. Gulped, face slick.
“Bedside drawer. Lube and vibe.”
Fetched, hotel complimentary toys gleaming. She slathered vibe thick, shoved my ass up. “Spread cheeks.”
“Miss, virgin there…”
“Not anymore.” Buzzing tip breached pucker, stretching ring slow-burn agony-pleasure. Inch by inch, fuller than Alex’s cock. “Ride it.”
Impaled, rocking, pussy clenching empty. She straddled face reverse, grinding snatch on mouth, ass smothering nose. “Eat ass now.”
Tongue probed rim, musky tang, rimming deep. Vibe hummed prostate-mimic, orgasm ripping—no clit touch, just anal waves crashing. Squirted clear on sheets, body convulsing.
She spun, fisting my hair. “Truth time, Sofi-bug. Freshman year, parked you under weekly. Fucked you with straps, fists, pissed your mouth post-cum. Wiped clean each dawn.”
“No… smells wrong.”
“Cum-dump for my dates too. Forgot it all till tonight.”
Horror twisted gut, yet clit ached. She yanked vibe free, gaping ass. “Kneel.”
Strap-on from suitcase—hers?—harnessed on. Thick veiny dildo, 9 inches. “Suck.”
Gagged deep, throat bulging, drool ropes swinging tits. Face-fucked brutal, mascara rivers. “Good whore.”
Pinned missionary, legs hoisted. Slammed in, pussy yielding greedy. Walls gripped ridges, cervix battered. “Fuck yes, tighter than hubby.”
Screamed release, milking her fake cock. Pulled out, spun doggy. Ass re-invaded, raw stretch. “Own this hole.”
Pounded till stars, another anal quake.
Chapter 5: Beachside Breaking and Public Tease
Dawn light filtered curtains. Woke chained—cuffs from drawer? To headboard, pussy tender-throbbing. Lara stirred nude, curves golden.
“Morning piss-pet. Open.”
“Please…” Mouth agape. Hot stream jetted tongue, acrid-warm, swallowing shamefully. Cleaned her slit after.
Released. “Beach walk. No panties.”
Dress hiked, breeze kissing bare lips. Sand dunes, waves roaring. Early joggers dotted shore.
“Kneel behind rock. Masturbate.”
Fingers delved slick folds, pinching clit. Moans muffled by surf. Voices neared—friends? Climax hit sneaky, juices spraying sand.
Back to room, shower steam thick. Soapy hands mauled tits, her fingers fisting cunt—four knuckles deep, wrist twisting. Stretched obscene, squirting arcs on tile. Taste of soap-shampoo mix as she fed fingers mouth.
Afternoon: “Rent toys nearby.” Compelled to adult shop, bought plug, clamps, collar. Displayed proudly.
Clamped nipples screamed fire-pleasure. Plug ballooned ass full. Collared, leashed to bed. Fucked strap again, choking gasps. “Cum only on command.”
Edged hours, begging. “Please, Miss, need it!”
Permission—exploded, vision blacking.
Evening reunion afterparty. Dressed slutty, plug humming remote-vibe. At bar, her thumb buzzed high—knees buckled, orgasm silent amid crowd. Friends chatted oblivious, my face flushed.
Chapter 6: Total Eclipse and Eternal Trigger
Night deepened. Back room, wrecked. She bound wrists overhead, spreader bar ankles. “Final test.”
Ice from bucket trailed skin—nipples, belly, clit. Melted cold rivulets mixing sweat. Then hot wax drips, sealing cries. Pussy lips spread, vibe plunged merciless.
“Recite: I’m Lara’s cum-slut forever.”
Chanted through peaks, body shattering thrice.
Fisting next—lube-slick forearm disappearing cunt, elbow deep. Ribs outlined inside, punching lungs. “Scream my name!”
“Laraaaa!” Gushed torrent, soaking her to tits.
Dawn again. Unbound, spent. “Last command: forget nothing. Return monthly, or crave death.”
Aunt visit skipped—fucked coast road motel instead, tail lights blurring orgasms.
Homebound train, pussy pulsing memories. Alex kissed cheek. “Fun?”
“Life-changing.” Nightly fingered to her face, whispering triggers alone.
Reunion broke me open. Craved the chains. Sofi-bug, eternally hers. 💋🔥
