Overcumming Melanie

Heather looked over at her friend inquiringly to see that Melanie was now stretching and yawning both loudly and obviously. In retrospect, Heather knew that Melanie had been doing this to try and hide what had just happened, something that might have actually worked, were it not for the fact that, while still in mid-stretch, Melanie's eyes rolled back in her head, her mouth dropped open, and her body went rigid and started quaking again, much more observably this time. After about a half minute of this, during which Heather could do little more than stare slack-jawed at her hot friend, Melanie collapsed back onto the couch with a dreamy look on her face, repeatedly squeezing her thighs together.

This time, there was little doubt what had just happened. If Melanie's actions on the couch beside Heather hadn't been clear enough, there was also now the unmistakable odour of aroused pussy permeating the space around the young women.

"Melanie?" asked Heather with a concerned tone, even as the musky smell of her friend's stimulation seeped into her nostrils. "What was that?"

Melanie looked over at her friend through half-lidded eyes and simply answered, "What?"

Heather was just opening her mouth to respond when, amazingly, Melanie was doing it again! This time, it was even more obvious that her friend was experiencing an orgasm—her third in as many minutes. This time, Melanie was openly arching her back, thrusting two clearly stimulated breasts up into the air, nipples stiffened, while unconsciously spreading her knees apart to expose a very obvious wet spot on the crotch of her pajama bottoms. As Heather stared at this wet spot disbelievingly, she could see it actually getting bigger, even as Melanie grunted and clenched her way through what was an obviously pleasurable experience.

Afterwards, as Melanie collapsed back onto the couch, her eyes were shut, and her breathing was shallow and rapid. Understandably, Heather was concerned, even if she was incredibly turned on by what she'd just seen, and was shifting uncomfortably with a pussy that, after an afternoon of being teased by watching Melanie's hot body from a distance, was suddenly very wet and begging for some long overdue attention.

"Melanie," Heather demanded, swallowing hard. "You ... you have to tell me what's going on."

When Melanie responded, her voice was distant, almost robotic. "Since yesterday," she breathed. "I've been having orgasms out of the blue."

Heather practically came right on the spot.

Orgasms? Out of the blue?

As if that weren't already erotic enough, her long-time crush had just answered Heather's question (that had been worded, admittedly, more like a command) as if she were in some kind of a trance, and was doing exactly what she had been told to do. It was, Heather realized excitedly, as if Melanie were deeply hypnotized and open to suggestion.

Heather's head was spinning, and trying to find the words to ask a follow-up question, when Melanie opened her eyes, blinked them a few times, and smiled over at her friend.

"What?" Melanie asked, as if she wasn't aware what had just happened. Heather could only gape back at the blonde woman, her own face flushed, and her heart pounding in her ears.

What the fuck?

"Everything OK Heather?" asked Melanie. "You look a little flushed."

What the ever-loving fuck?

Eventually Melanie gave up waiting for a response from Heather, grabbed a handful of party mix from the bowl on the coffee table, and went back to watching TV.

Heather kept staring at Melanie for a moment or two until she finally realized that to gape at her much longer would just make an uncomfortable situation worse. Eventually, she pulled her gaze away and returned it to the reality show, although she couldn't pay attention to it. She was still having trouble controlling her breathing, and the tingling in her crotch was getting too hard to ignore. Thankfully, the television program conveniently went to commercial, so Heather took the opportunity to excuse herself.

"I'm gonna use the washroom," she explained as steadily as she could as she stood up and practically rushed out of the room. She had barely made it into the privacy of the washroom before falling forward on her hands and knees, and shoving one hand into her, predictably, soaking panties. It didn't take more than two of three strokes before the young Italian woman was gasping and clutching her way through the first of what would become three orgasms in a row.

Collapsing onto the bath mat a few glorious minutes later, Heather tried to catch her breath and ponder what was going on.

Orgasms? Out of the blue? After which, Melanie is in a trance and open to suggestion?

Amazingly, Heather's body tightened up and experienced a mini orgasm at the very thought.

After a few minutes of deep breathing, Heather eventually pulled herself up, used the washroom, and then went to her guest bedroom to grab a fresh pair of panties from her suitcase. She counted the underwear that she'd brought with her, doing the math mentally, wondering if she'd brought enough with her, especially if Melanie was going to continue cumming for no reason at all.

Yes, this was a shock to Heather's system but it wasn't all that bizarre truth be told. She had, after all, heard about "The Lust Bus" incident that had taken place about a week ago, where a group of about a dozen passengers on a local city bus had been overcome with an inexplicable and uncontrollable horniness. Several had begun to openly masturbate, and two couples had actually started fucking. Right there on the bus. In public!

What's more, it had actually happened right around the corner from here!

Heather liked to keep an open mind. She didn't necessarily believe in magic, but she had to admit that something akin to magic was happening in this neighbourhood. First with the bus full of horny passengers, and now with her best friend having orgasms out of the blue.

This was an opportunity. Heather knew it. And so it was that, by the time Melanie's next orgasm hit her—about a half hour later—Heather had formulated a plan to take advantage of what fate had presented to her.

That's why, with Melanie sprawled out on the couch post-orgasm, her eyes closed in the aftermath, Heather whispered beside her ear, "I'm not sure what's going on with you Melanie, but you should feel comfortable enough to express it in front of me from now on. To fully express it, without reservation, or embarrassment."

A moment later, when Melanie opened her eyes, she looked confused again. "Did you say something?" she asked Heather.

Heather simply smiled and said, "Me? No, nothing at all."

Back in the cabana, Heather's pussy was squeezing her deeply embedded fingers in a fierce orgasm. In Heather's mind's eye was the look on Melanie's face two days prior, when that third orgasm had overcome her, and how her best friend had proceeded to drench her pajama bottoms with her own arousal, soaking them enough to make that arousal obvious.

--

Melanie and Zoe were munching on some cheese and crackers a few minutes later when Heather finally emerged from the nearby cabana. Their Italian friend had been gone a long time, but Melanie was the only one who seemed to have noticed. Zoe was still yammering on and on about something her stupid step-mother had recently done, and barely even registered that Heather was walking towards them, adjusting her bikini bottoms as she went.

She's looking flushed again, thought Melanie as she stared at Heather. Her friend's cheeks were red, and there was what appeared to be a heat rash on her upper chest too.

A patch of pink, right there in between ... well ... um ... her tits. I mean, her breasts.

It was hard to tell, because of the pattern on Heather's bikini top, but Melanie was pretty sure that her friend's nipples were erect as well. In fact, her best friend seemed to be just glowing. She was just so, well, cute lately. Gorgeous even. Had Heather been wearing her hair differently? New makeup? She hadn't gotten a boob job recently had she? Because her breasts looked simply delicious and oh so...

Wait, what am I thinking? Heather's breasts "delicious"? Where the hell did that come from?

But really, why the hell is Heather looking so much prettier lately?

--

I swear to God, muttered Heather under her breath as she took her seat beside her friends and reached for her margarita. If Zoe doesn't stop bitching about her fucking step-mother, I'm going to lose it.

It was pretty clear that Melanie was equally exasperated by the dark girl's repeated claims that the "dragon-lady" was out to get her. The blonde woman looked over at Heather, rolled her eyes so that only Heather could see it, and then deftly seized the opportunity of silence that presented itself when Zoe was taking a drink, to deftly change the subject.

The new topic wasn't all that interesting to Heather truth be told. She'd never much cared for the TV show that her two friends were now discussing, so she let her mind drift to what she'd done soon after she'd discovered that Melanie was having frequent unpremeditated orgasms that were, quite literally, mind-altering.

Perhaps predictably, Heather hadn't been able to sleep all that well on Tuesday night two days prior, even after bringing herself off several times while wishing she'd brought her special toy with her from home. She tossed and turned through a string of dreams that were simply drenched in Sapphic overtones, until she finally woke up around 4;30 AM, and just couldn't get back to sleep. Eventually, her curiosity got the better of her prudence, and she stole into the hallway outside Melanie's room, cracked the door a little, and sat down on the floor where she had a view of her friend's slumbering form. She was here strictly to observe, she told herself; she wanted to see exactly what happened to Melanie after one of her orgasms when she wasn't in public—that was, when, at least sub-consciously, she had an expectation on privacy. It wasn't a long wait. Only about a half hour later, around 5:30 AM, Melanie called out in her sleep as her body was rocked by an obvious climax.

Heather shivered in her own moist arousal as she watched Melanie convulse, clench up, and finally exhale in release, before rolling over on her side. Although it appeared that she had simply gone back to a sleeping state, Heather noticed that there was a noticeable change in the blonde's breathing. It was slightly accelerated, and not quite like the typical drawn-out breathing associated with sleep. Heather didn't have a whole lot of experience with hypnosis, but she remembered from what little she'd seen of it that, when a person was in a deep, suggestible trance, they'd breathe just like this. This, Heather was pretty sure, was trance breathing.

Is that even a thing?

Well, it is now.

As Heather watched Melanie in bed, she counted out the seconds before the young woman sighed deeply before her breathing evened out and deepened.

Thirty seconds. Almost exactly thirty seconds.

Heather started breathing again herself, even though she hadn't been aware that she'd even stopped. This was almost too good to be true. If she was right, she had a period of about thirty seconds in which Melanie was open to suggestion.

Not much time really, but you could still say a lot in half a minute, especially if you planned ahead. And, there was still the question as to whether or not she was even right about the whole hypnosis thing in the first place. There was still the possibility that what had happened earlier, when Melanie had revealed that she was experiencing orgasms out of the blue when Heather had inadvertenly commanded her to tell her what was going on, was a huge fluke. She needed a way to test it and, as the young Italian woman spread her legs on the hallway floor and began to stroke her way towards her first orgasm of the day while she stared at the post-orgasmic form of her girlfriend, she began to formulate a plan.

The first opportunity to put this new plan into action came later that day, just after noon. Heather had stuck close to Melanie all day long, had been encouraging her to relax and take it easy, while waiting for the right moment, which finally came when the two girls were sitting around the pool. Melanie was reading a book when it suddenly dropped from her hand as her legs spread, her crotch thrust forward, and the young woman squealed and grunted. It was a bigger show than Heather had been used to getting, making her think that maybe, just maybe, her command to Melanie to be more open about cumming in front of Heather had been received and understood.

Still, if the young brunette player her cards right, the experiment that she was about to conduct would settle the question of Melanie's openness to command once and for all.

Waiting for the perfect moment—that period of time just after the orgasm had begun to fade away and when Melanie's breathing indicated she was entering the trance state—Heather moved forward and whispered directly into her mesmerized friend's ear.

"Listen carefully Melanie," she said, as she tried to calm her own breathing. Heather had given what she was about to say a lot of thought. Sure, what she was about to suggest may be a little stereotypical, but it was a good way to test her theory as any, and at least it was something they could simply laugh off should her beliefs turn out to be incorrect. "When you wake up, you will immediately stand up, flap your arms, and cluck like a chicken. After about thirty seconds, you will stop and not remember having done anything strange."

Heather giggled to herself as she returned to her seat and watched Melanie as, a moment later, she came out of the trance state, look over at her with a smile before yawning and stretching. The brunette was just wondering if maybe she had been mistaken about the suggestible state after all, when her hot friend rose slowly to her feet, folded her hands under her armpits, and started flapping her arms up and down while strutting about the pool deck making "cluck cluck" sounds.

Holding her breath in shock and awe, Heather didn't know whether to laugh or cum. She only knew that she desperately wanted—no, needed—to do both. Soon!

It works!

Holy Fuck!

After the prescribed half a minute, Melanie stopped strutting and clucking, lowered her arms to her side and, with a placid, contented expression on her face, returned to her lounge chair. As she took a sip of her drink, Melanie looked over at Heather, who was now staring at her wide-eyed, and asked, "What?"

"Oh nothing," answered the Italian girl as calmly as she could. "What just happened?"

Melanie looked perplexed. "Just now? I got up and stretched of course. I've been sitting way too much today."

As her friend answered her, Heather was staring her girlfriend carefully in the eye, looking for a hint that Melanie was lying to her. As far as the young Italian woman could figure, her hot friend was being entirely honest. As far as she was concerned, she'd just finished stretching, and had not just done a most excellent impression of a chicken.

"I see," said Heather simply, suddenly having a difficult time breathing. "If you'll excuse me, I have to use the washroom."

"Again?"

Ignoring Melanie's protests, Heather moved swiftly into the cabana where, once inside, she didn't even wait to pull down her bikini bottoms before shoving both hands into them and frigging herself to a particularly explosive orgasm, one that was fuelled by the prospect of what she could do with her long-time crush now that she was virtually programmable.

Gasping for breath afterwards, Heather realized that she was very much looking forward to putting ideas into Melanie's pretty little head, and then watching her respond in turn.

--

Not surprisingly, back in the present, Zoe had very quickly found a way to redirect the conversation back to her dragon-lady of a step-mother, so Heather and Melanie had excused themselves to get some snacks and to make another batch of margaritas.

"If we make Zoe's extra strong," asked Heather when they were out of earshot in the kitchen. "Do you think she'll forget all about her step-mom?"

Melanie laughed out loud at this, in that lyrical way that never ceased to make Heather melt. "Doubt it," answered the blonde, as she struggled to open a jar of pickles. "I've been doing exactly that all afternoon. That bitch can hold her liquor!" Grunting at the effort of vainly twisting the jar's lid, she added, "What we really need is a man to get this jar open!"

"Nonsense," countered Heather as she snatched the container out of her friend's hands. With hardly any effort at all, she twisted the lid and it slid right off. Triumphantly, Heather held the opened jar up to her friend, and said, "A woman's touch is just as good as a man's. Maybe even better."

Melanie gasped as her eyes fluttered shut.

A woman's touch, Melanie repeated in her head.

The suddenly stimulated blonde woman could be mistaken, but she was pretty sure that she'd just moaned out loud a little bit, and hoped that Heather hadn't heard. Her ear lobes were suddenly burning, and her scalp was tingling all of a sudden too. It felt like the temperature of the room had just gone up a couple hundred degrees and she was, abruptly, a lot more hornier than she already had been, as if that were even possible these days.

Why does that phrase affect me like this? Why is Heather affecting me like this?

"Wh ... What did you say?" mumbled Melanie.

Heather was smiling cheekily back at Melanie now, standing right beside her, the bare skin of arm brushing against her own and raising gooseflesh as a result. "A woman's touch," Heather was repeating throatily. "I said that it's often better than a man's."

There was no hiding it this time as Melanie practically swooned, falling against Heather, who was quick to catch her. Melanie's body was suddenly on fire, and it didn't help that her breasts were crushed up against those of her best friend, exciting her sensitive nipples through the thin layer of material that was her bikini top.

Helplessly, Melanie looked up into Heather's face, their lips close enough that Heather could feel her friend's breath. It was warm.

A woman's touch.

Heather was just about to open her mouth to say something, when they heard the sound of the patio door sliding open and Zoe loudly entering.

"What in heaven's name issh takin' so long," slurred the obviously inebriated young woman while Melanie and Heather struggled to right themselves before they had to explain what had been going on.

Mutually fumbling some kind of excuse, the two friends grabbed the drinks and snacks that they'd been preparing, and followed a cursing Zoe back out onto the pool deck. Once she'd set the drink tray down, Melanie grabbed her glass, sat down in her lounge chair, and took a long drink of the slushy concoction, even though this meant risking a frozen headache.

What the hell had just happened?

Sneaking a peak at Heather over the top of her margarita glass, Melanie found her friend looking back at her unabashed. Confident even. Cocksure.

What's going on with Heather? And why do I find it so ... so, alluring!

Sure, Heather had always been cute, even if Melanie hadn't always been able see it. The three of them had always accepted that Melanie was the most attractive one in the group, and Heather? Well she may have been cute in the kind of way that her Italian background enabled, but it was that same background that brought the aspects of her appearance that Melanie knew made Heather self-conscious: the extra hair, everywhere. Heather had more than once admitted to feeling ugly in comparison to her blonde friend, and was forever making sure that her unibrow was plucked, and that the dark pubes that were perpetually threatening to curl out the sides of the crotch of her bikini bottoms, curls that Melanie had several times even helped her trim, were behaving themselves.