The making of a God Part 1 - Sex Stories

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The making of a God Part 1

Date: 9/1/2015, Categories: Fiction, Mind Control, Voyeurism, Author: sluttrainer137, Rating: 86.3, Source: sexstories.com

galore. I walked to the closet, opening the door, looking for something large enough to be called a present. This was nothing out of the ordinary, we often hung out in her room. Usually talking the day or night away about some football player that had broken her heart, or some such. I felt a tingle in the back of my head, and shook my head to clear it. “Well? Where is it?” I asked, wondering why I suddenly felt so strange. My head was cloudy. “Right there,” she said. I turned and saw her pointing at her bed. I walked past her over to the bed, and laid my hand on it. “This?” I said incredulously. “What would I want with a girly bed?” A joke. I should have known she was joking about getting me a present. I put on a mock angry expression and turned to face her as I spoke, “I have a bed and...” I trailed off as I realized she was standing there butt-naked. On a scale of one to ten, she was easily a ten. I should have turned away, but I couldn't. My head was so foggy, I couldn't even think straight and there she stood in all her glory, her hands at her side and wearing nothing but a wicked smile. What was I thinking? “Not the bed, Mat. Me, on the bed.” She winked. I should have turned and left. Can't concentrate. “Wha...?” I began as she stepped forward and kissed me. Quite thoroughly. Automatically, my arms encircled her and I pulled her closer to me. Running my hands up and down her back, I slid them around her body. The next thing I knew I had one hand on her perfect ... breast, and the other between her legs. She was so wet. She wasn't shaved, all the other girls I had ever been with were shaved, but she was trimmed, a tiny strip of hair that I found so erotic. What are you doing? This can't be happening? You're dreaming, you're imagining it. If she even knew you thought of her like this, she'd kill you. Her father would kill you. The tingle grew stronger as she pushed me away just far enough to remove my shirt. I couldn't stop her, I didn't want to stop her. In nothing flat, she had me standing there baring as much to the world as she was, and staring at my rock-hard cock. At 7 and a half inches, just like the rest of me, it was average. “Happy birthday,” she crooned in a breathless voice. My instinct was, if you're going to do this, do it. Take her, lay her on the bed and have your way with her. I couldn't move my arms. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to kiss her. The tingle was so strong, my head so cloudy. Almost of their own accord my hands grabbed her shoulders and spun her away from me. Placing a hand on each hip, I guided her to her door and out into the hallway. “You must be mad,” I told myself. “If you want to kill yourself, there are easier ways than getting Bruce to do it for you.” I tried to turn her around and take her back to her room, but it was like being a passenger in my own body. I could see, smell, taste, and feel, but not control. As we walked down the hallway, she was hesitant yet never tried to turn back. “It's your ...