Very Convincing

Very Convincing by Tyrannosaurus Sex jjj7676@gmail.com

Thanks very much to everyone who wrote for all the positive responses I received for my last story, "Fun." Believe me, nothing makes me (or any of the authors here, I'm sure) happier than getting even a short note saying you've enjoyed a piece of work. I can't say it enough: Thanks! Your feedback is always welcome.

This is a work of fiction. It is prurient in nature. You shouldn't read it if you're not old enough.

"No way!"

Lexa had to put her drink down, she was laughing so hard. "No way!" she said again. "Really?"

I nodded. "Really. Right into his mouth. I was so trashed. But that was it for me. It was too much. He got off, and I bounced."

"At least you didn't have to ask to use the bathroom," she ribbed. "And you didn't see him again?"

"No way." I shook my head firmly and took a long sip of my own drink. "If he hadn't spent so much money on those shoes, and if I hadn't been so drunk and stoned, I could not have done it. I don't mind a little kink, but I'm not that kinky."

"But you kept the shoes," Lexa murmured, smirking.

I grinned. "Damn straight! And I never felt guilty about it."

We whooped, and a few eyes turned toward our table in the back corner of the bar. Lexa raised her glass. "Cheers!"

Our glasses clinked, and we sipped from them, both still shaking a little with laughter. She took a deep breath and gazed steadily into my eyes.

"I'm not sure, though..." she said. She smiled mysteriously.

"What?" I cocked my head. She waved dismissively, but I wasn't having it. "Not sure about what?"

Lexa shrugged. "That you're not that kinky." She stirred her drink absently.

Well. Was she hitting on me? No, that didn't feel right. I'd only known Lexa since Brian's office holiday party a month before, but I wasn't getting that vibe off of her.

Probably she was just in the mood for some juicy girl talk. I knew the feeling: After months in the city with only Brian for regular company, I was dying for some female companionship. Lexa was in the same boat, except that she hadn't been here for quite as long and didn't even have a husband to hang out with. It had been a mutual thrill when we'd hit it off at the party, and I was so glad we'd actually followed through on our promises to get together.

So I hated to disappoint her, but seriously, that one was the only kinky story I had, and I had to say so.

But Lexa just shook her head. "Braeden, maybe that's the only kinky thing you've done," she said, "but I bet you're a lot kinkier than you know."

I raised my eyebrows. "I think you'd lose that bet," I said, waving the waitress over to order us another round. When she was gone, I continued: "I prefer missionary, I don't let Brian play with my ass in bed, and I've never even experimented with another girl, not even in college." Now it was my turn to smirk. "I am the definition of vanilla."

"And Brian's cool with all of that?" Lexa asked.

I nodded, and at the thought of my still-new husband--we'd only been married the summer before--I couldn't help but smile. "He's so great."

"He's a super sweetheart," she agreed, grinning back. I couldn't suppress the flash of jealousy that ran through me. Lexa and Brian worked in the same department, and she probably knew him as well as anyone else there--which was one more reason I was glad we were getting to be friends. I was no slouch, not by any means, but Lexa was hottt with three t's. Better if she felt some kind of loyalty to me.

I changed the subject. "What made you think I was so kinky?"

She smiled slyly. "I still think you are. And I know from kinky."

"Oh, really?" This was kind of exciting. "Well, do tell. After all, you've heard my story."

"Well," Lexa said, "I have more than one story. Lots more."

"Well, tell me a good one."

She knitted her brow slightly, and then looked satisfied. "OK. One time," she began, "one time I kind of gave this guy a really serious panty fetish."

"What?" My confusion must have been scrawled across my face. "You can't just give someone a fetish." She just looked at me, eyes wide and reasonable. "Can you?"

"Can't you?" Lexa asked. "Most people get fetishes when they're young, because of something that happens to them. It's easier then, because their minds are more flexible. But there's nothing that actually prevents it from happening to older people."

"I'd just never heard of that," I said, still skeptical. "But how would you even do such a thing?"

The waitress came back with our drinks and set them down, and then swayed away. She was typical of the girls working in bars all over the city--young, cute, a tattoo in the small of her back.

Lexa leaned in closer. "I'm very convincing when I want to be. The guy was really good-looking, pretty used to getting laid whenever he wanted, I think. So I kind of used that against him. We'd go out and, even after our first date, we'd end up making out for hours. Shirts off, mouths all over each other--but no touching below the waist. None at all.

"By three dates in, he was getting pretty desperate. I mean, clearly I was into him, and he didn't want all of his hard work to go to waste. And we had great chemistry.

"So on our fourth date, we went back to my place, and it was more of the same. But then I pulled him back into my bedroom." She winked conspiratorially. "I slid my jeans off so I was just in my panties.

"And of course he tried to climb on top of me, but I gently pushed him away, and wouldn't let him take his pants off, and told him to kiss my feet." She waggled her fingers, and I could imagine her stretched out on her back, wiggling her toes in front of this poor guy's face.

"What if he'd tried to--what if he'd just...?" I said, at a loss for words. Lexa was in shape, but she wasn't a big girl.

"Oh," she said, "like I said, I can be very convincing when I want to be. And besides, he loved it. He got down there and started working his lips all over--first, little kisses. He kept trying to work his way up my calf and legs, but I kept pushing his head back down. Pretty soon he was sucking on my toes and just, like, slurping my feet." She looked me in the eye. "Have you ever had anyone just slurping your feet?" I shook my head. "Well, it's awesome," she said.

I couldn't think what to say, but I was definitely starting to get wet in my own jeans.

"Anyway," Lexa said, "that's the first step. I got him into an unusual place sexually--mentally speaking, I mean. Totally made him more pliable.

"By that time, he was craving my feet and not even trying to get back up my legs, so then I started motioning for him to work up a little higher. Gradually I got him up to my panties--which, of course, at this point were pretty fucking wet, seeing as I'd been totally fingering myself. So by the time he got to my thighs, all he was smelling was pussy, pussy, pussy."

The bar was loud, but at this point, Lexa was leaning in so close that her voice was barely a murmur.

"Smell is a powerful sense," she said. "Especially sexually. It keys into certain parts of the brain that totally bypass the rational faculties. I wouldn't let him use his fingers or his tongue. I just kept him there, face just an inch from my panties, and ordered him to inhale, told him to smell and smell and smell. And the whole time, I could watch him shifting so uncomfortably. His dick was so fucking hard."

I gulped my drink. "H-how did you know?" I whispered. "I mean, if he had his pants o--"

She grinned, and dipped a finger in her drink, and then licked it. "Because I finally let him up and told him to get his pants off. He tore those fuckers off and his underwear too, and it was like, boing!"

I took another gulp of my drink.

"So then I peeled my wet undies off, and I brought them up to my own face, and I took a nice, long whiff," Lexa said. Her eyes were bright. "That was important--my doing it gave him permission to do it himself. Plus," she giggled, "I totally love the smell of pussy."

Oh, God. I was a little drunker than I thought. I'd thought my story was bad, but the way Lexa was telling this one...oh, God. I was going to go home and fuck my husband when we were done, and maybe sneak in a good, long fingering too.

"I made him kneel on the bed," she continued, "and told him to jerk off slowly but not to come until I said so. I gave him the panties, and I made him smell them and suck on them, and rub them on his cock and all over, down on his balls and in his taint and ass, and then suck and smell on them again, and I kept telling him to stop when I thought he was getting too close, and finally, I let him spray all over the panties."

She was whispering fiercely by that last part, and I felt like I could have almost come myself, all over my own panties, if she'd just gone on. Oh, how fucking crazy...

"But that didn't give him a panty fetish..." I said hesitantly.

"Not that time," Lexa agreed. "But by twelve or so dates later, he had one. I didn't even have to make out with him. We'd get back to my bedroom, and I'd lay out all my dirty panties from the week before, and he'd just strip naked and rub his face all over them, and jerk off until he blew his load. I mean, it wasn't that long before he was wearing a pair himself while he did it."

"Oh, my God," I said.

"I know." She looked positively pleased with herself. "Pretty soon he was stealing them from me, and then I called him on it and told him he was too big of a perv and that we needed to cool it for a while."

"What? Why?"

"To see if it had worked," she said. "And it had. I went to his place about a week and a half later, and he had racked up a ton of credit card debt buying used panties online."

"How do you know?" I asked.

"He told me." She shrugged. "I promised to give him the panties I was wearing if he admitted how freaky his addiction had gotten--and I had just been working out for an hour and a half at the gym, so, like, he wanted those pretty badly," Lexa said, laughing. "He told me everything while he jerked off. That was the last time I saw him."

This was nuts! "But you never even fucked him?" I said.

She shook her head.

"Then why? Why would you do that?"

Another shrug. "It was fun. Wouldn't you think it was fun, fucking up somebody's sexuality at a completely deep and permanent level?" She pressed her smug smile into a half-kiss.

The way she said that--I just about shook with arousal. But...I didn't answer her. Instead I said, "What happened to him? Is he just like that forever?"

She waved a hand, nodding. "He totally went into debt, and he eventually got arrested for stealing panties out of the girls' dorm at the local college. That's what his sister told me, anyway. But that was awhile ago. I don't know what's come of it." Lexa licked her lips. "You think that's terrible--or you think you should think it's terrible--but it turns you on to think of it, doesn't it? Some perfectly innocent guy, just out to get laid, turned into a total pervert?"

I nodded slowly. "It's...nasty. I just can't believe it. And I still don't get why you'd do it."

"Oh, it's believable enough," she said. "I just brought out some tendencies that were lying dormant inside of him. And like I said, I did it for the fun of it...and, I guess, because I wanted to get into his sister's pants."

If I hadn't finished my drink a second before, I'd have spit it out. "What?"

"Well, yeah," Lexa said. "C'mon, Braeden. I told you I loved the smell of pussy. Not just my own!" She giggled and signaled to the waitress to bring another round.

"I totally wanted this chick," she went on, "but there was no way. She was, like, a super goodie-goodie. I mean, you think you're not kinky--this girl was married at nineteen to her high school sweetheart, and, like, had never even sucked her husband's dick."

"She was married?" I said quietly.

"Very," Lexa said. "And if I wanted to perv her out, I had to find some way to get her talking about sex. See, it's easier with guys--you just have to get them in the right state of mind, and that's usually no problem. But with girls, you need an excuse. Once I started talking about why her brother had gotten arrested, though, I knew we could move on to other sex talk and eventually she'd be creaming herself, and totally receptive."

My eyes were bulging at this point.

"So pretty soon we were talking about fetishes and the crazy sex people will get into, and she was squirming like crazy. I was telling her about facials and rimjobs, and then I started telling her about this crazy porn I'd seen online, with these three chicks on top of each other--the one in the middle was fucking the one on the bottom's pussy with a strap-on and getting fucked in the ass with a strap-on by the one on top.

"And this girl--it was so cute, because she totally didn't want to come out and say it--but she was like, 'I can't even imagine what that would look like.' And very innocently I said, 'Well, we could go look at it on your computer....'"

"She was so worried about what her husband would say if he found out, but I showed her how to clear her history file. And we watched the video, and then we watched another, and then one more...and then I told her I had to go, and I just, like, took off."

"You left?" I said. I was kind of relieved. Giving some random guy a panty fetish was one thing; fucking up someone's marriage was different. But I should have known better.

"Of course!" Lexa said. The waitress returned with our drinks, and Lexa paid her. "Hey, what's your name?" she asked the girl.

"Becca," the waitress said, smiling.

"Great. Thanks, Becca." Lexa tipped her and the girl wandered off. She turned back to me. "I had to leave. An Internet porn addiction is easy to start in the right person, but you have to let it grow. There was no way this chick was going to do anything with me right then and there. But she totally spent the rest of the day masturbating to Web porn."

"She did?" I said.

"Oh, yeah," Lexa answered. "She told me so, later. But I had to be careful to pick the right video to start with. Lesbo porn was best, because it made her more and more curious--she just kept wondering what it would be like to kiss another girl, to feel her boobs, to suck her pussy."

I was starting to wonder too, I had to admit. My jeans felt so fucking tight, and I had a bad feeling that if I stood up, there would be a visible dark spot on my ass from where all the moisture had seeped in.

"So the next time I came by, it was just, you know, to hang out and talk." Lexa smiled impishly. "And finally I asked her, very secretive-like, if she'd watched any more videos.

"And of course she totally had. So we went back to the computer room, giggling like we were in school again, and she showed me what she'd found. And I showed her some stuff, too, and we looked at porn for almost an hour. And I veeeery surreptitiously slipped my hand into my lap and was rubbing myself off--like I didn't want her to notice, but of course I did! And she did. And she started doing the same, so that we were both masturbating and pretending not to notice, even when one of us would totally be biting her lip and coming in her pants."

Ohmigod.

"I got kind of greedy. I would have moved more slowly, but I wanted to just get naked with this girl so fast!" Lexa smiled and shook her head ruefully. "And she was totally up for it. So I started stopping by every day, and pretty soon we were dispensing with the small talk and just heading straight back to the computer room. And after a week or so--it was so wild!--we would both be sitting there with our pants unbuttoned, fingering ourselves like crazy, looking at really trashy lesbian porn but not doing anything! Because I wanted her to make the first move.

"But it was taking forever, so finally we were watching these two chicks making out and fingering each other, and I just said, 'Oh, that looks soooo gooood....'

"And she said, 'We could just take our clothes off, just for fun.' So we got naked. And then I said, 'We could just smell each other a little, no touching.' Remember how important I said smell was? So she got down on her knees and I spread my legs and she just inhaled my scent.

"And I very gently put my hand on the back of her head, and just gave her the littlest push. She was resistant for a minute or two, kept mumbling that it was wrong in between sniffs, but then I said, 'Nasty lesbian wives'--which was one of the sites we'd been looking at--and she just pushed her face right in there and started sucking."

Lexa stopped and looked at me. I was breathing quickly, shallowly.

"Wh-what happened to her?" I asked.

"From that point on, she was just sliding deeper and deeper into the pits of depravity," Lexa said. "Total sex toy, basically. Whatever I wanted. She started dressing trashy, and we would go out dancing. I loved to make her pick up girls and guys, and she loved how it turned me on to watch her fuck some random dude in a hotel room with her wedding ring on." She chuckled and put her right hand on top of my left. "She was such a perv by the time we were done. I even got her to mail a pair of her wet panties to her brother in jail."

I gasped. "But didn't her husband notice anything?" I said.

"Braeden." She clucked her tongue. "He was way too busy with his own new addiction to, you know, picking up guys in adult bookstores."

"What?" I said. "You're nuts."

"It's true, but I'm not going to tell you about it. The point is, he was pretty young, and I'm pretty sure he found a sugar daddy, since I don't think they let him keep his job as a minister. At least, I imagine the diocese took the JPEGs and the very vivid description of his activities as a resignation letter."

"So then what happened to her?" I asked.

"Well, she loved porn so much at that point, it seemed pretty obvious that she should move to Southern California and start thinking about it as a real career."

"So did she?" I said.

"I'm not sure," Lexa said. "I mean, I know she moved there because I suggested it to her, but I don't know how her career's going. It all happened just before I moved out here, and I don't keep in touch. Isn't it so much nastier to fuck up somebody's life and then drop them like a used Kleenex?"

My stomach felt funny. I couldn't even speak. Lexa flagged Becca, the waitress, over. Becca leaned down while Lexa whispered in her ear, and then smiled, looked at me closely, nodded, and walked away.

Everything she'd told me swirled around in my head. I was turned on, but...

"You're so full of shit, Lex," I said. "That is some crazy shit, but it's a bunch of bull."

"Really?" she said, raising an eyebrow.

"Really," I said, nodding. "You did not just give some guy a panty fetish just so you could turn his married sister into a porn-star wannabe sex toy. And you didn't turn her husband gay." I gave her a look, daring her to stick to her story.

"I told you," she said. "I can be very convincing when I want to be. It's just a matter of getting somebody into the right state and then twisting their thoughts in a perverted direction, and then giving them something, you know, to make it stick."

"Like the smell of your pussy," I said. I smirked.

"Not just my pussy," she said. The bathroom door on the opposite wall swung open and Becca strolled out and over to our table. Her hand was clenched. Her face red but smiling, she dropped whatever she was holding onto my lap and walked off quickly. I picked it up to see what it was.

A pair of wet panties. Becca's panties. The intense horniness I'd managed to contain for a couple of minutes swelled up and, glancing to see if anyone was watching, driven by a need that suddenly felt like a gaping void inside of me, I mashed them up against my face and inhaled their scent.

Oh, God.

Embarrassed, I dropped my hand and the panties back into my lap. I'd thought before that I was as wet as I could get, but now I was twice that. The urge to go finger myself in the restroom was incredible.

"What are you doing to me?" I whispered to Lexa. My voice shook with fear--and lust.

"Perving you out," she said, smiling. "You're going home with Becca after her shift's over, and I think you're going to be surprised at your new foot fetish, your new panty fetish, your new porn addiction and how inspiring you find it, and how hot it makes you to sleep someplace different every night and cheat on your husband. See? I told you that you were really kinky."

What I felt then was indescribable: The thinking part of my brain knew I didn't want any of this, but even while that part protested, the rest of my mind agreed that what Lexa was saying was utterly, unchangeably true. I would sit and wait for Becca. We would go home together. I would be a pussy-eater within hours, and whenever Becca kicked me out, I would start trolling for my next stranger sex--the more, the better.

"But what's going to happen to Brian?" I whimpered.

"Sweetie," Lexa said, "don't worry. I'm going home to him. And don't worry--I'm not going to turn him gay. I really want to ride his cock. Although..." She grinned. "Well, when I'm done with him, he'll probably really, really, really like it when a girl pisses in his mouth. Won't you appreciate that?"

"Oh, no..." I crumpled and buried my face in my arms. My emotions were totally at odds with the raging fire burning in my snatch.

Lexa patted me as she rose to go. "Braeden, it's OK," she said. "When I'm done, I might even let the two of you get back together. The only thing is, promise to meet me here every week so I can hear about everything you're doing. I really like having a friend in the city."

Author's note: Thanks for reading this far! If you enjoyed this story, it would sure mean a lot if you dropped a brief note to me at jjj7676@gmail.com. In fact, it would mean a lot to any of the authors you like here or on any similar sites if you dropped them a brief note. It's not so much that we need attention or compensation for our work--it's that it turns us on knowing someone else gets off on our stories as much as we do. Of course, we like the attention and compensation, too.