My Fondest Memory Pt 01

My Fondest Memory

Part 1 of 4

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Within the realm of erotica, there's an entire subgenre devoted to mind control. It is typically told from the perspective of someone who possesses a magic potion, an incantation, or a medical device that compels hapless victims to submit. Usually, the victims don't even realize they are being victimized.

How would one of these stories look from the perspective of someone who doesn't know her mind has been hijacked?

Meet Sheila Friendman, a happy, carefree young woman living a placid existence. Then along comes Ron Stevenson, who changes everything. This story is told by Sheila, who explains what happens when her consent is stolen so skillfully she doesn't even recognize that it's gone.

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When I was in college, my freshman composition professor assigned our class to write a memoir. He said it was important to be honest because good memoirs tell the truth. I'm going to do my best to be honest in this memoir, so I want to admit in advance that some of these recollections are incomplete. For reasons I can't explain, there are a lot of blank spots in my memory.

I've told my boyfriend Ron about these lapses. He said they aren't important, and that I shouldn't worry about them.

My professor explained that memoirs are supposed to describe memories. Important memories. I have a lot of nice memories and very few bad ones, but my fondest memory is from the day I met Ron. Everything changed when he entered my life. Before I met Ron, I never imagined it was possible to feel so happy, so satisfied, and so loved. It seems almost unnatural.

I'll begin by explaining that my name is Sheila Friedman, I work as a pharmaceutical sales rep, and I thought I was a happy woman before I met Ron. My parents are wonderful, caring people who did everything possible to give me a good childhood. They loved me and provided every advantage a kid could want or need. I had plenty of friends. My youth was remarkably free of trauma and pain.

I was blessed with a good brain, and I was particularly lucky in the looks department. I am tall, with long blond hair, deep blue eyes, and a photogenic face and body. I earned scholarship money by competing in beauty contests. Before I graduated high school I won the titles of Miss Maple Syrup Festival, Miss Pro Football Hall of Fame, Miss Pumpkin Days, and Miss Teen Athletics.

My career as a beauty queen got more serious in college, when I competed in bigger pageants. I won a lot of money and titles, including Miss Ohio USA. That victory sent me to the Miss USA pageant. I didn't win, but I placed first in the swimsuit competition, which helped me get jobs as a model.

This may not seem to have much to do with how I met my boyfriend, but you need to understand that my history as a beauty queen is how I got my job as a drug sales rep. I was recruited for the job because drug companies believe pretty girls have an advantage when it comes to convincing doctors to prescribe their products. They like to hire cheerleaders, too.

It sounds sexist - and it is - but I suspect it's true. I'm sure many male doctors are more willing to meet with me because I'm attractive. I believe it helps me convince them to use the drugs I promote.

Lots of doctors asked me out on dates, and I sometimes accepted. I was unattached after I split from my college boyfriend, and I looked for a replacement among the handsome young physicians I encountered. What girl doesn't want to date a doctor, right? After shopping around for a while, I decided that Dr. Sam Thompson was a good choice. He was tall, handsome, made a lot of money, and was good in bed.

Sam's a few years older - I'm 23, he's 34 - but I liked that because it meant he was more established in his career and he'd paid off his student loans. He'd reached the stage of his life where he wanted to have fun, and I wanted to help him do that.

But Sam isn't my boyfriend anymore. What I've written so far is what you need to know to understand the real story, which began when Ron Stevenson entered my life. Things changed fast after that. It felt very natural at the time, but as I look back I'm surprised by how quickly I dumped Sam and took up with Ron.

I met Ron at a reception held at the hospital where Sam worked. Sam thought it was good for his career to be seen with a beautiful girlfriend on his arm. I saw the reception as an opportunity to find people who might be interested in hearing a sales pitch for the drugs I sold. I had just finished handing out one of my business cards when a man I didn't know walked up to me.

"Aren't you Sam's girlfriend?" he asked. "Sam is a friend of mine. He asked me to show you something."

He introduced himself as Ron Stevenson, and he asked me to follow him to a nearby office where he had some equipment he thought I should see. I had some vague notion that he wanted to show me something relevant to my job.

"This is just a prototype," Ron said, handing me a viewer with two eyepieces like the ones you find on a medical microscope. "Take a look through this and tell me what you see."

I looked through the eyepieces. "I see bright, swirling colors," I said. For reasons I can't explain, I don't remember much more. I know I looked for a while, and I vaguely remember hearing Ron's voice, although I can't remember what he said.

I felt confused when I finally looked up. "What was that?" I asked. "What did I just see?"

"It's not important," Ron said. "Don't think about it. What's important is how you feel. What's going through your mind right now?"

My mind was confused, but as I tried to gather my thoughts, I realized that Ron was an extremely attractive man. I hadn't noticed anything unusual about him until that moment. I'd considered him to be about average in the looks department. Suddenly, I recognized he was the sexiest-looking man I'd ever met.

Looking at him made my heart beat faster. My knees were weak. I couldn't think clearly enough to answer his question.

"I know what you're feeling," Ron said. "You're thinking that you like me, and you're hoping I like you. Is that right?"

My throat was so dry it was hard to speak. I just nodded.

"Sheila, don't worry. I think you are the most attractive woman I've ever met. Sam tells me you're smart, and funny, and nice to have around. I hope we can spend some time together. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

I nodded again. At that moment, there was nothing I wanted more than for Ron to take me in his arms. "Let's go somewhere we can talk privately," Ron said. "I'll drive us to my place. We can talk there. Come with me."

Ron took my hand and I followed him to the hospital parking deck. I remember thinking it was odd that I was leaving Sam behind and going off with a man I'd just met, but the harder I tried to think about it, the easier it was to ignore. I kept getting distracted whenever I glanced at Ron and saw how sexy he looked.

Ron's car was nice. It must have cost a lot of money. But I didn't care much, because I couldn't stop thinking about how attractive he was. I vaguely remember that he made small talk during the short drive to his apartment, but I couldn't hold up my end of the conversation because I got so flustered every time I looked at his gorgeous face.

The thing I remember best is that after a few minutes, Ron put his hand on my knee. It aroused me so much that I swooned. His hand was warm, and it seemed that heat from his hand began to spread up my leg. Soon that warmth reached my pussy, which throbbed with arousal. I thought it was strange for me to have feelings like that for a man I just met, but I couldn't help it. I wanted Ron to hurry up and take me home.

I'm not sure how long it took to get to his house. My memory is that he opened my door, led me to his home, and smiled warmly when we went inside.

"Thanks for coming over, Sheila. It means a lot to me," he said, taking my coat. "I think I'd like some cold water. Would you like something to drink?"

"Water would be nice," I said. He led me to his sofa. I liked his home. It was large and comfortable, and decorated with beautiful works of art. I realized that Ron must earn a lot of money to afford such a nice house.

He returned with two bottles of water and two wine goblets. "I think water tastes better when you drink it from a fancy glass," he said as he filled our cups. Something about what he said and the way he said it sounded very suave and witty.

As I re-read the words I just typed, Ron's comment doesn't seem as sophisticated as it sounded at the time. Maybe you had to be there. It made me like him even more.

Ron leaned back and gave me a head-to-toe look. It felt like he was deciding if I was cute enough for him. I wanted to be cute enough. I never wanted anything more.

"Sheila, you are so beautiful it's breathtaking. I'm sure you've heard that before, but I want you to hear it from me. You should know that I hold you in very high regard. Nothing would please me more than if we could spend time together in the future. A lot of time together."

Hearing that he wanted me was an enormous relief. "Thank you," I said. "I like you, too."

We chatted for a few minutes, and I can't remember much of what we said because I was so distracted by his constant, focused gaze. It felt like I was being caressed by his eyes.

My pussy was throbbing again. I'd never felt anything like this before. It had been going on long enough that I realized I wanted Ron to take me to his bedroom, strip off my clothes, and have sex all night long.

I couldn't wait any longer. I had to tell him how I felt.

"Ron, you are being a perfect gentleman," I said. "I appreciate you treating me like a lady. But I don't feel much like a lady right now. I'm finished talking. I'd rather do something else if it's all right with you. I hope you feel the same way."

He flashed that suave, sophisticated smile. "I feel the same. I'm so glad this is about to happen." He stood up, reached for my hand, and led me to his bedroom. I thought about the fact that I was about to have sex with a man I'd just met, and it made me question my behavior.

Why am I acting like a slut?

I asked myself.

I'm in a committed relationship with Sam. Why did I ditch him at the reception to go home with a stranger? What kind of woman does that?

I knew why I did it. I felt a magnetic attraction to Ron, and I couldn't resist that attraction. I'd met my soulmate. I was aching to begin a relationship that I felt sure would last forever.

When we got to the bedroom Ron took me in his arms and kissed me. It was a soft, delicate kiss, but it made me feel like I'd been struck by lightning. He kissed me again, and again, and as he kept doing it his kisses became more passionate. I moaned when I felt his tongue on my lips, then moaned again when my tongue found his. I would have fallen to the floor if he hadn't held me in his arms.

I gradually realized Ron was removing my clothes. He did it with a smooth, assured confidence that I found to be very masculine. I barely noticed he was unbuttoning my blouse, but he got my attention when he pushed it off my shoulders and let it fall to the floor. Slowly, he eased one bra strap down, then the other. My hands moved on their own as I reached behind my back and unhooked the bra, which slipped down my arms and exposed my breasts to Ron's eyes, hands, and lips.

I've always known how much men like my breasts. I'm a natural D-cup, with perky boobs that sit high on my chest. It's rare to find such nice, firm boobs on women who haven't had implants, and I was anxious to see Ron's reaction. His hands wandered gently across one breast, then the other. The first time he caressed one of my nipples I shivered with excitement.

Being with Ron felt different from being with other men. I've been told I'm beautiful for my whole life. I've got trophies from beauty pageants, and I've seen the way men look at me. Men clamor for the chance to be with me, and on the rare occasions that I decide to be intimate with a man, I take the attitude that he needs to prove himself worthy. When I allow a man to see me naked, I expect him to go to great lengths to express his gratitude.

For some reason, I didn't feel that way with Ron. Instead, I felt I needed to go to great lengths to prove MY gratitude! I shuddered with arousal when he bent down and sucked a nipple between his lips, and I was happy that it seemed to confirm he was pleased with me. But for some reason, that wasn't enough. I longed to hear him say that I pleased him. The seconds ticked by without a word. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you like what you see?" I asked.

Ron released my nipple, stood up straight, and looked into my eyes. "Of course I do, Sheila. You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met. Being with you makes me feel like the luckiest man in the world."

It's hard to describe how elated I felt when he said those words. It seemed that somehow Ron knew exactly what I wanted to hear. It reminded me of the way I felt when I was a child and my parents praised me for being a good little girl.

I wondered why I was so hungry for Ron's approval, but I couldn't focus on the idea. His hands began roaming down my back, and I gasped when I felt them caress my ass.

I couldn't resist the temptation to press my belly against his body, and I was happy to discover that he was hard. I rubbed him from side to side, loving that his cock felt like steel wrapped in something warm and yielding. Ron sighed happily. He unzipped my skirt, removed it, then pushed my panties down my legs. Standing there naked made my desire burn hotter.

My hands trembled as I unbuttoned his shirt. He had to remove his pants because my fingers were too unsteady to unbuckle his belt. When I saw his cock for the first time, I felt the urge to suck it into my mouth. That was odd because I didn't enjoy giving men blowjobs. I did it sometimes because I like it when they eat my pussy, and I think it's only fair that I return the favor, but it isn't something that gives me any pleasure.

It seemed I'd suddenly changed my mind. I dropped to my knees and sucked the head of Ron's cock between my lips. I discovered that I loved the way it tasted. I loved how it felt in my mouth. I realized that I wanted to make him climax so I could swallow his cum - something I'd never wanted from any man.

It wasn't going to happen. Ron allowed me to suck his cock for a bit, then he grabbed me by the shoulders and lifted me up. "Get on the bed," he whispered. "Lie down."

I wanted to do whatever he desired, so I got on my back as he stretched out beside me. He got up on one elbow and ran one hand over my body as he admired me. "You are a marvel, Sheila," Ron said. "You look exquisite."

Exquisite.

That's what he called me. No one can ever appreciate how wonderful that word made me feel. My need for Ron's praise was almost as strong as my desire for his cock. It was an unusual feeling I'd never experienced before. I'd never needed a man for validation.

Ron's hand slowly wandered south, and eventually he reached my pussy. My legs spread wide with no conscious effort on my part. He massaged my outer lips, then slipped a finger inside my hot, wet slit. My pussy had been throbbing since the drive to Ron's apartment, and I felt embarrassed that I was so wet. I didn't want him to think I was some slutty bitch in heat, but it turned out that I had nothing to worry about.

"I love that you're dripping wet," Ron said. "It's very sexy."

"I've never been this excited before," I said.

Reaching down, I wrapped my fingers around his cock, which was warm and very, very hard. I was prepared to do whatever Ron wanted, but I hoped he wouldn't make me wait too long before we had sex. I didn't need any foreplay. What I needed was to feel him inside me.

Then he touched my clit. It felt as sudden and powerful as an electric shock. Without warning, I had an orgasm. That surprised me.

I should explain that I consider myself lucky because I climax fairly easily. I almost always have an orgasm during sex, and it's usually forceful enough to be satisfying. However, I'd never climaxed so quickly before, and it worried me. I'm not the kind of woman who can have multiple orgasms. With me, I'm a one-and-done kind of girl. I was sure I'd enjoy having sex with Ron, but I was disappointed because I wanted my climax to happen while Ron's cock was inside me.

Ron removed his hand, got on top of me, and put his cock at the entrance to my pussy. He paused long enough for me to wish he'd stop waiting.

"Thank you for coming to bed with me," he said. "I'm grateful."

Those words sent waves of pleasure from my head to my toes.

"I'm so happy to be here with you," I said. "I love everything you're doing."

He kissed me. It was a deep, passionate kiss that left me breathless. He did it again, and again, and soon I was gasping uncontrollably.

Just give me your dick!

I thought to myself.

Just give it to me! I want it now!

I was almost frantic by the time Ron finally pushed the tip of his cock inside my pussy. It wasn't nearly deep enough, but it was a start. After a brief moment, he withdrew, then pressed inside a tiny bit more. He withdrew, went a little deeper, and I felt an overwhelming mix of emotions ranging from excitement to frustration. I wanted so much more than he was giving me, but he ignored my urgings to shove his wonderful cock all the way inside.

There was nothing I could do but beg.

"Please. Please. Ron, please give me your cock,"

I said softly.

"I need it all. I need it now."

What I said made no difference. Ron continued to push deeper and deeper with agonizing slowness. I felt powerless as he forced me to endure his plodding pace. I could barely stand being teased like this. Ron's cock was about halfway inside when he decided to surprise me. He pulled out, paused, then shocked me by shoving his cock all the way into my pussy.

What happened next was so unexpected I still remember being overwhelmed with surprise. I climaxed. Again! For the first time in my life, a man found a way to take me to bed and give me more than one orgasm. And it was no ordinary orgasm! This was a powerful, lasting, overwhelming climax that made every muscle in my body clench, unclench, and clench again.

I screamed as the sensations exploded all through me. I screamed again as I felt my pussy contract over and over around Ron's fat cock. I wrapped my arms and legs around his body and hugged him as tight as I could.

I'd already decided that Ron was the sexiest man I'd ever met. Now I realized he was also the best lover. Maybe the reason I came a second time was because of that endless teasing when he withheld his cock. Maybe it was because of the confident way he lured me to his home, eased me out of my clothes, and handled my body like it was his personal property. Whatever he was doing, I wanted him to continue.

By now Ron was easing his cock in and out like a slow, gentle, loving partner. This was the kind of sex I usually enjoyed, but I enjoyed it a lot more with Ron. His motions were familiar, but my reaction was new. My pussy never felt happier than it did at that moment. I'd never felt such a powerful urge to surrender to a man, submitting to him in all ways. I'd never felt more grateful to a man for the way he was treating me. I savored the overwhelming feeling of arousal.

I climaxed. Again! This orgasm wasn't as powerful as the first two, but it was as joyfully sensuous as it was unexpected.

How is Ron doing this?

I asked myself. I've read about multi-orgasmic women, and I've always envied their capacity to enjoy something I'd never experienced. There was something about Ron that transformed me into a multi-orgasmic woman! I don't know what it's like to win an Olympic medal, or make a touchdown in the Superbowl, but I'm sure what I felt right then was at least that exciting.