NEEHU moment #2: “The Sociology Major”
Reality changed and shifted so naturally I immediately forgot how it had happened, that it had happened.
I looked at the man in front of me and did not really recognize him, although maybe I recognized him a little, and a part of me needed to give him information.
"I don't know you," I said.
"You don't know me?" I couldn't read his expression.
"No," I replied, and something felt so much like sand falling through an hourglass, like I was quickly losing grip of something through my fingers, but had no idea of what it was. "You're making me sort of uncomfortable."
I shifted on my feet and wondered why I had come over to talk to him. Sure, I was drunk. I did always like to talk to new people. But Jesus, how drunk was I?
"What are you doing here?"
"It's a party." I glanced up at him and gave a little half smile to offset my harsh, obvious tone. "Kind of my scene."
Not that I knew what this older guy was doing at a college party... But fuck it. I felt bad that I had sort of zoned out while talking to him. He was kind of creepy, but I felt safe enough. I was in my element.
"Tell me about yourself." He smiled and I sort of rolled my eyes at the cliche.
"I'm a student here."
"What major are you?"
"Sociology." I felt for a moment this stupid little insecurity of fitting the obvious profile -- young college girl interested in social science -- but he didn't seem to bat an eye at it. He was very attentive and I didn't really care who I was getting attention from, but he was very good at giving it, and it sort of made me feel powerful.
We continued to speak and I felt a little less guarded with him, and I was consciously aware of how I was shifting my hips, shifting my eyes. I could flirt. Yeah, I could totally flirt. I could at least lead this guy on a little bit. It's not like I was going home with him.
I felt pretty matched with him, like I was leading us, like I had control of the level of flirtation. He might have been older but he was totally still just a boy, and that confidence felt really good.
I had been sipping my drink this whole time, and maybe I was hitting that point of drunk that I was losing it. The conversation was turning more and more sexual.
"So are you a virgin?" he asked, totally unashamed, and I felt a little part of me freeze up. Things were speeding up, past my slippery grasp, and I was too far in to back out.
"What do you think?" I said as confidently as I could manage, looking him in the eye, waiting, hoping for him to crumble.
"I think you don't want to be a virgin," he said, and I took a sharp breath.
Shit.
I was staring at him. I was turned on. I was scared.
Dimly, drunkenly, I realized I wasn't really in control of this anymore, because I was watching him watch me.
"You can't help but look at me," he said, and it was really just an observation, like he was tentatively feeling cocky but a little bit in awe.
Immediately I broke eye contact and looked down, trying to roll my eyes or something, make some sort of comment.
I couldn't.
I looked back up. His expression had shifted.
"Now you *really* can't look away from me."
What was he doing to me...?
His darker tone made me so hot, and I knew he was doing something to me, although I had no idea what, it was turning me on so deeply that I felt like I really couldn't move my gaze even if I tried.
Was this some sort of fucking hypnotism? Was that even real?
Before I had a chance to think about it, he closed the gap between us and I felt my eyes flutter and start to roll, and I was listening and listening and listening and he was putting something in my drink, and it was going to make me dumber and hornier and happier and I wanted that so my mind just said yes yes yes yes yes
I blinked and suddenly he was a couple steps away from me, and immediately I reached for my cup, as we sat in this space sort of out of time, party raging around us, dull in my ears. I took a sip and felt something besides the warmth of booze, something tingling my head.
He was watching me, and I really liked his attention. It made me smile.
It made me horny. I knew, I knew intellectually that my hips were more open towards him, that I was shifting my weight enticingly, but I was beginning to forget how to manage that, control that.
It felt really good to forget how to control that.
I giggled and looked up at him. He was visibly excited, and the look on his face made me want more.
I began to even forget how to observe my own reactions, just feeling the impulse between my legs start to control the way I licked my lips, bared my neck, touched my hair, breathed heavier.
Everything was tilting and shifting, and probably he was talking to me and probably I was just giggling and smiling at him and my pussy was so fucking wet. The interaction was reaching its peak and I was losing more and more of myself to wanting him, to not caring where I was, to not caring who was around or where he would take me and where he would --
Fuck --
"You know me. Coming back. Coming all the way back."
I gasped in the way that you gasp when someone wakes you suddenly from sleep, from a deep dream. It took no time to recall where I was, really, in a hotel room at a party at NEEHU, and of course who I was with. In an instant, I processed the shame, I processed the arousal, and I threw myself at him, heart pounding, trying to readjust. I lifted my eyes to his, incredulous, and I broke into the most ridiculous grin.
--
@hypnokinkwithmrdream
(This was absurd. It was the most organic thing. There was no suggestion. There was no personality erasure. There was no direction on who to be. There was no direction on me even being someone else. This just happened spontaneously at the tiniest of moments, after trancing. Fuck fuck fuck. I love hypnosis.)
