Controlled Celeb 8: Teri Hatcher

Controlled Celeb: Teri Hatcher
Anynom

It was a warm day in L.A., so Teri Hatcher figured she’d spend a little
more time indoors. It
was a nice caf‚, air-conditioned with tables spread out so conversations
didn’t
intermingle. It
was popular for meetings in Tinseltown and also with the young Generation
X
types. Teri sat
quietly at a table, sipping at her coffee. She wore a loose-fitting shirt
with a
skirt and was
enjoying a little down time in between projects.
Her
attention was caught by a man who sat down at her table. "Hello,
Teri,"
he said. "I’m
Peter, I’m a huge fan."
"Um, well thanks." Teri was slightly taken aback by the way Peter just
appeared at her
seat. "Do you want an autograph?"
"Actually, I wanted to show you something." Peter reached into his pocket
and pulled out
his dependable watch. He began to lightly swing it from side to side,
pleased to
see Teri already
following it with her gaze. "It’s a favorite of mine," the dark-haired
handsome
man explained. "I
like the way it shines as the light hits it, shines as it swings. Swing
and
shine, back and forth,
back and forth, the shining drawing your eyes to it. You can’t help but
watch it
swing, back and
forth, back and forth, in front of your eyes, flashing all the way. Flash,
flash, swing, swing, back
and forth, back and forth, it’s very relaxing, don’t you find it relaxing,
Teri?"
"Yes," Teri said softly. Her facial muscles had relaxed and her eyes were
glued to the
swinging watch.
"Yes, very relaxing, Teri. So relaxing, it feels like sleep. That’s what
it
rather feels like,
sleep. A nice, sleepy state, coming over you, you feel sleepy as you watch
it,
sleepy, Teri, you
feel so very, very sleepy. Close your eyes. Just close your eyes and go to
sleep. A nice, peaceful,
deep sleep." Teri’s eyes sank shut and her head sank onto her chest.
"Listen
carefully Teri,"
Peter said. "I am about to give you some very important instructions…"

Teri was happy that her apartment was so cool when she finally returned to
it. She wiped
at the sweat that had begun to stain her shirt. Before she could kick off
her
shoes, her phone
rang. She picked it up with a quick "Hello?" The sound of chimes came over
the
line and Teri’s
eyes instantly glazed over as the post-hypnotic suggestion sent her right
back
into a trance. Her
normal thoughts were gone, replaced by decisions on what to wear when her
master
arrived.

Peter knocked on the apartment door, adjusting the collar on his shirt,
loosening it up a
little more. His shirt and pants felt hot but that was all right. He
wasn’t
planning on wearing
them for long.
The door opened to reveal Teri standing on the other side. Her face was
blank and she
wore a dark satin gown with a nice dip in the cleavage. Peter entered,
pushing
her inside. He led
her to the bedroom and quickly stripped himself. He stood before her and
hooked
his fingers
under the straps of the gown. He lifted them up and slowly lowered them.
He
smiled at the sight
of her breasts. "Seinfeld" had been right: They were real and they were m
agnificent. He pulled
the gown off the rest of the way and embraced her, kissing her long and
slow.
She responded
slowly as well, her tongue working its way into his mouth.
He entered her still standing, his cock diving into her pussy. She moaned
as he began to
work himself in and out of her. They pushed against one another, Peter
working
his cock up and
down in a motion to please her as much as he could. He picked her up and
collapsed onto the
bed, rolling around, finally coming with her on top. She rocked back and
forth
on top of him, her
breasts bouncing as she gyrated. He cupped them in his hands, squeezing
them,
pinching the
nipples. He pulled her close to him with each forward motion and grunted
as she
squeezed her
thighs against his cock. She arched back as she came, releasing herself
totally
upon him. She
finally collapsed on top of him, her breasts right over his face.
Peter began to lick at her tits as his hands squeezed her ass. Teri was a
great find. She
was definitely going to keep him occupied for a while. Oh, well, Peter had
nothing better to do.
Nothing better at all.

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