The Eros Coin: Parts 1 - 5

by Molly Madsin

  Devoid of sperm I staggered backwards and admired my handwork as Jayla continued to be crushed by a tidal wave like climax. Finally, Jayla was spent, too, and she pulled the dong out from between her lips, leaving me to watch a small stream of her clear liquid coming out with it. Her beautiful pink pussy slowly began contracting down to her normal size now that the giant dildo was done pleasing her. She slumped forward and fell flat on her stomach, the vibrator still going strong but now slowly tracing away from her oversensitive clitoris.

  With our fun done, I pulled on my underwear and pants and took one last look at Jayla sprawled out face first on her bed, her ass coated in streaks and dribbles of my white semen. I quietly backed out of the room and remembered to grab my sandwiches before I exited the deli completely.

  In my car again, I called Grandpa – this time he answered – and I told him I would be right over and that dinner was on me. His grumpiness seemed to go away before I hung up the phone and started driving. I was excited to hear more about The Eros Coin.

  *****

  Grandpa greeted me at the door, and ushered me hurriedly into the house, while seemingly looking all around as if I were some wanted convict or something. Grandpa closed the door and before I could even say anything he asked, “SO, what do you think?”

  “Oh my god, Grandpa, what did you give me?” I replied, my eyes wide in excitement.

  The old man nodded in excitement and giddily said, “I told you so.” Then his face turned somber, “But I was serious, it can be dangerous. Do you already understand what it does?”

  “It controls minds,” I answered, “but other than that, I really don’t know.”

  “It controls WEAK minds,” he corrected, “For those who are strong minded it’s not so simple.”

  I sat down and took a bite of my sandwich while he continued, “It’s a temporary mind control, as long as The Coin is in your hands – or at least touching your skin.”

  I nodded my head and listened to him intently.

  “The Eros Coin is thousands of years old and has been passed from person to person within our bloodlines, since before the time of Christ. My father possessed it before me, and before him it belonged to my Great-Grandfather. The stories are legendary, and if you want, I’ll tell you every single one of them.”

  “Please,” I answered as I took another bite of sandwich.

  Before he started the stories he asked another question, “So have you studied the coin at all?”

  “Sort of,” I said, “But I couldn’t read the writing.”

  Grandpa asked for the coin and pulled out a large magnifying glass. He turned The Eros Coin to the winged bird side and read the Latin phrase from memory, “Faber Est Quisque Fotuna Suae...which translates to, every man is the architect of his own fortune.”

  “Nice,” was all I could think to say.

  Grandpa turned the coin over and pointed at the cloud and read it, “Non Ducor Cuco…which is I am not lead; I lead. And the lightning bolt’s words are A Bene Placito or At One’s Pleasure.”

  “Cool,” I replied, feeling like a little kid who didn’t know what to say.

  “Do you remember who Eros was?” Grandpa asked. I thought back to the books on Greek god’s that Grandpa had given me, but I shook my head and blushed, wishing I had actually read those books instead of just looked at the pictures.

  “Eros was the Greek god’s equivalent to Cupid. So he controlled sex, passion, lust and love,” he answered assuming that I hadn’t read the books.

  “Remember everything you do has consequences. So think about it before you do it. Don’t just follow your wishes, you have to use your brain,” he informed me, grabbing at my shoulders and looking me in the eye as he did.

  “I know Grandpa, I promise to use it wisely,” I agreed, thinking back over the last 24 hours.

  “More things that I know… You can’t control people from long distance or over the phone. You must be able to see them for them to follow your suggestions. You can’t change people’s minds if the desire wasn’t already there in the first place. Meaning, that if a girl hates Vanilla ice cream, you can’t convince her that Vanilla ice cream is good. She’ll only eat Vanilla if she already liked it or had the idea to try it sometime in the past. Does that make sense?” He asked, as he winked at me for using a PG-rated example.

  “Yes, Grandpa, I get it,” I grinned back.

  “Lastly, you can’t make people fall in love with you. The Eros Coin controls the mind not the heart. So passion and lust, but not love. Got it?” he asked emphatically, as if that one stung a little.

  “Yes, I do,” I answered back. “Hey,” suddenly remembering a question that came to me earlier, “What do the people that were controlled remember?”

  He smiled and said, “Good question. From what I can tell, most people remember it like a really vivid dream. Some people remember it just like it happened; only they believe that they were the ones making all the decisions. To them, they were in complete command of their minds. A few others don’t remember anything. Whether they repress it or their mind blocks it from them, I don’t know, I just know that it’s like it never happened.”

  A long, “Ahhh” of understanding combined with a long head nod, confirmed I understood what he was talking about.

  “Remember, The Coin only works on the weak minded. If you try to force your desires on someone who is head strong, not only will it not work, but it could back fire. It’s never happened to me, but I’ve heard stories…” Grandpa sounded ominous and I dared not ask him to explain it.

  “So, Grandpa, do you remember the first time you used it?” I asked with a sly grin.

  “Oh yeah I do,” he answered, his mind and voice seemed far away. “It was almost 50 years ago. I was dating Nelly Parker – this was a few years before I had met your Grandma, god rest her soul,” he paused for a long time, before he continued.

  “Where was I? Oh yeah, Nelly Parker. That girl was stacked. Anyway, Nelly and I were sitting in my car and starting to fool around and that’s when I picked up The Coin…” Grandpa’s face was flushed as he recounted the story in his own head, but left me guessing on the details; which was just as well. I didn’t need to hear about my Grandpa’s sex life.

  I spent the next several hours listening to more of Grandpa’s PG-13 rated stories and about the history of The Coin. By the time he was finished it was well past his bedtime, so I decided to let him get to sleep. I thanked him once again for The Coin and promised him I would use is wisely before I left him for the night.

  On my way home I decided I wanted to test the powers a little further. So I asked called my friend Alan to see if he wanted to hang out. Alan hesitated for a moment, before admitting that while he really wanted to hang out, his girlfriend, Trish wouldn’t let him leave the house. I had an idea, so I invited myself over and hung up the phone before Alan could think better of it.

  Five minutes later, I was arriving at Alan’s apartment with a 6-pack of beer in hand. Alan greeted me at the door like a whipped puppy, head down, tail between his legs and I could see why. Trish was standing behind him, scowling at me. I smiled at her, but all I got was a dirty look and a loud, “Hmpf.”

  Perfect, I thought, let’s see how great I can make Alan’s night.

  I pushed past Alan and plopped down on the couch popping open a couple of beers as I changed the channel from “Say Yes to the Dress,” to “Sportscenter.” Again Trish just shot me a dirty look and walked out of the room.

  “Alan, buddy, you are about to have the best night of your life,” I promised.

  He shook his head while I continued, “What do you always wish Trish would do but never does?”

  “Well, I love it when she makes Lemon Cheesecake but she never does any more,” he answered, his thoughts clearly on food and not sex.

  “No, buddy, think bigger,” I laughed. Alan just stood there, his little brain working overtime as he tried to come up with something.

  “Ok, how about this?” I
leaned in and whispered quietly, “Do you wish she would give you blow jobs? Or swallow? Or talk dirty?”

  “Oh…sex fantasy…” he offered back as the lightbulb finally came on. “I’m good with blow jobs, and yes, she usually swallows, and no, her dirty talk sounds more like orders than it sounds sexy…”

  “So then what do you want?” I asked, sounding a little bit agitated.

  “Titty fuck!” he blurted out, as if a vision had finally come to him. “She has these tits that were made to have a dick between them but she’s never let me, even though I practically beg every weekend.”

  “Perfect,” I exclaimed, “Tonight is your lucky night.”

  With The Eros Coin in hand, I called out to Trish, “Hey Trish will you come in here?”

  “What do you want?” she asked, spitefully yelling at me from the other room.

  But as I thought about what I wanted Trish to do, her demeanor changed completely and she practically skipped into the room where Alan and I were. Then she proceeded to pull off her T-shirt and unhook her bra and before either Alan or I could say another word, Trish’s tits were on display for us to see.

  Alan was right, Trish did have fabulous boobs; something I had never noticed since she was always acting like a bitch and because she wore oversized sweaters all the time. They were larger, probably a 36D, but not huge like the bosomy vixen from the bar last night. Still, they were very firm, with just a small hint of sag but there wouldn’t be a guy alive that could stop looking at her bare tits even if their life depended on it. Her nipples were very average, maybe a little small considering the size of her breasts, but they were a nice bubblegum pink and now, exposed to the cool air, they were extended out pretty far.

  With The Eros Coin warming at my command, Trish – her warm, hazel eyes glazed over – went over to Alan and asked, “Will you please fuck my titties…sir?” Alan looked like he just won the lottery, I could tell he was a little nervous with me around, but even that wasn’t about to stop him. He started to pull her into the bedroom, but with my silent objections, they stopped in their tracks and instead Trish lay back on the couch.

  My friend, quickly dropped his sweatpants displaying a nice, hard cock that looked ready for action. With no further ado, Alan mounted his girlfriend’s breasts and proceeded to stroke his cock between the valley of her glorious mounds over and over again.

  Trish, her mind under my control, followed my suggestions perfectly. First she pushed her pillows together, giving him a perfect place to hump. Then, on his upstroke she started to wet his cock tip with licks and sucks, giving him ample lubrication to continue fucking her tits at greater speeds. Of course, he really didn’t need it, as almost instantly he began smearing copious amounts of pre-cum over her cleavage. Next she began to tease him with dirty talk; “Oh fuck, your dick feels so good between my tits,” and “I want you to cover my boobies with your cum.”

  Before long, Alan was moaning that he was about to come. Trish continued to edge him along, with quick licks and begging him to come. One final beg did it and with a groan that could have woken the neighbors, Alan began to spurt, covering her milky white globes with what looked like a month’s worth of semen. Trish moaned her approval as geyser after gooey geyser rained down all over her chest and neck, leaving her a white sticky mess.

  Satisfied, Alan staggered out of the room in search of a towel or something to clean his girlfriend up with. As he left the room, I shuffled forward, The warm Eros Coin in one hand, my hard cock in the other. Trish leaned back, opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue, for someone I had never thought much of, she looked incredibly sexy now.

  After just a few strokes, I started to come, plastering her upturned mouth and wanting tongue with another batch of warm seed. As the last of my cum clung to the tip of my cock, Trish closed her lips around my shaft and sucked out the remainder, swallowing every bit of what I had given her. I had to actually back away to get my cock back as the wanton woman began trying to suck me back to life.

  Tucking my cock back into my pants, I sat down on an armchair and waited for Alan to return with the cleaning towel. As he proceeded to blot and clean his sperm from her still heaving chest, I patted him on the back and told him I would call him tomorrow. And I left the apartment almost as quickly as I had entered it.

  With The Eros Coin in hand, I went in search of my next good deed.

  The Eros Coin

  Part 5

  The next morning, I woke up early and decided to go for a jog. I nearly took The Eros Coin; instead I locked it up safely in my room. The jog was uneventful until I was just a few houses away. My perpetually pissed neighbor, Mr. Oliver, saw me running by and called out to me, “Hey Morris!” I hated that he called me by my last name, but he was the stereotypical ex-jock: loud, brash, cocky for no good reason. I hated him, almost as much as he hated me. Still, I stopped and gave him the guy head nod.

  “Your cat keeps coming into my yard,” he informed me, “get him under control…or else,” he threatened. What the fuck, I thought. But instead of arguing with him, I gave him a thumbs-up and jogged away. As I grumbled to myself the rest of the way home, I began thinking about Mr. Oliver and what a simple minded, dick he was. Thank god, for his sweet wife, Wendy, otherwise he’d be a complete pariah. And that’s when I got an idea.

  I went home, showered and got dressed. I was just about to leave when I remembered the most important thing, The Eros Coin. With The Coin in my pocket, I strolled down the street, whistling while I walked until I came up to Mr. Oliver still working on his beat up Camaro in the driveway. He looked up from the engine and spoke, “What do you want Morris?”

  “Nothing,” I replied as I strolled past him and went up to the front door, “I’m here to see your wife.” I rang the doorbell and waited, while Mr. Oliver grabbed a towel to clean his dirty hands and took a few steps my way. The door opened and Mrs. Oliver, Wendy, greeted me sweetly, her southern accent on full display.

  “Hiya, Mikey, long time, no see.” She looked as good as ever. Wendy was no doubt a trophy wife to that douche bag of a husband. She couldn’t have been older then her mid-30s while her husband was easily 20 years older than her. Still, she didn’t look a day over 25, her perfectly tanned skin was smooth and wrinkle free. Her bleached blonde hair was long and wavy. She had perfect, doctor enhanced boobs, a slim belly with a nice subtle curve to her hips. Her ass was divine – a lovely bubble shape to it – but it was small and tight. Everyone I knew had always lusted over her, especially the younger guys on the block. As young teenagers we always made sure to ride our bikes really slow when she was out working in the yard, usually dressed in a short halter top and her tight Daisy Duke shorts.

  “Hi, Mrs. Oliver, it’s great to see you again,” I said confidently, doing nothing to hide my desire to undress her with my eyes.

  She blushed cutely, as my eyes continued to roam all over her. She was dressed in a simple knee-length sundress without a bra (her firm silicon breasts had no trouble defying gravity) and her glass cutting nipples were jutting out invitingly. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, looking as perfectly combed as ever, while her baby blue eyes blinked at me, curious of my intentions.

  She always wore a great deal of make-up even when she was just sitting around the house, and today was no exception. Her long lashes were heavy with mascara, and the light blue eye shadow was obvious with each blink. She wore a little blush, but I figured that most of the redness in her cheeks was due to the embarrassment of me raping her with my eyes and not just too much rouge. Her lips were coated in a thick layer of gloss and I had no trouble imaging them pressed against mine.

  “Come in, Mikey,” she encouraged, as my hand reached into my pocket and found The Eros Coin. I could feel Mr. Oliver lurking behind me, but I stepped in the entry of their house, closing and locking the door behind me, surely driving the bastard crazy.

  Subliminally I suggested what I wanted from Mrs. Oliver and she didn’t disappoint. With a very lad
y like elegance, she sat down on the couch and began to disrobe, as if I weren’t even in the room. She unsnapped her wedge sandals and put them on the side of the couch. Her dainty hands reached around behind her and casually untied the small belt that looped around her waist. Then as if she were getting ready for bed, she stood up and wiggled free of the thin shoulder straps before shimming free of her sundress and letting it drop in a heap at her feet. Then, dressed in just her tiny red thong, she looked at me, blushing, and did a couple pirouettes.

  “Ya’all like?” she shyly asked.

  “Oh Wendy, you’re breathtaking,” I answered honestly. Her fake boobs stood out proudly, capped with the sharpest looking nipples I have ever seen. Whoever that doctor was, he created a masterpiece, I thought. As she spun around I had an even better view of her ass and it was lovely, high and tight just as I had imagined and like her breasts, no tan lines.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” she suggested, grasping me by the hand and leading me to her bedroom. With my eyes focused on her ass, I watched as she gracefully climbed the stairs one by one.

  At about this time, I heard the back door open and Matt Oliver enter the house, but neither Wendy nor I paid him any mind as we had more important things about to happen.

  Entering her bedroom, I directed her to remove her thong and climb on the bed. With a simple hooking of her thumbs into the waistband and sliding then down her long, lean legs, Wendy was officially completely naked. She climbed on the bed and spread her legs waiting for my inspection. With the speed of a sprinter I shucked off my clothes and jumped on the huge four poster bed to join her.