deepernow:Saw your post about the inspiration. for this picture how about a dad is hypnotized when
deepernow: Saw your post about the inspiration. for this picture how about a dad is hypnotized when he watches a tv station? (Let’s do it!) Three days on-call came to an end and Adam Wick got his chance to sit down. It was in the staff kitchen, of course, in front of the TV that still worked off tubes but, this late in the game, he’d take what he could get. His son Chris and Chris’s friend Tanner would be here in a bit for lunch. He hadn’t the time to be picky. He pulled his chair screeching over the floor until he could sit in it and put his feet up upon the table. Then, with a jab of his thumb and the dull buzz of the TV, the screen flickered to life. And he was met with static. He mashed Channel Up, and found more static. The first curse left his mouth like an explosion, until he reminded himself that his coworkers sat in their cubicles outside. The rest followed in a trickle. He punished the remote and watched as the screen shifted into more static. Click. Static. Click. Static. One final click and he gasped as he caught a brief flash of an image before white noise took over. He flicked back the old channel and saw it again - just in that moment between heartbeats - before white and black danced in chaos. He scowled. Again, he flicked, and he caught a glimpse of skin, of nipple, of arched stomach. He flushed. The white noise droned on and on in his ears as he fought off a childish giggle. They had those channels here? Or, rather, whatever antiquated cable company they had no longer bothered to manage these sort of things. That infantile rush carried him back and forth between the channels, catching silent sighs and flashes of hips thrusting. But, like all things, that lost its luster and he put the remote back down with a sigh. He resigned himself to the white noise. If nothing else, it was better than silence. His three days caught up with him. That soft bzzzzz in his ears made it easy to stare off into nothing and doze. He caught himself nodding off. His vision went black for halt a heartbeat and that alone was cue for him to snap back to the waking world. Until, of course, they threatened to fall shut again. As he roused himself from another blink, he swore he saw the television flash back to its scene. He glanced at it. White fuzz. He was daydreaming, most likely. Slowly, the lids slipped shut and - there, again - he looked back up. Nothing. Adam grunted his confusion. Sleep came. He saw the flash again, a mouth opened in ecstasy, two rods rubbing, grinding, needing. But this time, it was much closer. The white noise thrummed in his ears. He blinked rapidly, each time seeing more and more of what the TV had prophesied. Bodies, writhing. Cocks, jutting. Hands, searching. His head bobbed as he teetered there on the edge of sleep until out of exhaustion he let it fall backwards over the back of the chair. His eyes pointed to the ceiling, but they saw nothing except the eternity of their blinks. The noise was so loud, the scenes so close, Adam swore he could hear them, feel them, around him. As the man’s hands fell limp over the arms of the chair, he could vow to any higher power that someone’s hands slithered into his pants. They wound around his cock and freed it. They stroked it and whispered into his ear where their words joined the din and embedded themselves deeper with every blink. His world was a stuttered orgy, a train of infinite pleasures locked in a moment between blanks. The only constants across them were the din and the growing need in his cock. More voices, closer, familiar, dripped into his ears. His eyes stayed shut for longer now. He lived among the dream. He felt every touch, every sigh, every slick bend in pleasure building in his groin. The mouth already hanging open uttered a guttural sound somewhere between a roar and a whine and with four great thrusts, Adam spilled his seed along the length of his chest and the crest of his chin. In the waking world, Tanner wiped his hand clean along the hard length of Adam’s cock. He reached for the remote and clicked off the television. Adam was deep enough now that the twists and turns of his own mind would keep him well within the mental orgy. For now, however, Tanner slid down the zipper of his pants. A man needed a mouth, and he’d just trained himself a new one. -- source link
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