The next morning when I wake up and I find myself not able to move or see anything. I start calling out to my wife and no one responds. I hear some mu...ic, but no one is there. After about 30 min which felt like 2 hours I hear the door open and I say " Baby what is going on why am I like this?" She doesn't say anything and keeps moving around the bedroom. I say did you not hear me? She responded "I hear you but I am not going to answer". Once again I ask why I am like this, and she responded. He ran a hand through his short hair."Mrs. Goodall has a great ass," I muttered, stroking my pussy-coated dick. Her juices made my cock so slick and...I could fuck her asshole. I could do anything I wanted to Mrs. Goodall, to any guy's mom. I could enjoy any woman I wanted however I wanted."Mrs. Goodall love to take it up the ass, too," I commanded. A slight tingle raced across my mind. I did not know how it worked but I could implant thoughts and commands into other people's minds. For one. A mere few seconds away from discovery, the panic was slowly being replaced by a feeling of glee as I thought about just how close we were to getting caught. This must be how exhibitionists feel when they fuck in changing rooms, I thought. Then I realized that this was the same elation I'd felt when I'd gotten some sexy little student or other to spread her legs for me on my desk; not just the pleasure of fucking some tight young pussy, but the thrill of knowing that anyone could come knocking. Despite the quality of the music, throughout the entire set, their daughter sat there with a sullen look on her face. Typical petulant teenager I thought.The Specials finished their set with the classic Ghost Town and the whole field, except the sullen daughter, were up on their feet cheering. Next up was Neil Young, strange choice of headlining on the main stage, but Bob was a fan, so we were going to stay around and listen to the old man. The cider drinking youngsters headed off, probably to.