The apartment wasn’t great, but transitions generally never were. His house, well his old house, it was going to take Grant a while before he was used to that, was sold, and his new one wasn’t ready yet, so this was it.

An apartment, and by not ready yet, he realized his new home was a year away from completion, a year.

But, that had been the plan before his life changed, or fell apart, or sprained its ankle, or he started this new transition, whatever you wanted to call it.

No matter how he put it, here he was, his new apartment.

Close to work, far from quiet, it was like being in his early 20s again, and even though his living situation was beneath his station, it was about where the nostalgic part of him wanted to be.

That was the thing with transitions, they tended to shake a lot loose, and sometimes your dumb emotional brain would latch on to the wrong things, so you didn’t spend all your time worrying about the right things.

Old job, new house, new title, old car, old problems, new faces, that had become his life, that was his world, the universe of a 35 year old man, newly single but with the same old fears of being alone, of being rejected, and having to settle.

But, transitions were temporary, otherwise they weren’t transitions.

There was a knock on his door.

“Hi,” she was shortish, young, like early 20s young, dark skinned… maybe Middle Eastern, no… maybe Indian? Half Indian?, had shortish dark hair, black rimmed nerd glasses… that’s what they were, nerd glasses, a pretty smile, deep brown eyes, and the body of a hot girl in her early 20s, “I’m Sam, I live in the unit next to yours, I wanted to come over and say hi.”

She was kind of awkward, hot body or no, and Grant did not feel super great about eye-banging what he guessed was a college senior. He could tell she was not naturally social, or more like not naturally used to talking to strangers.

He put on one of his work smiles, sincere and direct but grounded in manners without losing too much charm, and he offered his hand, “Hi Sam, I’m Grant. Here to warn me about your party?”

She looked a little flustered, and he realized maybe her glasses told him all he really needed to know about her, “No, uh, hah, no, I’m not really a partier, I just wanted to say hi. Well, hi, so I guess…”

Grant laughed a little and realized the poor girl probably felt like she was drowning out there, then it dawned on him, he was a well put together, handsome older man, and when that light came on in his head he almost wanted to blush, “Yeah, no of course you’re not. But, the landlord didn’t really give me a straight answer, does this place get loud?”

He saw the physical relief on her face, “A little, sometimes, but the walls and the floors are thick, and it’s still quieter than the dorms, so, I don’t know.”

“Are you still in school?” He was trying to use his client voice, the one where you get to know the people you work with, but not do that whole ‘real friends’ thing.

She seemed to get a little more shy when he asked, and he wondered if her not making eye contact was an autism spectrum thing, or if she was just nervous. He was pretty sure it was nervous, but who knows, turns out these days it could be both?

“Yeah”, she was wearing jeans and a white T-shirt, and he accidently noticed that her bra was darker, maybe black, maybe purple, he was trying really hard to not make things more weird. “I’m a, well I decided to switch majors so now I’m a fifth year senior.”

He laughed, “Half the guys I work with were 6^th year seniors, and not because they changed majors.”

It was weird, his alpha male brain had decided he needed to make this girl feel not nervous? Comfortable? He didn’t know for sure, but it was something. “What’s your new major?”

She pushed up her glasses, she actually pushed up her glasses, and he noticed she had a small stud in her left nostril. “Psychology.”

Her body language was pretty closed off and when she spoke, she shifted a little more than she had been before.

“I know, it’s a dumb major and people leave it when they’re this far along, not switch to it, but I just like it. It was my minor.” It was a sales pitch to cover her own personal embarrassment, and it was the first time he heard a little bit of an accent.

“Are you Indian?” Grant was smiling, as much to himself as to her and the rest of the world. He didn’t quite know how he’d found himself in this strange hallway conversation, or why they were still talking, but this was just how it went with new neighbors.

“Half, “ she smiled and looked down, not really making eye contact, “on my mother’s side. My accent comes out a little when I’m nervous.”

“It’s really hard to notice. Did you grow up there or…”

She shook her head, “No, I grew up here, but my mother spoke Hindi with me, and her family and the accent just came from that.” She shuffled her feet again slightly, but she managed to make eye contact with him. “What do you do?”

“I, “ now it was his turn to be embraced because he knew how college kids felt about his job, “work in finance.”

She laughed, she laughed like someone genuinely laughing at a fart, “And you live here?”

She had him there.

“Yeah well, let’s just say I also changed majors, and living here seemed better than living in a hotel or renting a house for a year out in the suburbs.” His own private shame, his guarded inner disappointments started to cloud over then, but he kept his work smile on.

“I’m sorry, that was rude.” He made eye contact with her and he saw the clarity of her honey brown eyes and some kind of relief in her face.

“Well, I’m the next one down if you ever need anything, or if you know where the good parties are.”

She smiled, turned and took 3 steps before she was at her own door. He found himself watching her go, and found himself shaking his head as he admired her ass.

Also, she’d made a joke, and not one of those weird ones that people that were really socially awkward made that always bombed.

It was Tuesday, Grant had been in his place for less than a week, and thanks to a moving company and the things that made his home a “home” being in storage, he almost felt moved in. But, with work it wasn’t a project he’d be able to tackle all at once.

There was a knock on his door.

“Hi Sam, “ he hadn’t seen her since the other day “what can I do for you?”

She sucked on her lower lip slightly and he could feel the nervous energy coming off of her as she forced herself to make eye contact and smile, “I have an idea for an independent project I have to do, and I would like your help with it if you can.”

She was wearing a teal tank top that was more of a mini-dress than a shirt and black leggings, and had a gold hoop bracelet around each wrist. Her honeys brown eyes appeared larger, like wide dark pools under her black-framed nerd glasses.

He couldn’t help but think of them that way; that was what they were.

“What is,” he didn’t want to be rude, but he also didn’t want to get involved in anything really, anything at all past working and unpacking, “I mean, what do you need, what are you doing?”

He saw her thinking, actually saw her trying to remember her script, her sales pitch, and he almost agreed just then so the poor girl wouldn’t have to go through all this. “You said you work in finance, do you consider it a stressful job?”

He wanted to laugh, but he could see the way she was positioned, narrowly balanced on the edge of confidence, and he knew it could be dangerous to even chuckle. He admired her effort. “Yeah, it is pretty high-demand some days.”

“And did you know that according to some very recent studies, Tuesday is the most stressful day of the week?” He felt like at any minute she was going to ask him to save the children, the whales, the trees, subscribe to a magazine, or buy cookies.

Also, every day was the most stressful day of the week depending on the job and the schedule.

He knew he was playing a part, and he also knew he was trying very hard to keep eye contact with her. The tank top was a little plunging and something had dawned on him in a terrible sort of way.

He’d forgotten what real life large breasts really looked like.

He’d been single for long enough that porn had made a real big return into his sex life and the girls there were, well they were super porn-y, and he’d forgotten that a real full C-cup really stuck out.

Grant just wished it wasn’t a realization that came while he was trying not to mentally undress his socially awkward neighbor that was at least 13 years his junior.

Whatever he wanted to think wasn’t helping with what he was thinking.

“I’ve heard studies similar to that. Why do you ask?” His real question was are you a large C, or maybe small D?

“Would you say,” he saw that she was locked into her sales pitch and she couldn’t adjust the script to answer him, it was just how some people were when they were learning to do these sorts of presentations, “that you handle your stress well?”

Just stay in the parameters of the conversation and eventually you’ll stop eye-banging your neighbor.

“I do alright, I take pretty good care of myself. Is this a stress test thing, or an interview, or a survey kind of deal? “ He was trying to put out an inviting energy, a positive and open body language to help her feel comfortable with saying and asking everything.

“We’re covering stress and stressors and relaxation functions, and if you would let me, I would like to study the way you respond to relaxation exercises. We all have to explore a psychological concept or practice in the real world and when we talked it gave me this idea.”

“So, you show me some breathing exercises and some yoga and?”

“Oh, no, no yoga. No, I don’t know any yoga really, yoga is a western conceptual invention that co-opts…” she stopped herself and he was watching with something akin to an anthropologist’s interest when he wasn’t casting brief looks down her top and hating himself for it. “I’m sorry, being, well Indian, any time someone says yoga, it’s like a Pavlovian response. No, I mean, breathing exercises, mindful meditation and guided visualization to help the body and the mind process your stressors.”

“How long would this take. I mean, I’m not trying to be rude, and you’re nice, but I don’t have a ton of time and I don’t want you to depend on me for your academic success. Also, you know you don’t really know me right? I could be a weirdo or a creep.”

He saw the slow crawl of terrible realization make its way across her face.

“But don’t worry, I’m not a creep.” He tried to laugh it off, but the damage had been done, and he started to feel a bit more like an ass.

“That is something a creep would say though isn’t it?” He watched as she dug up some sort of high-minded intellectual confidence and then smiled at him. “But, I know creeps, there is no greater centralized population of creeps than in college boys. Besides, you’re not a Game of Thrones villain, you wouldn’t warn me about yourself in some arch tone, I can see you’re a grown man, and a decent man.”

Now grant had to laugh, “Nope, I’m not Littlefinger. But, are you really that good a judge of character?”

She smiled, “Why wouldn’t I be? You’re decent, you’re polite, you have honest micro-expressions and even though your body language is deliberate, it isn’t condescending, and you are respectful.”

“Micro-expressions?” He was pretty sure he’d heard about that on a cop show.

“Yes, the fine body language components of the face that constitute a wide array of non-verbal cues and modes of communication. But,” again she pushed up her almost comically oversized glasses, or well just large nerd glasses, “to answer your question, all I would need is three thirty minute sessions and a short follow up interview with you at a later time, and perhaps for you to verify your participation with my professor via a phone call, nothing too time consuming, nothing more than that.”

He noticed that she started to become more confident and more relaxed when she spoke in jargon and babble, then became more self-aware as she ran out of terms and definitions.

She was, there was no other way to put it, a little odd. She also clearly had no idea how attractive she was, and he hoped she hadn’t paid attention to any of his micro-expressions of checking her out.

Then, he felt even more guilty and the words just fell out of his mouth, ‘Yeah, I can help you with that, that’s not a big deal at all.”

She smiled an awkward and self-congratulatory smile, “I believe, since you’ve just come home from work and are still probably feeling the stress of the day, right now would be the best time to have a session, if you are free.”

Grant shrugged, he’d just eaten, and even if he wasn’t still a little amped from work, all of this had put him a little on edge. “Yeah, you know, now’s as good a time as any I guess.”

She was beaming, “Wonderful, I’ll go get my notes and be right back.”

He shook his head as he watched her leave, once again feeling his eyes roaming to her tight ass, half covered by her top but mostly on full display in those leggings, as she made the short distance to her door.

In a blink she was back with a spiral bound notepad and a pen, “We should go inside for this. Do you have a couch and a chair? If you don’t, we can do this at my apartment, but you will likely feel more relaxed here, so we should do these exercises here if we can.”

She was systematic in her speech and he could tell she’d game-planned this part as well. At least she was thorough, it actually helped explain a little bit of her weirdness; he’d noticed that some socially stilted people were like that because they were always trying to say too much at once.

“I have both a couch and a chair,” he smiled and made a wide gesture with his arm, “please come inside.”

He was in the doorway so he had to move first, and he was a little surprised when she closed the door after them.

He’d done a lot with a little to make this place feel nice, as nice as a half unpacked temporary lodging could be. He walked over to his couch and sat down, “Choose any chair you’d like. I’m the one that’s supposed to be on the couch right?”

He laughed.

She took one of his plain wooden kitchen table chairs and brought it over to him.

She looked puzzled.

“Sorry, I…” well, who gave a fuck why not tell her, “my ex used to get on me all the time about seeing a therapist.” He smiled, and saw her continue to look both stern and slightly confused.

“You know I’m not a therapist right? I’m just a student and this isn’t psychoanalysis.” She paused. She smiled a deep and wide smile, one made wholly of shame and not mirth. “I get it. I’m sorry, this is not a great way to start.”

She broke eye contact with him and was looking down at her notebook.

“No, it’s alright. You’re very literal aren’t you?” He, from their angles, couldn’t help but look down her top again. How could someone that was so hot be such… oh, she probably didn’t get hot till college. It happened, he’d seen it, and he continued to feel too old to be admiring her the way he’d just been doing.

“I suppose I am, that’s a very accurate way to describe me sometimes, yes. Now, “ she looked up from her notebook and made eye contact with him “this may feel somewhat unnerving or invasive, but for me to measure your responses I am going to have to study your eyes, including eye movement dilation and your tendency to close them. Having not done this before, I have been told that it may help you to help me, if you keep eye contact with me, but you do not have to.”

Her eyes were sharp, that was the thing about them, they cut into you. They were also rich and felt like they should be warmer than they were. The honey brown color of her eyes seemed like it should be more inviting, and maybe if he didn’t know her at all, at first sight they would be.

“Do you have any questions before we begin?”

There really was no trace of her accent at all. The little bit he’d heard had crept up around the edges of her voice, and ever since, he’d been half-heartedly seeing if he could notice it. He couldn’t.

“No, I’m good. Just follow the exercises you walk me through? Just do the things the way you say them, stuff like that?”

“Those are two questions, and the answer to both is yes.” It was hard to tell, he realized, if her weirdness made her seem kind of like a bitch, but then he thought about all her awkward moments, and her little moments of social victory, and he realized she wasn’t good with people.

Man, with her looks, that had to be hard.

“Relaxation is an interesting sensation,” she was making very focused eye contact with him now and it did not seem conducive to her project’s goals but Grant blew it off as part of her questionable social skills, “if I tell you to relax, or tell you to try and relax, you become aware of it and attempt to deliberately maintain something that is a result of other behaviors.”

She inched her chair slightly closer, then crossed one leg over the other, ankle over the knee, “It is like going to sleep, when you realize you cannot sleep and you think about not being able to sleep, it is an endless process of failure. So, instead of thinking of the end goal, we will go through the steps, and measure their impact separately.”

Unbidden, he let himself get a little more comfortable and he caught her smile, “That’s very good, that is a very good place to start. Now, as I speak, I would like you to do two separate activities. One will be to listen and engaging in what I say, the other will be to put more emphasis on your breathing, more awareness on your breath. We will start with this.”

Her voice had fallen into the same certain and mechanical tone he’d noticed she was most comfortable communicating in, and he took a moment to regulate his breathing like he did at the gym. A meaningful breath in, then pushing it all the way out. He did this a few times and couldn’t help but watch her watching him.

She had her notebook in her lap and made a few quick notes, only breaking eye contact to write. “Now, as you continue to focus on your breathing just as you are doing, think about a time when you were very relaxed. Think about a singular moment, an isolated moment when you were by yourself and very relaxed.”

He could tell she was fully locked into her mental script, “Maybe it was a vacation, an afternoon nap, or a shower.”

There was something that was charming about how awkward she was and how she was trying to seem casual and engaging but she was really just reading aloud for all intents and purposes, “Find that moment, that one singular moment and hold it in your mind.”

Despite her disposition, the sound of her voice wasn’t harsh or stilted and if she was more confident, or more practiced having regular conversations it might even be a little compelling or melodic.

“You are not following these steps now are you?” She tilted her head sideways slightly, almost like a bird, and those honey brown eyes narrowed, not with any sort of malice but with a measured curiosity.

Grant laughed, “Sorry, just settling in.”

“No need to apologize, it is helpful to see your responses. It is like gauging a lie detector test…” She trailed off then broke eye contact again to write a few more notes, and Grant started to think about “Sometimes I carry on, I realize this.”

Grant smiled again, and looked back in his memory to the last time he felt relaxed. It was uncomfortable for him to realize that the last year of his life had been one long stressful endeavor.

“You’re troubled by something aren’t you Grant?” She was watching him again, keeping eye contact, but now in a surprisingly sympathetic way. “If it is easier, please do not close your eyes, but let yourself imagine a quiet afternoon now. See your life as peaceful, understand that you have nothing to do, no work projects, nothing requiring your attention around the home, only a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction at being done with everything. Try this.”

He did, and he found that as he did so, as he continued to pay attention to his breathing, he felt a physical shift in his shoulders, then in the back of his head. He hadn’t meant to, but he’d started to use her eyes as an anchor point.

“Now, to help you personally, and to help us with this process in the future it would be good to remember this moment, create this memory of how you feel now.”

It wasn’t a bad idea actually.

He looked into her honey brown eyes, took a deep breath in and out, and let the feeling sink into his muscles, his bones, and then into his mind and memory.

“If, when I ask you now, or in the future I ask you to remember relaxation, this moment you are feeling now, the sense of lightness you have felt in your body and in your mind, this is the moment it would be easiest for you to recall, yes?” He took another deep breath in, then out.

“Yes, this is pretty relaxing strangely enough.” He let out a little chuckle when he realized she’d helped him to almost instantly take a load off.

Sam smiled in a puzzled way, and again her eyes took on an inquisitive squint, “Are you unaware that deep breathing is the easiest way to ease tension, and that by being mindful of your breathing and your thoughts you can, well, you can feel the way you’re feeling now?”

“I’ve never really thought about it like that.” He took another deep breath as they both kept deliberate eye contact. ‘What’s next?”

“We are going to practice this feeling.” She leaned forward slightly and the little bounce of her breasts passed just at the edge of his field of vision. It was the first time he’d noticed her chest since they’d started the exercise.

She’d managed to pull his focus to her eyes and her voice entirely.

“I would like you to breathe in deep and remember relaxation,” she stayed looking into his eyes, and also raised her hand up, “and forget stress as you breathe out. Remember relaxation, forget stress.”

She repeated this process several more times, and on the last time, as her hand moved down, Grant felt his eyes close on their own.

“You’re feeling very relaxed now yes?” Her voice sounded like it was coming from further away, like it was passing through a gentle filter and had become much more pleasant to listen to.

“Yes.” He did, so much so that it was hard to get he words out.

“We have made very good progress, now for me to fully understand how you are feeling, I will need you to address me by my name., do you understand, yes?”

That sounded reasonable.

“Yes, Sam, I understand.” He felt like there was a veil between his mind and his body, it was nice.

“That is very good, but my name is not Sam, my name is Samaira and you know this now, yes?” He was about to tell her he didn’t know her full name, but this made it easier.

“Yes, Samaira.” It felt like a reasonable thing to say, this was a formal process, it made sense to be formal. Those thoughts fell into place, as a reflection of her tone.

“I’m glad we understand each other, it will help me be clear in my notes. Now please Grant, open your eyes for me and stay just as relaxed and calm as you are now. You will do this for me, yes?”

“Yes, Samaira.” He felt his eyes open on cue, and she was smiling.

Her face was soft, glowing, and he felt like all the noise in his world had been quieted down, muted really, turned off.

“You have been very helpful and are very relaxed now. Remember relaxation and forget stress, keep your eyes open, remember relaxation and forget stress.”

Her hand rose again, and this time as it came down, it came down towards her chest, and his eyes followed her fingertips down to her cleavage.

“Feel what comes naturally as you remember relaxation and forget stress, there is no reason to decide or act, simply respond as you do remember and you do forget.”

It felt very natural to stare into her cleavage, so he did.

The thoughts of the age difference, of his ex, of his job, of everything else, it was all gone. “Remember relaxation, feel what comes naturally, and forget stress, stress is worry, stress is resistance and tension, stress is decision, forget stress.”

His eyes rested on her cleavage, and he couldn’t tell if she had shifted her top, but it seemed like he was seeing more of her breasts.

“I am going to leave now, and it would be very good yes, to let yourself continue to feel what comes naturally, and to feel what feels good yes, so you will continue to remember relaxation and forget stress, yes?”

He didn’t say anything as she leaned in a little closer.

“You will do what comes naturally, feel what comes naturally, and you will remember relaxation and you will forget stress, yes?”

She was wearing a cream colored bra, he’d seen the straps, now he could see the cups, plain and simple as her tank top hung off her shoulders and her chest as she leaned in to whisper in his ear, “Say yes Samaira.”

It sent a shiver down his spine that felt almost as good as the one he got when he replied.

“Yes Samaira.”

She smiled, but he was only looking at cleavage, “Thank you for your help Grant.”

His fingers were around his cock as soon as the door shut, and he was asleep with a sticky mess on his hand soon after.

It had been what came naturally and easily, and there was no sense of tension or resistance in him to halt or filter those feelings.

There was a knock on his door.

It was Friday, and Grant had spent the last few days few days mainly overwhelmed with work, then overwhelmed trying to unpack, and also being underwhelmed with his own discipline when it came to how many times he’d fantasized about the girl next door.

It was a little awkward to see her, but it wasn’t a surprise.

She had her hair up in a little ponytail, had changed her nose stud out for a small golden ring, still had those giant glasses, was wearing black capris leggings, and a black long sleeved something-like-a-very-thin-sweatshirt-maybe-but-with-no-collar, that seemed somehow conservative and managed to show too much cleavage all at once.

She had her notebook in hand as well, but he missed that because his eyes were just naturally and automatically drawn to her chest.

“Hello Grant, do you have some time to remember relaxation and forget stress?” When she spoke, she made hard eye contact with him and that pulled his focus back up to her face, and honestly, it sounded like a wonderful idea.

It almost felt like he’d been waiting for this opportunity given how his body jumped to it.

“Yeah, yeah, that would be nice.” He felt good, or at least, the idea of having a little help decompressing after such a long week, even if it was from the girl he’d been feeling guilty about masturbating to, really felt wonderful and enticing.

“Why don’t you go sit down on the couch, in the same place please for continuity, and start to focus on your breathing while you remember relaxation and forget your stress.”

She seemed a little more confident this time around, and Grant felt happy for her. Things seemed less rehearsed or prepared. Maybe it was an issue of Sam, no that’s right it was Samaira in this process, being comfortable or maybe that it was because they were in a controlled environment with a clear purpose.

As he sat down, he closed his eyes, “Sam, does you full name mean anything? I don’t want to sound ignorant but, it seems like only English names don’t have a meaning.”

“No, no Grant, please keep your eyes open for me now.” He’d closed his eyes, in part to avoid staring too long or too hard at her as she brought over the same chair she had sat in before. She followed up with a little laugh, “And my name is just a name, no different than yours really. Now, open those eyes.”

“Yeah, sorry,” her energy was so different, she didn’t feel closed off or uncomfortable at all, but she still seemed more than a little awkward. “You know, it’s easier for me to visualize and remember when I close my eyes.”

She scooted her chair a little closer, essentially just into the edge of his personal space, and her top’s lack of collar caused it to drop down over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, what you say is true,” she was looking deep into his eyes, and he found himself staring once more into her honey brown depths, slightly oversized and seemingly all consuming from the size of her glasses. “You may find that as we reproduce the environment, including your focal points, and it will be easy for you to visualize and to assist me.”

She was right, looking into her eyes like this, breathing deep and slow, focusing on her was already helping him to feel remarkably looser and almost profoundly calm.

“Grant, you can recall easily the moment of relaxation you felt, you can remember relaxation very easily and you can forget stress just as easily too.” She didn’t move her hand this time, and she had a very measured look of approval, something not quite a smile.

“You can remember relaxation and forget stress, yes?” He couldn’t tell if her voice was lighter, or if the warmth and the peace of mind that was washing over him just made her seem softer.

“Yes, Samaira.” He realized he could, and he did, and just like that he felt the veil descend again.

It was nice, he felt himself smile, and his next breath out felt like dropping a heavy weight he’d been carrying. He wanted to close his eyes, but he could tell he should keep looking into hers.

“That is very good Grant, you’re doing very well and you are an excellent help, thank you so much, thank you again. Let that sense of accomplishment, the feeling of meaningful contribution help you to remember relaxation more clearly, and forget stress more easily. Yes, remember relaxation and forget stress, remember and forget, but do not close your eyes for me yes?”

“Yes Samaira,“ everything around the edges of his vision had become softer, like looking into a peephole through a wall of shadows and mist.

“I would like you to understand how the relaxation you have achieved is helping you, and will help you, and you would like to listen and understand too, yes?” As she spoke, he watched her subconsciously adjust her top and the result seemed to be her accidently pulling her neck line as far down as it could go.

“Yes Samaira.”

He didn’t say anything more because he knew it wasn’t intentional, and deciding to say something required too much intention, and that sort of mental commitment seemed so stressful.

“That is very good. Relaxation is a state of pleasure for the body and mind, it tells the body and the mind that there is no danger and there is no need for worry and concern, it is a primal response, to lower one’s guard and open one’s self, and you feel this.”

She held up her hand to stop him from answering, “Yes, I know you do, there is no need to answer, simply listen. Stress, the human awareness of the self, the world around the self, one’s obligations, the nature of one’s cares, is not an unhealthy thing when managed well, but it can be all consuming. Stress is a tension in the mind and body, it is a resistance to danger, and as there is no danger here is there, there is no danger here, you can now feel safe to remember pleasure, and forget resistance.”

His eyes had fallen down to her chest at some point while she was speaking, and they remained there. He was far enough away from himself, feeling too warm, too loose and calm, docile really, to bother to try and look anywhere else. It was, after all, what she had told him to do, to forget stress, to forget resistance, and he had done just that.

“A person, such as you Grant, can find that they can relax with another person that they trust, such as myself yes, and they can feel the ease of remembering the pleasure of relaxation, and forgetting the resistance of stress whenever they, we, are together, yes, you agree?”

She had developed a real cadence to her voice that was faster and smoother, more self-assured and certain than he’d ever heard her before, and the sound of her voice was just as gentle even though it was full of deliberate purpose.

“Yes, Samaira.” What she said did make sense, and since it did make sense, he realized in a cloudy and sweet way that he did trust her.

“There are certain things that will come naturally and easily for a person, you, to do and feel when they are with someone they trust, me, and these things will happen easily and automatically, they are natural, instinctual, and when you do these things, you will remember pleasure and you will forget resistance, you will remember and forget yes?”

“Yes Samaira,” In that moment it felt like his eyes were exactly where they were supposed to be. Her cleavage was deep, and her chest looked a bit bigger, and his smile became more of a broad grin.

“When you do these things, these things that come naturally, things I would want you to do, things I do want you to do, that you want to do yes, they will strengthen your trust in me, and my trust in you. When you feel this trust it becomes easy to remember pleasure and forget resistance, whenever you do these things that come so naturally, you will remember pleasure and forget resistance yes?”

“Yes Samaira.” What she was saying really made sense to him, it was so simple, so direct, and felt so purely human and natural.

He watched as she stood up, his eyes stayed on her chest though he couldn’t look down her top anymore.

“And just as there are things you will do easily and automatically, there are things I would want to do as well, and things that I will do automatically too. If, for example, as you are doing what comes naturally,” she leaned forward, her hands on either side of his head, cleavage in his face, “I felt the urge to ask you for something, a favor you would do for a friend, to help someone so much, you would do this, yes?”

“Yes Samaira.” As his vision was filled with deep cleavage and dark skin, he felt his cock reach full stiffness. It had started to grow almost as soon as she said pleasure the first time, as soon as his mind intuited permission to stare as part of his relaxation, and now it was at full throb.

“If I were to ask you now, to give me something, you would not wonder what, you would not ask why, you would do this for me wouldn’t you Grant? Yes?”

She arched her body slightly, bringing her breasts almost up to his face, close enough to lick, to kiss, if he stuck out his tongue or craned his neck, both of which were beyond his faculties.

“Yes Samaira.” He felt a little throb of heat, but was unaware of the small pool of darkness spreading on his pants from the tip of his cock.

“This is very good Grant, and I want to give you something you need, something you need very badly yes. But first you will do something very simple, very easy. Take of your pants for me, yes?”

“Yes Samaira, “ left his lips but he didn’t move.

“Remember relaxation, forget stress, remember pleasure, forget resistance, take off your pants now Grant.”

He did, he did so without a word as soon as she took a step back and gave him the room to move.

“Look into my eyes Grant, look into my eyes and remember pleasure and forget resistance.” He looked deep into her honey brown eyes as she knelt between his legs and wrapped her hand around his cock.

“Look into my eyes Grant, now remember pleasure and forget resistance.” She kept firm eye contact with him as she slid her lips around his cock. Her eyes were wide under the lenses of her glasses.

“Yes Samiara” left his lips, followed by his cum leaving his cock shortly after.

He stayed looking deep into those eyes as she swallowed him down.

“Remember pleasure, forget resistance. Remember pleasure Grant, forget resistance, yes?” She wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist as he felt a heaviness spreading through his veins.

Her hand was still around the base of his cock, “Your body has relaxed now, even more than before, so has your mind yes?”

“Yes Samira” escaped like a dreamy sigh.

“You will listen now, simply listen, yes, you will listen Grant, and you will not need to say yes, until I ask you to again. It is easy to remember and forget, it is easy to remember relaxation and forget stress, it is easy to remember pleasure and forget resistance. It is easy also, just as easy as what we have just shared, just as easy as what you have just given me, to remember to forget.”

She gave his cock a tender stroke with just her fingertips, a tease that was enough to play on his intense post climax sensitivities and start to bring the blood back.

“It is easy to remember to forget when you are this relaxed with pleasure, when your mind is so empty of stress and resistance. You will remember to forget, remember to forget now Grant, say yes, yes? Remember to forget.”

“Yes Samaira.” There was no need to remember anything since there was no stress, no need to make decisions or recall anything precise or specific.

She ran her tongue along the underside of his shaft and didn’t say a word.

She started to massage his balls with the most delicate of care without a word.

She started to take him in her mouth again, and her eyes told him to look deeper than ever before, and she started to suck once more, and as she took his full length in her, she snapped her fingers, once, twice, then three times, and the fog cleared from Grant’s eyes and his mind, jarred by the sudden sound.

“Sam, you’re…” She slid up and down, not stopping, not slowing down, even as he took her head in his hands.

It felt too good to do more than that, too good to stop her, the pleasure was almost unbearable.

Grant watched the younger woman continue to work his cock, her eyes locked on his, and he felt powerless, like she’d taken away his status in their relationship.

“Do what comes Naturally Grant,“ her voice was teasing in the brief moment she could speak before she went back to work.

He couldn’t even hold her head very long, his arms fell to his sides and then closed his eyes.

Then, the pleasure stopped, “No, you mustn’t close your eyes, you know better, that is not what is truly natural for you.”

He opened them again, and found her honey brown eyes behind those thick black framed glasses staring into his, and he knew she was right. His reward was her hand stroking him as she traced circles around the head of his cock.

“Remember pleasure and forget resistance now Grant. Say yes. Say yes until you can speak no longer.”

Those words pulled down the curtain once more and he said “Yes Samira” over and over until the world was gone, and only her eyes remained.

Then, in a rush of pure bliss he fell into sleep.

“Hey Sam,” Grant felt dirty, he felt shitty, and he was standing outside her door this time.

He’d been thinking about her, the way she’d moved over his body like a spider on its web, its prey cocooned, but still felt that it was his fault. He was older, he was wiser, he was the authority, and she was barely an adult in his eyes.

She looked surprised to see him, and even though it was the early evening it looked like she was still in her pajamas.

She was wearing checkered pajama pants and a very tight gray t-shirt that was also loose with wear. He couldn’t help but notice her nipples, and as he did, his eyes became glued to that sight.   

“Please, please do come in,” she motioned for him to come inside and it was a relief. Her living room was nice, love seat, couch, a couple chairs in the dining area, a few bookshelves, TV, laptop, about what he’d expected.

“I, I’m sorry. I feel like I really took advantage of you the other day, and you shouldn’t be involved with guys like me, I’m too old for you and, I know older guys seem better than…”

“Perhaps you should do what comes naturally Grant.” His eyes dropped from hers and it had been a struggle to make eye contact in the first place. She of course had her nerdy glasses on, down to her chest. “And perhaps you should remember relaxation and forget stress.”

He felt his body slump slightly, and she came up very close to him, then kissed him.

“Is this not better Grant?” She had her hand between his legs.

“Yes Sa…” he stopped himself and looked up into her eyes, “I don’t, I mean, this isn’t what comes naturally for me. You’re too young.”

“I’m not too young for what I want,“ her hand was still between his legs, “and you would like to give it to me. Thank you, by the way, for paying my next three months rent, that was very kind of you.”

“I’m glad I could help, you really should be focused on…” He blinked again, shook his head, and realized he’d done it. More so, he realized it had made him feel good. Somewhere in the back of his mind there was a recollection of the process, but it was vague, and the last thing he wanted to do was resist the trust he felt for…

“Did you fu…”

She kissed him again and didn’t let him finish. “No, after our last session, we spoke, and you volunteered that you wanted to help me. I simply asked if you would like to help me in any way, if you were grateful for the relaxation, and you offered. I made sure to ask if it was because of the sex, and you honestly said no. You are just very kind, and generous.”

“Now,” she took off her top “do what comes naturally, remember pleasure and forget resistance.” She put her hands on his shoulders and pushed him to his knees.

“It is natural for you to give without question, to do things for me when I ask yes? You will give me what I want yes?” She was massaging his temples, her voice was certain, in control.

“Yes Samaira.” The shamed part of him, the worried part of him, the part of himself that knew control, and knew authority, that was resistant and defiant, had been forgotten just as she had asked him to.

“Ask me what I want Grant, ask me what I want.” She continued her massage.

“What do you want?” He felt like he was floating along, like he was playing a part in a show, and it was so freeing, so wonderfully freeing and relaxing.

“What does who want Grant?” Her touch was just as gentle even though her voice had become slightly harder.

“What do you want Samaira?” He was staring at her breasts, her nipples were swollen, and more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

“I want you to teach me a lesson Grant, will you teach me what I want to learn?” Her voice had become pleading, almost mockingly enticing, almost cruel. “Ask me what you can teach me.”

“What can I teach you Samaia?” His world was her breasts and her voice, staring and following were what came naturally, what came automatically.

“Teach me how a powerful man becomes weak and helpless.”

With that, he melted at her feet, his mind blown, his body hers.

As she stripped naked and pulled out his cock, she whispered in his ear, “You asked me what my name means?”

He didn’t respond, he only moaned as she rubbed her clit with the head of his cock. “My name, is Enchanting. Samaira is enchanting yes? Say yes.”

He did.

Grant,

Thank you for assisting my student in her project. Samaira is a very diligent student and I am very impressed with the scope of her work in the realm of hypnosis, and your willingness to assist as a subject.. Hypnosis is a powerful tool and can have many lasting and profound effects. Do not hesitate to reach out to me with any questions you may have.

-Dr. Andrea Armstrong.