My Friend's Subconscious

Leslie and I were sitting criss cross on the floor in our usual spot, under the shade in the back of the abandoned music building. It was at the back of the campus, far away from any active buildings. She was really cute, and really sexy. It drove me nuts. Tan skin, almost double D breasts that had grown from their original 'C' cup size she had a few weeks ago, due to birth control she had started taking. Wide hips, small waist, and a perfect bubble butt highlighted by her leggings. Short brown hair with dark orange highlights and glasses. She was wearing a cute sleeveless sweater over an undershirt. She was, anyway, the sexiest nerd on campus. She was inherently not sexual though. For as long as I have known her, which is several years, she has never spoken about sex, or boys, or anything. I told her I thought she was sexy once, to which she replied, "Never tell me that again". Now it was worse, because she was married. If I never thought I had a chance with her before, now it's impossible. I didn't mind though. She's a really good friend, and although it pains me just to look at her, she's my best friend.

"So how are your classes so far?" I asked. She sighed loudly.

"Awful, I'm taking 12 classes." My jaw dropped.

"Twelve?!" I asked. "Why?"

"Because I can graduate this semester if I do!" She said. She turned to her backpack and pulled out her binder. She started mindlessly writing or drawing on a blank page, I couldn't tell which. "I need to finish. I just want to be done. I've done 8 before, and that was hard but doable. These classes aren't even all core! Only two or three of them are." She said.

"And here I struggle with 4 classes... only 2 of which are core..." I said. She ripped the page out of her binder without looking and handed it to me.

Dear Tyler,

Hi! I'm Leslie's subconscious. I can talk to you because she's starting to lose her grip on reality. She's having a really hard time, between balancing her relationship, school, and her job. I'm worried about her. I think she needs some extra relief. She'd never admit it, but she's actually a very sexually charged person. She'd also never admit she needs help. I'm going to momentarily take her body over; the only part of her that will still be conscious is her hearing and voice. You and me, we're going to relax her body, treat her to a good time. As I will have her eyes, you just make a motion that you want me to perform with her body, and I'll do it. Thank you!

Love, leslie's subconscious.

I read the whole letter twice, just to make sure I was reading it right. She kept talking about her classes as I was reading. I don't know how she wrote this all without even looking at what she was writing, she was staring at me the whole time... It was kind of unnerving... I looked up at her. "Is this a joke?" I asked.

"What?! Why would I joke about taking 12 classes? I wish I was joking! I..." She kept talking, but I stopped being able to hear her with these... thoughts running around in my head. She doesn't seem to know what I just read... And she wrote this all without looking? That page was definitely blank when she started writing. I guess... I should motion for her body to do something... I went with the easiest, and first thing that came to my mind. I slowly raised my hands to my chest, and squeezed my invisible, pretend boobs. I scratched my chest, just in case I needed to play it off. Leslie raised both of her arms. No. Extended her fingers. No way. And placed them on her breasts. She began squeezing her breasts, and bouncing them up and down, all without even slightly deviating from talking about her classes. I looked her in her eyes. They were completely unfocused, not really looking at anything in particular. I scooted closer to her. She scooted closer to me.

"leslie? Are you feeling okay?" I asked.

"Yeah... I mean, these classes are hard, but I'm okay!" She said, still groping her own tits. There's no way this is really happening. I thought. There has to be a way to prove this is a joke, that she's just a really good actor or something. I don't want to jump too far though, if she IS joking. What would she absolutely never do around me? Or what is something she couldn't normally do? I thought. I puckered up my lips and kissed the air. Leslie leaned forward, placing her hands on either side of me. On all fours, she leaned in close to my face. Holy shit. No fucking wa- Mid sentence, she planted her lips right on mine. Her lips were warm and soft. It felt like a kiss she wanted just as much as I did. When she parted, she immediately picked up where she left off; "Ballet is really just for P.E credits, and it's a breeze, it's honestly kind of -" I puckered up my lips and kissed the air again, but stuck my tongue out this time. She leaned in and met my lips with hers once again. Soft, warm... and wet. She penetrated my mouth with her tongue, and felt every surface of my mouth with it. I hesitantly moved my tongue towards her mouth, still kind of anxious. Once I got there, and I began to really feel her mouth up, I realized the golden opportunity that had been presented to me. We parted, and she continued to talk about ballet. I squeezed my pretend breasts again, and she squeezed her real ones. I was now erect, and wanted to push her further. I wrapped my arms around me and pretended to take off my shirt. She did the same, but actually took her sweater off. She was now only wearing her undershirt, which was tight, and thinner than paper. I could see every curve of her torso. I made the same motion, and she took off her undershirt. She was wearing a sports bra. I acted out taking off a bra, and she proceeded to do so. Her breasts dropped. I squeezed my elbows together, and she did the same. My dick spasmed in my pants. I can't take this anymore. I thought. I stood up. She stood up. I pretended to take off my pants. She slid her yoga pants down, revealing her jiggly bubble butt. Then a thought occurred to me.

I grabbed her arm, and she grabbed mine. I swiftly moved her hand to my non-existent breast, and she, just as quickly, moved my hand to her, squishy, very real, very soft, breast. I felt my face get very red. I moved my hand from her arm up to her hand, and began gently pushing on her fingers. She did the same to my fingers. This feels so fucking good... I thought to myself. I moved my hand slowly down her chest. The feeling of her gentle fingers tracing my torso drove me crazy. Soon my hand was right above her cute, white, lace panties. Her hand was right above my boxers. I began to sweat. Am I really going to do this? I asked myself.

"Tyler!" leslie yelled.

"Ah! What!?" I asked as I yanked my hand away. She yanked her hand away too.

"I asked you a question." She said.

"Oh, uh, sorry, what was the question?" I asked.

"Do you think 12 classes is too much?" She asked.

"Well..." I started. I began moving my hand back to where it just was. She did the same. "I think... 12 is... a number." Our hands were now right where they had previously been. "It's... probably too many classes... but it wouldn't be too many dollars..." I said.

"Why are you talking like that?" She asked.

"Sorry, I spaced out for a moment, can you tell me what classes they all were again? Maybe we can figure out what you need to drop." I said. At this, I dropped my hand down her panties, and she dropped her hand down my boxers. Her hand was on my dick. Her hand is so soft! I thought. I moved her fingers around with my own, making sure to pass my head several times. I pre-came a little, and to my surprise, she squirted a little on to my own hand. I pulled my hand back. I motioned like I was going to take off her panties, and she took off my pants. I did it again, and she pulled down my boxers, and my dick bounced out of them. I then sat back down, and thought about what I wanted her to do. I breathed in and out, slowly. This was a do or die moment. If I don't do it, I'll regret it. If I do it and she breaks out of the trance though... I guess I have to trust her subconscious. First, I moved my hand down to my crotch and made a motion with my fingers. I watched her enter her fingers inside her, and begin masturbating. I moved my hand up to my mouth, and moved my tongue and hand in sync to look like I was receiving oral. Leslie got on her knees, and I laid back.

"I'm also taking psycholo-mph" Her sentence was cut off by her mouth swallowing my dick. She licked it up and down, inside her mouth. Her lips made loud smacking noises as she gripped and regripped with her mouth. Her tongue went over and over my head multiple times, it was like she knew exactly what she needed to do to make me... make me...

Suddenly, she screamed into my dick and got up. "Oh my god what the fuck am I doing?!" She screamed. I couldn't stop, I came all over her bare chest, mouth, and face. Suddenly she began moaning, deep, deep moans. "UhhhONnnuhhhOhhhhnnnmmmmPhhhh... fuck!" She looked down to see herself covered in cum, and her own hand in her panties. She had just orgasmed with me. She laid down on her back, breathing heavily. We both laid there, hearing nothing but cars driving by on the other side of the building, and each other's breathing. "I'm... I'm married!" She said. She sat up and looked at me. I looked back at her. She looked down at herself once again. She touched the cum that had landed on her breast and looked at it sitting on her finger. "What happened...?" She asked.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you." I said.

"Try me." She replied.

"Your subconscious just sucked my dick. She told me you needed a good orgasm." I said. She looked at me like I was crazy for a second. Then she looked like she was thinking.

"Well I don't know if I'd consider my giving you a blowjob a good orgasm." She said, licking her finger. "Fuck me, and fuck me good this time."