Tower in Her Pocket

"You mean I have to wait here with you till you've come three times?" I sounded incredulous, I guess. I was remembering Bob, my lover last year, and trying to remember how long it took him by the third time. Of course, then I had liked that slow process, but now I wanted to get this over with.

"You still don't seem to understand. You want to have me here." He was so patient. "You could speed things up, though."

"How?" I asked eagerly.

"Just let your hands keep on doing what they have begun doing." Again, so calm-- about the fact that he had noticed me idly teasing my breasts!

[She leaned forward even close0r to me. I could feel her warmth.]

I was so excited about what was happening that I had started to stimulate myself. I hadn't even noticed it at first, just kind of nervous hand movements-- but they felt so good.

"So that's what it'll take to get this over!" I told myself, and suddenly I felt a delicious feeling of freedom. This must all be a fantasy, anyway, and he hadn't harmed me even though he'd had the opportunity.

I cupped my breasts in my hand, teasing them and teasing him. His eyes grew big as I slowly moved toward him. Another part of him grew big, too.

"There's something you want to show me, isn't there?" I asked him seductively. I was enjoying turning him on.

As I eased closer to him, still out of arm's reach, my right hand slipped down over my belly - I don't work out a lot, but as an engineer I'm out doing field work enough, climbing over or under things - I'm in pretty good shape.

He drew in his breath as my hand slipped over my mount to the wet spot of my panties. He was transfixed as I began to stroke through the silky, soggy material. Without taking his eyes off me, he ripped the blue briefs off his well-shaped butt, and his manhood rose eagerly once more.

Aggressively, he stroked his staff, sliding through the fluid which came quickly to him this time. I lured him on, now drawn by my own hunger to stroke myself from inside the panties.

I had, of course, masturbated plenty of times by this age, and was glad to have explored my own sexuality through it. The only time that matched this, though, for intense sensations though was the night after I first met Bob while we were working on the Bull Creek Project. We had felt a deep connection with each other, and I could sense that both of our bodies were prepared to have sex on that very first night together, but we had held back because it was supposed to be a working relationship. Late that night, as I washed up for bed, an incredible yearning swept over me, and I felt Bob's presence there with me. I caressed myself in front of the mirror, and imagined that he could see me through some kind of lovers' ESP. I lost sight of myself when I felt my back arching in passion, as I envisioned opening myself to Bob's pent-up strength. Much later, as we lay in each other's arms in real life, I confessed this to him and learned that he had also been masturbating at home in front of the mirror, just about the time that I was. How strange and beautiful!

And now, I recognized this feeling again.

"Damn, these things are uncomfortable!" I grabbed at my panties and yanked them off. I had to do it, really. I can't explain it, but they were sooo uncomfortable suddenly.

I swayed temptingly in front of him, spreading my sex lips with the fingers of one hand, while the others first found my opening, and then coaxed my clitoris out to play.

We moved to each other's rhythyms, dancing now without words, our breathing deep, taking in lusty gulps of air. His balls churned powerfully, as his body struggled to be ready again so soon. It was hurting him, I could see, but it felt so good to him, too.

"So..." he panted, having found his voice somewhere an octave down, "you wondered if I could have three women tonight...."

"So far..." I gasped back, "I don't see any results...." I said that in a light voice, floating on the hormonal waves which carried me toward my own climax. It was such a turn-on to see his reactions to me!

I had spoken too soon.

"I think... you are about... to change... my mind..." he roared, and a strong jet of brightly white cum shot into the torrid air between us. A bit of it hit my belly, and before I could stop myself, I touched it with my finger and tasted it.

"Mmmmmm...." I teased. "Seconds are the sweetest, because the first time is really leftover from all the girls you eyed today. This time, you're all mine." Even as this happened, I felt the need for my fingers in my vagina again, and I climaxed. It was the most shattering since that imaginary night with Bob. I felt it work its way through me with no resistance, the wave overcoming every part of me.

His penis drooped lazily this time, and instead of feeling relief, I felt a sudden twinge of regret.

"Will you be able to come a third time, so soon?" I asked. All feelings of apprehension were gone. I wanted to help. Hell, I wanted to have him!

[Heidi leaned back in her chair now, raising her voice without concern. Suddenly, she was the assertive, in-control woman who my former colleague had described. Her posture brought her firmed breasts up attractively, so there was no loss of femininity in this picture.]

Yes, as I realized that this was all in my imagination, I had relaxed, and then I had become a willing and eager participant. I knelt in front of him and held his balls up for my kisses.

"Feeling a bit tired?" I cooed.

"Hmmmmm..." his voice was scratchy, but remained in the octave low which had so enraptured me. "Perhaps you could help me reach that third time sooner than later."

I didn't even say anything, just began kissing and fondling him. Perhaps you'll excuse me glossing over the even more intimate details, and I guess it isn't ladylike to brag, but then what I did wasn't very ladylike.

[She laughed out loud. A guy who had just sat down, a man who I recognized as an Internet sex photo site voyeur in this library, looked up from his copy of the New York Times Book section and glared at us from across the corridor. We were distracting him. I told Heidi who he was, and then she laughed out loud again and stuck out her tongue at him. In a huff, he moved away. Heidi resumed her story.]

I had a copy of the Engineering News Record that I'd brought on the flight to catch up on. I turned and grabbed it off the night table, and used it for modesty as I approached him. I held it coyly in front of my pussy, blocking his view, and turned the pages as if I was reading the glossy magazine.

"Hmmm, the new bridge towers are in place for the suspension bridge at..." I said as seductively as possible. It only took a minute of that. He came closer, and caressed my breasts on each side, letting his hands slide around my back, savoring every part of me. As he tenderly treasured my nipples, I floated into a cloud-- the woman who got an "A" in Calculus the first time around -- and now I couldn't have done simple arithmetic. Nor would I have wanted to. For me now, 1+1 would equal infinity.

This unnamed young man snatched the magazine aside, swept me off my feet, and carried me to the bed. He mounted me like royalty, as if it was his right. I spread myself, wanting him, wanting him, sliding my hands over the shapes of his working muscles. His staff was steel now, and I polished it with more enthusiasm than I had ever shown for housekeeping. I forgot everything, only his coming orgasm meant anything to me.

With the edge of his horniness gone, and his penis yet powerful through my own efforts, he took me into the place where I longed to be. You're a man, so you won't understand, I guess, exactly what that means.

[She was right. Although I had been in the center of some memorable orgasms, on top or below or alongside, there was still much that I had never understood. On the other hand, I don't know how to run a power plant, either, but I enjoy the creative uses for electricity.]

[She sighed as her mind replayed the splintering orgasm which had ripped through her that night.]

I went to sleep with him curled in my arms. We didn't even bother to pull the covers over ourselves. I guess we were too hot anyway. Sometime in the early morning, I felt chilly and woke up.

He was gone. I pulled my wonderfully aching self up off the bed, searched the room, nothing. The door was locked from the inside. His clothes were gone. The carpet was dry! Not a trace of him was left, except for this terrific feeling inside me. Every muscle felt like I had used it over and over and over.

I tried putting my palms together and spreading them apart, but all that happened is that I suddenly had a good picture of the Eifel Tower in my imagination!

I see the question forming on your lips... no, I never have seen him again, even though I've tried that trick in many private moments since.

And, yes, I tried to probe around a bit with Kerri and Jean, but they didn't know anything more than what I told you already.

[She let out a longer sigh-- the sigh of a person tired of something, but of someone who enjoyed the tiredness.]

"What do you think, Professor? You're the expert on the paranormal. Was this some kind of alien experience?" [She laughed nervously.]

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"Heidi," I began, "a lot of times, I don't know what the things mean that I write down. I put the cases in my notebooks, and later on piece them together."

"And in this case?"

"I have a hypothesis as to what might have happened. You know enough about science to know why it'll just have to stay that way for a while." She nodded understanding.

"Have you ever heard of the School for Social Expression?" She had not.

"Actually, it's real name apparently is the School for Sexual Expression. It trains men and a few women, for a handsome fee, to use hypnosis in developing relationships. That could either be on a loving basis, a recreational basis, or a downright dangerous basis. I'm still chipping around the edges of learning about the place, but your Reynard sounds like someone who might be a graduate, or perhaps is a wannabee."

"But how does that relate to what happened to me?" Heidi looked puzzled.

"Remember that you felt a vague desire to call Reynard, or to see him again? I think that was supposed to be the main event. While you were talking with him, he took advantage of that old-fashioned, romantic memory trick with the tower and installed powerful sexual urges in your mind. But your subconscious outwitted him - instead of heading to him for a roll in the hay on his command, you meshed that urge with the discussion about that 19-year old, and came up with something uniquely your own. Jill Madison said that you are intelligent, and now I absolutely believe her." I stopped talking and just enjoyed looking at Heidi as she digested all this.

"What will become of me?"

"I suspect that you may have worked it all out already. However," and I paused to let it sink in, "don't take any chances. Here's a card from a fellow who knows a lot more about hypnotism than me. He'll work with you, even by e-mail or in a chat room if you can't see him in town." I gave her a card from my German friend Professor Markus.

"He's a man who can write thirty-five paragraphs about the phrase "recreational sex" with a straight face. You can trust him." I said it as sincerely as I could, and sort of believed it. I knew that Professor Markus would clear out amateur Reynard's leftovers in Heidi's subconscious, but I wondered if he would resist the temptation to replace Reynard with himself. Still, no one had complained about him.

"That's great! I can't tell you how much I appreciate that." She leaned across the table and gave me a smooch on the cheek. A passing librarian was startled and then kept on walking. She had likely seen worse. "I've got to go now," Heidi added.

"A dinner date?" I smiled.

"Bob's in town." She blushed. "We're just going to talk though-- we both kind of think that Bull Creek Project thing was just a fling."

"Are you bringing a copy of Engineering News Record with you?" I raised my eyebrows and grinned at the young engineer.

"PROFESSOR!" She exclaimed in professional woman shock, and then collapsed in a gale of girlish giggles.

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Sophia is helping me get this edited on her laptop. We're back in our room at the Oxford Hotel now. It;'s greatt to do it right away before I forgut some of the key points. The problemm is that it's geting hard --typing i mean, with her breathing seductively and pretending that her bra is getting more and more uncomforatbale. I'll have to run the spellchek later.

- Professor R