Web of Sensation Ch. 02byR_D_Eddy©
Chapter 02: The Reading Lesson
Author's Note: This is the second story in a planned series about a telepathic swingers club that meets in their minds as much as in the flesh. Imagine the possibilities of feeling a male and female orgasm in your mind simultaneously . . .
Evelyn Chambers removed her half glasses and let them drop on their chain against her ample bosom as she rubbed her tired eyes. She'd been at her task of grading senior compositions for over two hours and still had half the stack to go. Why ever did she continue to assign writing to her classes? Most other teachers had given up on it and stuck with assignments that were easy to grade. Of course, as near as she could tell, those teachers either didn't think the kids had the brains to compose original thoughts or they'd just given up on trying. Evelyn wasn't about to give up. Not yet, anyway.
She stood and stretched, working her fingers to get the cramps out as she walked across her small office in the efficient little house she and her husband had bought after the kids moved out on their own. Neither she nor her husband, Dale, were much interested in housework and a split level wasn't worth the bother without the children.
Dale was a professor at Dixon College, a small liberal arts college two blocks away from their cozy little home. Evelyn taught English at the senior high school three blocks the other direction. The proximity to their respective jobs had been the primary reason for their purchase. Ten more years of teaching should be enough. With their pensions and the investment income from their home sale, they should be in good shape to enjoy retirement. Ten more years. Evelyn wondered how she was going to be able to stand it that long.
She left the office and walked across the living room to the short hall and then into the bedroom. Dale was asleep with the bedside lamp on. Naked, and with the covers kicked away to reveal him there. Evelyn smiled as she looked at him. Such a handsome man. His gray hair had receded quite a bit, of course. He was fifty-three, after all, so that was to be expected. His belly wasn't quite so flat as when they'd married, but he'd avoided the weight gain most of her friends' husbands suffered from.
Dale's cock was semi hard, as usual in his sleep. He wasn't a candidate for Viagra yet, that was certain. He'd been waiting for her tonight, and she'd said she would be right in. Well, she'd wake him in a couple minutes.
Evelyn turned to look at herself in the mirror over the dresser. She could see Dale behind her in the mirror, as she looked at herself and pondered how she'd held up over time.
Her auburn hair was salted with gray now, and cut in a shorter style that she favored in her youth. At fifty-two, she felt good, and thought she looked pretty good, too. Her breasts were large, double D, and her hips had widened substantially. Not much of a belly, though. Not too bad.
Glancing back at Dale, she unbuttoned her blouse. The papers weren't due back until Monday. She didn't have to finish them tonight.
Evelyn slipped out of her blouse and draped it over the chair. She removed her bra and massaged beneath her breasts where the underwires cut into them. With a sigh, she pushed down her slacks and panties together and kicked them away. She stood looking into the mirror, studying the faint stretch marks on her stomach and reaching down to fluff up the dark pubic hair that had been matted by her underwear.
Her pussy was dry. Senior papers weren't very arousing. She rubbed two fingers over her pubic mound, massaging lightly as she looked back at her husband's cock. It looked harmless now, but it was seven inches when aroused. She intended to impale her self on all seven inches shortly. But first, she had to work up some lubrication.
"Anybody home?" she thought forcefully. "Are you guys sleeping? I don't believe that for one second. Lend me a hand here, gang."
She stood examining her face in the mirror, admiring the regal features and the bright blue eyes. Creases around her lips, yes, but not bad. Pretty much wrinkle free. The trouble with self examination was that it wasn't very sexy, and thinking about aging wasn't going to prepare her to wake her husband. She really wanted to get laid.
"Come on, you horny fuckers, give me a hand."
"Hello, Evelyn," came a voice in her mind. "What's up?"
"Nothing at the moment. I was thinking there might be someone handy to give me a jump start."
The voice that answered her unspoken call wasn't an illusion. It belonged to a woman named Kaitlyn Ash. Evelyn and Kaitlyn were linked to each other and thirty other people in a special way. They were telepathic, able to share thoughts and emotions without words and over miles. Kaitlyn lived downtown, while Evelyn and Dale were in the suburbs. There were five miles between them.
Evelyn had given up trying to figure out how it worked. All she knew was that one night, fifteen years earlier, she'd been making love with Dale when she was suddenly aware of another person's thoughts in her head. Their lovemaking had suddenly gained a voyeur who used Evelyn's own eyes and body to participate. At the height of her orgasm, she'd burst into a whole new world. The voyeur was Kaitlyn Ash, her sixteen year-old neighbor, who'd recently suffered a crippling car accident.
Over time, they'd figured out how to manage their strange gift. The first thing Evelyn did was to manage the gift to keep the young girl out of her head during lovemaking. She wasn't about to corrupt any minors if she could help it. Before long they found others to join them. Dale, unfortunately, wasn't able to participate fully. At the height of passion, he could feel the others through Evelyn, but not on his own. He was a willing exhibitionist, however. He'd fallen into the role of sexual performer quite easily, and Evelyn found it sparked their sex quite a bit.
Though the group communicated for many reasons ranging from business to sharing recipes, sex was what they liked sharing best. They had some phenomenal orgies in their time, and all without leaving their respective homes.
That was why Evelyn had called Kaitlyn now. She didn't want to wake Dale until she was ready for him, and her school work had done little to aid her in that area.
"Don't tell me that Dale can't get it up," Kaitlyn laughed.
"No, I can't."
"Close your eyes. I'll show you something."
Evelyn closed her eyes and saw nothing at first. Then she saw another sleeping man. Tall, muscular, he was lying on his back covered by a sheet until Kaitlyn pulled it away to reveal his flaccid member. Seeing things from Kaitlyn's point of view, she watched a hand reach out to grasp his cock. Then she leaned forward to take the head into her mouth.
Evelyn felt the bulbous head pass over her lips, felt the tongue swirl around on it. She felt it stiffening in her hand and watched it being stroked as she felt the sensation in her hand. She could feel a hand on her pussy now—Kaitlyn's pussy—and felt her own juices begin to flow in response to the actions taking place downtown.
"Oh, hi, Eve." A man's voice sounded in her head. That was Kaitlyn's husband, James, speaking sleepily. "To what do I owe the honor of this blowjob?"
"Shush dear," Kaitlyn said. "Don't ruin the mood."
"That's right, or I won't let you watch," Evelyn teased.
"I'll be good," he promised, and she saw him lie back to let Kaitlyn play with his scrotum.
Evelyn was well lubricated now, ready to wake her patient husband with the sex she'd promised over an hour ago. With the image of Kaitlyn's hand on James' cock slipping in and out of her consciousness, Evelyn walked to the bed and slipped her hand up her husband's inner thigh and grasped his penis. It stiffened immediately, and Dale opened his eyes sleepily, and then blinked them open.
"I love it when you wake me like this," he murmured, reaching for her breasts. "Come to papa."
Evelyn straddled him and guided his cock up into her pussy. She wanted it hard, and dropped herself on him, feeling his member reach the limit of her anatomy. Dale grasped her breasts greedily, knowing from her actions exactly what she wanted tonight.
He pulled her down by the breasts, bringing them to his mouth to nibble at the firm nipples, sucking hard as he slid his arms around his wife's bucking body. Evelyn sighed, savoring the rough use of her breasts as she slammed herself down on his rigid member. The bed creaked beneath them as Evelyn broke free of his grip and leaned back to support herself with her hands back by his ankles. She arched her back, moving so that the head of his cock nearly popped out with each upward movement and then rubbed over the sensitive top of her pussy when she descended.
She came in a rush, her orgasm hitting her like a bomb of heat and tingling sensation deep in her belly. She dropped forward again, convulsively, and kissed Dale, whispering, "Pretty big cock for a college professor."
"I'll show you big cock," he said, laughing.
Dale rolled them to their sides and pulled out of her pussy just long enough get her into position on her back with her legs up over his shoulders. He dropped himself back into her, rocking her knees toward her face with each hard thrust. Evelyn's second orgasm was larger and more sustained than the first.
Life was good.
A tiny spark of pleasure popped into the back of Evelyn's mind as her orgasm subsided. Just a brief glimpse, an orgasm denied somewhere in the city. Sometimes, at the height of passion, stray sparks of feeling from unknown people came through like bad AM radio. This was one of them. But this one was followed by a lingering feeling of regret, and Evelyn suddenly felt sad.
Hoping to fight the feeling off, she pushed her husband back to his knees and scrambled around to face him. She laid on her side and took his cock into her mouth, savoring the taste of herself on him and working her mouth and tongue to obtain his added flavor. It didn't take long for his juice to burst into her mouth, and she swallowed it happily.
When they collapsed together on the bed, Evelyn's sadness was gone. She forgot about that little spark that glowed briefly in her mind and fell to sleep in Dale's arms.
* * *
The next day, Thursday, was like all the rest. Students rushing to class, teachers blinking away fatigue, and everyone generally wanting to be someplace else. Evelyn walked into her senior English class and put her books down on the desk and began writing the key points of today's lesson on the board while the students entered behind her.
She didn't have to turn to know who was present today. She could hear many of them in her mind.
Missy Gilbertson was thinking about play try-outs, while her friend, Jane Benson, was more concerned about her late period. Billy Jones was actually thinking about the assignment, which pleased Evelyn. He'd liked the book. Lily Wentworth was thinking about the assignment, too, but only because she'd lost the book before she could read it and hoped to get through class without being called on for discussion. Daniel Kent was thinking, as he often did, that his teacher had spectacular tits. He was wondering what they looked like uncovered even while trying to conceal the boner pressing against his jeans. The poor boy was always so horny.
Evelyn turned to face the ranks of blank and distracted faces and said, "Okay, so how many of you have read the book?"
Not one hand was raised. Not even Billy Jones, whom she knew had read it, responded. Suddenly discouraged, Evelyn turned toward Lily Wentworth and said, "Did you all take your books home with you?"
Lily reddened under Evelyn's gaze and the rest of the class began mumbling excuses.
Evelyn sighed. "Okay," she said. "Get out your books and start reading." She sat behind her desk and took her book out, waiting for Lily to ask for a copy. Lily didn't speak up. She lifted her binder to appear that she was reading and settled down with the rest of the class.
"Fine," Evelyn thought. "Let her fail the class."
She would have loved to talk about the assigned reading and delve into their feelings and opinions about the book, but it looked as though she'd spend the hour reading the paper instead.
"Sixteen dollars and twenty-six cents."
The thought had nothing to do with The Old Man and the Sea, and it didn't come from anyone in the group of whom she was aware. It was a woman, and she was fretting about money. Now she knew it wasn't a group member. The one thing common to them was financial comfort.
This girl was sending pretty strongly, so it was possible she could receive as well.
"Sixteen dollars in the bank. Fifty-six dollars overdue for power. Seven dollars in my purse."
"Do you need money?" Evelyn sent her thoughts toward the worried girl.
"I need nothing but money, and don't work at the station again until Sunday. Guess I'd better get dressed and go out."
She either didn't hear or believed Evelyn's message was her own thought. She faded away.
Evelyn's second class was marginally better than first period. The students were eager to hear how they had done on their compositions. As they had been average at best, Evelyn thought it best to wait with comments until she could hand them back. The class was spent in a lively discussion of whether rap lyrics would better qualify as poetry or music.
Their consensus was that it was poetry. The beat was just a clever ploy to get people to listen to it.
Period three was junior English, and she all but written them off already. If she managed to teach them anything about grammar by the end of the year she'd count herself lucky. And so on through the rest of the day. Suburban kids without discipline or goals content to drift from one social event to the next without thought about the rest of their lives. Dealing with them wore her out.
By the end of the day, Evelyn was ready for a stiff drink. Or, a stiff something, anyway.
Would they pay attention if they knew how much alike their lives really were? Would they care about their studies if they knew that you could be educated and goal oriented and still get laid regularly? They saw her as old, used up. They saw her point of view as being out of step with their needs.
They certainly wouldn't picture her as participating in group sex with multiple partners of both genders. Not Mrs. Chambers. Well, Maybe Daniel Kent would.
Evelyn walked home feeling every pound of the bag in which she carried her work. The weight seemed to drive her feet into the concrete, making each step heaver than the last. It seemed to be more than discouragement. Something deeper, a feeling of depression that was foreign to her normal outlook. She may be tired of the blank, unthinking faces of the kids, but she wasn't normally depressed by them. There was always one bright one in a class to give her hope.
Today, however, she felt hopeless.
"Okay, twenty-five for a hand-job, but you aren't paying enough to get me naked, too."
That thought was very strong, and it seemed to come from the girl who was fretting about money earlier. Evelyn concentrated as she walked, trying to focus in on the girl, and she noticed her depression lifting as she did. Now she felt a sense of positive action. Desperation in the action, of course, but control. The future didn't seem quite so bleak.
There was a glimpse of a man's face. Gray hair and beard. Gray eyes that seemed sad and lonely. His penis wasn't fully erect, as though hampered by emotion.
"Relax. I'm not going to bite it. That costs way more than twenty-five." The girl was compassionate, using humor to disarm his reticence. "For a hundred dollars I can give you a lot more, you know. Give you some nice pussy to make this soldier stand up at attention fast."
The man laughed, and his cock stiffened. He told her he wished he could afford more. He was sure she was worth far more and was embarrassed to be so cheap.
"You aren't the only one, honey." She spoke lightly, stroking, smiling, and earning her money with her personality as well as her hand. "You just relax and think how sweet it'll look when your jism comes pouring out over my hand. Bet your come would taste nice. Bet you'd like me tasting it. Taking in a mouthful. Oh, yeah, now you're hard as a rock. You'd really tear me a new asshole with this thing."
The thoughts faded again, but Evelyn assumed the girl was successful. That feeling of success carried her home in a far better mood.
A prostitute. The girl was a prostitute. But she had a job, too. At a station, she'd thought. Evelyn wondered why she hadn't found better work, something that paid enough to support her. Her mind had the focused clarity of intelligence, not the muddied feeling of some minds. She was a bright girl, but she didn't get enough hours to pay her way and had to sell her body to make ends meet.
Evelyn had never thought much about prostitution, but now that she did she wasn't really surprised by the feeling of control the girl had. She was working toward a goal and thereby had a hand in her own destiny. Evelyn supposed that any kind of work could be empowering, though she didn't see much to recommend prostitution as a career path.
Dale was home when she got there. His classes finished earlier than hers, and he was ready with a martini for her when she entered. "Back from the trenches," he declared, handing her the glass.
"Thank you, honey." Evelyn kissed her husband as she took the drink and sipped it as she toed off her shoes and walked through to sit on the couch in the living room. "What do you think about prostitution?" she asked him.
Dale stared at her blankly a moment. If he had one shortcoming it was his habit of staring rather blank-eyed while pondering a question. He didn't want to offer opinions without proper consideration, which was smart, but the moment he spent thinking always made him look stupid. She'd pointed that out before. Sometimes to tease her he'd cock his head and let his tongue hang out while thinking.
"Prostitution? Well, I guess it's an occupation I wouldn't pick for our daughter, but not one I would necessarily decry as immoral. I can't say I've ever really thought about it. Why?"
Evelyn told him about the new person she'd picked up today, wondering what she thought about her situation.
"Her situation clearly sucks," he said, sitting beside her. "But she isn't the first person to take a distasteful job to make ends meet. Woman or man."
"Men's choices are a bit better," Evelyn said. "Digging a ditch or such. Not prostitution."
"Come now, what about male prostitutes?"
"Okay, I wasn't thinking about them," she admitted. "But this girl is smart. Why can't she get ahead?"
"I guess you'll have to tune in and ask her," Dale suggested.
"I don't think she's fully telepathic," Evelyn said. "She didn't seem to hear me."
"You'll find a way," he said. "That can be your project tonight. I've got that class, you know."
"Oh, yes, I'd forgotten. Do you have time for dinner?"
"Nothing big," he said. "A full belly puts me to sleep. I've got to pretend to be awake for grad students."
"And I may want you to be perky when you get home, too," Evelyn said, finishing her drink. "Maybe we'll have a late supper in bed."
* * *
Evelyn had a second martini after she and Dale shared a light supper and he walked back to the college for his evening class. When she finished, she undressed and put on her silk robe. Comfort was important for what she wanted to do tonight.
Telepathy is not a known ability in the world. There are assumptions about it, but nothing that is able to be measured. That is true about the group as well. They didn't know how it worked, or why, only that they had become linked to each other through the mind. Strong feelings could awaken the connection—anger, fear, joy, or arousal. Once a person came to believe in the reality of the connection, their brains worked on their own to refine and control it. Believing it was the tough part, of course.