Mental Telepathy Ch. 1byJust_John1©
This story is based on those fantasies people, me in particular, have about being the end all of end alls in sexual prowess. The ability to provide pleasure to people at whim, in a manner that provides opportunities that otherwise would never be possible.
John had always wanted to be the one true ladies' man. He'd wished on stars, at wishing wells, and even included a prayer or two to make himself so attractive and desirable that all women would want him immediately. Over the years of fruitless wishing his wishes changed a little and became a wish to be able to make women cum through thought. Kind of a cumulative wish between the babe magnet and the bend a fork without touching it fantasies.
Although reasonably attractive, at slightly over 6 feet, trim at 190 pounds and athletic with dark brown hair and eyes, his shyness held him back from being defined as a "ladies' man." He had a good sense of humor, was laid back and could deal with most stressful events without getting unreasonably angry, but wasn't a pushover and could hold his own in an argument. His work kept him pretty busy but he still had time to wish he could attract several of the ladies at the office and add some quality playtime to his schedule. He still looked younger than his years at age 40.
As John was driving home from his over 30 league baseball game, after putting in four 16 hour days at the office, it began to rain. His fuse had blown on his radio and he was thinking of how to get the bastards at the Mercedes dealership to fix the thing for real this time. Four times to the dealership for the same problem was really pissing him off now. Better to think of something pleasant, like Nancy at the office. God was she beautiful. He wanted her to notice him but always seemed to stand in the elevator with her in total silence.
The elevator was a slow one and he always grew uncomfortable as he stood with nothing to do other than stare at the door expectantly. He did notice that she had no rings, but an awesome body. Nice firm breasts, with nipples that always seemed to be at attention. Light brown straight hair that looked like silk that flowed over her shoulders to the middle of her back. Long legs that appeared from under her normally, just slightly shorter than appropriate skirts, with trim, muscular in that feminine sort of way calves, long thighs with the muscle ridge that told him they were firm, under skin that appeared so soft.
He knew from overheard conversations that she had been through a couple of failed relationships in the past few months. That this guy just wanted to live off her, that guy was a little too cocky for her tastes. How he had wanted to raise his hand and say "ooh me ooh me" when she was lamenting about the fact that there isn't a decent guy out there anywhere, to her friends. All these thoughts ran through his head as the sun went down, dark descended over him and it began to rain. He fought to keep from being mesmerized by the windshield wipers.
When he woke up, he realized that the rain was hitting his face. His car was laying on its side a few yards from where he lay, with one rear tire sticking up towards the sky turning slowly like it would never stop. He looked to his other side and saw the hill, with the broken guardrail at the top and the signs of his end over end trip down the hill to the bottom of the ravine. "shit, I must've fallen asleep behind the wheel, I wonder if anyone will find me..." were the thoughts that ran through his head, which, by the way was pounding. He slowly moved each limb, determined that, although severely bruised the only part of him that took any serious damage was his head. The bump on the back of his head was egg sized already, growing rapidly and bleeding. He knew he took a pretty hard hit. He slowly raised his body off the ground and worked his way up the hill back to the road.
An explanation to the first nice person that stopped, two cell phone calls and a ride in an ambulance and John was in the hospital. As he lay on the treatment table getting the wound in his scalp sewn shut he looked over and saw the nurses legs, trim legs, nice legs and he began to wonder what she would look like under that stark white and starched uniform. He closed his eyes and imagined running his hand up under her skirt, what it would feel like as his fingers met the fabric of her panties, would they be sexy silk, a vixen in disguise, or would they be sensible cotton? He could imagine the feel of them under his fingers, the feel of her lips through the... silk, had to be silk. He could feel them growing, becoming softer, spreading slowly for him, the sensation of actually feeling her was so real to him.
The faceless legs before him began to move, to jiggle, to spread. He heard a sigh, one that reminded him of the last bout of horizontal aerobics he had participated in. As he turned his head slightly to see the face that matched the legs he saw a nurse, just a plain looking woman, relatively skinny, hair tucked up under one of those modified shower caps that surgical nurses wear. Her face was flushed, her forehead glistened with a sheen of perspiration, but it wasn't hot in the treatment room. "what the hell is going on here?" thought John and then his conscious thought was consumed with, "Ow shit! That hurt!" as he received the anesthesia for the stitches.
A few hours later after arguing, unsuccessfully, that he was fine to go home, he was laying in the hospital bed watching TV. Not a show that he would ordinarily watch but having been placed in a semi private room he had to share the channel selector. Another one of the degrading things he had to endure as part of a hospital stay. The nurse came in, not the same one as the emergency room but the same type. The kind that asks you questions only so she can write the answers in your chart, the just another piece of meat type of personality. She was pleasantly plump and apparently not willing to admit the change in her body. Her uniform was a little too tight, the buttons straining to hold her oversized breasts in, the slight pouch just below the waist.
He had nothing to do but observe her observing him. And again his mind began to wander. What would she look like with no clothes, would he want to have sex with her if he had the chance? A knothole in a tree looked good at certain times, of course there was the splinter thing, everything had its downside, but he wasn't sure if he would really go through with it if given the chance. She was a little too cold, but she did have nice breasts. He wondered if she had big nipples, would they grow or were they large around but small in height? He began to think about running his fingers over her nipples, softly, slowly, just barely touching the surface, waiting for them to rise to his attention.
As he watched them her breathing changed subtly, he watched as she shifted her body, reached around her back and adjusted her nurses uniform. The action caused the front of her dress to slide slightly, from side to side over her breasts. They were firm, not what he expected. Of course contained in a bra but he could still tell by their motion that they were firm, and yes she had long nipples. He could see them even through her bra as her dress slid from side to side.
His thoughts turned to running his hands down her body, he could actually feel the softness of her rubinesque belly as they slid slowly lower. He could feel the course hair, thick as his fingers slid lower. He could feel her clit as his fingers passed over it to slowly separate her lips, feeling her moisture. The feelings and sensations he had through this harmless fantasy were so real. He could actually feel her lips separate as his fingers slid gently into her, he could feel her walls contract around his fingers. Much more real than any fantasy he'd ever had before, so real in fact he almost wiped his hands on the sheet of the bed, they felt that wet. He looked at them but they were dry.
As he glanced at the nurse she was sweating... She plopped down in the chair next to his bed, the one intended for visitors, and looked at him. Hard. John felt as if she were looking into his soul she looked so hard. Her legs were crossed and her top leg was rocking as she tried to write his data on her clipboard. She wriggled her bottom on the chair from side to side. Surreptitiously, trying to hide her motions. John could smell her arousal but couldn't figure out why? Did she have a Dr. she was late for meeting in the linen closet? She stopped writing and sat still for a moment with her eyes closed, seemed to shudder once, then again... Her eyes popped open and she looked again at John, almost as if she was surprised to see him lying there, stood abruptly, dropping the clipboard on the bedside table instead of returning it to its rightful place in a hanger beside the door to the room, and almost ran out of the room.
Now John wasn't the most experienced guy in the world but he wondered... Damn, it looked like she had a mini orgasm right in front of him. What the hell was that all about? He shrugged his shoulders and went back to staring idly at the TV. His member was rock hard, but not being an exhibitionist he would have to let it deflate on its own, slowly, so fucking slowly. Maybe his recent dry spell was why things seemed to feel so real when he fantasized, but why did the point of his fantasies seemed to get hot too? Must be pheromones, they were hot already and their scent set him off.
The nurse came back into his room and grabbed his chart, quickly, almost as if she was trying to get in and out before she was caught again. Her hair was disheveled and her uniform wasn't zipped as high as it was, more cleavage showing and the white stockings were gone. John couldn't quite put his finger on it but her clothing looked slightly askew. Things you'd never notice unless you gave her an in-depth once over like John had done. Again John thought about her ass, slightly too wide for his tastes but, did her pussy really feel as soft, as pliant as he had imagined? How would it feel as his cock slid into it? Would that softness wrap slowly around his member, he could feel it as his imaginary cock slid into her, and began to pump in and out.
His cock was actually tingling so hard he was afraid he would cum. And as he opened his eyes the nurse was bent over the table, her ass was moving slightly, as if she was pumping back into... well as if she was having sex from behind. Her mouth was open and she was gulping air, nipples hard and pressing out against her uniform. Her arms supported her upper body as she leaned forward against the table. A soft and subtle moan slipped from her lips. As his attention to his fantasy slipped and was filled with this curious nurse seemingly close to an orgasm standing next to his bed she turned to look at him. Her face was filled with conflicting emotions that John determined were a mixture of curiosity and frustration. She seemed like she was on the edge of orgasm but she seemed mad at John at the same time. And she had a look on her face that begged the question... "What the fuck is going on here?" She grabbed the clipboard and ran from the room.
John took his member in his hand, fingers wrapped around his hardness and began to stroke, subtly, slowly, as he didn't want the guy in the next bed to hear his ministrations through the curtains that separated their beds. He had tingled so hard, actually could feel the soft wet walls of her pussy sliding up and down his hard member during his fantasy about the nurse he knew he had to cum if he was to get any sleep at all that night. The tingles built in him as he felt their warmth spreading through his body. He could feel his legs tensing, as he held his breath and prepared to let go, his testicles pulled up tight to his body, and right as he was starting to shoot the first pearly white string of cum under his sheets, the door opened and in walked the nurse.
He couldn't stop what was already in motion but tried to stop his stroking. He tried to lay still with his eyes closed, to breath normally but the pleasure coursing through his body gave all the tell tale signs, the last quivers of his body as his cum came to a close, with a snort or two he just couldn't control. As he opened his eyes the nurse was standing in front of him, just watching him. He was furious with himself as his face turned red with embarrassment. He was waiting for a rebuke, a comment, but she said nothing as she walked over to his bedside table, pulled out the thermometer and stuck it in his mouth. As they waited for the beep she just sat there looking into his eyes.
The beep finally came and as she rose to walk out of the room, she stopped, leaned over to him and whispered in his ear, "now we're even" and she turned and walked out of the room. John couldn't figure out what was happening to him. That was the sexiest thing, the most erotic thing that didn't quite happen to him. It amazed him at how great she looked now that he could imagine her in the throes of orgasm.
It took him a couple of days to get his shit together enough to leave the hospital, the Dr telling him had been lucky when he had been thrown from the car. The Dr told him he had a concussion and to report anything strange that happens, weakness in an arm, blurred vision, difficulty concentrating, anything at all come to see him. John wondered if he should mention the fact that every time he thought of a woman in his presence she seemed to feel his thoughts. But he thought that the Doc would definitely keep him in the hospital but this time supply him with a rubber room, so he said nothing.
As he sat in the taxi on the way home he tried to think this thing out. The only way to answer his question of whether he could actually, what, think a woman to orgasm was probably the best way to say it, would be to experiment. He tried to think of an experiment that would follow the best scientific practice he could come up with. As he rode up the elevator to his apartment on the fifth floor he was planning his day. He would take it easy for a couple of hours and then go out to lunch. He would pick a woman in the crowd, key on her and see what would happen.
As John walked in the busy restaurant he began looking for his unlucky, or perhaps lucky as some would say, victim. There were women of all shapes and sizes but he finally settled on the librarian type seated alone in the corner. He sat so he could face her and watch her, but he was distant enough and hidden enough that he could observe while remaining unobserved.
She was cute, but not gorgeous in a mousy sort of way. Glasses of course (fits the librarian image), her blouse although tight was buttoned high up on her neck and kind of loose hiding the contours of her body. She had a book opened on the table next to her plate obviously reading as she ate. He thought that perhaps she was reading something racy that would upset the objectivity of his experiment but decided to continue.
He started to think about kissing her neck, the small portion that showed between her chin and her high cut blouse was slim, with the cords of her neck outlined against pale skin. As he imagined how her skin would feel against his lips, she licked her lips and raised her head, as if to give him more room to kiss. His kisses trailed down her neck to the edges of the neck opening of her blouse. She leaned back holding her head high and looked around the restaurant. The action caused her blouse to tighten over her breasts and John again began to wonder about the size of her breasts, how they would look without the confines of her bra and blouse. He imagined her nipples to be dark, small circles on relatively small breasts, perhaps just a handful. As he imagined his fingers gently passing over them he could see the points of her nipples poking against her bra and blouse.
He could feel their texture against his fingers and he imagined that he was leaning over to circle them with his tongue. He could feel their texture against his tongue and watched as she leaned over and pushed her plate to the other side of the table. As he adjusted his angle he could see her legs. Skirt to just below her knees, with one leg tucked up under her on the bench the other hanging over the edge of the bench. She seemed to be rocking on her heel under the drape of her skirt. Her shoulders were pushed back seemingly thrusting her breasts out for his inspection and gentle ministrations.
As he looked back at her face he could see her eyes darting around the restaurant. The expression similar to what one would expect from a deer caught in the headlights on a cold winter day during hunting season. Then he watched as they slowly closed. He continued his gentle stimulation of her breasts. Imagining the taking of one nipple in his mouth to gently twirl his tongue over and across it. Just barely touching it with his tongue. Her hands reached out and gripped the table with such force he could see that her knuckles were white even from the distance.
He imagined his hands moving down to cup her breasts, tested the weight gently and slid further down her stomach. Her stomach felt flat and smooth her skin soft to his imaginary touch and as he observed her she seemed to lean even further back. His fantasy began to take on the tones of his actual situation as he imagined that he was sitting next to her sliding his hand down over her skirt to her leg that was folded beneath her body. Then traveling up again, he was surprised that she was wearing thigh highs with garters. Who would've imagined that this bookish woman would be wearing them? He could feel her moisture seeping out into her panties. They were almost soaked through to his touch. His finger focused on her clit through her panties, sensible cotton panties, but the dichotomy was lost on John. He watched her across the room at the same time maintaining his mental vision of his fingers' manipulation of her clit, as she began to undulate her hips. You would never be able to tell unless you were paying attention to her. Her moves were subtle, an almost imperceptible shifting of her weight, but he could feel how excited she had become. She licked her lips as if her hard breathing had made them dry.
He imagined sliding his fingers faster over her clit, through her panties, sliding under the leg band to provide direct contact with her clit. She jumped and kind of jerked forward a little at her table across the room still holding the table as if her life depended on it. Her leg was moving up and down and even a casual glance would notice the movement at this point. He watched as her hands traveled up her body to cup her breasts, taking her nipple between her fingers through her bra and blouse and rolling between her fingertips. Her mouth was slightly open and he wondered if she was making sounds but across the room with the background din of the restaurant he couldn't hear a thing.
He wondered if he should stop, being afraid that this woman would get caught, would get in trouble in some way. She seemed to have lost touch of where she was, or just didn't care anymore. But she finished the event, as she again gripped the table with both hands, her head down between her arms and her body began to shudder. She slowly let her head fall back and slid down the seat, her entire body was tense, as she went over the edge. Her head jerked forward, and her body shuddered, tensed and then shuddered again. John was amazed as he watched this woman have an orgasm in public, trying to control but failing. She jerked forward once, then again and again. Her leg was tense under her, she was sitting with her hips tense and thrust forward as if trying to pull something into her.
As she began to settle down, she seemed to remember where she was. She straightened back up on her seat and leaned forward over the table, shaking her head in sudden jerks as if trying to clear her mind. Her eyes popped open, again that frightened deer look and she glanced around the restaurant, catching John in his observation of her. She smiled and blushed as she collected her purse and stood to leave. He had an evil steak, a flash of evil as he imagined sliding his finger into her canal, while she stood. She was wet and firm, with a band of muscle that clamped down on his finger and her knees began to buckle. He watched as her eyes rolled back in her head and she slowly settled back into her seat, sitting sideways on the bench, her legs tense, her hips perched, her stomach fluttering as he rubbed her G spot in his mind. Her legs thrust out into the isle and he could see the hard nubs of her nipples through her blouse as she again shuddered rhythmically, her legs quivering her hands slightly in the air, hands clenching and unclenching rhythmically.