The definition of living your life
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The Definition Of Living "your Live" - Learning Curve free porn video
I don?t write stories - I just tell my phantasies...
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The next two weeks were a little disappointing, since I wasn?t able to
repeat what I had done on the subway. Work kept me busy and Mr.
Steinberg wasn?t around much to ask him on the matter.
I connected to some women no doubt, but maybe I was too ambitious and
got nervous about what I should do next, so that I lost them again
nearly immediately. With one girl I had the feeling that it could lead
somewhere. I was able to hold her gaze for a bit and she even smiled.
But then I obviously wanted too much too fast when I wanted to enter her
thoughts completely. It felt like a sting in my head and I closed my
eyes in reflex. After that she didn?t look at me again so I gave up.
After those frustrating moments, I took the opportunity to meet some of
Mr. Steinberg?s friends, when he invited me to a cup of tea on a Sunday
afternoon. It was a teacher?s couple in their early fifties and a
retired psychiatrist. It turned out that they had used their shared time
at the university to do research on the topic of "the gift". Since they
didn?t want other people to know about it, they wrote down their results
in a book that was never published.
We talked a lot and actually they had more questions than I did. I had
trouble explaining what I did or how I did it. And I did not go so far
as to tell them about the woman on the subway. I guess I wanted to keep
the best part for myself - for the moment.
In the end they encouraged me to continue exploring the gift and nearly
begged me to keep them informed. But the best thing was that they gave
me a copy of their book, which I accepted gladly.
That very evening I started reading it. It seemed chaotic at first,
because it was written like a diary. They had mixed theories,
experiments (without and with all sorts of drugs!) and own experiences
of the three authors. Some of it I could relate to, other stuff was
harder to comprehend or seemed even plain wrong to me.
In a nutshell: The theory they came up with was, that there were about
ten different degrees of the gift. Which meant that not all gifted
people had the same capabilities. That part was pure genetics and
couldn?t be changed. I remembered that call Mr. Steinberg had given on
the day he told me about the gift. I think he called me a possible ten,
which meant that I probably was top of the foodchain. I couldn?t help
but feel like some sort of superhero.
The more interesting part was, that the gift could be developed through
meditation and exercises. Meditation to prepare the mind for the
different tasks and exercise to think the right thing in the right
moment. At two o clock in the morning I forced myself to let the next
pages wait and go to sleep. After all I had a job to go to.
On Monday evening on my way home I had a revelation. Funny thing was
that I had not to do anything with the book, although I had thought
about it all day.
Remember the girl I had connected to shortly? I met her again. And what
happened then wasn?t like anything I had experienced before.
I had not realized that she had entered the subway. But then I saw her
standing next to the door. Maybe that was, because she looked different
this time.
Three days before she had had her chestnut hair in a bun. She had worn a
plain looking grey coat with blue jeans and flats. She had looked a
little tired and from her big handbag I had got the impression, that
maybe she was a student on her way to university and tired from learning
all night. The thick black-rimmed glasses got her a sophisticated look.
But since she sat there huddled together a bit, wearing no makeup, I had
thought her pretty but nothing special.
This evening she wore her hair open and her locks reached down to her
shoulder blades. Now her glasses gave her a very sexy look, because she
had full makeup on. She wore the same coat but this time she let it open
and showed a tight red turtleneck-sweater and a black and white
checkered skirt. The outfit was completed with black leather boots with
a 4 inch heel.
When the guy next to me left his seat, she came over and took it. My
heart was pounding, most likely because it couldn?t decide where to pump
the blood. From the corner of my eye I tried to get a glimpse of the
beautiful girl that was sitting leg to leg next to me. She looked out of
the window as soon as she had sat down. I moved my head a bit forward
trying to find out, if I could see the reflection of her face in the
window.
And I could.
And I did.
And she looked.
And I looked.
And I blacked out.
When I woke up, I had been gone for about five minutes. She was still
sitting next to me, looking outside the window. I was still collecting
myself, when a voice asked me politely to move a little, so she could
get out. Of course I let her, because I knew she had not want to be here
in the first place, hadn?t been comfortable sitting next to me and had
an evening class to attend to.
I quickly realized that I knew all sorts of stuff about Susan. Actually
it seemed that I knew ALL about Susan! And the reason for that was, that
I HAD BEEN Susan for the last couple of days. I felt the headache
creeping in again. I managed to get home and lay on my bed. I tried to
calm down and block away the stream of random strange thoughts and
memories. Breath in, breath out. WOW.
Bit by bit I put together what had happened:
After lots and lots of failures I had put a lot of energy and
concentration into trying to connect to Susan that day. I had thought
that it had not worked. But it had. I had separated a very powerful
stream of thoughts from my mind and sent it over to her.
Other than the first experience I wasn?t able to control anything. I was
just a passenger on an uncontrollable ride. I could hear her thoughts,
see through her eyes and feel through her skin. It was overwhelming. I
spent the first hours just being there. She went from the subway
straight to a class. She was a chemistry-student in her 7th semester.
Just sitting there gave me a lot of time to let it all sink in. After a
while I could reach more and more into her feelings, her thoughts and
most of all her memories. She had been single since her 3rd semester.
She had 3 close friends to spend her time with but lived a rather
uneventful life besides her studies.
After a while I started regretting that I had not connected to someone
else. At least someone with other shoes, since I have a pretty strong
high heel fetish. At that very moment Susan thought about wearing her
Mary Jane?s with the 3 inch heel more often. Something was going on
here. I tried to think of even higher heels, but it did not have any
effect on her thoughts. I found out that she actually had a rather nice
looking figure, 5 ft 10 with 33-25-37. She didn?t do sports and felt
rather uneasy dressing up. But sometimes her friends managed to get her
out to nightclubs so at least she owned some clothes for those
occasions.
Her thoughts drifted to her weekend plans. She and her friend Carolin
wanted to try out a new cake-recipe and do a Gilmore-girls revival
afterwards. Maybe she was in the mood to go out instead. Maybe she
should go for a one night stand for once in her live to get out her
boring routines. I felt a little flush and she was embarrassed over her
own thoughts. She concentrated on the lecture again.
When she was done with university for the day, the thought on her
weekend plans came back. She went home and there straight to the closet.
I got a little exited, because I hoped she would play a little dress up
- and she did. I was completely amazed. Most of the stuff in there
wasn?t my taste at all, but from what was there, she picked the stuff
that definitely suited me the most. It was obvious that I somehow
influenced her. Shortly after she had put off her shirt, she looked at
her chest for a moment. She cupped her breasts which created a very nice
cleavage. This excited both of us. Her hands slowly went down from her
breasts to her slip. But suddenly she shook her head, threw the clothes
back into the closet and put her everyday gear back on.
Damn it, so close!
Caroline wasn?t just a friend of Susan, she actually was her roommate.
She was a little chubby and shorter than Susan, but definitely cared
more for her looks. She was a makeup-artist at the local theater and was
hardly ever seen without made up face and hair. Her hair was hard to
describe, because it seemed that style and color changed every week.
I liked her for all of that. She also wore much tighter clothes than
Susan, which sometimes wasn?t such a good idea, but at least she was
trying and I always appreciate a nice set of boobs.
When Caroline came home that evening, Susan revealed that she wanted to
go out Saturday evening and asked Caroline to help her with her style,
even if she would borrow her some clothes.
In the end it all lead to a bank-account endangering shopping trip on
the next day. I witnessed Susan, accompanied by an overexited Carolin,
spending 700 bucks on clothes and shoes that obviously were picked by my
taste only with only a little limiting by Susan?s self-consciousness and
Carolin?s advice.
We left the house in the evening with a khaki suede-dress which showed
of a little cleavage that was created by a wonderbra. The dress was
pretty short but not as tight as I would have wished. But on the other
hand Susan got more and more comfortable with going out like this. The
outfit was completed by plain black 4 inch leather boots and a brown
leather coat. Carolin had done wonders creating long flowing locks that
lay on our shoulders and the fitting black leather handbag had enough
room for flats, because Susan wanted to dance a lot that evening.
It was definitely her night and she had the most fun in years - she
danced and laughed and talked to Carolin and some other students they
met. It felt nice but as the evening went by I felt not like a passenger
anymore but more like zoning in and out in front of the tv. I sometimes
completely forgot about my own situation and kind of melted into Susan.
When we woke up sunday morning I had not only slept but passed out for
about two hours before Susan went to sleep. I felt some kind of panic,
afraid to vanish. I collected myself and concentrated on meeting my self
again. Maybe there would be some way back. I remembered my schedule for
monday morning, but that wasn?t even close to Susans and I could not get
her o change plans. It was a hard fight and I pumped her thought full of
my own desire but she had an important class to go to and I had no
chance. Sideeffect of my "attack" was, that Susan picked a very sexy
outfit for the next day. Next I tried to make her meet myself on the way
home and there was less resistance.
When she had finished class, meeting her mum on a cup of coffee and
running some other errands we finally entered the subway. Susan
struggled and felt kind of uneasy with looking for a guy she only saw
once before and on top of that looking him in the eye. Since this can?t
be described as an ordinary urge I felt sorry for her - but I wanted to
go home. As soon as we glanced my self we felt relieved and on edge at
the same time, but I made her go and in the end succeeded.
...to be continued.
Alma
- 17.09.2022
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