Autobiography of John RossChapter 18
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I woke the next morning with a sense of disorientation. I wasn't in my own bed. I was sleeping in my parents' room. Someone stirred next to me, and I turned to see Laura, her dark hair splayed out over the pillow, still asleep. Memories of the night before flooded back and I was instantly hard. My God! It was one of my favorite fantasies come true. But I was nervous as well. Somehow, last night, I had influenced her. I had directed her with the force of my will. What if it had worn off during the night? What if she accused me of raping her? What if she told my parents what had happened?
As I thought of these possibilities, Laura stirred again and opened her eyes, blinking at me. She, too, seemed confused for a moment; then she smiled at me and propped herself up on one elbow. The covers fell back, exposing one pink- tipped breast, but she showed no embarrassment.
"Good morning, lover," she said, and leaned forward to kiss me. I put my arm around her and hugged her against me.
"Did you sleep well?" I asked.
"Like a log," she said. "You?"
"Yes. I thought... I'm not used to sleeping with someone else."
"Me neither," Laura said. "I've never been able to spend the night, before."
She kissed me again and sat up, an action I greatly appreciated. She squinted at the clock and sighed.
"We'd better get moving, or we'll be late for school," she said.
I was tempted to suggest that we call in sick, but suppressed the idea. It might attract attention, something I was not at all eager to do. I got up, feeling a bit embarrassed at my continued erection. I wasn't used to sleeping in the nude. But Laura just looked at me and smiled.
"We could save time," she suggested, "by showering together..."
I don't think we actually saved any time, since it turned into a very long shower. We kissed for a long while under the warm spray, then spent time soaping and rinsing each other's body. Laura washed and rinsed her hair, while I ran my hands over her glistening body. It felt heavenly. It must have felt pretty good to her as well, as her breath was quickly coming in gasps, and she actually shuddered with an orgasm before I was finished.
My cock was still perfectly hard, and after she finished rinsing her hair Laura knelt in front of me, looking up.
"This," she said, starting to pump her hand up and down my shaft, "should keep you going until school is out..."
I moaned aloud as her mouth engulfed me. It was my second blowjob, and felt every bit as good as the first.
After drying and getting dressed we grabbed a quick breakfast, and Laura drove us both to school. She paused at the curb around the corner to give me a quick kiss out of sight, then pulled forward to drop me off in front. "See you later," she said, making it sound like a promise.
I paid very little attention in class that day, actually getting rebuked by my English teacher for daydreaming. I suppose she was surprised, because I was usually a very attentive student. I was turning over the events of the last twelve hours in my mind. That I had somehow influenced Laura seemed irrefutable. I remembered that I had felt something, just before her attitude changed, something like a resistance giving way.
The question was, could I do it reliably? Could I influence other people, and what could I make them do. I looked at Melissa Lambert, sitting at the desk in front of me. She was a cute, petite blonde, and I had chosen this seat to be able to look at her without being obvious about it. She was a few months older than me, and her body had filled out nicely in the last year. Melissa was another common inhabitant of my fantasies. I concentrated on her.
Drop your pencil, I thought.
Nothing happened. Did I need a verbal instruction? I had spoken aloud to Laura last night, but hadn't a clue whether or not that was necessary. In any case, I could hardly order Melissa to drop her pencil without attracting attention. Maybe I just wasn't doing it right. I tried to remember and recapture the way I had felt last night. Anxiety at being caught spying by Laura; exhilaration; a strange feeling of strength. I tried to invoke those emotions again. I tried to remember exactly what I had thought as I pushed my will onto Laura. Drop your pencil, I thought again.
I felt it again -- a strange sort of resistance, much weaker this time, almost immediately giving way. Melissa's hand twitched and the pencil clattered to the floor. It rolled to a stop almost under my feet. I stooped to pick it up and handed it to her. She was looking at me a little oddly, but whispered a quick thanks and turned back to her notes.
It worked! I thought. And I didn't have to speak aloud.
Could I do it again? I picked a new target, Jeff Simmons, two rows away. He was sitting slumped in his chair, not even pretending to pay attention. I concentrated my will on him.
Your left arm itches, I thought.
An even smaller resistance this time, and he immediately began scratching his arm.
I conducted several more experiments that day. Now that I knew what I was doing, it worked every time. The resistance varied a great deal, both from person to person and from command to command. The more unusual the act, the greater the difficulty. Some people also seemed more difficult to affect than others. The greatest resistance came when I made Jennifer Reynolds pause to tie her shoes on the stairs in front of me. Bent over, she gave me a clear view up her skirt to her lacy silk panties. When she rose she tugged her skirt as if to straighten it, but seemed otherwise unaware that she had done something unusual. After I while, I realized that I was beginning to feel fatigued. However this talent worked, it took some effort to apply. I wondered if it would get easier with practice, like exercising a muscle. I'd just have to wait and see.
Laura had soccer practice after school, so I took the bus home. Melissa rode that same bus; I influenced her to sit by me, unconsciously pressing closer to me than she would normally do, so that her breast brushed against my arm through her sweater. I thought about having her let me feel her up. I could probably have done it, but I doubted I could do so unnoticed, and I was unsure how many people I could influence at once.
Once home, I quickly got my homework out of the way before Laura arrived. I still felt some nagging fear that my influence might have worn off during the day, but as soon as she walked in the door that fear was allayed. Laura pushed the door shut behind her, dropped her book bag, and pulled me into a warm, lingering kiss. She was still sweaty after soccer practice, but she felt wonderful.
Becky
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