My Hidden Talent.
Chapter 1. Reaching Elizabeth.
"What are you staring at? Elizabeth asked sitting up and adjusting her glasses.
"Nothing," I replied nervously.
"You were staring at my panties weren't you?"
"Urr, no! I mean yes. I'm sorry," I said. "I just noticed them, and I couldn't help looking. I'm really sorry Elizabeth, it won't happen again," I offered sincerely.
"Don't be sorry," she whispered staring down at the floor. "Did you...did..."
"Did I what?" I asked softly.
"Did you look because you find me attractive?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said quickly hoping she hadn't noticed that my hands were shaking. "I think you're beautiful."
Elizabeth and I were in her bedroom studying for a math exam. She had been on her bed and I had been sitting on a chair by her desk. As we were working on our homework she had repositioned herself on bed several times, from laying on her back, to lying on her stomach, to sitting up, and back again trying to get comfortable. Then, in a sudden movement, her skirt had gotten folded up on her legs, and I got a clear view of her panties. I could not help, but stare openly when notice she was wearing silky black panties at the top of her long thighs.
Elizabeth was slender, average height, with small breasts. Her brown hair was kept straight and was short enough that it didn't quite reach her shoulders. She was attractive but not beautiful with wide, light blue eyes and long dark lashes. She had the look of a librarian or bookkeeper. I was taller and thin too, not handsome, not ugly.
We both hung out in the geeky crowd at school. We weren't invited to the big parties or in the popular crowd. We were on the debate team, the chess club, the science club, and were obsessed with where we could be going to college.
I had been working on this moment for a long time, and I think it was actually beginning to work. It all started about two years earlier with my mother. My father had left my mother for a younger woman when I was twelve. My mother took it hard, and was pretty depressed. A couple of years later I began to feel strange. My mother's depression was becoming my own. I'm not sure why, but somehow I knew my feelings of dread and hopelessness were not my own, but that of my mother's. I was always a happy and optimistic guy and bearing the brunt of my mother's deep depression was taking its toll on me. Not knowing what else to do I tried willing it away. The harder I thought about it, the less depressed my mother felt. I slowly began to realize that I was in touch with my mother's emotions and could influence them with my thoughts.
I became more skilled at influencing my mother as time went on. I got her to start exercising, buy nicer clothes, get her hair and make-up done, and to start dating men. In a few months she was a completely changed woman. She felt good about herself and began enjoying life again on her own without my help.
Naturally, I wanted to see if my hidden talent worked on anyone else. I had a difficult time and figured it was some sort concoction in my head until I began studying with Elizabeth. When we first began hanging out together and study, I thought of her in a completely platonic way. She was smart, much smarter than I was in science, math, and our other courses, and I had to work hard to keep up with her.
Then one day while sitting at her kitchen table studying with her I felt something. I thought it was me at first, feeling aroused, then I realized it was her. She was feeling mildly horny and I could sense it. I had almost forgot about trying to influence people, like I did my mother, until that moment.
I had a rich sexual fantasy life, masturbating to conjured images of Playboy playmates, supermodels, or some of more popular girls in school. I hadn't really thought of Elizabeth in that way, until I felt her arousal.
As time went on I could sense more and more of Elizabeth impulses and feelings. At first I couldn't influence them, but I could sense them and react to her from them. I could tell if she was feeling frustrated, sad, happy, or best of all horny. My being so in tune with her helped our relationship become much closer. However, I was disappointed when I realized that she wasn't that attracted to me, especially since I knew she had a healthy sexual appetite. As with my mother's depression, I attempted to change her feelings with the force of my will.
It took months and I almost thought it wasn't going to work, but I knew I had to keep trying. Now, I think it was finally starting to pay off.
"You're not just saying that are you?" she asked unable to look me in the eye.
"No, it's true," I said. "I've thought you were beautiful for a long time."
"Can I tell you something?" she asked.
"Anything."
"I've had one real date in my entire life and it was disaster," she said pushing up her glasses. "That's pretty pathetic for an 18 year old. I mean, when is a dork like me ever going to date, fall in love, or have sex with someone?" she continued. "I bought these fancy panties trying to fool myself a little, to make myself feel feminine, sexy, hoping...hoping that someday, someone, some guy would see...I mean see me as a woman, not just some geeky girl with glasses."
I swallowed unable to say anything for a few moments. I could definitely sense how deeply she felt about this, and I was taken aback about how open she was with me. I had been trying to get her to open up to me, but I didn't realize she would reveal her innermost thoughts to me.
Seeing her so vulnerable made me want her so bad. Coupled with the vision of her long legs and her black panties I was going crazy.
"You're not a dork," I said feeling lame and inadequate. I think you're a beautiful woman, a woman any man could ever hope to have," I continued hoping beyond hope that she might feel the same.
"You're sweet," she said.
