"You've been reading ahead Joanie," the professor Dr. Stone said. Dr. Sandra Stone was a good-looking woman around the judge's age.
"Yes, ma'am, I suppose I have. Fascinating stuff, case law," I said. I heard Mary and Samantha giggling softly over my response. I could not blame them!
As I was daydreaming about Judge Kavany lying on top of me and poking at me with his cock, Mary gave me a poke in the ribs and I realized Judge Kavany was asking me a follow-up question! The answer did not come to me this time, but I discovered I could suddenly see into his mind.
I saw the answer he wanted but I saw some other things one should never see! I spoke out the answer and then asked if I could be excused for the restrooms. Dr. Stone was clearly impressed with me, I could tell as I left the room.
I went to the ladies and began my panic attack. All thoughts of seducing and bedding Judge Kavany were gone! What I saw in his mind nobody should see. I saw an image of Dr. Sandra Stone, lying on the floor, legs splayed, naked, with cum dripping out of her pussy, and a knife in her chest, with blood seeping out and pooling by her body. What kind of f**ked up fantasy life did the old Judge have, anyway?
I was not sure if I should warn Dr. Stone or what? What would I say? I saw into the judge's mind and it looks like he's planning to fuck you and then kill you? Or maybe he's into necrophilia and he'll use the opposite order? Who knows?
Get real, Joanie, I told myself. Necrophilia is super rare. No, he's just fantasizing rape and murder. Or maybe consensual sex and then murder? Stop it! I told myself.
Oh! Of course. Silly me. He's imagining her Halloween costume! I began to relax. Lots of us pretend we have knives in us and are bleeding for Halloween. Yes, that must be it. Still though, she was clearly naked and just fucked. Halloween plus wish fulfillment? Yeah, I'll go with that.
I had never seen Dr. Stone as a sex object, just as a teacher. Dr. Kavany clearly saw her differently! Whoa.
I went back to class and luckily Judge Kavany had finished. Dr. Stone was lecturing again and suddenly I saw into her mind, and there was a picture of a naked and smiling Judge Kavany, his cock erect and sticking straight out, with a little pre-cum at its tip. One does not expect one's teacher to have such fantasies while she is teaching us! I chastised myself for invading her privacy, even if I had done it unintentionally.
I figured out these were some of my magical powers I would be vested with on my twenty-first birthday. I was getting them a little early, and with no idea how to control them. All it did was make me nervous. I looked away from Dr. Stone and Judge Kavany and instead looked aimlessly around the room. I focused on Dylan, good old harmless Dylan and OMG Dylan was imagining me naked. Me! His image of me naked was pretty accurate, too. How embarrassing!
I knew men like to 'undress women' with their eyes, but here I had proof that Dylan was doing just that with me! This was soooo creepy!
No, wait a minute, maybe not so creepy? Maybe Dylan likes me? Of course, he likes me. I mean maybe he likes me 'that way?' Maybe I could seduce Dylan and add him to my list of conquests? I know it's supposed to be the men who think in terms of conquests, but hey, girls can too! It's not exactly #MeToo, but it's something.
I wrote a note, folded it, wrote Dylan on the front, and passed it to the guy sitting next to me. He passed it on and it came to Dylan. I looked over at him as he read it. He looked at me, and I winked at him with my left eye. My note asked him to meet me behind the oak tree in the Stevens Quad, right after class.
I met Dylan there. He was puzzled. "What's this about?" he asked. He had a sexy voice.
I smiled at him and handed him my bra. He looked at it and he looked at me. "It's a Victoria's Secret C-cup lace bra. Please return it when you take me to dinner tonight. Want to fondle my boobs?" I said, as I lifted my sweater exposing my bare boobs to him. They were a close match to his fantasy portrait of them I had seen when I looked into his mind.
Dylan was in a state of shock.
"Go on, Dylan, touch them. They won't bite," I said. "We only have a few minutes before somebody sees us, you know."
Dylan reached for my boobs and fondled them lovingly and he played with my nipples, of course. My nipples are rather big and just then they were as hard as two bullets. "Pick me up at seven tonight, okay, Dylan? You decide where to take me. I'll make it worth your while. The nicer the meal, the more of me you get tonight, understand?"
That night I deliberately did not wear a bra. After all, Dylan was bringing me one, right? I wore a designer T shirt that fit my curves nicely. It had a V neck. The V neck went so low that the T shirt was designed to be worn with a camisole underneath it. I skipped the camisole. This meant my date (Dylan) would have great views of my lace bra, if I had my lace bra to wear. Without my bra, he would have great views of my bare boobs and even of my nipples if I leaned forward the right way. Dylan would not know what hit him!
Not that it matters, I also wore a nice skirt, short but not too short, and low heels. I wore no hose, just in case I wanted to flash my 'Hello Kitty' panties. The kitty is winking right over my pussy, and winking, after all, is one of my trademarks.
Dylan picked me up and off we went and he could not stop looking at my boobs, and trying (and failing) to see my nipples. I was enjoying teasing him. Once we were seated at the restaurant he ostentatiously handed me my bra across the table. I noticed his best friend was at a neighboring table with quite a pretty girl as his date. Both his friend and his date saw my bra being passed to me. This could not be due to chance. Dylan and his friend George were planning something.
Dylan forced me to lean forward, showing off all my boobs and my nipples to him and perhaps to his friend George, in order for me to get my bra. I got up and excused myself to go the ladies and stopped at Dylan's friend's table and invited his girlfriend to join me. She did. We exchanged names (she's Claire), and had girl talk in the bathroom. I could see into her mind. This was getting stranger and stranger. I learned a lot.
"Dylan, I don't swing, and we're not having a foursome with your friend George and Claire tonight. We might not even be having a twosome," I announced, returning to the table, now wearing my bra. "By the way, Claire does not want a foursome either. She's terrified of it, but she's a submissive and she knows that you and George want it, so she's willing to play along. I'm not."
"You learned all that with Claire in less than five minutes in the ladies' room?" Dylan asked.
"Yes. I'm quick. This is however the best restaurant in town, and don't worry you will get a reward," I said, winking at him with my left eye as I reached under the table and slipped off my Hello Kitty panties. I handed them to him. They were a little wet already. "Go ahead, Dylan. Give them a sniff."
Dylan sniffed and gave a big smile. He then handed them to George and I was outraged. I was humiliated, too, as first George and then Claire sniffed my panties, too. Before my rage bubbled out of my mouth, the wine steward came. I took my revenge by ordering an expensive French wine, Chateau Something or Other, which would cost Dylan a pretty penny, maybe taking him to the limit of his visa card!
The wine was almost my undoing. Alcohol makes me easy. I got so drunk I almost let Dylan fuck me while George and Claire watched. I managed to get away with 'only' letting them get me naked and giving two blowjobs, one for each man. As Dylan fucked Claire, George came over to me. We began to kiss and George began to finger me as we stood, kissing. The alcohol, the two blowjobs, and George's fingering combined to make me an easy target.
I sank to the floor as my knees got weak, all the time watching my own date fuck another girl. Geroge was getting into position and if I did not do something quick, I was about to add yet another "conquest" to my list of four men who had already laid me.
I said "No, George," and I slipped out from underneath him. As he looked at me without comprehension I got dressed and got the hell out of there! Claire was moaning loudly as I slipped out, gently closing Dylan's front door. I flagged a taxi and headed home.
As I rode home I thought about how nasty that had been. I always try, however, to find a silver lining. It must be the witch in me. I did get to compare in a back to back way the taste of the two men's cum. They tasted similar and yet there were subtle differences, too. It gave me an idea: Should we girls start a blog rating the taste of men's cum? Make it kind of like a restaurant guide, with stars and descriptions?
I could begin with Dylan's cum. I could write, "Dylan's cum had nice viscosity and good color, a lovely combination of white and yellow, even if the effect from a distance was a certain transparent clarity. It lingered on the palate with overtones of heavily salted baked potato, and yet with a touch of soy and just a hint of wasabi. A good pairing with Coca Cola Light. Three stars ***"
For George's cum, I would write, "George's cum had an attractive bright white color reminiscent of the sand at Carmel Beach, but with poor viscosity, making it runnier than average. Whatever subtle flavors might otherwise be present were overwhelmed by its salty nature. There were, however, subtle hints of salted broccoli, with a flinty under taste, accompanied by a stale bouquet that was not appealing. A good pairing with a full-bodied IPA. Two stars **"
I figured I could collect more snippets from my friends and all the girls I know, and we could start the modern equivalent to Facebook! We'd call it Spunkbook. We'd begin, though, keeping it sub rosa. We'd use hard copy, i.e. paper, not the internet, and it would circulate privately, sort of a samizdat guide to the cum of our men, hee hee.
What do you think? Does Spunkbook have a future? Want to contribute? Let me know!
You know, I have these wonderful ideas all the time, but I never act on them, alas. I could be rich otherwise, I'm sure.