Disclaimer: Adultery, betrayal, non-consent. A lot of things here that people might not like. Proceed with caution.
*****
My name is Alex, and I'm a freak. I'm 27 years old, and I've felt like a freak for over half my life.
It started when I was maybe twelve years old. I slowly began to develop strange abilities, so slowly that I didn't even realize my perception was changing. At first, I began noticing people's desires. Not reading their thoughts or anything so specific, just a general sense of a want. I'd be in line for fast food, and I'd suddenly have a strong notion of what the person in front of me wanted. Every time, my instinct would be correct, and they would order what I guessed.
I didn't realize what was developing until specific thoughts started leaping into my head, especially thoughts driven by great emotion. I could see angry outbursts coming seconds before they happened. I started to use the information in subtle ways, like not being in the room seconds before my dad lost his temper.
As the power developed, I started taking advantage of it. I would ask out a girl, and if I sensed a negative answer was coming, I would claim I was joking and walk away. Cowardly teenager shit. But I avoided a lot of embarrassment.
When I left home and went to university, the excitement and stress of the new environment created an explosion of new ability. On my first night in dorms, I woke with a start at 1 am. I stumbled from my bed. My body felt light and airy. I wandered to the door and into the hall. I turned and looked back at the door, realizing I couldn't remember opening it. I drifted down the hall in a daze, through the fire door at the end of the hall (again, without opening it) and floated down the stairs. As I got further and further from my room, I got sleepier and sleepier. By the time I got to the lobby of my building I was almost unconscious. I passed a couple of students sneaking into the building after hours, but they didn't even acknowledge my presence. I exited the building... and ceased to be.
I woke the next morning convinced it was a dream, until I heard about a couple of students getting caught sneaking into the building after hours. From that moment on, I became obsessed with my powers. I started researching astral projection, and I practiced it nightly. Within a month I had explored every room in my building, knew which students were hard-studying night owls, and which students were proficient at sneaking girls back to their rooms. I doubtlessly would have become quite the peeping tom, but my building only had boys dorms, and I discovered that the further I got from my body the weaker I became. So I limited my exploration to my own building.
By the time I finished university, I would spend a few hours out of every night astral projecting. Sometimes I would sit in another student's room while they watched TV. I appreciated the company, even if they didn't know I was there. Sometimes I would float outside my dorm window, letting myself drift in the sky, inching further and further away from my room, until eventually my form lost cohesion and I returned to my sleeping body.
When I was 24 I got married. Her name was Kim, and we met in a chem class. We became lab partners, and then life partners. Kim was everything I wasn't. Kim was short, almost a foot shorter than my lanky six foot three frame. Where my hair was flat and messy, Kim had beautiful, bouncy curls, almost a natural perm. Where I was quiet and reserved from a lifetime of fear of being discovered as a freak, Kim was friendly and outgoing. What she saw in me, I can only guess. Perhaps my natural quietness was soothing for her in her busy life. Regardless, she chose me and I was grateful. We married shortly after university, and it wasn't long after that I experienced another shift in my abilities.
During our first year of marriage, I noticed that I was dreaming about my wife a lot, vivid and real-feeling. The dreams could take place anywhere, but felt as normal and grounded as if I were in my own living room. One fantastic dream saw us making love against the railing at the top of the Eiffel Tower, while onlookers smiled and offered encouragement. The next morning at breakfast, my wife gushed to me about her vivid dream, and I almost choked on my toast.
I began experimenting with this strange new ability, and my wife was my test subject. I would enter her dreams, spend some time with her. I would try talking to her, telling her untrue "facts" about myself, and seeing if she recounted these facts during her conscious hours. It turns out her memory of the dreams was sharp, much more accurate and complete than typical dream memories. I also found if I entered her mind early on in the sleep cycle, I could create and choose her dreams for her.
Up until Christmastime of my 27th year, my abuses of power had been relatively small and benign. After that Christmas, the sky was the limit. Or more appropriately, hell was the limit.
*****
My in-laws showed up at our home a couple weeks before Christmas. My father-in-law, Charlie, had been ill the past few years, and Kim wanted to make sure she had as much time with her folks as possible in case it was their last as a family. Charles's prostate cancer was currently in remission, but both Kim and her mother Claire were keen to build up a trove of family memories together. So I reluctantly agreed to the extended Christmas stay.
They arrived on a Saturday afternoon when Kim was out at an aqua-fit class. "Alex! You look so handsome!" Claire beamed at me as she rushed forward to give me a hug. I tried to ignore her large breasts squishing against my chest as she clung to me tightly. "It was a hell of a drive. It's so good to be here finally!" She released me and stepped inside.
Charlie smiled warmly and shook my hand, "Good to see you again, young man." He looked weaker than before the cancer, but there was colour in his cheeks, and a bit of a spring back in his step.
Kim's folks were fiftyish and unapologetic ex-hippies. Charles had had a ponytail most of his adult life, until chemo forced him to shave his head. Claire had always had extremely long hair that hung down to her ass, but she had cut it in solidarity with her husband. Now that he was in remission, both of them were growing their hair again. Charlie still looked like he had been ill, but I thought Claire's short haircut kinda suited her.
I closed the door and offered to take their coats. As I opened the hall closet, I felt a rush of powerful emotion overwhelm me. I staggered slightly as I reached for the door frame to steady myself.
It was lust.
I turned just in time to catch Claire's eyes flick away from staring at my ass. Claire was attracted to me?? It was an unexpected and pleasing sensation.
As quick as the wave of lust came, it was replaced with an equally powerful wave of guilt as Claire turned towards her husband and started helping him with his coat. I could see suddenly how much of a toll the cancer had taken on their marriage. Whatever ways Charlie had recovered, sexually was not one of them.
Charlie yawned, "If it's all right with you, I'll have a little lie down on the couch. It was a long drive."
"Of course," I said sympathetically, "You must be drained."
Claire smiled gently at her husband as he wandered into the living room. Then she turned to me and said perkily, "Ok, Alex, make me a coffee and give me an update on everything!"
I busied myself in the kitchen making coffee while Claire hopped on a bar stool, leaning against the island. As I ground the coffee, I felt a swell of lust surge from Claire again, and I smiled to myself. She must be staring at my ass again. I reached around and cupped my ass cheek under the guise of scratching it, and was rewarded with another surge of arousal. I had never experienced anything like this level of desire before, not from anybody, including Kim. It was both funny and an incredible turn on.
While the coffee brewed I turned around and looked Claire in the eye. "So Claire," I said, not breaking eye contact, "How have you been lately?" I smiled sympathetically, knowing things had been rough for them. She swallowed awkwardly. I could feel her arousal was being maintained by the eye contact, and I held it for fun.
"Well, you know, remission is great," Claire said carefully, "Charlie has been doing MUCH better these days. Still recovering his energy, but it's night and day difference from just a few months ago."
"Of course," I nodded and smiled, letting my hand "absent-mindedly" scratch and adjust my balls slightly. "I was so happy to hear the good news. It must be such a relief."
There was a rush of anxiety from Claire, and her cheeks reddened as she shifted in her seat. I tried to pinpoint the anxiety, and then realized suddenly: she's uncomfortable because she's WET.
