Nudges

With a thought, he focused on the raven-haired, stalwart girl, and went with the first thing that came to mind.

Take your pencil, he thought, and place it in your cleavage.

He held a breath.

The diligent high school girl, as was known, was also very well-endowed. Her breasts looked to be at least DD's, and with the way they strained against her sweater, her bust's curvy, shapely allure was undeniable, no matter how much she tried to conceal them.

She'd been large-chested for a good portion of her high school years; contrasting with her relatively straight edged manner, it often served as a source of crude locker room talk amongst the guys that knew her. She disliked the attention, and the eschewed stares and ogling that followed. Being taken seriously as a fresh-faced young woman was hard enough as it were, without extra properties. Guys constantly piling on her for it didn't make things any easier.

So of course, when Daniel's thoughts drifted her way, the first thing that came to mind was that.

Another breath of air left him as he sat there and waited. It felt like hours. Finally, after a couple seconds or three, Theresa looked down at her desk. Then, with her right hand, she unfolded it from her arms and picked up her idling pencil from the desk's surface. With one clean motion, she proceeded to stuff it before the front of her breasts, just behind the front-facing fabric of her sweater.

Daniel's heart skipped a beat. He looked around. The class was still fixated on Mr. Gregory, because of course they were. While he was breaking all known laws of science, or pushing the envelope, anyway, the world went on absolutely heedless of the most amazing thing happening that very moment.

Probably.

The rattled boy looked back at Theresa, and frowned.

As great as it was to see his mental influences a success, unfortunately, his busty, dark haired classmate wasn't at the best viewing angle. Daniel breathed out, and having come up with another idea, decided to set it into motion.

Remove your pencil from your cleavage, he focused, and with the eraser's end of it... rub your right nipple.

He could hear a nun keel over at the lewdness. But he didn't care. He was the judge now.

Another second passed.

He tapped his fingers impatiently against his desk.

Then, to his stomach churning anticipation, Theresa glanced down again. Then back up. After a small laugh from a dry joke Mr. Gregory made, she looked back down and plucked the pencil out from her sweater. Daniel watched anxiously as she folded her arms again below her chest, her left hand brushing against her bosom. She twirled the pencil with her fingers until finally, she set it perpendicular to her two appendages. Then without a single half hearted gesticulation, she aimed it self-ward, pressed it against her right boob like a drill into a plot of dirt, and pushed, causing her sweater to converge around the center of her nipple. The pencil became virtually swallowed up in her thick breast as she wriggled it against her hardy, hefty orb without a shred of shame.

Daniel nearly choked up a hairball. Luckily, he didn't, as that would've turned a few heads. And hurt.

Theresa, meanwhile, continued to circle and move the pencil around, pushing its eraser end against her nipple like it had been a badly written sentence.

She flicked the eraser up and down against her breast's little nub. Then like an oil pump, pushed hard upon it. The pencil nearly slipped downward before she casually released it. Then she pushed down again, which she followed by more acute, incessant rubbing, causing her sweater to bunch up along the curvature of her breast at the friction. At this rate, it looked like she was going to start generating static.

'The Static Nipple'. Sounded like a cool superheroine.

Out of hearing range of the others of the class, Daniel's breaths became slightly harried, his body pulsing with a familiar excitement as he adjusted his position in the back row.

Okay, he thought to himself, sitting up in his chair. With a gaudy gaze, he re-calibrated, directing his invaluable audience back to Theresa.

Okay.

Time for a more traditional gesture.

Exerting another sequence of breaths, he pulled back and thought intently towards the girl.

Put the pencil down. Then grab your right breast and squeeze it. Nice and firmly.

Theresa dropped her pencil onto her desk. She brought her left hand upward. A silent wind of Mt. Olympus whistled through Daniel's soul as he bore witness to her next move.

With innocent nonchalance, she grabbed her right breast, pushed down on it, and squeezed it with her soft hand. Meaty flaps of her breast peered through the gaps of her fingers as she gave it a good, sturdy clasp. Daniel subconsciously looked to heaven. Once he'd collected himself, he turned his eyes back to Theresa. She was back in a normal, unassuming posture. Her arms folded underneath her chest, her attention focused on the front of the class, where Mr. Gregory was spewing something.

"And what were they called?" the teacher's disaffected voice beckoned the class.

"Vassals," a third or so of the room responded, Theresa included. Her arms unraveled upon the desk.

"And what did they do?"

"They held property in exchange for loyalty." One row away, Elaine took a look behind her. She subtly furrowed her expression.

Obliviously, Daniel quietly sat in his chair, afloat in a world of his own; a world of surmountable boundaries and invasions of the basest realm of privacy known to man -- that of the mind.

He shook himself back to the present.

Nevertheless, he and Daniel Jr. remained a little dismayed at the briefness of that earlier display. His pupils glided to his left, at the girl's sweater fitted back. Her breaths lifted her back up and down in a barely notable, seamless vitality.

Daniel brought his hands together, resting his lips against them. Theresa had it in her for some more, he knew. And whether she did or not, he would be the one calling the shots anyway.

The flat-haired teen looked up, focused, and sent another thought.

Squeeze your breast again, he thought at her. This time, give it a good, manly grope.

Once again, a second or two passed. Then Theresa's hand flinched. Slowly at first, then steadily, she lifted her right hand from her desk up to her breast. Then, eyes still facing forward, she pushed and heaved her hand into her chest. A slightly disconnected sheen was nestled in her eye as she fixed said opticals on Mr. Gregory's stilted motions. Below, her own motions continued. She hugged her soft orb into her palm, giving it a jiggle, her elbow having reached over to Ned's desk as she did. Then she firmly squeezed it, and dug her hands into her supple skin. Her fingers pushed into her pillowy tissue passionately. It almost looked like she was enjoying it more than him.

Daniel watched as the flesh of her breast became a compressed curvature and showcased a full, firm globe of fiber. He had taken notice of it before, but only now truly appreciated it. Thanks to her strong, mentally **** fingers, he was treated to a lovely encore.

After the brief episode, however, it ended as quickly as it had begun. She began returning her hand to the cradle of her elbow. Daniel straightened up and concentrated.

Again.

Theresa's hand froze. Then, in another self-groping act, she rose it up and clapped it against the mound of her breast. She squished it, rough and un-ladylike, pushing it upon the weight of her fingers and rustling her sweater. After a mesmerizing second or two, she let go and released her breast from her hand.

Daniel's brow throbbed.

Again.

A second later, she drew her hand inward, bent her fingers and squeezed her chest once more.

Again.

Reversing in mid-air, her fingers once again halted their fall, thrusted backward and familiarly ganged up on her playdough of a breast, squishing and pressing and kneading.

Again!

Her breast buried into her palm as she fondled it palpably and unceasingly until finally, Daniel broke away. The flustered boy rolled backward against his chair. Across from him, a slightly flustered Theresa let out a deliberate exhalation. She re-folded her arms, this time keeping them properly before her. Her glorious chest was left at peace; slightly jostled, probably a little aggrieved, yet nonetheless precious, inexorable peace. But otherwise, she made no indication of innate suspicion -- of any awareness of what had just transpired. Of any concerned mental forks in the road.

Like a tear in reality, that only he, Daniel, could see. Manipulate. Mend to his desires.

He laughed a single breath.

This was crazy. He'd already remade history, gotten a blowjob in the middle of an office, and planted thoughts in his own sister that he witnessed the results of first-hand... but the intimate, juxtaposing nature of this still shook him to the core.

Crazy. It was crazy!

And yet...

Absentmindedly, his hand wrapped itself around his branded wrist. A momentary flash of reflection.

...he just couldn't stop.

His mind lifted, and he turned his focus back to the classroom, and the rest of the people in it. He noticed Elaine looking at him, and cleared his throat, wiping the look of dumbstruck awe off his face.

The dirty blonde was giving him an inquisitive look over her shoulder that made him fairly queasy and he wasn't keen enough to read it.

Her eyes bespoke a certain suspect air, though. One that he had witnessed -- and been on the receiving end -- more than a few times in the past. One that said, 'Hmm,' and 'Are you for real,' in equal measure. That was as sharp as a gong and quiet as an incantation. She must have picked up on something.

Daniel's eyes widened. His fingers flattened themselves against his pants.

Could it be?

He glanced back at her, but his old childhood friend was already turned forward, her face haunched on her hand.

Did she see him looking at Theresa? Did she see Theresa's rather inappropriate burst of interest in her own breast?

Daniel looked down, spinning his pencil over his fingertips.

No, she couldn't have known. Not 'that'. Though that's not to say what she might have concluded was that much better. But still.

The teen frowned.

For some reason, he felt uneasy about Elaine catching wind of him and his new abilities. He had planned to tell his friends (which they'd dubbed the Gang) at some point...

But really, he felt like it was better if he kept it secret. You know. Low key.

Well, maybe not secret. Just something that only he'd know.

A mixed bag formed in Daniel's stomach. He wasn't sure exactly where it came from.

If any of 'em did find out, he could always just make it so they forgot if they were uncomfortable with it, right? Or just make it so they didn't mind?

Right?

Daniel folded his arms over his torso and shook his thoughts away.

Why was he feeling this now? The point was, he was the king of the world. If an issue arose, he'd figure out a way to quell it.

There would always be a way.

Looking back at Elaine, whose back still remained turned, Daniel tapped a foot and pushed forward in his seat. He might as well get some notes in; after all, now, his brain really was his most valued organ.