You get a delightful distraction.

Leaving the coffee shop, your mind is reeling from the conversation you just had with Asgitsa and it's potential implications. These dreaming abilities I have supposedly come from some unnamed, primordial gods and I've been 'volun-told' that I'm joining a fight against some seriously creepy, dangerous darkness? Granted, my encounters with it haven't been what I'd consider pleasant, but why can't I just live my life and not get involved? Crap, I wasn't exactly expecting to join some eternal war when I got up this morning.

Your thoughts run away like a freight train and you're so distracted that you almost run over a coed as you drive back to the main campus for your class. You roll down the window to apologize but she casually flicks you off and keeps walking without even turning her head to look at you. Car horns beep behind you, impatient as you sit there, and you quickly push the button to close the window, finally starting to come out of your mind-numbing fog. Pulling forward, you're able to make it to the parking lot without any further unfortunate traffic incidents.

You know that the rest of the day is shot. There's no way you'll be able to concentrate on your class, so when you enter the room ten minutes before it begins you find a quiet seat far in the back. The size of the class is much smaller than number of available seats and you know if you sit here there's a good chance that you'll have a modicum of privacy to ignore the lecture and focus on your own thoughts. Settling in, you take out your textbook, a notebook and some pens in the effort to at least look like you're trying paying attention to the professor. Then you hunker down with your thoughts and hope you get left alone.

About a minute before class starts, your hopes for solitude are dashed. Locked in your own mind once more, you don't even realize someone has entered the back row until they plop down in the seat directly to your left, breaking your concentration. You turn to give them a few choice words but they die in your throat when you discover who that person is.

It's Jean, the spectacularly busty redhead who you'd fantasized about last week in class and had then run into at the mall with your sister when she'd been shopping for a new bra. Today, she's wearing a full green and red tartan dress with spaghetti straps that leave most of her shoulders bare and an open top that lets a good portion of her hefty tits breath open air. Tiny buttons run from top to bottom, the top two artfully undone to allow her cleavage to spill out intoxicatingly and showcases her plethora of freckles quite nicely. The hem of her dress has gotten caught on the corner of the chair's seat and has ridden up high enough to expose a pair of supple thighs with rich and creamy ivory skin. Her hotness breaks through your befuddled mind and instantly gives you a boner that's painful in your pants.

Her sapphire blue eyes catch you checking her out, but she just grins roguishly and sets her things on the desk. You're unsure of why she's decided to join you. Sure, you talked briefly when you ran into her at the lingerie shop, but the only other time you'd interacted had been during a daydream. Could your abilities really extend that far? Another question you'd failed to get answers about from Asgitsa.

"Alright, let's get started," your professor intones from about 20 rows in front of you and turns to the board to start class.

You try to focus, you really do, but the words of the lecture bounce off your ears with no meaning. The discussion from this morning, coupled with the distracting form of the girl next to you makes it a hopeless endeavor. Eventually you give up entirely, sliding your eyes to the side so you can sneak glances at Jean and her smoking hot body.

About halfway through the lecture, Jean gives a tiny cough and you jerk your head from focusing on her smooth legs to her captivating face. With a deliberate wink, she sets her pen on her desk and slides her hand up the fabric of her dress until she reaches the first closed button. Slowly, with minute gestures, she undoes the clasp and then moves to the next, doubling the amount of open buttons up top. She then subtly arches her back, her giant tits pushing forward and spreading the opening wider. Your eyes bulge out almost as much as her plump melons do and when she settles back into her seat, you can see far enough down her top that a light pink nipple is exposed.

What the hell is she doing? your brain screams, while another part yells, Don't stop!

The redhead then places her textbook strategically in front of her, blocking the view from the rest of the class. Her fingers sneak underneath her dress, tracing the slopes of her breast until they reach its peak. With artful twists and pulls, you watch her manipulate her nipple with wanton pleasure, causing it to harden until it's almost a half-inch long. The whole time she's playing with her tit, she's watching your reaction, reveling in the naughty secret the two of you are sharing.

Her lips move but you don't catch what she's saying, your entire attention aimed squarely on her chest. You **** yourself to break your gaze away from her amazing mounds and look up. Soundlessly, she repeats what she mouthed previously and your cock jerks wildly at the unexpected confession.

'I'm not wearing any panties.'

With one hand still up top, the other moves to the hem of her skirt and slides it up until you can definitely confirm that her carpets and her drapes do in fact match. Jean slides lower in her seat with an attractive wiggle and opens her legs until her knee is pressed against yours. Her touch sends sparks up and down your body, sending a tingling sensation that's hard to ignore; so much so that you almost miss when she inserts one of her fingers deep into her pussy.

Her mouth opens in an 'o' but miraculously she's able to stay silent. As you watch, the beautiful redhead moves her finger back and forth, silently stroking her cunt while the rest of the class continues, oblivious. It's easily one of the most erotic scenes you've ever seen in real life. Was she always this exhibitionist, or did your daydream of fucking her while an entire prom party watches on really affect her that much.

She licks her ruby lips and, after a surreptitious glance around to make sure her private show for you is still private, she slips a second finger alongside the first and begin pumping a little faster. Juices are leaking from her pink slot and pooling on the seat of the chair. Her breasts are swelling and deflating with every breath, and one strap falls off her shoulder, riding down until almost her entire breast is completely out. But her blue eyes are so hazy that you can tell she doesn't care anymore, her only desire is to fingerfuck herself while you have a front-row view to her performance. Her desire to submit herself to you in such a manner is a heady proposition--and you must admit, incredibly arousing--and you have no intention of telling her to stop.

Jean starts to shake as her orgasm builds, sending paroxysms of shivers through her whole lush body. Then she tenses, her whole body frozen for a full ten seconds before she can't hold it back any longer. She fight valiantly to remain in her seat but her body has gone weak and she falls to the floor with a crash that finally grabs the attention of the rest of the class. Heads turn and the professor stops their lecture to peer back in your direction, searching for where the commotion came from. You feel embarrassed by the sudden attention and search for an excuse.

Luckily, you don't need one and Jean pops up to wave an apology for the distraction. Amazingly, while on the floor she had enough time to readjust her dress so that all her good bits are covered again and she retakes her seat a bit clumsily. Any redness in her face can be written off as being abashed at interrupting class.

The show has successfully driven any thoughts about being given god-like dream powers to fight in a war against an evil darkness from your head and you spent the last ten minutes of class imagining other perverted things you can do with Jean. But when the room is dismissed, the redhead sweeps her items from her desk and strides out of the room without even speaking to you at all.

It's not until your packing your own things up when you find a phone number written on the corner of a page in your notebook. When did she have time to write that without my noticing, you wonder.

You quickly program it into your phone. Shelly mentioned the need for a 'beard' to hide your relationship. Maybe you just found another possibility for that role....