Fun in class again

Turns out, that whole blackout thing while I was having fun with Mrs. Hawthorne did give me a kindof telekinetic blueballs. The rest of the day my newfound powers manifested themselves in the innocent population on campus. In the dining hall a girl's hands rebelled against her as she found herself involuntary rubbing vanilla icecream over her tits. During the busride home I accidentally made a girl float out of her seat and into my lap. I figured it might be safer if I just walked the rest of the way home but found my telekinetic mind wandering into every dorm I passed, groping, squeezing, and in an **** case, lifting someone on a kitchen counter and controlling their clothes into a freinzy of foreplay. The crazy part was, I could feel every fiber move, every intangible squeeze and caress. Hell, even when I contolled that girls hands, it was like they were my hands, moving over her body. Needless to say, I figured banishing myself to bed and watching as many mindless hollow movies I could tolerate might be in the best interest of every female in a mile radius. Turns out I was wrong. Idling my mind just gave my promiscuous powers the freedom to explore further on their own. So my evening was filled with the sensations of sex, without actually having anything remotely close to sex. Which in turn made the blueballs worse, in an endless catch 22 of telekinetic hornieness, and all the while "Sleepless in Seattle" played in the background.

Somehow I fell asleep. I wouldn't have thought it possible with the sensations transmitting through my head but before I knew it I woke up to my alarm demanding my immediate preparation and departure to Mrs. Hawthorn's 11.30am class. But I wasn't about to accidentally fuck up Mrs. Hawthorn's career in public so I went back to sleep.

A few minutes later my door opened,

"Hey dude," my dormate croaked, "You coming to Mrs. H's?" I rolled over in bed, doing my best to imitate the pale effect of drywall on his attention spam.

"No man, I'm gonna skip today. Not really feeling great." My sunny disposition radiated the room.

"Oh ok, so you got extra credit for todays midterm or somthing?"

That's when it dawned on me that it was in fact midterms and if I didn't show I would probably be flunked out of my major. Then I would either find a new major or drop out and if I had to choose between flipping burgers the rest of my life or accidentally slapping Mrs. hawthorn's ass with my powers in public, I think I'll take my chances.

"Noooo, dude you know I don't have time for extra credit. Fuck I'll go. See you there."

The ride back through campus was infinitely more behaved than the one last night. I Macgyvered a playlist full of the most oppresive club music I could find, wiping out any trace of thought from my overzealous telekinetic brain, normally a terrible way to prepare for a midterm. But as luck would have it I prepared for this exam long in advance, I felt pretty confident as I walked into the large auditorium full of anxious looking classmates.

Mrs. Hawthorn sat behind her desk, organising the very papers she would comdemn to us as a marker of our success in her class.

I didn't look at her. I held my mind as far away from her curvatious 30-something body as I could. But I could feel her eyes on me. Whether that was PSI or just her lustful gaze, I couldn't determine. But it wasn't helping. That day in her office, I felt so in control. I could have done anything with her, and I would have given her the best office hours of her life if I hadn't blacked out. *NO* Have to focus. Just finish this test and then you can try with her again later, lord knows she was into it. But it wouldn't help if things got out of hand in public.

Quietly I took my place in the back row, and waited until the tests were passed around. A few minutes later Mrs. Hawthorne spoke up.

"Aaaallright everyone. Welcome to midterms. I think you'll all be happy with how easy I've gone on you. If you find this difficult you've probably not been paying much attention in class."

*Not for good reason* I thought.

"Unfortunately my teachers aid is sick today, and because teachers get paid too little anyways I decided you'll have to come get your test from my desk."

Oh JESUS. I'm going to have to walk right up to her. This is pretty much the worst case scenario. Ok think club music. Stop thinking.

My mind held in check as I shuffled to the front. It wasn't just club music that helped. I went through every possible lecture, every note I had taken, every detail that could be asked on the exam. I had no reason to worry about doing academically well, my mind was a fortress of knowledge. A fortress which crumbled like Pompeii under the volcanic heat of Mrs. Hawthorn's tight white blouse and messy bun. I slowly took my test from the heap and glanced up at the immaculate teacher seated behind her small desk. I could feel my mind reaching out. She visibly jumped in her seat and lifted her eyes to mine as I took control of her bra and panties. For a moment we kept our gaze, she squirmed in her seat and lightly panted through her mouth, a very small smile creased upon her lips. I was only able to tear away when I feared I had lingered at the front for too long and the others might start to vocally prod me.

As I excpected, the test was easy. An absolute sinch, even for someone who wasn't trying to distract themselves from telekinetically groping their teacher. So I finished early, positive of my tripple digit score and riding on the dopamine of a recently accomplished obstacle. As I packed up my things I noticed I was the first to finish. I oddly felt self conscious of turning in my paper first, I didn't want the bravado of being "that guy" who finished first, so I waited. And the high wore off. I waited for a second well studied soul to hand in their work, but nobody came to the front. As I waited I felt my eyes gaze over the professor seated piquely at the front of her classroom. Though she sat far away, I could see her suddenly straighten up in her seat as I remotely began exploring her body. Quickly she took her phone out her bag and began typing furiously. My phone buzzed in my pocket.

*Finished early have we?* Read the text message.

*Yea, easy test. How u have my nmber?*

*I'm a teacher at a state university. It's not hard to acquire one of my students phone numbers.*

*Should have guessed you would **** your power like that.* Voluntarily I upped my groping and seized both her tits with her bra, causing her to almost fall out of the flimsy wooden chair she sat in.

*Jesusss, look who's talking. You know I like this, but this is really public. I don't want to cause a stir.*

"Mrs. Hawthorne!" Came a call from the row behind me. "Mrs. Hawthorne he's using his phone!" I turned to see a girl pointing at me and waving her hand frantically. I turned back towards the front, not sure of what our next move might be.

"You! Up front! Now!" She barked. Slowly I slid from my seat, but kept telekinetic affection going over her body. As I exaggerated my shame walk to the front I noticed her cheeks were flush with color and she continually adjusted herself in her seat. Something about her lack of control and the physical proximity broke the mental failsafe I had put in place. I lifted Mrs. Hawthorn about an inch off her seat and began squeezing her ass with her skirt, causing her to yelp suddenly.

"Oh! Ohhhh youuu. You cheating s-student!" She gazed at me with a combination of fake vehemence and restraint. "Let this be a l-esson to all of YOUUU." She practically moaned as I controlled her panties to vibrate over her clit. "A l-esson to Nottttt. Not cheat on my cl-ASS. My class. I'll deal with this you ch-eater." She frantically waved my test in the air, like it contained some invisible filth that might come off if shaken hard enough. Suddenly her hands dropped the test and flew to her tits, squeezing agressively. In shock she looked down at her own body, betraying her will and back up at me.

"Sorry." Was all I said as I left the auditorium.