The Mentalist Chronicles ­ Part 7

By Buckaroo Bonzai

	When the school year began again, I was easily the 
most experienced guy in the whole high school. I didn't brag 
about it to anyone, but as I walked the halls I knew there 
were rumors swirling around about me. The only one that I 
confirmed was that Jess and I were seeing each other. But I 
made it a point to say that we weren't going together; we 
were just dating and both of us were free to see other 
people. Not that Jess would risk doing that...unless I told 
her to. 

	My sexual prowess wasn't the only skill that I'd 
improved upon during the summer months. I'd honed my mind-
reading skills to the point where I could break down a 
person's most complex mental walls, probing thoughts, 
memories and emotions they'd kept buried for years. I was, 
frankly, amazed by the number of people who'd suffered 
childhood traumas of a sexual nature. Traumas that were 
still affecting their behavior, though they refused to see 
the connection. Even more amazing was the number of people 
who harbored intense feelings of guilt just for thinking 
certain things. As if the average person can control their 
mind so much that they can stop from thinking uncivilized 
thoughts. For instance, I discovered a neighborhood mom who 
had once dreamed that she'd seduced and fucked her son's 
best friend, a boy of about 14. Though it was just a dream, 
she still felt very guilty about it, even two years later. 

	If you look at it logically, there's no reason to feel 
that way. In fact, I can prove it. Try, for a few moments, 
to calm your mind by concentrating on your breathing. In, 
out. In, out. In, out. Once your mind stops talking to you, 
notice the kinds of thoughts that try to intrude. Most of 
them have nothing to do with real life, do they? Things 
spill over from your subconscious, unrelated thoughts 
combine, impossible fantasies bloom and fade. You have no 
control over what's generated. So why would you feel guilty 
about it?

	I'd also honed my mind-control skills over the summer, 
learning how the human mind handled a lack of information by 
supplying concepts on its own. In nearly every instance, 
gentle persuasion had worked better than brute force. The 
mind's ability to rationalize any action, no matter how 
illogical, helped me to get dozens of women in bed, legs 
spread and ready to fuck. That's not to say that I didn't 
practice on other people as well. I got everything from 
extra french fries to free entry into a few concerts, just 
by "convincing" other people that they wanted to do me a 
favor. The flush of pleasure that they felt for doing me a 
favor only confirmed that they'd done the right thing.  Of 
course, it helped that I enhanced their pleasure at serving 
me. 

	So, by the time I got back to school I had that part 
of my act pretty well under control. Or so I thought, until 
I ran into the Law of Unintended Consequences. 

	My key experience with the Law took place in October 
of that school year, and it almost got me tossed out of 
school. I'd spent most of September just getting 
reacclimated to being in school, using my mental skills only 
occasionally to rid myself of some minor annoyances. But 
overall, things  were going well, especially since I'd been 
lucky enough to get Ms. Caroline Hampton as my physics 
teacher. She was a brunette babe who, though it seemed 
impossible to my young mind, was already 32 when she joined 
the staff at my high school. Five-foot-nine-inches, 
perfectly proportioned with big breasts and pretty green 
eyes, Ms. Hampton put the rest of the teaching staff to 
shame. Not that they were all that desirable to begin with. 

	Throughout September I'd been limiting my sex to a 
weekly romp with Jess, an occasional interactive mind 
control with the neighbors, and a nightly mind probe into 
someone's memories. After the summer's orgy, you could say 
that I'd cut way back. So it wasn't surprising that Ms. 
Hampton really caught my eye. And that when fate handed me a 
key, I'd jumped right through the doorway.

	Unlike most of the guys in Ms. Hampton's  class, I 
kept my libido firmly under control. I knew from reading her 
mind that she understood the constant flirting, but felt 
that it really hurt the education we were getting. Of 
course, she also thought we were just a bunch of kids. 
Having confirmed my theory, I never probed her mind any 
deeper than that. Big mistake.

	I met up with her outside the classroom completely by 
chance. I was walking home in the rain one day when I saw 
this woman on the side of the street trying to change a flat 
tire. Figuring that I'd do my good deed for the day, I 
stopped to help. I was completely surprised to find that it 
was Ms. Hampton. It had never even occurred to me to do a 
mind probe before approaching her. But looking at her as the 
rain soaked through her white blouse and bra, with her skirt 
plastered to her slim legs, an idea blossomed in my mind. 
Even as it did, she helped it along.

	"Oh, Jason, I seem to have gotten myself in a bit of a 
bind," she remarked as I approached to help. "If you could 
help me change this tire, I can give you a ride home." 
Fortunately, I'd had a bit of experience changing tires, and 
it didn't take long to get the spare tightened and ready to 
go. Once we were safely in her car and out of the rain, it 
didn't take much of a mental suggestion to get her to take 
me to her house instead of mine. She certainly couldn't 
deliver me to my parents looking like something the cat 
dragged in. So she'd head home, get changed, get me dried 
out, and then take me home. At least, that's what she 
thought at the time.

	We made small talk as she drove through town. When we 
stopped at a light I saw some of my friends and I knocked on 
the window to get their attention, reveling in my comfort 
while they slogged through the rain. It didn't occur to me 
that they might recognize Ms. Hampton through the foggy 
windows. 

	I was surprised when we pulled into an apartment 
complex. I'd thought I'd heard her describe her nice home in 
a conversation with another teacher. As she led me up the 
stairs, she appeared to be very distracted. It was a look I 
was all too familiar with, because I was the cause of it. 
Every time a doubt would creep into her mind, I would push 
it away and replace it with a reassurance that she was doing 
the right thing. 

	Her apartment was sparsely furnished, with just a 
couple of chairs, a small dining room table and a TV. I 
followed her into the bedroom, relieved to see that she at 
least had a bed. That's all I really wanted. 

	By now, her wet clothes had really begun to itch, and 
I simply enhanced her desire to get out of them. It didn't 
take much of a projection to convince her that I wasn't 
really her student Jason, just a charming guy who looked a 
little like Jason. And that she really did owe this guy a 
good roll in bed. And besides, wasn't it really time to take 
some pleasure for herself? I knew her mind would fill in the 
rest, but I didn't bother to check out the details. All I 
cared about was the chance to fuck my beautiful physics 
teacher. 

	I sat on the bed and smiled with pleasure as she 
worked the zipper loose on her skirt and let it fall to the 
ground. She was wearing a nice, lacy pair of white satin 
panties, quite unexpected underwear for such a prudent 
teacher. She removed her blouse next, peeling the wet fabric 
from her skin. Her waist was nicely curved and her stomach 
fairly flat; a perfect appetizer for any man who would 
nibble his way down her body. As she unhooked her wet bra 
she experienced a few more doubts which I quickly quelled. 
There'd be no further interruptions in this spellbinding 
strip show. 

For as much as I'd fantasized about them, her tits did not 
disappoint me. About the size of large cantaloupes, and 
about the same shape, they didn't droop or sag in the least. 
Instead, they swelled from her body, virtually begging for 
someone to sample their sweetness. Capped with large brown 
nipples, like buttons on a doll, her tits looked like those 
on a Playboy playmate after the retouchers have gotten done. 
Only these were real. 

Like the rest of her clothes, her panties showed signs of 
the wetness, though not entirely from the weather. As she 
peeled them off, I saw that her snatch was nicely trimmed 
and her pussy lips were already beginning to fill out, 
anticipating, no doubt, the feel of my cock entering her. I 
mentally suggested that she go all out to please this 
attractive stranger. After all, I had saved her from a long 
and miserable walk home. And besides, she really wanted to 
feel a hard cock between her legs.

Once that thought was implanted, things proceeded quite 
quickly. Pulling me to her, she kissed me long and hard, her 
tongue searching and finding the farthest reaches of my 
mouth. As I struggled to remove my shirt, she fumbled with 
my jeans, finally unbuttoning the fly of my 501s. My shorts, 
like my jeans, were wet from the rain, and when she pulled 
them to the floor I shivered from the cold. All of which 
made the heat of her mouth engulfing my balls all the more 
welcome. She was as orally talented in giving blowjobs as in 
kissing, and just as passionate. 

I let her lap at my cock for a few moments while I enjoyed 
the sight of her bent over me, and enjoyed the feel of her 
tits occasionally skimming my legs.  Soon, though, lust once 
again overcame my willpower, and the need to pound into her 
became overwhelming. With a quick command I had her 
positioned over the back of a chair, her ass canted to 
receive me in either of her two holes. While her asshole 
looked invitingly tight, I didn't want to stop and prepare 
her properly. Instead, I took the easy way in, forcing my 
cock deep into her cunt with a single stroke, causing her to 
mew with delight. I set a slow and steady pace, enjoying the 
sight of my juice-slicked cock surging into her, as she 
eagerly thrust her ass backwards to meet every stroke. I 
took care not to overly enhance her enjoyment; from the heat 
and humidity of her cunt,  she was well turned-on without 
out. 

Soon I could feel the tightening in my balls, and I knew 
that it portended a huge load of cum. For a woman of such 
stunning beauty, a teacher no less, there was only one place 
to deposit my sperm. Pulling out, I motioned her to the 
floor and on her back. I loved the way her legs naturally 
fell open, inviting me to use her body for my pleasure. 
While I briefly thought about sinking my rod back into her 
pussy, the sight of her swaying tits caught my full 
attention. Straddling her body, I pressed my cock between 
her heavy boobs. She helpfully pushed them together for me, 
and I fucked her tits for several minutes. The silky feel of 
her soft flesh was the perfect contrast to the rasping touch 
of her tongue as it occasionally flicked out to lick the 
copious pre-cum from the head of my cock. 

Looking down at her dusky eyes and lusty features, it was 
hard to remember that this most excellent fuck was also my 
teacher. Keeping the classroom image of her in my mind, I 
placed one hand behind me to rub her clit, while keeping the 
other busy squeezing and twisting her boobs. "Jack me off," 
I ordered huskily, moaning when she strongly grasped my 
cock. All too soon I took over, pumping myself while trying 
to keep my cock head aimed at her face. 

I came with the power of a fire hose, covering her face in 
the first seconds. Fortunately she'd closed her eyes in 
time, as heavy pools of my pearly white cum lay steaming in 
her eye sockets, as well as streaming down the sides of her 
face. Just for the fun of it, I rubbed my still hard cock 
all over her face, getting as much of the cum to stick to it 
as possible. I even rubbed my balls and ass over her, 
ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness in anticipation of 
what would come next. 

"I want you to lick every drop of cum from me," I told her, 
cleaning the cum from her eyes with my thumbs. "Once you do 
that, maybe I'll be hard enough to get you off."

I flipped onto my back, opening my legs wide so she'd have 
full access to my dick, balls and ass. The clean-up lasted 
almost twenty exquisite minutes, extended by the fact that 
every time she got one area cleaned up, the remaining cum on 
her face had messed up another area. The touch of her tongue 
on my asshole was especially tantalizing, and I promised 
myself to explore that sensation more fully in the future. 
Finally, though, she knelt obediently between my legs, 
hoping and waiting for a reward.

Despite my promise to fuck her until orgasm, I decided to 
take another tack. Guiding her to the bed, I positioned her 
on her back, with her ass on the edge and her legs dangling 
off. Then I knelt between her legs to finger and explore her 
most inviting cunt. Her cunt lips were slightly parted, 
thanks to the splay of her legs. Rosy red from my 
ministrations, and slightly swollen, her shaved slit fairly 
quivered before my eyes. A single finger, stroking from top 
to bottom, easily slipped inside, her juices facilitating 
any intrusion, no matter how unintentional. With two fingers 
I parted her outer lips, revealing an interior as dark and 
mysterious as any cave. With the parting came her distinct 
scent, a not unpleasant combination of animal musk and a 
subtle earthy smell. 

Leaning forward, I licked the exterior of one cunt lip and 
then the other, smiling at the way it made her quiver and 
squirm. Two more soft and slow licks later, I suddenly 
plunged my tongue as deep into her cunt as I could, stopping 
only when my teeth and jaw grated on the bones inside. 
Holding her captive on my tongue, I brutally chewed and 
gnawed at the folds surrounding my tongue, stopping only 
when I ran out of air. Releasing her only momentarily, I 
turned my attention to her clit, stimulating it directly 
with my tongue and teeth. No more than a minute later, she 
came against my face, her body thrashing against the bed, 
and her cries echoing against the walls. 

Then, though I knew it might be painful for her, I thrust my 
cock back into her cunt, twisting to bite and gnaw on her 
nipples all the while. As I fucked her, I mentally suggested 
that we meet again the next week, where she could continue 
to reward me for helping her. Without thinking about the 
consequences, I also restored knowledge that I was indeed 
Jason, her student, and that she should give me an "A" in 
her class. In my hurry to fill up her pussy with my cum, I 
didn't even notice the panic-stricken guilt in her face.



My first inkling that I'd messed up came in school the next 
day when I encountered three of my friends.

"We saw you in Hampton's car yesterday," Marcotti said to me 
in an insinuating voice. "And you weren't headed towards 
your house, either."

"No, that wasn't me," I said aloud, projecting the thought 
to him at the same time. 

"It wasn't him," Marcotti repeated, obviously out of context 
with the conversation. 

"Yes it was," Stern piped in, giving Marcotti an odd look. 
"You're the one who said it was him in the first place," he 
added.

"Yeah," added Carter. "And you're the one who told everyone 
else, that, too."

While I didn't like to mess with my friends, this had to be 
taken care of, and quickly. But after a quick brain scan of 
all three of them, I found that they'd each told dozens of 
other people. And if that was the case, then practically the 
whole school would know by now. Clearly I needed to think 
this through. I was just getting ready to 'change their 
minds when I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I 
was amazed to see Ms. Hampton, accompanied by Mr. Thurmond, 
the principal. Unprepared for this, I felt myself blush deep 
red, causing my friends to grin even wider. Dummy! I scolded 
myself. You need to control your reactions better than this. 
I saw Ms. Hammond and Mr. Thurmond share a look; my blush 
evidently confirmed their theory, whatever it was. The only 
thing I could do was go along with it and try and fix it all 
later.

As we settled into Mr. Thurmond's office, I finally took the 
time to deeply scan Ms. Hammond's mind. Three important 
facts immediately surfaced. One, Ms. Hammond and Mr. 
Thurmond were married - but separated! Two, they'd been 
working on getting back together, and she was worried that 
I'd thrown a monkey-wrench into things. And three, she'd 
told Mr. Thurmond everything about our encounter the 
previous day! No wonder she was worried.

I quickly tuned out Thurmond's lecture, knowing that I'd be 
fixing things between them. After all, it's one thing to 
take some sexual pleasure from someone. It's quite another 
to ruin their lives for it. Even as a teenager I could tell 
the difference between right and wrong. 

Scanning both of them, I quickly saw the best way to patch 
over this unfortunate incident. Just a few adjustments to 
their memories, and voila, we were suddenly talking about my 
amazing transformation from a "C" student to an "A" student. 
As Thurmond blathered on about my accomplishments, I took 
the opportunity to eavesdrop on a recent memory I found in 
both of their minds. His was the strongest, so I dropped 
in...

...to find the two of them locked in a passionate embrace, 
their lips urgently seeking the others, their tongues 
writhing like snakes. He looks down at her and knows he must 
have her again. He senses guilt. Did he seduce her? Did she 
seduce him? It's not part of their agreement, but he must 
give her pleasure, and take his own. 

He unzips the back of her dress and pushes the spaghetti 
straps from her shoulders, and then pulls the fabric to her 
waist. Her black lacy bra accentuates her cleavage; it's 
been so long since he buried his head there. He feels an 
irresistible urge to munch on her breasts, to actually bite 
and chew them as if he could consume them. Submerging this 
urge, he instead bends and suckles her nipples through the 
bra, knowing that she's completely vulnerable there. His 
cock is hard within his pants. He purposely presses it 
against her leg so she knows how much he needs her. He 
expected her to protest this breach, and had actually 
planned to show his good faith by rolling off her at the 
first sign of protest. But only her moans and gasps reach 
his ears.

Thus encouraged, he pushes her bra up to reveal her full 
tits, the engorged nipples crowning acres of smooth, 
delectable skin. He notices that her arms, hair and head are 
tangled in the bra's construction. Seeing her semi-tied 
gives him an adrenaline rush of power. With her hands 
preoccupied, he removes her dress , thrilled that she helps 
him by raising her butt off the couch. She's wearing a high-
cut black g-string that barely covers her pussy, molding as 
it does to the contours of her lips. Black thigh-high 
stockings and black high-heels complete her ensemble. He's 
been seduced, but doesn't care. 

She's made no effort to free her hands from their lacy 
captivity. She's stretched out on the couch, bare-chested, 
lust-laden, fully exposed and vulnerable. He wants her so 
much he can barely contain himself. Working frantically he 
tears his shirt from his back, and removes his pants and 
socks with almost comic bumbling. She doesn't seem to 
notice, for which he's grateful. Clad only in his briefs, he 
bends to remove her final silken covering. Her pussy is just 
as he remembers it, the full lips flush with the promise of 
heavenly delights. 

He flashes back to a blond woman laying naked before him in 
an unkempt bed. Her legs slowly splay open to reveal a 
hairless pussy. His gaze travels upward, past the soft 
swelling of her stomach, past the tiny bellybutton, past the 
childishly small breasts with their pouty nipples, up to a 
disingenuous smile upon an innocent, childlike face. She 
is...his sin, his ex-student, the reason for their 
separation, the reason for being denied the pleasures of the 
woman he loved.

He rejects the image to focus once more on the beauty 
beneath him. Thankfully, she still has her eyes closed; she 
hasn't seen his fleeting infidelity. In desire tinged with 
guilt, he crouches between her legs, massaging her cunt with 
his tongue, remembering the sweet taste of her.  It doesn't 
take long to bring her to the edge and over. As she writhes 
in pleasure before him, her breasts heaving, her legs 
twitching, her cunt humping, he is once more consumed by a 
desire to consume her. The need to engulf her, to take her, 
is indescribable. Words cannot express the urgency flowing 
through his body. 

Her eyes fly open as she hears him remove his briefs. He 
stands proudly before her, welcoming her inspection. Her 
eyes lock on his hardened cock. She watches it intently as 
he lowers himself over her. Still entangled in the bra, all 
she does to help is spread her legs wide, revealing a home 
for his stiff rod: her wet, red trembling cunt. He 
gratefully sinks into her, even as glints of other memorable 
fucks pass through his mind. This time, though, they all 
feature her.

As he slowly strokes into her, she brings her enmeshed hands 
around his head, pulling him down for a long, passionate 
kiss. A wave of tension leaves his body, replaced by the 
passion he feels for this woman. Right now they're not 
fucking, they're making love. And he tries to project his 
feelings for her wherever they're in contact, from his cock 
to her cunt, stomach-to-stomach, when her nipples brush his 
chest, in their kiss. 

They luxuriate in the feeling, though he begins to be 
distracted by a familiar tightening in his scrotum. He'll 
cum soon, he knows, and it'd be more important to do it this 
way than to listen to his body's demands for a more 
explosive ending. But she's  as attuned to his body as he is 
to hers.

"Take me doggy-style. Now." She seems to read his mind.

He kneels back as she flips over, her bountiful ass sticking 
up in the air. Her pussy is swollen open just below the 
cleft of her ass. He's not sure whether he wants to gobble 
it up or fuck the hell out of it. Ramming his cock home, 
deep into her hot and sticky folds, he answers that 
question. His penetration of her in this way makes him feel 
supremely powerful. She's more than his wife now. She's his 
most precious possession. She's the source of his happiness. 
She's the one thing he can control. She's what makes him a 
man. 

The cum shoots from him like water from a hose, a pressure 
suddenly released to coarse and stream within her heated 
cave. He kneels triumphantly over her as she finally looks 
back to see the pleasure on his face. He feels like a 
conquering hero, and he's pleased to see the understanding 
in her eyes. He pulls himself from her, watching a thin 
trail of cum detach itself from her pussy lips to land upon 
the couch. He'll cuddle with her now. Not because it's 
something that she wants, but because it's something he 
needs...

...I exit his mind to find the two of them staring at me. 

"Yes," I agreed, in answer to their just posed question, 
"there's more to be learned than what you get in the 
classroom. And thanks to the two of you, I'll be paying a 
lot more attention to my homework, too."