The Idris Stone: More uses for Power.

Today was a free day for me. I had only to turn up at The University and record my presence. Once I had done that, I could choose what to do with my time. I spent it in the University’s extensive library trying to find something, anything, about the stone. The only references I could find were to various fictional stories that contained the use of some kind of magical stone or amulet.

I had brought the envelope with the stone and the note with me. I walked over to another part of the Uni and cornered Professor Stimpson, head of the antiquities department.

Shaking the stone out onto my palm, I offered it to Professor Stimpson, “What do you make of this, Arthur?” I asked him.

“It’s a piece of coal,” Arthur told me, not taking it from my hand.

“Is it?” I asked. “It seems much denser than coal.”

Arthur took the stone from me and examined it.

“You’re right,” he said. “Too heavy to be coal. Anthracite perhaps? Nothing valuable, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I sometimes think I can see, or kind of feel, as if there’s carvings or words on it,” I told him.

“Let’s have a look,” Professor Stimpson said.

He took the stone across to a microscope. Then, turning the light on, he placed it under the scope.

“Hmm,” he said. “Looks like ‘glyphic cartouche’. The language of the ancient Mayans. If it is, this is one hell of a discovery, John. Where did you get it?”

“My great-great-grandfather bequeathed it to me,” I replied. “Can you translate it for me?”

“Some, maybe,” Arthur replied. “It looks like most of the writings have been worn away.”

He went to his shelf and pulled down a book. Working swiftly, he wrote the following:

The stone __ ___is.

Beware __ ____ ___ me ___ I __ power.

I knew what the rest was.

“I’ve got an appointment, Arthur,” I said. “Thanks for that.”

“Wait, there’s more,” The professor stalled. “I’ve only just begun. It’s remarkable. I didn’t know the Mayans had the technology to write this small.”

I had a strange sense of foreboding. If awareness of the stone’s value and its historical place got out, it would be impossible for me to keep it. I wanted to keep it.

“I think it would be best if you completely forgot I was even here, Professor Stimpson,” I said. “There is no stone. You have no idea about any of this. It never happened.”

I took the stone from under the microscope and left. Professor Stimpson was still staring into space as I shut the door to his office. I hoped I hadn’t erased his mind by using the stone that way on him.

Jasmine called from the other side of the square.

“Yoo-hoo, Professor Smithson.”

I waited for her to bounce up to me. Bounce is the right word. Her bosom delightfully jiggled as she jogged over.

“I went to your office looking for you,” she informed me. “I want to join your Philosophy class, may I? Tina said your latest class was the best ever.”

“You want to learn philosophy?” I asked.

Jasmine smiled wickedly, “No. I want to fuck those other five sluts in the class. I’ve already fucked you and Tina!”

I had to laugh.

“Well, there may just be a spot,” I told her. “Do you think you earnt it yesterday?”

“My arse is still sore,” she informed me. “I think you should let me return the favour and fuck you in the ass to make up for it.”

“That might be fun,” I replied, to my surprise. “You’ll have to let me fuck yours again to clinch the deal, though.”

“If it feels as good every time as it did yesterday, you can fuck my ass any time you want, Professor!” Jasmine told me.

“What about right now?” I asked. “We’ll go to my office, fill in the enrolment, and then fuck.”

“Deal,” she said.

As we walked to my office, Jasmine said, “Something about you is different from yesterday. You seem younger and fitter. Like you’ve lost weight overnight.”

Dare I hope?

“Well, they say, ‘You’re only as young as the woman you’re feeling’,” I jokingly said to her. “And you and Tina are both pretty young!”

Rolling her eyes, Jasmine said, “OMFG! That is so trite. I’d expect one of the first-year students to make that joke, not my favourite professor!”

“When did I become your favourite professor?” I asked.

“Just now, when you said I could join your class and fuck the other sluts in it.” Jasmine smiled at me.

“I didn’t say you could fuck anyone, Jasmine,” I pointed out. “I only said you could join my class, and I would fuck you.”

Jasmine stopped, taking a quick look around to ensure no one was looking. Then, she cupped her magnificent breasts and said, “Leave the details to me, Professor. Trust me. They won’t be able to resist.”

My thinking was that she was probably right.

Entering my office, I got the enrolment forms and soon completed them.

“Now for your end of our bargain, Miss Jasmine,” I said.

Jasmine tilted her head forward for a kiss.

“You’re going to love this, Miss Jasmine,” I told her as the stone began to work its magic. “My every touch will send you into raptures. My kisses will harden your cock. As I touch and stroke you, your need to cum will grow and grow until you beg me to fuck you in your divine ass again.”

Jasmine was writhing her upper body and hips sensuously forward and back. She had her hands inside her top and was playing with her nipples.

“Mmm, mmm, mmm, Professor Smithson, please, I need you inside me. I need your dick in my ass with one hand pulling my hair and the other smacking my ass.” Jasmine moaned.

Pulling the blinds down and locking the door, I turned to Jasmine. I took her pretty head in my hands and kissed her full red lips. Then, stroking her behind her ears, I gently sent my tongue toward her lips. Jasmine moaned, then opened her mouth a little to let my tongue in. Next, I lightly ran my fingers down Jasmine’s neck, across her collarbones and onto her full bosom.

Pulling her clinging top out of her short skirt, I leant back far enough to pull it up over her head and fling it aside. Then, kissing Jasmine again, I reached behind her and undid her bra. My large hands found her tiny nipples.