Chapter 2

Friday went by unbelievably slow for John Baxter as he anxiously awaited his last class. During his earlier classes, he used his newfound, yet unexplainable power to make several girls spread their legs and show him their panties. He saw everything from little girl flowered ones, to plain white cotton, to some very skimpy thongs. But there was one in particular that caught his eye. It seemed to be all white with bright yellow right where the pussy mound was. Too far away to satisfy his curiosity, he sent Jennifer Masters a thought.

Her hand shot up and waved hysterically. John called on her and almost told her she could go to the restroom before she even asked. When she returned, she walked directly to John's desk, her face bright red as she kept glancing at her classmates while she fidgeted with her skirt, tugging at the material. Her other hand was clenched, pressed against the outside of the leg farthest from her classmates. Using her body as a shield, she thrust that fist towards her teacher who covered it with his much larger hand. She loosened her fingers, allowing him to slip her panties from her grasp. Using his desk to shield his activity from the students staring wide-eyed at their teacher and classmate, John spread the white cotton panties out on his lap. He held back his laughter when he saw Tweety Pie on the front. That's what he had seen right over the 14-year-old's pussy. He stuffed the panties back into the little girl's hand which she quickly tucked under her armpit. Spinning around, she stumbled and ran out of the classroom, her free hand pressed to her butt to keep the skirt from flying up. When she returned and took her seat, no one was the wiser, although Jennifer's face was a constant pink.

Looking up his lovely students' skirts had an affect on John. He didn't intend to get turned on, but it happened anyway. During one of his breaks in the teacher's lounge, John was alone with Mrs. Hemster. Although he did not find the middle-aged woman especially desirable, he was so sexually aroused he felt mischievous.

Sitting on the couch across from John, Mrs. Hemster's fingers carefully fed the threaded needle through her needlepoint, looking down her nose as she carefully made each stitch. Her dress, white with large purple orchids, flowed out over her lower body, hanging well over her knees. John kept sending the other teacher messages, such as, Mrs. Hemster, you are sexually aroused. You have to climax or else you will go crazy. Your need is so powerful that you can't even get off the couch, and it doesn't matter that Mr. Baxter is in the same room. You have no choice, you must relieve your desire now.

Mrs. Hemster squirmed on the couch. Her legs pressed together and she rocked back and forth, all the while peering over her reading glasses at her colleague. Pretending to read his magazine, but looking over the top, John saw her drop her needlepoint and press the heel of her hand between her legs. When his head rose, she jerked her hand away. John smiled politely and lowered his head, but not his eyes. Her hand returned to her lap, now vigorously rubbing her pussy through her dress as if she had a severe case of poison ivy. John looked up again, and her hand flew to her side, her fist clenching so tight that her knuckles turned white while she ground her butt on the couch cushion. The front of her dress was no longer smooth but pressed between her legs, defining the shape of her thighs and the vee between them. This time, however, John kept staring.

Mrs. Hemster looked desperate. Her hand moved towards her lap, but stopped on her thigh. Her fingers twitched and then grabbed and released the material of her dress. She looked over her shoulder and then back at John, her eyes pleading, but all he did was smile and stare. Beads of sweat formed on her face as she bit her bottom lip, her hips involuntarily rocking as if she had to pee. Raising her arm, she wiped her face with her shoulder, and then her hand went back to her thigh, her fingernails digging into the soft flesh.

"Are you going to be here much longer?" she asked, her voice desperate.

"I have a free period. Just relaxing and catching up on my reading," John said.

Mrs. Hemster's eyes closed tight and her face grimaced, her legs pressed together and her hand clutched the material of her dress over her thigh. Then her legs parted and her hand went to her lap, cupping her pussy through the loose fitting dress, squeezing it. Her thighs opened and closed around the hand rubbing her pussy for all she was worth. Her moans filled the room and her hips humped -- and then John, with a smirk, sent another message. Mrs. Hemster, rubbing your vagina through your dress is making it worse. It's getting you more aroused, but you will not be able to climax unless you make direct contact with your vagina.

Mrs. Hemster pleadingly looked at her co-worker, but John just stared back, his eyes shifting from her face to her lap and back to her face. After a short time she gave in to her needs, her hand darting under her dress. As she frantically reached for her pussy, her forearm pushed her dress higher, exposing much of her thighs. Eventually, the movement of her hand and her slouching exposed her panty covered crotch completely. Poor Mrs. Hemster had her ass on the edge of the couch, her legs spread as wide as they would go, her dress bunched at her waist, while both hands rubbed her pussy through her plain white cotton panties.

Feeling the frustration, Mrs. Hemster grabbed the panty crotch and ripped it completely apart. With her hairy pussy exposed, she drove two fingers of one hand up her pussy while rubbing her clit with her other hand. John stared between her legs watching her fingers slide in and out. The flap of material that used to be the crotch of her panties sometimes got in the way and was shoved inside her pussy before being drawn out with her fingers. Although she hadn't had an orgasm, she was oozing so much that the piece of cotton material was saturated.

John walked over to the helpless woman and stood between her widespread legs. A look of embarrassment crossed her face, but she could not stop masturbating. When John opened his fly and pulled his erection out, her expression turned to shock. She thought John was going to fuck her. In fact, in her current state, she almost desired it. Instead, John began pumping his shaft. After about a dozen strokes, he put his hand on the back of the couch next to Mrs. Hemster's head as he leaned over the middle-aged teacher. Pumping his cock faster now, he pointed it between her legs and released a stream of sperm. It splattered her pussy and hands. The sperm landing on her thrusting fingers was jammed into her hole. Some of his semen landed on her pubic hair which got rubbed in by her moving hands. Finally, Mrs. Hemster's whole body shook as she rammed three fingers into her pussy, experiencing the most intense orgasm of her life.

John rubbed his still dripping cock on Mrs. Hemster's thigh before tucking it back into his pants. He looked down at her. She was exhausted, sitting with her legs wide apart and her dress at her waist, her head back, her breathing heavy. Her torn panties were still on, but the entire crotch was shredded leaving her pussy totally exposed. John could see globs of his white sperm on her panties, pubic hair, pussy lips, thighs, and hands.

"Oh, Mr. Baxter ... John ... I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me. Please forgive me," she cried. "If my husband found out he'd divorce me ... no, he'd kill me! If Ms. Kraus found out she'd fire me. Please don't tell anyone."

John stared down at the woman, her face red and contorted, her hands clasped at her chest which was rising and falling, her panic-stricken eyes looking at him over her reading glasses which had slid down her nose, precariously resting on the very tip.

"Mrs. Hemster, don't worry. I won't tell anyone. This will be our little secret."

John patted his middle-aged colleague's bare thigh. Looking down, she gasped and snapped her legs together and yanked her dress down. As John was leaving the teacher's lounge he wondered how Mrs. Hemster would handle the rest of the day with her sticky pussy exposed to the cool air through the torn panties. He impishly sent one last message as he left the lounge. Mrs. Hemster, you will not leave work early nor wash your crotch until you get home.

The episode in the teacher's lounge relieved some of the sexual tension John felt and made the rest of the day bearable. His last class was finally about to start and he felt a tingle in his groin.

John sat at his desk observing his students file into the room and take their seats. When Heather came in she stared at him like a lovesick puppy. John noticed Heather's shorts and reprimanded himself for not implanting a message for her to wear a skirt. He continued to glance over the room, stopping at Ivy, the busty 16-year-old who oozed sensuality. She wore a loose fitting halter and very tight shorts. Unlike Heather's budding breasts, Ivy's were well developed.

Rubbing his chin, John thought, Ivy, tear a paper out of your notebook and hand it to Mr. Baxter. Lean over his desk and lean forward so that he can see inside your blouse ... and let him.

Janice Beckingham's mouth opened when Ivy stopped talking to her in the middle of a sentence and flipped her spiral notebook open. The girl leaned over the aisle between their desks to see what her friend was doing, and saw her rip a blank page from the book. She expected Ivy to write her a note, but was surprised when she slid out of her seat and walked to the front of the room.

Ivy looked confused when she got to her teacher's desk and extended her arm. When John took the offered paper, she placed her palms on his desk and leaned forward. He had a clear view of her braless tits. They were magnificent and gave him an idea for later.

A little before the class ended, John sent messages to Heather and Ivy for them to stay in the classroom after everyone left. They were to talk to each other about the movies they recently saw and to tell others they had appointments and would be busy after school.