Chapter 3

Monday, May 24, 2010

Oh, God, those nipples! Jake thought.

And he was not the only one thinking it. Every boy in eighth-grade social studies thought the same thing except for little Hal. Hal was a late bloomer and indifferent to the sight of Mrs. Harrison’s breasts in her tight sweater. Well, there was Owen. Owen’s drives were just as strong as the other boys, but it was not girls he was interested in.

Mrs. Harrison moved from the left side of the blackboard to the right as she continued to list the chronology of events during the Revolutionary War. Her breasts jiggled as she walked in her high heels. Jake closed his eyes, desire surging within him.

It was not just his lust that he felt. It was the lust of every other heterosexual, post-pubescent boy in the class. Especially Adam Howell’s. Adam, who sat next to Jake, apparently had not been nursed long enough judging by his fierce and unwavering attention to Mrs. Harrison’s breasts.

Mrs. Harrison turned back to the chalkboard, her close-fitting skirt taut across her ass. Now Jake felt a surge of desire from the sizable contingent of boys who were particularly drawn to a woman’s backside. He also felt desire from several of the girls. That had a curiously different feel than the boys.

His focus — which was never very good in this class anyway — was shattered, and he missed the next several minutes of the lecture. He struggled to not moan out loud.

Finally, mercifully, Mrs. Harrison sat down at her desk, partially hiding her body from sight. Jake strained to compel her to slide her briefcase in front of her chest. From where he sat in the back of the class, she was located at the edge of his effective range. Fortunately, he was not trying to get her to do anything difficult. Mrs. Harrison gave in to the sudden urge and her breasts were concealed behind the briefcase. The sexual tension around him began to ebb.

The unfairness of it chafed him. Just controlling his own urges was hard enough. None of the other students had to endure the collective lust of his classmates. Something had to give.

Gradually Jake’s equanimity returned. His stomach muscles were knotted up and his erection was painful. Today was the worst it had ever been. He was surprised that he had not ejaculated into his pants.

The sexual longings had begun eight months before, maybe earlier. He could not say when exactly. They had started so gradually that it had taken some time before he recognized it for what it was. They had been getting stronger ever since.

Jake did not know how much longer he could take it. What would happen if his restraint broke? What might he force his classmates to do? The last time that he had succumbed to a strong impulse was Gil at the electronics shop. He could not allow himself to give in like that again. He needed sex before he snapped.

Jake was sure that he could make any girl have sex with him. He knew of four girls that would probably be willing even without him using his talents. It was too bad he did not know what to do once he was with a girl.

He knew a lot about sex second hand. People thought about it all the time. He had read amazing things in the minds of some men.

He had also discovered a cornucopia of information about sex on the Internet, not that he trusted it very much. There were just too many things he read online that conflicted with the memories of sexually-experienced people.

He could forget about talking to his mom about sex. She knew even less than he did. That particular fact had been a big surprise to him when he began to pay attention to such things. Despite having given him birth, she knew almost nothing beyond the basic mechanics of intercourse, and that only in a hazy, indefinite sort of way. She was painfully shy around men. Strangely, her sexual desire was stronger than any other woman he had read, but when she thought about sex, her thoughts were vague and confused.

Thinking about his mother and sex brought a question to mind that he had never considered before—his father. It was a topic that had never been raised at home. He had not even thought to ask about it. He wondered what his mother would say if he asked her about him. Would it upset her? He did not want to do that, but now that he had given voice to the thought, his curiosity was provoked. Why had he never talked to his mother about it before?

Mrs. Harrison stood to write the homework assignment on the board. Her calf-length skirt swayed back and forth, and several body parts quivered as she wrote. As Jake felt the ambient lust level rise once again, he realized that a reliable source of knowledge about sex might be jiggling delightfully right in front of his eyes.

Mrs. Harrison was the best-looking teacher in the school. She looked to be maybe thirty years old. She dressed elegantly, as befitted the wife of one of the city’s leading lights. Her husband was in construction or something like that. Jake had seen pictures of them in the newspaper. He was older and gray-haired but handsome.

Mrs. Harrison might be just what Jake needed, an experienced, older woman who could teach him. He would have to investigate.

Normally he would listen in on her thoughts, but he did not bother to even try from where he was sitting near the back of the classroom. This far away, they were just a muted buzzing, mostly drowned out by the mind noises of the students who sat between him and her. No, he would have to get nearer to her first. Then he would be able to study her mind. If he got to know her better, he could put together a plan.

Once Jake was familiar with a person’s thoughts, it was often possible to make him or her do what he wanted, even without pushing. Ever since Gil, he had not liked using his skills to impose his will. He saved compulsion for those times when less intrusive measures did not work, and then only when he thought the matter was important.

The bell rang the end of class. Jake adjusted his erection to make it less conspicuous and approached the desk, putting her briefcase between her and it.

“Mrs. Harrison?”

“Yes, Mr. Fielding?”

She looked up at him with blue eyes that momentarily distracted him.

“Is there something you want?” she asked.

He pulled his attention back to his plan.

“I’m having trouble seeing the board from the back of the room. It’s all blurry. Do you think I could move up to the front?”

“I don’t see why not. In fact, maybe that would be for the best. Your mind is not on the lectures most of the time.”

Jake had not realized that it was that obvious.

“Sorry, Mrs. Harrison. I’ll try harder.”

“I’ll switch you with Julian Nichols. That will put you in the front row. Talk to your parents about getting glasses.”

Jake thanked her and turned to leave.

He is just going to stare at me that much harder when he moves up front.

Jake almost stumbled as he walked to the door and not just because of the contents of that thought. After eight years of overhearing the things people thought in the supposed privacy of their own minds, it was almost impossible to surprise him anymore. But this was something he had never seen before—Mrs. Harrison had been aroused by the thought of him lusting after her.

“Have a snack, Jake.”

“Thanks, Gramma,” he said and unpeeled the banana. “I was sitting in class today, and something occurred to me.”

Jake was sitting at his grandparent’s kitchen table. Even though he and his mother had their own apartment, Jake went to his grandparent’s house after school. His mother would meet him there when she got off work. Until then he would work on his homework, visit with his grandparents, or sometimes, go over to Jason’s house.