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Category: Erotica/Paranormal Erotica/Science Fiction
Description: Eleven erotic short stories on the theme of telepaths and psychic communication. So much of what is erotic is unspoken, expressed without words. In MIND & BODY, 11 writers take that into the realm of fantastic fiction. 11 little paranormal romances, as a lonely shopkeeper checks the "psychic personals," mysterious dreams lead a woman to her soul mate, and lust goes beyond skin deep.
eBook Publisher: Circlet Press, 2002 2002
eBookwise Release Date: November 2008

Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [238 KB]
Words: 49810
Reading time: 142-199 min.

"[At Circlet Press] they deserve to be applauded for letting their authors push the limits of the erotic imagination."--Forum U.K.

They say the largest sexual organ in the body is the brain. If you had told me that a few years ago I would have laughed in your face. Now I'd just nod my head knowingly.

You see, I work in the accounting department in the head office of a fairly large manufacturing company. We're known for our wheels and ball-bearings. Maybe you've heard of us.

Dimont Wheel and Motion, "We keep America running smoothly."

I guess I'm what you'd call a small cog in the big corporate wheel. I'm not saying my job isn't important, because it is. I've authorized checks for millions of dollars without batting an eye. But while it might be important, what my job isn't, is very hard. When I was working in accounts payable I could do a day's work in about four hours and that always left me with plenty of time on my hands.

Plenty of time for daydreaming.

And daydreaming in an office full of attractive young women in short skirts, high heels and tight blouses usually meant fantasizing. I know it sounds crude and sexist, but for a guy like me who is--how can I put it--past his prime with more weight and less hair to worry about with each passing year, you take life's little pleasures wherever you find them.

There were all kinds of things that would set me off. You know, one button too many undone or a hemline riding up on a pair of crossed legs. No matter how brief a glimpse I got, it was usually enough to fill my head with pleasant thoughts for the rest of the day. And then, every once in a while, I'd get lucky and spot an exposed nipple or the dark band of a stocking top against the pale flesh of a thigh, and I'd be hard the rest of the day and virtually exhausted by quitting time.

But that was months ago.

Things are different now.

Much different, and much, much better.

It all started one day in July when I was still working in accounts payable. I had paid out on a rather large invoice that had reached its due date and was sitting back in my chair staring at the ceiling fan as it slowly turned above my desk.

My thoughts were on one of the secretaries, a real looker named Bridget. She was a young French Canadian girl with long black hair, a tight athletic body and a figure so well-formed that it was admired by men and women alike. That morning she'd worn a tight silk blouse and the air conditioning had been turned down just a little too low. As a result, her nipples were poking out against the silk of her blouse as if she were trying to hide a pair of gumdrops inside her bra. My mind became stuck on that image and I kept fantasizing about her and I on a couch somewhere, her blouse loose and undone, her fingers sliding over the top of her bra cups to expose the large, thick nipples that had been teasing me all morning. As I imagined, they were long and thick and as brown as milk chocolate.

I was just about to take one into my mouth when it happened...

My thoughts, came up against those of another.

It's a hard concept to explain in words and I gave up trying to after the first half-dozen people laughed and dismissed me as oversexed.

Basically, it was as if our daydreams had come together in the space above us, each one overlapping the other and allowing our thoughts to interact.

It was an odd sensation to say the least.

Here I was sitting in my chair at my desk and I was feeling my lips being kissed, my thigh being stroked, and an honest-to-goodness hardened nipple rubbing against the tips of my fingers.

I've tried to explain this feeling to people as well, but again without much luck. But what the heck, might as well give it one more try.

Imagine two people in a dark room, wandering blindly about with their arms in front of them. At one point they brush against each other, find each other, and then begin to touch, feel, probe...

That's what happened to me.

To us.

It was if I was having sex with this other person, only it was all occurring in my mind. It was as real as any of the physical sex I've ever had, but it was all happening while I was sitting there at my desk.

I hadn't moved a muscle. And yet, my lips found her breasts, my tongue flicked against her nipple, my hand slipped under her skirt, found a surprisingly moist pussy there and fingered her clit to orgasm. She reciprocated by undoing my pants and stroking my cock harder and harder until I came.

As I sat there, my breath somewhat labored, she kissed me once more on the lips, her tongue darting teasingly into my mouth one last time.

And then she was gone...

The connection was broken.

I immediately looked around the room to see if anyone had noticed any odd behavior on my part, but they were all as uninterested in me as usual. Next I checked my crotch to see if I had messed my pants. Thankfully, I hadn't, even though I could have sworn I had. Apparently, like the rest of it, my orgasm had taken place solely within my mind--which, all things considered, was probably a good thing.

After taking a few deep breaths, I got up and took a walk around the office. As I moved between the desks I tried to discern from the faces of the women I passed which one it had been, which one had been the one I'd just had sex with.