One

 

Me [Karen], mind reading, Jerry, Hilda

 

Have you ever wanted to know what a guy's thinking when he's looking at your buttocks? Or is it obvious enough anyway? I'm clairvoyant. I'm only about average in looks, but at times I know exactly how a guy wants to see me as well as he does. I'm pretty enough and have a good figure. If I choose to I can make myself look like the fantasy he would like to see me as.

    Does it surprise you that my main use of mind reading is for satisfying my own voyeuristic tendencies? Should I be out interrogating prisoners? Frankly, I'm not interested in conflicts, either between nations or cops and robbers. I don't owe them anything and have no reason to not just enjoy myself. But knowing what people are thinking about you isn't always fun. I usually want to know, especially if a guy is lusting for me. But if he isn't, and should be, then I guess I'd have been happier not knowing. The best thing is that I know the guy I'm flirting with or fucking is thinking nice things about me. It's easy for me to detect a mean streak long before getting involved with a guy.

    What's as much fun as reading people's thoughts about me and no risk to my own ego, is reading a guy's thoughts about another girl. And reading her thoughts as well.

    Hilda, our secretary, has the type of figure I wish I had. I guess I'd like to be taller than her five-two, but otherwise she's nearly perfect. At twenty five, I'm hardly old, but though only six years my junior, she seems like a younger generation. Most of it is probably the difference between a professional woman and a receptionist. There are guys here I'd love to fuck who won't address me by my first name because I have more status than they do. But I don't resent Hilda. Instead I enjoy seeing the thoughts going through the male heads around her. Bees and honey. I probably enjoy peeking around inside her head as much as theirs.

    She's had two affairs here. But if the guys had any inkling how insecure and eager she actually is, every one of them would already be inside her pants. I know she wouldn't say no to any of them if approached nicely. Not even Harold who fears he'd be impotent with her. Hilda's such a darling she feels sorry for him. One time I caught her thinking that he was older than her father and that he probably needed what she could offer more than any of the younger guys. Harold is a nice old man. But I'd make no better a sex partner for him than Hilda would, because he's a tech and I'm sort of his boss. He doesn't see me as too young, just impossibly higher up the status ladder. He doesn't even get an erection when I wiggle my buttocks at him.

    This morning I watched an erotic encounter Hilda had with Jerry, my boss. Jerry's married but plays around. I've thought of seducing him, but it's less complicated doing it with someone you don't report to. Hilda doesn't work for Jerry, but as a member of management he could easily be accused of harassment if he gave into his fantasies. I know Hilda would never complain, even if he raped her. At least she doesn't think she would. It's one of her favorite fantasies. Not just a generic rape, though she also has that desire. She specifically imagines Jerry cornering her in a closet, pinning her against the wall, and suddenly filling her vagina with his manhood. In her dream, she only mildly resists, and afterwards blackmails him. The payment she demands is that he do it again on a regular basis! Even in her fantasy it's not really rape. In practice, if they ever do get together, he'll ask and she'll willingly comply. Or maybe someday she'll get the courage to ask him.

    Hilda wears clothes that are a bit risqué. But no one seems to mind. Even the older women just smile and think of her as a child playing around. I know if I tried showing off a fancy bra under a translucent blouse, or the shape of my nipples, indicating no bra, under a tight stretchy knit, I'd get frowns from the same women. As a professional, I'm senior to most of these women, so I'm fair game for their back biting. Even the tight clothing and short skirts I often wear give them fuel for gossip. But at twenty five and with a good figure, I'm not about to start wearing loose tailored suits. In fact, I could care less about dressing appropriate to my position. I like making money and having a private office. But each promotion only seems to put me farther apart from the younger crowd that I'd like to stay a part of. I don't ever want to become a manager. I have to admit, however, that with her looks, age, and personality, the teenage teaser clothes look better on Hilda then on me when I wear stuff like that outside of work.

    When Jerry walked up to her desk she stood up as she always does. This still means she has to look up at everybody, even me. Most people think she does it because she doesn't have to look up as much. It took me a while to decide that she's trying to show off her legs. Not just trying, either. Hilda wants everyone to like her, even me. Maybe not everyone. She could care less about the same older women who are so tolerant of her. She looks down on any woman who doesn't try to look sexually attractive. If such a female has potential she's a prude. If she's just old or ugly than Hilda thinks she's pathetic. Hilda apparently places me higher in her ratings of females than most of my male coworkers. She's always seen me as an equal competitor, possibly a friend, and could care less where I fit in the professional pecking order.

    I knew Hilda wanted to be my friend. I just didn't know if I'd enjoy mentally snooping on her nearly as much. Usually, it makes me feel a little guilty. So I was friendly with her, and she liked me. But she didn't quite feel she could be intimate with me. Yet someday there'd be some crisis, and being the closest thing here she has to a female friend she'd come crying on my shoulder, and I'd be stuck. This mind reading thing makes it hard to keep friends. And it hurts when I lose one.