The Invisible (Young) Man

He made it back to the lab safely, most of the time by simply running. He considered moving more stealthfully, but time was not on his side. No, time was terribly much against him. He figured as long as he moved fast, nobody would get a clear picture of the unclear distortion that was him.

When he got back to the lab he briefly considered relieving the strain in his balls. But, he was also feeling too nervous, too upset. And, well, besides, the lab was not a particularly erotic environment. Jerking off in a girl's bedroom while she is masturbating is perfectly natural, but jerking off in a laboratory filled with chemicals, test tubes, bunsen burners, spectrophotometers, tongs, pipet bulbs, and calorimeters, seemed a bit perverted. And, imagine getting caught jerking off in Dr. Kemp's lab? He probably wouldn't like that. Perhaps most importantly, he had a plan for the next day, and he need the motivation, the incentive, the will power, to see it through.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next day he yearned for relief, and he knew from whom he wanted to receive it. His nighttime dreams had been filled with her, and he twice woke up from a fantasy dream involving Janice. He had considered jerking off beneath the covers, but he sorely doubted that his roommate would appreciate that.

He waited patiently in the quad for Janice's eventual arrival. This was in fact precisely where he had asked her out once before, as she always cut across the quad this time of the day, heading to her biology class.

He was much more confident this time, or at least hopeful. This time he knew her secret. He knew she was yearning for him, pleading for him to fuck her like a bitch in heat. She wanted him, and she wanted him bad. That was so cool. He smiled in expectant, gleeful anticipation.

And then there she was, striding across the commons, textbooks held against her breasts, all confident, sexy, and alluring. She was wearing a particularly short skirt today. It was a very nicely sunny spring day. She probably enjoyed the feel of the spring air caressing her thighs as her skirt flipped and waved.

"Janice! Janice!" Griffin exclaimed when she reached him. "You got a second?"

She stopped and scowled. "What for? Hurry up, I'm late for biology."

He was a bit taken aback by that. He knew that she wasn't late at all. But, he was not to be deterred. Being the only person in the world capable of becoming invisible does provide you with a higher sense of power and self-confidence, plus his balls ached for satisfaction, for relief. "Hey, well, like," although once he started talking, the words didn't just flow. "Um, like, I was wondering if you would like to go to a movie, or something." She didn't answer right away. He added, "sometime."

She smiled and shook her head in disbelief. "Oh my gosh," she replied, "the little toad is back."

He could feel the blood rushing into his face.

She added disdainfully, "Wasn't I sufficiently clear the first time? Or, perhaps, you even got rejected by the wrestlers?" She chuckled and walked off, not even letting him have the opportunity to reply.

Griffin was at first stunned, as well as dismayed. But, it didn't take him long to figure it out, or at least speculate, that the fact she masturbated to fantasies about him didn't necessarily suggest she actually wanted to in fact have sex with him. The whole point of the fantasy was to pretend to be demeaned by having sex with him. That didn't necessarily mean she actually wanted his company on a date. She might privately pretend to have sex with toads, to fulfill a perverse private pleasure, but she wasn't about to publicly date one in real life. She obviously did not find him attractive. On the contrary, she found him disgusting, which was precisely why he was good for her fantasy, but not for her reality. Griffin was crestfallen, and embarrassed at his stupidity. He was, once again, publicly humiliated.

But his embarrassment quickly turned to annoyance, and then the desire for revenge. He immediately left for the lab. Dr. Kemp had not yet conducted sufficient research to understand the long-term consequences of the cloaking lotion. One might expect there to be some sort of side effects of such a potent lotion if it was applied too frequently. But, Griffin was now on a mission. He again bathed himself in the thick liquid, double and triple checking that every inch, every centimeter, was covered, and then headed back onto campus, going directly to Janice's biology class, his balls turning blue with passion, with desire.

He waited outside, behind the sculpture of the human cell. It was a pretty safe place to avoid contact with anyone, as nobody ever stopped to look at it.

When he saw her leave, he carefully followed her. It was at first difficult, particularly inside the building where there were a number of students. He realized that he should have been waiting for her outside the building. He had to walk up real close to the person in front of him, as the person behind him kept entering his physical space. As a result, he occasionally bumped the person in front, but fortunately the person never turned around to say anything.

Once he was outside of the building the people dispersed and he was able to get directly behind Janice.

He didn't know where she was going or what he would do when she got there, but he was certainly going to follow her. This time he would even follow her into a lavatory.

He flipped up the back of her skirt, revealing her soft round bottom tightly encased in her aquamarine cotton panties.

Janice quickly reached behind her with her left hand to push the skirt back down, glancing back to see if anyone had seen her skirt flip up. It was indeed a bit breezy, but she didn't think it was that bad. It was frankly a bit embarrassing, as it felt like it had really flipped up quite high. And, it did appear that a group of boys behind her had seen it happen, as they had pretty big grins on their faces. She gave them a brief scowl and continued on her way, periodically reaching back to check that her skirt was still down.

But, Griffin wouldn't leave it in peace. As soon as he felt he had another good opportunity, he flipped her skirt up again, smiling with mischievous pleasure at his boyish prank, as well as the sight of her pretty panty bottom.

"Hey!" Janice exclaimed, turning suddenly and swinging her left hand. That didn't feel like a breeze, and she quickly looked around in all directions for the culprit, but she didn't see anyone. There wasn't anyone anywhere near close enough to be the culprit, but she couldn't help but feel that it had in fact been someone.

The boys behind her laughed openly, both at the reprise of the panty show and her obvious discomfort and confusion.

She waited for them and glared as they approached. Perhaps one of them did it? But, they had been so far behind her. There was no way that one of them could have done it and run back to the pack that quickly. She looked to see if they had some sort of air gun, or something.

"It's a little breezy today," one of them said, as they passed her on the walkway.

"Yea, right," she responded sarcastically, shifting her books to her left hand, using her right hand to hold down her skirt.

Griffin was standing a few feet away, on the grass. He had almost got hit when Janice suddenly swung around. He was, for the moment, keeping his distance.

Janice resumed her walk after the boys passed. They might not have had anything to do with it, but she was still suspicious and, besides, she didn't really want to feel their eyes on her bottom. This time she kept her skirt pulled down with her right hand.

Griffin was disappointed. He was apparently done with flipping up her skirt. However, he knew he wasn't done with her. He followed safely behind her.

It was such a nice day that Janice decided to spend at least some time in the park by the humanities building. Frankly, after the rather flustering embarrassment with her skirt, it would be nice to just relax a bit in the spring air. She found a nice spot on the side of a hill where she could comfortably catch some of the afternoon rays. She was also sufficiently distant from the sidewalk that there was little noise to distract her. All she could hear was the sound of birds chirping, the leaves rustling. The sun felt so good on her skin, so warm, so toasty, that she soon felt calm, comfortable, and even sleepy. She let her mind drift off as she luxuriated in the warm, spring, soothing afternoon. She felt so much better.

She smiled as she thought about Griffin asking her out. He was such a doofus. Imagine if he knew about her secret sex fantasies. He would be so shocked, and excited. She briefly imagined someday actually doing him, but then quickly shuddered away that thought. It was one thing to have a fantasy; it was another thing to actually do it. A fantasy is a place to think about doing things that in reality would really be quite wrong, perhaps even distasteful or abhorrent. Having sex with Griffin was one of them.

As she drifted away into sleep, Griffin watched and waited, waiting for his opportunity. She looked really quite sexy, lying on her back, her head cradled in her hands, her breasts rising up so nicely with her upraised arms, and her very pretty, alluring thighs peeking out from beneath her skirt.

Janice imagined other boys doing dirty, naughty things to her, as she lay on the hill, her breasts rising and falling with her increasing arousal, her pussy growing as warm as the sun felt on her cheeks.

She imagined the boy telling her to lift her skirt up in the commons and to walk across the campus for everyone to see. It was a very naughty fantasy, a very naughty dream. At the moment, it wasn't really clear if she was dreaming, or fantasizing, as she could feel her consciousness, her self-awareness, drift in and out, as she became lost in her daydream, in her reverie, her other world.

Griffin knelt beside her, feeling his cock rising before him, as he slowly lifted up the front of Janice's skirt, letting her soft, aquamarine panties be bathed by the sun, as well as by his eyes. He carefully laid the top of her skirt against her abdomen, so softly that she would hopefully not notice. His dick rose back up to full strength, a rather odd feeling to feel it growing but not actually being able to see it.

Once having successfully laid the skirt back over her abdomen, he sat back down on his heels and admired his work. Her panties were so terribly cute and evocative, as they stretched quite tightly over her mound. One could even see the outline of her slit along the soft, fleshy rise of her cunnie pot.

If anyone did happen to notice her, they would think that a sudden breeze had flipped up her skirt, and that the poor girl, who apparently had fallen asleep, was simply unaware of the accident. And, a few students did indeed notice, pointing, giggling, whispering, as they walked by. Some boys even stopped to admire the sight of the girl's green panties glowing in the sun light (to them, they just looked green). Those boys accompanied by girls were pulled away, and even boys who were by themselves walked on. It did seem a bit inconsiderate to take advantage of her that way.

Janice felt the increased heat as the sun baked her cunnie. She sighed with pleasure, attributing the warmth to the heat generated by the pleasure of her fantasies. She imagined that a boy was in fact playing with her pussy, through her panties, right there on the hill, in front of everyone, making her sigh, moan, and squirm with pleasure right before their eyes.

Griffin leaned back over again and cautiously reached out, gently, lightly, placing his finger tips on the lips, on the slit, that was outlined by the soft cotton of Janice's panties.

She did not flinch. She didn't even open her eyes. She just sighed with obvious pleasure, and even parted her thighs, just a bit, or at least Griffin thought that perhaps she did.

Janice so much enjoyed that state of mind when you were still half-dreaming, half-awake. You weren't really entirely sure. Sometimes the dream would really be a nightmare, and she would be so happy to emerge, to realize that it was only a dream, but it might take a few seconds to tell the difference.

But, many more times it was a wonderful dream, a dream that promised so much, if only it would last to its fruition, and she never did want it to end until it did. Sometimes it was a very sexual dream. Some of the most silly ones were dreams in which she had to be a naked model in front of a class, displaying for the boys the human female sexual anatomy, and then even the female orgasm, if the dream was allowed to go that far. That was really quite absurd, of course. How could that ever really happen? Or, it might be a dream in which the school photographer was taking advantage of her, making her take off all her clothes and do dirty things. When she awoke from that dream she felt quite silly. She even once dreamed that a professor spanked her for using her cell phone, and even eventually took her from behind. Or, it just might be a dream in which was she being forcibly taken, perhaps by many boys. In real life this would of course be very scary, and traumatic, but in her fantasy world, in her dream states, it was just frighteningly, scintillatingly, lustfully, lovingly wonderful and, as she drifted back into consciousness, she would try so hard to hold onto those dreams, to let them bring her to her natural climax. Masturbating to a fantasy was one thing, but dreaming it was so, so much more real.

For some reason, though, she would invariably wake up before her orgasm. Perhaps the increasing level of excitement was just too much to sustain a sleep state. She didn't know, but she sure didn't like it. She was literally being snatched away during one of the most wonderful moments of life, just before the climactic peak was reached.

As she felt herself slowly emerging into consciousness, becoming conscious that she was dreaming and perhaps beginning to awake, she would attempt to maintain herself in the dream state, trying to continue the dream. To do so, she would lay completely still. Any movement would compel a full awakening. This was itself quite frustrating, as she would naturally want to touch herself, to play with herself, as she went deeper into the dream. But, to do what would perhaps help most to bring her to orgasm would also destroy the very dream that had brought her to that point, the dream she so much wanted to take to fruition, to discover what wonderful delights were at the end of this dream. So, she lay still and did her best to maintain the dissociative, hypnagogic state.

And, now, she did indeed feel herself once again within such a moment: a most wonderfully real feeling moment, lost in her dream yet seeming to actually feel the touch of the boy on her panties, on her pussy, right there on the hill. But, of course, it could not in fact be a real boy, as she was alone, entirely alone. She felt an impulse to open her eyes, to check, just to be sure, but she knew there would be nobody there, and doing so would only ruin this wondrously dreamy moment. She gave herself over to her dream, and to the boy's finger, feeling him softly caress her cunnie through her panties as she lay on the hill, exposing herself, her panties, to all the boys who began to gather below to watch.

Griffin softly slid his finger up and down Janice's slit. She might not let him do this in real life, but she would do so in invisible life, and it was definitely just as fun, perhaps even more so, as he sorely doubted that she, or any girl, would let him play with her pussy through her panties right out in the open air.

Janice softly moaned, her breathing becoming more rapid, her breasts rising and falling, her hands clenched, and her bottom squirming in the grass. The boys at the bottom of the hill were speechless; the girls were shocked.

Janice was oblivious to the fact that she was putting on a rather lascivious show, at least oblivious to the reality of the show. In her fantasy she was indeed putting on a very lewd, prurient exhibition, with the help of a boy's finger, but in her mind it was a dream, where such fantasies could be realized without any real cost, and yet with a very realistic experience. If only one could live in one's dreams, life would be so much sweeter. Janice could feel the blood coursing through her loins as she approached her climax, a most embarrassing and humiliating climax it would be, of course, in front of a bunch of boys gawking up at her squirming body. She so hoped that she would not wake up. 'Please,' she thought, 'not this time, let me cum to fruition at least once.'

Griffin could feel her moisture seeping through her panties and he smiled, being sure to keep his lips sealed as he slid his finger up her seeping lips to her button, and softly pressed against it, working his finger around and around against her clit.

Janice lifted her pelvis up against the imaginary finger. It was a dangerous move, as it might cause her to awaken, but it was an instinctive move, the move that occurred within her dream. Perhaps, though, in fact, in reality, she was not actually lifting her pelvis up. She was only doing so in her dream, and in this dream, this boy suddenly pulled her panties down, exposing her personal private place to any and everyone boy who happened to be passing by. She smiled to herself, realizing that it was indeed a dream, as no boy would, or was, actually doing that.

Griffin had indeed suddenly grasped hold of the waistband of Janice's panties, pulling them down off her pretty shaved slit, past her thighs, to her knees, and then hurriedly backing away from her along the grass, expecting her to suddenly lash out, as she had done before.

She did not lash out, but she did suddenly open her eyes when she heard a boy yelling, and others laughing. She gasped as she saw her panties down at her knees. She sat straight up to verify that it had indeed been a dream. There was no boy there, but it had felt so real, and to her surprise, shock, and embarrassment, her skirt was bunched up at her waist and worse, her panties were indeed at her knees. It was not a dream? Which was it? Her bare, naked, wet, glistening shaved cunnie was fully exposed to the boys walking by, who now applauded with comparable surprise but also delight.

The boys did not know how she had managed to have her panties fall down like that. They saw them go down as if someone was actually pulling them down. It was probably the best magic trick they had ever seen (Dr. Kemp could perhaps include that in his magic show) and they were most appreciative of the girl's skill and dexterity. This was one talented girl.

And a very embarrassed, confused one. It was a dream. There was no guy within twenty feet of her, yet her panties were in reality down at her knees. She quickly tossed her skirt back down, bent forward, and pulled up her panties, her face red and warm, but no longer from the sun. She grabbed her books, and dashed off.

She was in any case somewhat late for her appointment with Ms. Thompson, a humanities professor. As she hurried along, the sound of the applause burning in her reddened ears gradually diminishing behind her, she tried to make sense of what just happened. She wondered if, in her dream-like state, she had pulled her panties down herself. There was such a thing as sleep-walking. It would hardly be a stretch of the imagination for there to be as well sleep-stripping. Perhaps in her lustful reverie she had pulled them down, dreaming that it was the boy, but the movement woke her up, just as her panties reached her thighs.

Well, thank goodness she did wake up. Imagine the embarrassment if the dream had continued. But, still, as a dream, it had been so wonderful, so real, so exciting, so arousing. Her steps quickened to Ms. Thompson's office, whom she very much now wanted to visit.