Good Idea
Prologue
Don’t ask me how it works; I don’t know. Don’t ask me when it started; I couldn’t tell you. All I know is that apparently, I have good ideas. “But everyone has good ideas!” I hear you shouting. No; everyone has some good ideas. But apparently, I only have good ideas.
You’re confused. That’s understandable. While I may not know when this all started, I remember the day I first noticed it very clearly. So I’ll tell you about that, and maybe you’ll understand why always having good ideas is a blessing and a shit-storm.
Chapter 1: Stripper: the Gathering
“Hey, James. Playing black again?” Kelsey smiled at me as she invited me into her home for our usual game of Magic: the Gathering. It’s this really nerdy, but really fun trading card game, where you play as planeswalkers, who are...you’ve stopped reading, haven’t you? Okay, I’ll skip the explanation this time, but seriously, play it. It’s fun.
“Of course,” I replied, holding up my deck as demonstration. “No better way to win a game than necromancy.” She chuckled, and I sat down on the floor in front of her coffee table and set up my deck across from her blue mage deck that always sat there.
“Nothing sexier than dead bodies rising out of the grave to kill me,” she said as she took her seat.
“Doesn’t have to be sexy, just has to win. If you want it to be sexy, we could always play Strip Magic,” I laughed.
“Good idea,” she said. “How would that work?”
“I dunno. Every time you take damage, you lose an article of clothing?” I decided to keep the joke going.
Kelsey and I have been friends for almost a decade, since high school. We’re those friends who know everything about each other—and I mean everything. We’ve been there for each other during celebrations and mourning alike, through fear and joy, hellfire and holy light. We once tried out the whole “friends with benefits” thing, which crashed and burned, leading to us not speaking for almost a year. It sucked completely, but luckily we patched things up and are closer than ever now. We both agreed never to try the benefits idea again, for the sake of our friendship, but I was glad we could still laugh and joke about it.
“Good idea,” she said again. Perhaps, in the back of my mind somewhere, I’d been unsettled by her repetition, but if I was, I ignored it. People repeat themselves sometimes, right? No big deal.
The game began, and I almost forgot about our joke. I had zombies out the wazoo, while she was taking her time with a more instant spell-based approach. After a few turns, I dealt the first blood, taking 2 life from her with a zombie attack.
“Damn,” she said, “Not a good start.” She pulled off one sock and dropped it on the floor next to her. I didn’t notice.
My zombies and horror creatures were quickly pushing me past a “good game” and into an “are you even trying?” territory. I dealt another blow, Kelsey removed a second sock. I still didn’t notice.
Third blow, and suddenly Kelsey pulled her baby blue tank top up over her head, with no ceremony or hesitation, and dropped it in the pile with her socks.
“Woah!” I said. Not that I hadn’t seen more of her than this before, but I was caught off guard. “What are you doing?”
“Um...Strip Magic, remember?”
“Wha—I was joking about that, Kels.”
“Oh,” she said simply. “But it was a good idea.” She shrugged.
“No, it wasn’t! Don’t you remember the reason we don’t do benefits?” I was shocked at her casual consideration of this.
“Sure. But it was still a good idea.”
The repetition finally hit my neurons, and gave me a very chilling sense that something wasn’t right. “Why do you keep saying it like that?”
“Like what?”
“’It’s a good idea.’ You keep saying that over and over.”
“Well, it is. It’s a good idea.”
“Oh, come on!” I said. I was convinced she was just trying to mess with me, and it was working. “You mean to tell me you’d actually strip down to nothing if I keep getting damage in? Over a game of Magic?”
“Sure. I don’t know why you’re being so weird about this, James. It’s just a good idea.” There it was again.
“You want a good idea? How about you don’t wait for the game and just get naked now! Is that a good idea, Kels?” I was creeped out, and in disbelief, and my sarcasm was out in full force. I was vaguely concerned that I was overreacting...until she replied.
“That’s a good idea!” She smiled and within seconds, her bra was on the floor. I watched those glorious tits move as she bent down to remove her shorts and panties in one motion. She stood up in front of me, completely naked, as sexy as I remembered but with no indication that she had a problem with any of this. “Don’t know how we’re going to keep up the Strip Magic now, though. What am I supposed to do when you hit me?”
She stood there, looking at me for a solution to what was apparently the biggest issue on her mind right now: a game. Bare-ass naked in front of her best friend, who she swore she would never cross the line with again...and her mind was on the game as if none of it mattered.
“Kels, I...but...last time I saw you naked, we didn’t speak for a year. Are you sure you want to do this?”
She playfully punched my shoulder. “Oh, shut up. Do I want to do something that’s a good idea? Of course I do. It’s a good idea. Like, by definition. So how do we keep playing?”
Now, I’ll admit it, I probably should have told her to get dressed and tried to figure out what was going on. Or maybe told her if she said the words “good idea” again, I’d punch her. Something to stop all this. But the longer my eyes rested on that beautiful body...those luscious tits...that gorgeous shaved pussy I remembered tasting...well, “should” is the jurisdiction of my brain, and my brain wasn’t in control anymore. Something...lower on my anatomy was. I also watch and read enough superhero fiction to recognize a superpower when I see one.
But this wasn’t a comic book, I reasoned. I still had enough mental faculties to know that. So if I was going to think I had superpowers, I had to make damned sure I did first. It needed a test.
“Well...” I started, not sure where I was going with this. “I mean...instead of finishing the game, you could just...give me head.” I said it, and immediately panicked. I was so stupid; of course I didn’t have superpowers. I’m such an idiot; this is real life, not fantasy. Why would I say that? I just ruined our friendship and made everything awkward a second time and I don’t—
“Good idea!” she said happily, dropping to her knees. I wanted to yell, “WHAT?!", but no words came out. Just the silent sound of my jaw dropping, as she unzipped my jeans, unceremoniously pulled my now-hard cock out, and began sucking. She seemed happy about it, but not weird at all. Her behavior was that of someone who had decided to take a spontaneous walk instead of someone who was now giving oral to her best friend with whom she had a torrid history.
It had to be true. I must have superpowers; there’s no way she’d do this unless I somehow magically forced her. But wait—if I forced her, then this was rape. I’m not a rapist! And I’d never do that, especially not to Kelsey! But...was I forcing her? She said it herself: she thought these were good ideas and she wanted to do them. Is it forcing someone if they want to do it?
I almost finished that philosophical argument in my head, but the sensation of her pink lips wetting my cock, and her somewhat cold fingers caressing my balls, was too much. I couldn’t think. All I could do was enjoy it. And as she sucked, she didn’t stop smiling: she was enjoying it, too.
“K—Kelsey,” I managed to stutter. “Can you—can you not say ‘good idea’ anymore, please? It—it’s start—starting to creep me out.”
She pulled off me for a second. “That’s a good—I mean, that’s probably best. How long do you think it’ll take you to get off, by the way?”
No more brain. Without answering, I grabbed the back of her head and pulled her mouth back onto my cock, deep-throating. She gagged for a second, then resumed her task with a smile and slight nod. Apparently, the things I did were all as good ideas as the things I said.
A few minutes later, I came in her mouth. I told her to swallow, which was of course a good idea, so she did. My mental focus came back online, and the things I realized toed the line between terrifying and wonderful. If everything I did was a good idea...then I could do anything.
But was this power just something I had over Kelsey? Was it because we were such good friends? Maybe because of our history? Or maybe something she ate? Or—and this was the ultimate concept in my head—did this work on everyone? Would everyone think whatever I said or did was a good idea? And did everyone always say “good idea” around me from now on? (That would get annoying if so.)
Any scientist knows that a small sample size can’t be trusted. I need to scale up my testing. “Hey, Kels,” I said minutes later, my arm around her as we cuddled on the couch naked. “I think we should take a trip to the mall.”