Waiting to Be Impressed
Okay, so I was bored.
Right, I know what you’re thinking. How could anyone with powers like mine get bored? I know, because I’ve read all about what you would do if you could bend people to your will, whether it’s through telepathic commands, mysterious programs on your PC, nanotechnology, bimbo-izing perfumes, or plain old hypnosis.
Let’s see, how does it go? Yeah, I’m a loser, but I figure out how to get to turn the cheerleader across the street into my sex-slave; then I move on to seduce every woman in sight, and we all live happily ever after at my giant commune—because a person who can’t run his own life well enough to get laid is going to do a great job running the lives of twenty-five hot coeds suffering from breast enlargement and vocabulary reduction.
Yeah, right.
No, that’s not how it goes. I’m supposed to find the most uptight, frigid woman—preferably an incredibly hot, ultra-feminist lawyer who dresses like a nun and despises men—and transform her into a mindless bimbo. After all, stupid chicks are so sexy.
Yeah, right.
Here’s the deal. I don’t have to control women’s minds to make them dress hot; heck, the mass-media did that for me. Talk about mind control. And I don’t have to do anything to make anyone stupid—just thank public education for that gift—but it would take some serious brainwashing for me to find stupid women attractive.
But I digress.
I was bored with my routine. Like most Friday nights, I was standing in the lobby of the movie theater, trying to consider which of these young women I wanted to enjoy this weekend. That’s the great thing about theaters, clubs, and places like that. Women subconsciously put themselves on display when they go out. Combine that with the influence pop stars have had on fashion, and I’m not about to waste my time at the women’s studies department of the local state U.
Only, this week, nothing struck my fancy. Sure, there were college girls on first dates—you can spot them by their clothes without even having to scan their minds—young marrieds just on the edge of marital boredom, teeny-boppers who hadn’t given it up yet. But nothing was catching my attention.
So I wandered out of the lobby and looked for a seat. I mean, what the heck? Maybe a movie would distract me.
Maybe a good one would have. This one starred that old guy who used to play a spy; it was called something like The League of Amazing Fellows. Let’s just say I’m still waiting to be impressed.
Despite how bad the movie was, the theater was packed, and I ended up with people sitting on either side of me. To my left was middle-aged mom, nothing to write home about. To my right, though, was a high-school girl on a date with her boyfriend.
Was she cute? Well, yeah. In the half-light I could see that she was pretty and petite, with big eyes and shoulder-length brown hair. Her miniskirt had ridden about halfway up her thigh, and her leg was bare.
I probably would have just moved on. I could tell from a quick scan that she didn’t really have any experience with men. Yeah, I know there are remedies for that, but I didn’t feel like investing a lot of time to train her to please me. Plus there was the issue of her boyfriend. Okay, it’s not like I couldn’t tell him to get lost. I used to do that a lot when I first found out I could, but now I only do it when the guy strikes me as a real jerk. And this guy didn’t strike me that way. Heck, I picked up from her thoughts that he’d been dating her a while even though she’d never let him get past kissing.
It’s not that he didn’t try. In fact, it was his trying that fascinated me. Every few minutes, he would put his hand on her bare knee. She would shudder and push it away. Still, he’d try again, maybe even getting in a few gentle squeezes before she insisted on propriety.
Here’s the thing. She was good at hiding it from him, but I could sense the effect his hand was having. It sent sparks through her, and she knew that if she let his hand get any higher she’d lose control. It scared her.
Okay, I thought, time to be a good Samaritan.
First, I sent out my basic you-don’t-notice-this field to the audience. It wasn’t too hard, because most of them were caught up in the movie, dumb as it was. I swear, people are sheep. Second, I reached into her mind, like a thief slipping in the backdoor. I turned her fear down and nudged her pleasure principle up by just a hair. Then I sat back to watch.
It was only a moment before her Romeo’s fingers slid back to her knee. I didn’t need any special senses to see that things were different. She gasped slightly at his touch, arching her back. Most importantly though, she didn’t push his hand away. I could tell a little part of her wanted to, but it felt a bit too good for her to muster the willpower.
Romeo didn’t need any encouragement from me. He kneaded her thigh, hardly believing his luck. His hand slid around between her thighs, seeking higher ground. She squirmed. His wrist touched the hem of her skirt. The garment was made of a light, soft fabric that could be easily pushed up—only she didn’t let him. Even though she could barely catch her breath, she grabbed his hand and firmly removed it from her leg.
I’m not sure whether the frustration I felt then was mine, his, or hers. I just knew that I wasn’t beaten yet.
I took a moment to scan the girl. Her pulse was pounding, her lips were flushed, and her nipples were hard. She couldn’t believe she’d let him touch the inside of her thigh, and she especially couldn’t believe how good it had felt. More than anything, she couldn’t believe she’d had the strength to stop him.
Now, I could have just nullified her willpower. I can reach into a woman’s mind and turn her into a complete robot. I just don’t enjoy it. For one thing, some women drool when you do that. It’s not pretty.
I considered sapping her willpower just a little bit. She just felt so determined to be a good girl. My other option seemed more appealing, though. I increased her pleasure principle even more than I had before—and again I sat back to watch what would happen.
To my chagrin, nothing happened. Her last rejection had Romeo stewing in defeat. I could tell he wanted her more than ever, but that he figured he’d blown his chances.
I was starting to think I’d have to give him a bit more courage, when she did it for me. See, while I was busy checking out why he hadn’t made another move, her desire had been building. If I’d been focused on her, I would have felt her heart speed up. Instead, I didn’t have a clue until she reached over and brushed his hand with hers, nudging it ever so slightly back towards her leg.
Our boy Romeo didn’t need more than that. The girl’s head rolled back as his fingertips caressed the flesh just above her mid-thigh, pushing her skirt up an inch or so. She whispered something in his ear. I don’t know what her words were, but I’m betting she wasn’t asking him to stop.
Emboldened, he let his hand knead higher. I thought the girl was going to squirm out of her seat before he could rest his hand on her panties. I considered taking her pleasure down a notch, but I could tell that the good girl in her was still struggling, still trying to make herself stop him. Vaguely conscious that they were still in a public place, she expressed her excitement by clutching at his thigh, an act which ran counter to any hopes that he would slow down.
His hand reached her panties. The voyeur in me had to know, so I checked her memory from when she’d gotten dressed. You know, it’s funny. People often aren’t aware of what color underwear they are wearing, but the memory is stored where I can get to it. You just have to know where to look.
Oh, how sweet, I thought. White cotton with pink cherries printed on it. I willed her to take them off, and her boyfriend nearly creamed when she complied.
His fingers were shaking when they reached her slit, which was good, because he really had no idea what to do once he got there. Then again, she didn’t know what she wanted either; the little thing had never even masturbated. I planted the thought in his head that he should play with her clitoris, and then I mentally guided his hand to it. She bit her lip to keep from groaning when his shaking fingertip got there.
By now, her hand was squeezing his thigh anxiously, and I could tell she was slowly working it higher. To heck with charity, I thought, I deserve a little payoff for this. I willed a command to the boyfriend: He was to notice nothing that his date did to me. My next directive went to her: She was to do to me everything she did to him, and to think nothing of it.
Her petite left hand clutched at my pants leg, mirroring the actions of its mate. As her boyfriend’s trembling fingers worked magic on her wet clit, her hand wandered higher; I heard her gasp as she felt our hardness in her hands. I knew from my scans that she’d never touched a cock, but some girls are just naturals I guess. She pumped us both like a pro, and he spurted in an instant.
Sometimes you just never know about a girl. There are some I have to train to cum when I do. This girl was so turned on by her boyfriend’s orgasm that she had one of her own then and there.
Her hands snaked away from our members. His was spent, but mine was still hard, so I shot off a quick command for her to keep going on me. I’d really meant to just ease her into doing things she really wanted to do anyway, but the feel of her fingers through my jeans was too much. I willed her to unzip my fly, and she eagerly did so, frantically reaching for my engorged member. Feeling her fingers on it was tremendous, and I was surprised to feel myself edging toward the brink.
Sure, I’d set out to be good Samaritan, to help the nice guy to score with the girl he really cared about. But then again, she’d set out to be a good girl, and pleasure had overwhelmed us both to the point that she now had her hand wrapped around the cock of a complete stranger—and it was turning her on.
So I was through being nice. I gave her a command to go along with what I wanted, and then I pushed her head into my lap. Her lips sought out my manhood, and she sucked it into her mouth just as I started to spray. She gagged slightly, but I eased her through it and gave her the order not to swallow and not to spit. She sat up with her mouth full of my juice, and I gave her one last command.
Kiss your boyfriend, I told her silently, grinning as she frenched him for all she was worth. I’m such a bastard sometimes.
I zipped up my pants and let it go at that. After all, the movie was nearly over. I knew that for as long as he could keep pleasing her, boy Romeo was going to have the girlfriend of his dreams. Heck, the way those two were into each other, I figured they might have a shot at lasting love. If nothing else, I was betting her virginity wouldn’t last the night.
As the house lights came up, I scanned the crowd, visually and mentally, and my eyes fell on two curvy Hispanic girls with tight jeans and bare midriffs. College freshmen, I could sense, ripe for adventure. Well, I’m sure they wouldn’t mind having a private adventure with me for the weekend. Heck, they’d be absolutely delighted.