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Like everyone with the power, I suppose, it took me a long time to figure out I even had it.

It's not like you get an instruction manual when you're born, or they schedule an orientation session for you when you turn 18.

Unless you are exceptionally intuitive, chances are good you only begin to grasp your potential by accident. If you ever do.

In my case that accident was a particularly nasty hangover.

I'd been at a club the night before to attend yet another CD release party for yet another lousy local band.

Several pitchers and a couple of hours of fitful sleep later, I was commuting to work and wondering if I was going to heave right then and there on the bus.

In order to forestall that embarrassing possibility, I tried deep breathing to calm my churning stomach.

Mind cleared of all the petty annoyances of everyday life and focused intensely on the rhythmic pattern of my breathing, I stared at the driver with a single burning thought running through my head:

"I wish you would hurry up and get to my stop...."

In my preoccupied state it took a couple of moments before I noticed something unusual happening.

The bus that was only a moment ago poking along the street and stopping at every corner was now doing a steady 45 mph and whizzing right by startled groups of people clustered on street corners.

Equally startled were the other passengers, whose pleas for stops along the way went unheeded. She waved them off politely but distractedly.

Before I knew it, I was at my stop.

Startled, I stepped off amidst a group of pissed off commuters and watched with interest as the diesel behemoth pulled away. It continued on at its usual sluggish pace until it was out of sight.

Even in my incapacitated state, I was intrigued.

That certainly never happened before. It was far too much of a coincidence to believe that the driver just decided on her own that she had an urgent need to speed to that particular stop.

Later, after my stomach returned to normal, I called the transit company and pretended I was one of those irate passengers left off blocks away from their intended destination.

"I don't know what to tell you sir," intoned an officious voice at the other end of the line. "You're the fifth person to call this morning and complain, but our driver said she doesn't remember anything like that happening. It must be some kind of mistake."

Some kind of miracle was more like it

Could I have projected a single overpowering impulse into a someone else's mind? An impulse strong enough to make her ignore all normal rules of behavior until she had satisfied it?

I decided that the idea was at least worth of a couple experiments. What could be the worst thing that would happen? I'd feel foolish for considering such a far fetched idea and get back to business as usual.

When lunch time came, I went to the Italian restaurant across the street to try my luck.

After enjoying a tasty pasta salad and a couple of ice cold bottles of beer, I cleared my mind again and started concentrating on my breathing. When I reached a sufficiently focused state, I stared intently at my waitress and let a single thought run through my mind:

"I wish you would pay for this lunch yourself..."

There was no outward change in her appearance, but she came over and asked me if I wanted anything else. When I said no, she smiled and said:

"You're such a good customer, why don't you let this be my treat."

A profound feeling of satisfaction came over me. It was me! I made her do that!

Not wanting to stiff a college student who was probably working for tuition money, I left a big enough tip to cover the cost of the meal.

Back at my desk I thought it over.

I didn't "read" her mind. I couldn't "read" any body's mind. It seemed, however, that I could project my will to others in small bursts.

Over the next week I did some more experimenting to determine the limits of this power.

I determined that I had to be looking at a person to affect him or her, that I could only project to one person at a time, and that my projection had to involve a specific action with a defined termination point.

One that termination point had been reached, the person was back to normal with no memory of the incident

I could not, for instance, make a person fall in love with me or become my "slave."

What would be the point of that anyway? Life's complicated enough without creating someone totally dependent on me for everything.

Don't get me wrong. It's not like I waited long to explore the sexual fringe benefits my ability gave me.

The first time I tried this I was virtually trembling with excitement. I had arranged my schedule so that I had no meetings all morning, and set out at change of class to find a likely student for the experiment.

I cruised to the student union where there was no short of tender, young flesh to choose from. I took up a position at a cluttered table and survey the bounty before me.

There were slender Asian beauties, athletic blondes in tight jeans, dusky daughters of Egypt and Africa and every sort of woman in between. Just the thought of getting to choose from among such pulchritude make my cock rigid in anticipation.

I settled on a healthy, if a bit spacey-looking, blond in a white t-shirt and short denim skirt.

She was finishing off a plate of French fries, and from the pleasure she was taking in licking the catsup from her fingers, I figured she enjoyed oral gratification of other varieties.

I went into my projection technique and concentrated on a single desire:

"I wish you would give me the best blow job you're capable of...."

There was no outward change in her demeanor, as was often the case in this situation. Most recipients of the implanted command seemed to remain relatively in character. They couldn't explain why the felt compelled to act in a certain manner, but nor did they feel alarmed or threatened.

Every so often a very susceptible mind would assume a druggy, drowsy lethargy that invited other suggestions, but that's another story.

Anyway, after giving the suggestion time to sink in I walked over and sat opposite my suspect.

Up close, her breasts were even larger than I had originally divined. My suggestion must have roused some stirrings in her, for her nipples poked stiffly against the fabric of her soft cotton top.

After exchanging pleasantries, I asked her if she was ready to go back to my office. She treated the suggestion as a perfectly natural one, and we walked across campus in companionable silence.

We settled into the office and I locked the door to be sure we didn't get unexpected company.

As excited as I was, I also felt fairly awkward. Normally I tend to ease into these things, but I wasn't sure how compliant my suggestion would render Faith.

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Fortunately, I didn't have to worry long as she (literally) took matters in her own hands.

She invited me to sit next to her on the institutionally uncomfortable love seat across from my desk and leaned in for a kiss.

Mingled with the not all together unpleasant aroma of greasy campus food was her own clean, fresh feminine scent. It was an aphrodisiac unlike any other.

As we kissed with increasing passion she reached down and unzipped my pants. In anticipation of such festivities I had left my underwear in my briefcase this morning.

My hard cock sprang eagerly from its hot, cramped prison to a cool, soft one much more to its liking.

Faith traced its length with her fingertips, her soft strokes causing it to spring and jerk involuntarily.

"Why don't you take your pants off and get comfortable," she suggested in a husky voice. Who was I to argue with that?

When I stood up to loosen my belt and slip them off, my soldier of love dangled directly in front of my very willing subject.

She continued slowly stroking it and slid it in and out of her fist languidly. As an added treat, she paused to pull her shirt over her head and free her firm, round breasts.

She teased my cockhead with first one, then another nipple. By then I was leaking a healthy amount pre-cum, which she made a point of smearing across both my cock head and her nipples.

"Let's see how you taste," she said. "Do you want to sit down?"

Actually, I was gripped with an intense desire to fuck her lovely face and told he so.

"Sounds good to me," she agreed cheerfully.

It took every bit of willpower I had not to come buckets when she slid her lips over the head of my cock and began to roll her tongue across the hole.

I've had blow jobs before, but the experience was never so erotic. Something about knowing I could just about have my way with any woman I wanted whenever I wanted made my excitement that much more intense.

As she engulfed the length of my rod, my hips began a fucking motion I was practically powerless to control.

Ever the good cheerleader, Faith urged me on. Pausing from her ministrations, she whispered lewd suggestions and exhortations.

"Fuck my face. Stick your cock down my throat. I want to drink your come for you."

Well, that pretty much did it for me. I felt my climax building and reluctantly disengaged from her soft oral embrace.

"Actually, if you don't mind, I'd love to come on your tits" I gasped.

"That's fine too," she agreed. "Just so I can taste and smell your come all over me."

She knelt up on the love seat and lovingly placed my twitching tool between her mounds. I managed two or three fucking motions before unleashing a stream of come the likes of which I'd never achieved before.

I felt as though my entire life force was pouring out of my dick onto her face and tits. She lapped hungrily at the spurts that made it to her full lips, and moaned wantonly.

This continued for another minute or so before I could breath again and enjoy the sight in front of me.

There was Faith rubbing my sticky come all across her breasts and licking it from her fingers. This woman obviously enjoyed her work!

Not wanting to be selfish despite the advantage my power gave me, I asked her if she wanted to come too.

"I'm so very close I don't think I could stand it if I didn't," she admitted.

I sat next to her on the couch and reached under her short skirt. He panties were soaked, as I had expected.

We kissed for a moment, and pulled my head to her sticky breasts.

"Do you mind?" she quizzed.

"Not at all," I replied as she rolled them and mashed them into my face. I reached under her skirt again and ever so slightly ran a finger across the wet fabric, teasing her stiff clit. It took only as moment or two, and she began to tremble and shake and press herself to me even harder.

"Oh fuck," she moaned. "Oh Jesus Oh God Oh Fuck."

She came for a couple minutes, it seemed, and collapsed back to the now soggy love seat. I smoothed her hair from her sweaty sticky face with a real feeling of tenderness.

"I'm always going to remember this," I whispered as she panted. "Now matter how many times I use the power this is always going to be the most special time for me.

After a moment or two of quiet, Faith spoke up.

"It wasn't you, you know."

"What do you mean," I asked, furrowing my brow.

"I could feel you trying to get through to me with the power and blocked the suggestion," she explained.

"You know about the power?" new to me." A thought dawned on me. "Say, if it wasn't the power, why did you come with me."

"I wanted to see how you would use it," she explained. "Some people go crazy and get mean. We don't want people like that around us."

"Us? Who's us?"

She smiled mysteriously. "I can't tell you. First I have to report back about this encounter."

As she stood up to gather up her things and get dressed, she added reassuringly, "Don't worry, I'm going to give you a glowing report."

She finished dressing and turned with a smile.

"Be seeing you....."