I thought it’d be funny to commission artists to do some of of the characters Bloomin’ Faeries! in the controversial “Spider-Woman” pose. This variant, done by famous Italian artist Milo Manara, shows Spider-Woman in a pose that has everybody in an uproar. (Me, I really like it.)
This time: Lara.
“I’m doing it.”
This morning, I was going for brunch with Martine. (Y’all know what brunch means, right?) Since the weather was nice, Martine and I decided to bike our way downtown. On the way there, at a major intersection, all four lights are down and there’s a cop in the middle, waving at cars and managing traffic. I’m not sure what her deal was, but she was in a seemingly very cranky mood and yelled at Martine for stopping a little bit past the line on the ground. I tried to protest, but she immediately pulled out a small can of what I think was pepper spray, waving it in front of my eyes. “BACK OFF, ASSHOLE!” she shouted. So back off I did.
I’ll be honest, I generally like cops and appreciate the hard work they do for us. But this woman wasn’t that kind of cop. She was aggressive and on some kind of ego trip.
So I checked her out and saw that–imagine that!–she was getting off on using her authority. Not talking major arousal, here, just… a small tingle. But a tingle is all I needed. I gave her a nudge and imagined the thrill that coursed down her spine and settled between her legs. She squirmed a little. I gently elbowed Martin, mouthing “check this out” silently at her, my eyes darting between her and the angry female cop. I could see the officer was trying to shift her weight around, perhaps because the seam of her pants was giving her thrills (what do I know, I’m not a mind reader!). Then I focused on her panties and tried to shape them into a thick cylinder that would push gently in and out of her sex.
It didn’t take long for the sexual teasing to affect her. Her hips swayed and occasionally jerked forward, as if pushing back against some invisible lover. She obviously struggled to keep her composure, continuing to motion for cars to move and others to stop.
And then it was our time to cross, so we did just that. Unfortunately, driving a bicycle and controlling a sexy cop’s underwear are mutually exclusive activities, so I couldn’t keep it up. But maybe I’ll go back there later and see if I can torture her some more.
“I’m doing it.”
I’ve been in an experimenting mood since Sunday. I tried my “fabrikinesis” ability on some other people, to no apparent effect. But this morning, on my way to work, I had a partial success!
There’s this bagel shop I go to every morning, and one of the girls at the cash–her name is Cecile–apparently has a mild crush on me. (I’m not being arrogant, I can just “see” she’s a little turned on when I talk to her.) She’s got a big rack, made to look bigger by the slightly undersized blouse she’s wearing (I guess the shop didn’t have one exactly her size). We were making conversation while I was waiting for my order. Just for fun, I nudged her arousal a little and she stammered, perhaps realizing she was getting excited. Then, without giving it much thought, I imagined her bra groping her breasts and massaging them, like invisible hands were touching her. I kept my eyes locked with hers, but I swear, at the edge of my vision, I think I saw her boobs move. Maybe it was just a natural jiggle, but I’m betting it wasn’t.
That’s all it was, but I was pretty pleased with myself. Poor girl might have been a little freaked out, but since there was no one around her except me (and, obviously, I wasn’t doing anything), she’ll just chalk it up to her fertile imagination.
“I’m doing it.”
Thanks to my link with Minx, I seem to be developing the occasional new ability. They’re not always reliable and don’t always last very long, but they are usually interesting.
This past weekend, a new thing popped up. Martine and I were doing some shopping–I was treating myself to new clothes. We passed in front of a lingerie shop and I thought it’d be a good idea if she bought something for herself at the same time (and let’s not kid ourselves, lingerie is a gift for both of us, right?).
So we went in this place called Senza. Martine browsed through the aisles, selecting a few items she thought would make her look sexy. (Frankly, anything makes her sexy, if you ask me.) She finally circled back to me and showd me her selections. One of them, something with a high cut, looked so tiny that I thought it was going to give her a wedgie. I couldn’t help picture it in my mind–the slim fabric slipping out of place, pushing and rubbing against her crotch. I was interrupted from my reverie by a gasp from Martine. I looked at her and realized her squirming wasn’t normal. Her arousal had shot up, but not from anything I’d done to her (I can tell the difference–this time, it was from physical stimulation, not a magical “nudge”). She put a hand on my shoulder to steady herself.
“Are you all right?” I asked.
“Wedgie!” she said, exhaling sharply.
She reached down to discreetly “readjust” her underwear through her skirt, but that didn’t work. She looked at me with suspicion.
“Are… you doing this?”
I gave her a puzzled look.
“I don’t think so…”
“Because these panties… AH! …have never done that. And now, even if I pull them out, they slip back in… Oooh…”
I decided to experiment, just in case it was something new. I focused on her panties and “willed” them to start rubbing back and forth, gently caressing her lady parts. She dropped the lingerie and held me with both hands, gasping for air. She looked at me with a mock-accusing expression, repressing a smile. She knew what was going on, and so did I. I wondered if I could do the same thing with her bra, so I focused on that as well. Panties rubbing her crotch, bra caressing her nipples. She moaned and looked around quickly.
“I’m… aaah… I’m going to need a bathroom…”
I pointed to a changing room instead. “I think that’s closer.”
She looked at me with this “you’re-gonna-pay-for-this” glare and headed to the cabinet on wobbly, unsteady legs. I grabbed the lingerie she’d forgotten and chased after her, simultaneously willing for her underwear to speed up the friction. It was really hot, watching her stumble on her way to the changing room. Her breathing was so fast and ragged that I didn’t think she’d make it in time before the orgasm hit her.
I’m glad to report it all worked out. She was successful in a few things: 1) having a powerful climax; 2) managing to stay mostly silent through the ordeal; and 3) getting rid of her bra and panties, and going commando for the rest of the day.
“I’m doing it.”