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I walked throughout the city that night, rejuvenated by my long rest and by the high that I got from hearing Kelly say that she thought I was cute. I started pulling some pranks along the way. I guy was complaining loudly to a waiter about the fish that he had ordered. So I froze time, positioned the wine glass that he was holding upside down right above his crotch, and started time to watch him wet himself. I stopped a beautiful brunette who was jogging near the park and cut away her skin tight shorts and tube top revealing her heaving bosom in mid upward thrust and her neatly trimmed bush. And for my good deed of the day, I stopped a man who was trying to rob a liquor store, replaced the .38 that he was pointing at the clerk with a banana, and pulled down his pants and underwear down to his ankles. When I started time again, the clerk got a look at the banana in the robber's hand and picked up his baseball bat. The robber tried to run, tripped over his pants, and fell face first into the newspaper stand next to him. The clerk then proceeded to stand over the robber with a bat to his head until the police came by to take him away.
The noise of the world, the constant honking of horns, the number of people on a Friday night (I found out what day it was by peeking at a man's newspaper who was reading it on the street), was just getting to me. On top of it all, it was also one of the colder nights that we've had in a while. Many of the people on the street were dressed rather warmly, which had made it pretty difficult to check out the babes with the tight bodies, (but I was always a face guy first anyway.) After a bit of walking, I found myself near the edge of town at a coffee house that I would consider "uppity".
Jazz music pumped through the tiny speakers near the gas powered lamps outside. Many people were in small groups either discussing the latest animal in danger that they need to free or the latest indie French film that wasn't getting nearly enough publicity. Others were alone reading, writing, or (I could only guess) thinking about poetry. I ordered a small coffee and took a seat outside the café, closest to the street.
After hearing about the evils of society and the lack of respect that society had for the Horned Footed Toad for what seemed like the millionth time, I snapped my fingers, and that now familiar silence filled the air. I sipped my coffee happily and took the front page away from a frozen man reading it at the table across from me. As I was in the middle of reading about the continuing tensions in the Middle East and wondering if my new powers could do some good, I spotted a young brunette in the opposite corner of the café alone. I stood up and placed the paper, upside down, back in the man's hands, and walked over to her.
She was heavily engrossed in her books which were spread all over the table. She had a pencil in one hand holding it up to her lips. The other hand held the handle of a coffee cup. She was dressed rather conservatively, a black shirt a dark indigo denim jacket, tan Capri pants, and black shoes. She was very light skinned, almost pale, which was in great contrast to her long dark hair. Her eyes were light green and she wore very little makeup, just some dark red lipstick. Her hair felt dry, as if it was the victim of one too many perms, but even the coarseness of her hair added to her beauty. She wasn't flawless, but definitely a beauty. I reached into her purse for her wallet to get her ID. Her name was Mia Kennedy, 23 years old, and a student at the University (as if the books all over the place didn't give it away.) According to her license, she was about 5'4" and 125 lbs. I looked her once over quickly and concluded that she hadn't lied about her weight. I commanded her to stand at attention so I could get a better look at her.
She was indeed about 5'4"since she only came up to my shoulders. Her eyes were glazed over but still enthralling. They were large too and green, like lily covered ponds. Her hair was about shoulder length and wavy at the ends. Her nose was small and pointy and turned up at little at the tip. But she didn't look like the stuck-up type. On top of her makeup consisting only of lipstick, her nails were unpainted but well manicured. I always did like the most basic of styles, and this girl was looking far too basic to be high maintenance. Her breasts jutted out from her chest from under her clothes. Since she was such a small girl, I guessed it must have been a push up bra of sorts. She did however, have a ring with a solitaire diamond on her left ring finger. Mia was engaged to be married. I kissed her on the lips lightly and turned to look at the rest of the café. There would be more to find out much later.
Another brunette caught my eye in the far corner opposite where my table was. She was in workout gear, a white and yellow windbreaker jacket, black biker shorts, short socks, and white cross trainer shoes. She wore a white baseball cap with her long black ponytail sticking out the back. A black mountain bike next to her was about to fall over and she had been reaching out to catch it, a surprised look on her face. She was Asian, perhaps Chinese, but certainly beautiful, even with the frozen look of shock on her face. Her eyebrows were arched, mouth slightly open, arms outstretched, and she was in a half-sitting, half-standing position as she was in the process of leaping out of her seat to catch her falling bicycle.
I walked up to her and bent down to get a better look at her face. She was indeed lovely. Because she had been working out, she had almost no makeup. But she was a natural beauty. Her face was nearly blemish free, lips a dark red (I ran my finger across her lips to see if it was lipstick and found to my amazement that it was not), and her brown eyes were wide, unlike many Asians that I knew. I placed my hand on her buttocks and squeezed, reveling in its firmness. She was definitely in great shape. Her legs were long and well defined. They didn't have an ounce of fat on them. She was tan, a dark golden brown. It made me wonder if she was just naturally that dark, or if her hours of outdoor exercise had given her the wonderful skin tone she had. She too would make a perfect subject. I commanded her to stand at attention and got a better look at her.
The Asian beauty stood at attention before me, but I laughed as her face has retained the shocked look on her face that I had found her in. It was no matter to me, of course, in fact, it was a bit of a turn-on. She was quite tall, I'd say about 5'8' or 5'9" or so, and looked as built as a personal trainer. I unzipped her white windbreaker jacket and parted the sides to reveal her black tube-top shirt that looked more like a sports bra. Her breasts looked on the small side, but it may have been the tight material pressing them down. Her abs looked strong and well defined however. I worked her jacket off her and saw that her arms were slender but nicely cut. She wasn't muscular like a body builder, but sexy, like an aerobics instructor. I zipped the pouch around her waist and pulled out her tiny wallet. Her name was Christina Ramirez, 28 years old, Filipino (so she was indeed an Asian), and decidedly single. She wore no ring on her finger, nor did she have a tan on that finger.
So here were two completely different women, on the outside anyway, both attractive in their own ways, one engaged, one single, but both, at least for the meantime, belonging to me. I commanded them to follow me out of the café. After a few blocks, I had decided that it was just a bit too far to walk all the way back to my apartment. Besides, I was growing quite anxious to play with my new toys so I stopped in front of a building with fancy doors, and made my way inside.
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