Jaycee's Blog - Sat, Dec 11

Well, this was a fun day, especially since I had all day to run around and seed mischief all around town. I have to say, after the year I've had (heck, the year we've all had), it's nice to be able to unwind with some mindless fun.

First, I went to this breakfast/brunch restaurant I like to go to on weekends. It's not far from my place, where the waitresses know me, and where the food is pretty good. (And no, don't get any ideas about the waitresses, they're in their fifties and not the object of any of my fantasies.) I tend to sit at the counter, where I have my usual spot, but this time, I decided to ask for a booth. Since I'm a regular and I tend to go early, that's not an issue. I asked for a specific booth that has a good view of the rest of the tables so I could scope out potential targets.

An adorable young couple sat in another booth across from the service hall. They were holding hands and staring deep into each other's eyes with unashamed sweetness. The girl was a half-Asian slim blonde wearing a green shirt and white skirt. Her long earrings dangled almost down to her shoulders. For fun, I took control of her lower body—since, as I mentioned earlier, that was today's faerie gift—had her cross her legs tightly, and forcing her foot to do this rapid up-down motion that nervous people do. That would cause rhythmic pressure against her little bean.

She didn't realize she was doing it at first, but it must have begun feeling good pretty quickly because she stopped talking, a puzzled expression on her face. Her boyfriend asked her if she was all right. She sallowed and said yes. She kept on talking, but the squeezing was fast and relentless. She clutched at the table and gasped for air. When he asked if she was okay again, she held up a hand to silence him. She looked around in a panic, probably meaning for her legs to stop and failing. I think the feeling got overwhelming and amazing, and she quickly shut her eyes. Her hands balled into fist. Her breathing quickened. At last, she came in hard, long spasms. Her boyfriend watched her, dumbstruck and probably more than a little aroused by her loss of control.

I did that to several women through the course of the day—cost me a little fortune in restaurants, but it was totally worth it. The pièce de résistance (that's French for "main course") came when I looked up a salsa club and decided to check it out. I've taken salsa classes before and wasn't very good at it, but that's not what I was interested in anyway. The place I chose also played a type of music called bachata. If you're ever seen bachata (or better yet, danced it), you know it's pretty much consensual dry humping. Your legs and interlocked with the girl's, and when you dance and bend your knees, you're pretty much humping the other person's leg. Oh yeah, and your body are pressed tightly against each other, so you'll feel the girl's boobs on your chest. (If that doesn't give you an urge to take a bachata class right now, there's something wrong with you! ;)

At any rate, with my ability to control people's lower body, you can easily guess what I was about to do. While bachata is a sexy and close-up dance, there are always a few more shy and conservative people who are hesitant about dancing that close. They use a more open frame and keep a puritan distance between each other. Tonight, that wasn't going to happen. Every couple that started distant from one another found itself in a more "proper" bachata position, their crotches grinding lasciviously against one another. They tried resisting it (especially the female partners), but after about a minute of this sexy humping, most surrendered to the rising heat in their groin. There was a lot of rapid breathing and even more flushed faces. I did spot two guys who (I'm pretty sure) had discreet orgasms and one girl who had an obvious (and loud) one. Were it not for my forcing her to stand there, she probably would have run off. As it were, she just stood there, covering her flaming cheeks.

I did invite her to dance later—her name was Véronique. She had a very skinny frame, but her face was a classic beauty that completely fascinated me. (We're talking more beautiful than Sophia Loren in her good years, or even Monica Bellucci.) As she'd done with her previous partner, she (involuntarily) moved in very close to me and ground her crotch so hard against mine that I couldn't help produce a solid boner in response. Soon enough, I didn't care about the dancing anymore and made her hump more frantically against me. I'm pretty sure her orgasms started before mine and ended much after I was done.

I "released" my hold on her and she fled the scene like her hair was on fire. Some big guy from security came to ask me to leave, which I did. As far as he could prove, I hadn't done anything really wrong, but I thought it'd be more prudent not to get myself too noticed.

And just for fun, on the bus ride home, I had a girl (who was wearing a skirt and some gray leggings) to spontaneously spread her legs as wide as her flexibility would allow. When she realized she couldn't close them, she covered her crotch with both hands—not that it needed covering. The leggings were opaque. But I think she just felt...vulnerable.

All in all, a fun enough day, I'd say.

--Jaycee