Practice makes perfect. Never was that old chestnut truer than during the earliest days of my mental growth. The more I tapped into people's memories, the easier it became. The more I visited people's minds for a "live" encounter, the faster I was able to receive their sensory and mental input. And the more I tried to influence people to act a certain way, the better I became at it.

My experience bedding Jennifer, the cheerleader, had good and bad points. On the upside, I'd been able to fuck one of the most gorgeous girls in the whole school. The sight of her golden triangle wet with my cum still pops up every time I hear that name. On the downside, the need to make so many mental suggestions before and during our "date" had left me exhausted with a big, fat headache. In order to get the fullest enjoyment from my encounters, I'd have to simplify things a lot.

You may be wondering what it feels like to have a suggestion put into your mind. (The paranoid among you might even now be blaming us for your bad decisions. Go ahead. But remember, there's a whole lot more of you than there are of us. So maybe, just maybe, you made that bad decision on your own.) Suppose you're driving along the same route you take to work every day. On the spur of the moment, you turn off onto another street, only to find your path delayed by a traffic back-up. "Why in the world did I do that?" you rage at yourself. You can't think of any possible reason why you would've left a perfectly clear path. You just do it. There doesn't seem to be a rational reason why. Of course, your mind is quick to provide explanations. You were bored with the old route. You wanted to get away from that erratic driver. You were blindly following the car in front of you. Just like your mind fills in details your eyes don't catch, it also fills in rationalizations for your actions.

It's that ability that helped me simplify the suggestion process. I knew from my research at the mall that the mind needs very little fodder to create a rationalization for an action. Witness the number of people who claim they've been abducted by aliens and forced to have sex. (If you classify aliens as having superior mental capabilities, then, yes, the aliens are among you. But I don't know about any of us who are using the "alien" method.) Anyway, I surmised that to simplify things I only needed to supply the recipient with a bank of rationalizations for that person's mind to draw from. I would implant this bank into any person I needed to manipulate and be saved the rigors of devising individual back-up stories and suggestions for each person.

For instance, I would suggest that I could give my host something no one else can. The host's mind supplies the rest. For example, if she's a career woman, she might rationalize that I can help her get a better position in the company. If he's a police officer, he might believe that he's acting more sensitive by not giving me a ticket. I also suggest that I'm the only one who can provide this service, that I'm the best at it, that the recipient will receive the most pleasure from it, and that I offer a golden opportunity that can't be passed up. Most importantly, I make the person believe that they're not responsible for their actions. I make it easier for them to accept that it was just a spur of the moment thing, that they're in love, that it's fate, or whatever psychological crutch they like to use. Once this bank of rationalizations is in place, my hosts just go with the flow. And they'll do whatever I want.

I had a good chance to test my theory on my friend Jessica LeFavre. Jess and I had gone on a couple of dates when she hit me with the dreaded "let's be friends" scenario. Since she played a prominent role in many of my fantasies, as well as having a good sense of humor, I agreed to her stipulation of friendship. But I never stopped wanting to get in her pants, especially after seeing her in a white bikini.

Jess stood a little bit shorter than me and had a lithe, perpetually tanned body. Her tits were a little on the small side, which meant she never had to wear a bra. And since any stray breeze seemed to cause her nipples to harden, you can see why I was always looking for ways to sneak a peek down her top. Her longish legs had not a bit of fat on them, and they ended in a boyish butt that never failed to catch my eye. Bright green eyes framed a small pert nose, and her mouth, while a tad too wide, had full lips which promised sweet treats to whatever man was lucky enough to enjoy them. Best of all, Jess had long, silky brown hair, which flowed down to the middle of her back. I wanted to drown in that hair.

Her single failing characteristic, as far as I was concerned, was her belief that she and I were better together as friends than as lovers. Though I joked, flirted and otherwise tried to maneuver her into a compromising position, she brushed it all off with a dismissive wave of her hand. She'd be a real test of my abilities.

I set my plan into motion at the mall as we shared a bag of fries at lunch. It took only a few seconds to implant the bank of rationalizations in her mind; she didn't even pause in her story about how her sister's boyfriend had come on to her. I decided to strike quickly before she had any chance at all to question this new attitude toward me.

"Let's go to your house and fool around," I said to her, placing my hand on her knee. She didn't even hesitate in replying, "OK."

I knew that her parents spent every warm weekend at their vacation home and that her sister wouldn't miss such a warm day at the beach. So we'd have the entire place to ourselves. On the ride over I kept up a steady stream of comments, flirting with her every second. I knew I had her hooked when I put my hand between her thighs and she just squeezed them shut, holding my hand in place while giving me a smoky sensuous look.