No, this is good.

It's hard to think that things could get any better than this. You can almost taste Shana's flow as she writhes in the women's restroom, her girlfriend's officious lips and tongue servicing her pussy. The sensations seize control of her body, and she starts to sweat and spasm every which way. With every breath her big bouncy tits jut forward, and Haruka can scarcely resist the sight of the airy balloons, dancing and tantalizing.

Haruka reaches down to her own naked pussy and pleasures herself with long lazy strokes. She glides along her own sex with her finger tips, with just a bit of pressure. Outside, you can feel it, too, though it's amazing that such a little touch feels as strong as it does. It's like a handjob and a blowjob all at once as you get yourself further inside the minds of both the well-sexed ladies.

"Mmmmore, Haruka..." Shana moans, breathing very hard now. Haruka darts her tongue in and out as fast she can for her lover. The girl on top starts to get noisy as she can no longer contain her joy. "Ohhhh Haruka, more!!" Then Haruka slips one hand between Shana's thighs and massages the shimmering clit with two soft fingers.

"I-- I'm going crazy!!" Shana cries. Haruka smiles to herself, happy that she can bring such ecstasy to her girlfriend. She naturally provides herself with some, too. With her other two fingertips, she slides inside her own walls just a few inches, and digs very slowly and gently. This is the way she likes it. A little unlike her lover, who is a slut that just wants more and more.

But Shana can hardly be blamed. Her body feels like it's on fire. She barely has any control over herself whatsoever.

Meanwhile, out in the coffee shop, you can feel your own wetness permeating your underwear. You adjust yourself in your seat, so as to make yourself a little less conspicuous. Michael Hersh doesn't notice anything, as he's too busy mind-flirting with that doting waitress, who might still think he's Brad Pitt. So he must not be paying attention to your "lesson" at all. It feels more like you're the one giving lessons-- to two Japanese lesbians on how to love eachother. Looks like you're really getting the hang of this!

A chance arises to see how skilled you truly are. An older woman gets up from her drink and plods over to the restroom. You quickly push into her the suggestion that she might as well finish her coffee before she uses the toilet. She easily obliges and goes back to her seat, where you suggest that coffee tastes better when enjoyed slowly, which can be true enough. The woman bites, and your two subjects in the bathroom are safe from public exposure for a little longer.

But as luck would have it, more and more people need to use the restroom, and you can only keep so many out for so long. You push with your mind, this way and that, convincing women of all kinds that they don't need to pee, or wash their hands, or that their hair looks fine, but biological urges soon trump your mental impositions, and it becomes more than a matter of just pushing suggestions. You actively try to control the most ardent, spending a lot of brain power to hold them at bay. It's working, but the strain on your mind is taking its toll, reviving that horrid headache.

You're beginning to lose control. Your consciousness jumps from person to person, completely lost in the sea of psyches. You feel the urge to urinate yourself, you even feel... cramped, and bloated... you suddenly feel fat.

The headache turns into a migraine, smashing your cranium like a heavy metal drummer. It would be best to pull out of everything, but suddenly it's hard to tell which consciousness is really yours. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to go in so deep. Maybe you should...should...

...should get back up. Someone familiar looks down at you, saying something, but you can't hear it. The floor feels so hard on your paralyzed body. You struggle to recover, but you're so numb you can't tell if you're moving at all.

And then everything is black.