Restroom detour.

"Eurgh," I grimaced, hand over my belly. Turned out, the restrooms came first.

I scurried west, to the nearest ones available. Inconveniently for me, they had to be the Green Corners.

Basically they were a popular spot for pot-heads. Not that I had anything against them -- I puffed once or twice before, via a friend's totally wired out cousin -- but, well, good luck trying to get through a 5-man crowd on paydays.

Rushing in, I took a stall and did my business. To my relief it was empty. After a flush I took a sink and began washing my hands, then took out my phone and checked the time when suddenly a yelp sounded beside me.

"Wh-what are you doing here?!" A cute girl with brown hair that reached the top of her back in a shirt and tight jeans was looking at me, slightly mortified. Then her eyes landed on my phone, and her wrinkles dug even further.

Crap. I was in the wrong restroom. In my rush I didn't even notice the absence of urinals.

"I--" I paused, wondering if I should just summon my ability. Didn't want her deeming me a creep. However, as she stood there, she balled up her fists and stepped back.

"Get out, creep!" Her eyes were shut tight, like a board of onions were in the room. She couldn't even look at me.

Well, looks like it was too late for that. Changing gears, I suddenly felt a little aggrieved at how she jumped to conclusions.

"Wait," I said, the mark on my wrist lightly glowing. "I need to take a picture of your pussy first!"

Eyes still averted, she said, "Do it and go!" Right before my eyes, she unzipped her jeans and began pushing them down over her butt. I gulped, ignoring the conscience in the back of my mind.

"Well?" she pushed her panties to the side of her crotch, exposing her nicely shaped pussy lips to me. "Are you gonna take a picture of it or not, perv?"

I considered what she said, still miffed about how persistently her discomfort was oriented around me. I decided to help her out and redirect her thinking a bit.

You are excited to have your pussy's picture taken, I thought at her.

She took on a briefly puzzled expression. Then in the next second she was looking down at her partially exposed pussy then back up at me, her body language a complete 180.

"Oh come on already!" She said, smiling. She walked up to me, thrusting her pussy in front of my face. "Take a picture of it already! I can't wait to see how my snatch looks on your phone, guy!"

"You sure you want this?" I asked, feigning uncertainty. She just nodded.

"Please please please, take my pussy's picture! Oh I can't wait to see it." She paused for thought, a sportive tone in her voice. "I even wonder if my boyfriend would be able to tell it was mine."

"If you say so," I lifted up my phone and aligned her pussy in front of it, and obliged.

Snap! I asked her to adjust her panties a bit. Snap! Then pull them down a little. Snap! Even took my own hand and stretched it out a bit, which she went along with, since she really wanted her clit to be in my phone gallery. Snap snap snap!

Once we were done, she slapped her panties back over her crotch.

"So," the brown-haired, previously normal unassuming student turned to me, cooled off. She was a lot more attractive when happy. "You're going to send those to me, right?"

"Of course," I said. "Just give me your phone number."

"No prob!" She replied, and took out a piece of paper.

I smiled, looking at her and handily amused at her new attitude as she scribbled her number on it. I asked her name.

"It's Christina," she offered.

As I took the paper she began pulling her pants back up. Admittedly after what had just happened, and with just me and her in this male-restricted space, her helpless mind was looking as tempting as a lone gazelle in an expanse of unending directions. I tried to calm myself down anyway; even with my head swimming through a diaspora of thoughts. Maybe some things were worth saving.