Yes, with tomboy friend Marcie in tow

"Now put one nipple in your mouth."

"Like this?"

You watch with bated breath as Vanessa scoops her left tit and pulls her bra out of the way. Then, without skipping a beat, smooches the moderate areolae with her lips.

"Yes, suckle it a little," you begin to caress your dick through your pants.

Vanessa focuses on her breast and sucking on it as you said. She treats it with the nonchalance of a normal partygoer amid an everyday conversation -- this is not real. It cannot be. But of course, it is. You are so mesmerized you don't even notice another person standing next to you.

"Hey John!" the voice paves through. "Hey Vanessa! Yo, Vanessa."

You turn to see the pretty tomboy Macie Garnett, in her shoulder-length brown hair with blonde highlights through the side, chirpily greeting the currently ridiculous-looking Vanessa, and feel your cock stir even harder at her lack of reaction to what she was doing.

"Ooh, look at you, ya nipple sucker!" Macie snickers mischievously as she gives you a quick wink.

After chuckling back, you clear your throat. Well, spoke too soon there, but nothing had changed. These people could react to what you engaged in. However they did, it just wouldn't by any means be normal responses, not after how you altered their ability to perceive events associated with you.

It was fascinating, and you were still suspicious of something being in the punch.

But there was always better ways to find answers to these kind of questions than waxing hypothetical.

"Yeah, that's Vanessa for you," you nudge back, coming back to reality and still hard at the sight of the young hispanic woman sucking on her left nipple. With a shake of the head, you focus. Then, looking at Marcie as she drinks out of her own cup, you endeavor, "Marcie?"

"What's up?"

"Could you take that drink and pour it down your shirt for me?"

Marcie takes one last sip, then removes the cup from her lips and exhales, smacking her mouth together. "Yeah, sure, whatever you say." Then she tugs the collar of her sleeveless, form-fitting tanktop forward, and tilts her cup down into it. The liquid instantly forms rivers down her shirt, appearing in darkened grey as the rest of it smothers her chest, boobs, and bra, before finally speeding down her belly and going waist-bound into her jeans. The effect is immediate.

The young woman shivers and laughs a bit. Giving her self a good shake she opens her eyes after a tight wince. "Daaaa-ha-ha-yum, th-that is c-c-cold!!" You just notice the ice blocks stuck in the broad's cleavage and squeeze your dick a little.

"Fitting for a hot chick like you, right?" you comment carelessly. Another cute laugh imparts from her.

"Friken John," Marcie rolls her eyes, landing a harmless punch against you. "I liked this shirt, too!"

"Oh please, you pro'lly nabbed that off a Goodwill or something."

Fabric clinging to her nicely sculpted body, you couldn't help but stare as the tomboy began earnestly, "Now I'll have you know, mister--"

"Marcie," you interrupt, breathing shaky, "actually, I was wondering. Maybe you could just take all of it off..? You know. Since you're already wet from head to toe, anyway, I think... well... I've always wanted to see your fit body naked. So."

"Jeez, John," Marcie scoffs showily, "10 points for subtlety." The sarcasm in Marcie's tone was apparent, even as she smirks at you while another guy suddenly walks over.

"Hey there ladies and germ," he greets, playfully riffing you as he gives the tit licking Vanessa a friendly nod which she tries to accommodate with a counterproductive smile. Nobody seems to notice. Or, they do, but once again... oh never mind. "So what's going on here? Other than Vanessa and her, you know."

"Hey Jeremy. Nothing much," Marcie waves cheerily before opening her mouth as if remembering something useful. "Oh, now that you're here, actually, do you think you could help me undress?" She spills it out as casually as the time of day. Jeremy, meanwhile, raises a clean brow.

"Undress? And why'd you want to do that, exactly?"

"Why do you think, choir boy?" she says with twinkling eyes, as if letting him in on a dastardly secret. "John's a perv and he wants to see me naked, from head to toe. He even called my body fit, the rogue. With a smooth talker like that how can a girl say no?"

The tall banker laughs, nods amicably, and begins working on her jeans, stating he got the picture. Meanwhile, slipping out of her top, Marcie hands it to you.

"Here, John," she says with a casual smile.

"Thanks," you reply as you grab it and give it a sniff. Marcie just looks on at your expression with the same smile from before. "Smells like... lemonade."

"Wow," the half-naked woman spits out as she unhooks her bra and steps one leg out of her right pant. "You should think of getting into CSI work or something."

"Can I put my face in your ass?" you blurt, not bothering with a comeback.

"Sure," Marcie, straight-faced and as unperturbed as ever, turns around, presenting her fair, tight buttocks to you. "Don't get too lost in there."

You, however, were already plunging your face into her buttcheeks, grabbing the flesh of her side buttocks with perverse attention as Jeremy courteously stood aside. He drew the last of the jeans out from under Marcie, keeping it over his arm.

It's funny to you that you found the need to ask her first, since technically, if your instructions from before were to be believed, you didn't need to ask anyone anything when it came to just manhandling them. But it still felt habitual. And here, it felt even hotter to see people bending to your will in a way that seemed familiar and ordinary, yet in a completely abnormal context.

You are the perverted one. You're the one that's tried to keep it under wraps over the years, hiding your lustful stares and late night fantasies of your friends and lady-friends, of them in numerous kinds of scenarios in unspeakable stages of clothing. Yet here, everyone was treating your newly expressed, secret perversions with absolute nonchalance, as proven with Vanessa completely deferring to your lewd advances and requests, and now Marcie letting the remainder of her drink in her shirt and eventually just taking it all off. Letting it all come to life. It was liberating, really.

When you emerge from Marcie's ass, you bring your hand back then let it fall down with a nice, hard smack.

Marcie cries out. Rubbing her butt with her hand, she looks back at you and laughs. "Well, at least your aim's on point... when it comes to a lady's ass."

You ignore her, instead turning to look around, Marcie's moans quick to acclimate to the background. Everyone in the party continues to behave as if nothing was absolutely shattering the status quo here. The game of pool, the card game right next to you at the table, the group of ladies laughing over a fret of pizzas, even what looks like the host of the night herself, Heather, at the foot of the stairs, giving you a quick smile and wave after checking in on another pair of partygoers by the bathroom door.

No scream, or widening eyes, or **** march in your direction. No generic shriek or move to call the authorities.

Did she not see the shirtless Vanessa? The naked, wet (literally) Marcie?

You bite your lip. No doubt about it. She certainly did. She, just like everybody else, simply didn't care.

When you turn back around, Marcie is chatting with Jeremy as well as another person whose name you forget at the moment. However, once again, nobody is saying a thing about her nakedness, or the lemonade drying upon the swell of her perky boobs. Just gabbing on, like this was a part-naturalism get-together. Which, maybe, it could be...

In any case, after admiring Marcie's slender, naked form for a bit, you turn back to Vanessa and command her to stop sucking her nipple. "Finally," the hispanic goes up for some air, saliva now slathered across the center of her soft, supple breast. It takes every nerve in you to not just slap it silly, and give it your own slice of attention.

"Alright Vanessa, now take off your bra."

"Okay okay," she begins to shrug off her pink cotton bra. It was already half-off, anyway. She eventually pulls it off her prominent chest, letting it fall to the floor with minimal fanfare. With Vanessa's tits out in all their glory, you take the time to stare at them with unadulterated appreciation.

That's the ticket.