Beneath the attitude, she's really hot - maybe you'd like to get a look beneath the uniform...

You hit the stewardess call button just to be difficult - it would be child's play to call her to you by thought alone, but better to savor the moment.

"What do you want?" she says with a sneer.

You look up at her and smile. "Hi," you say. "I couldn't help but notice that you're being kind of rude and unpleasant. Now, don't you think it would be better for all concerned if you tried to be a little more courteous?"

"Look lady," she says. "I do my job, I show you how to get out if this plane goes belly-up, I pass out the little peanuts, I deal with dirty old men hitting on me because they want to join the mile-high club. You'd get a little peeved after a while too."

"I might," you say. "But I wouldn't take it out on people who don't deserve it."

"Says you."

While you talk, you're searching her mind for an angle to use. It doesn't take long to find one - it turns out that this poor little thing hasn't had any kind of sex for almost a year. After finding her boyfriend fucking one of her co-workers during a flight she was put on at the last minute, she's been unable to trust any men. Fortunately, you have a solution for her, one that simply requires lowering a few inhibitions…

Turning your mind toward the other passengers in first class, you arrange so that they suddenly want to switch into coach seats. You find it's a simple matter to further see to it that no one has any desire to enter the first class compartment, nor will they pay attention to anything they hear. Your stewardess doesn't notice that the two of you are suddenly alone.

"Do you want to talk about it"" you ask her.

"I'm busy," she says, without much conviction.

"Come on," you say, patting the seat next to you. "Take a load off. You've got time."

She sits down gingerly, as if still uncertain. You're not turning your full power on her yet, preferring to see how far she's willing to go with just a minimal touch.

"What's your name?" you ask.

"Fawne."

"What if I told you I knew how you could be happy again, Fawne?"

"It's… been a long time since I felt happy about anything." She takes off her cap and reclines a bit on the soft, comfortable seat. Her hair is reddish blonde, cut short with longer bangs.

"It's about a guy, right"" you ask.

"How'd you know?" she says, surprised.

"Men are scum."

"You got that right."

"We don't need them, you know."

She sighs. "Yeah, but there's an awful lot you miss after you come to that conclusion."

"Like what?" you ask.

"Do I have to spell it out for you? Like SEX, of course. Banging, screwing, doing the horizontal bop, making the beast with two backs, bumping uglies, hiding the salami, making whoopee, Dick and Jane, FUCKING."

"You don't need a man for that," you reassure her.

"No, just batteries," she acknowledges. "But that gets old after a while. Sometimes you just need someone else to scratch your back."

"Fawne," you say, "there is another way."

"Like what?" she asks.

In answer, you reach out and turn her face toward you. She hadn't realized you were drawing closer and closer, and that your lips were only inches away. "You can make love to a woman," you say matter-of-factly.

"What?" she exclaims, startled. She starts to pull away, but an unspoken suggestion from you keeps her from doing so.

"You need this," you whisper. "You need to feel loved by someone. Should it matter that I'm a woman? Isn't a soft, tender, loving touch exactly what you want most right now?"

"I… I… I don't know…"

You lean forward and softly kiss her lips, feeling her tense for a moment, then relax. A rush of pleasure runs through her body, some influenced by you directly, but mostly from Fawne herself. You were right, this was just what she needed.

Pulling away for a moment, you stare deeply into her eyes. "Tell me this if this is what you want," you say to her.

In the end, she has no real choice, but it still excites you the hear her say, "I want you. Please make love to me."