He closed his eyes teen, and the world went away for a while teen.
He tried to say something teenhitchhikeradel, but all that came out was a adel hoarse croak.
He must have still been a little woozy hitchhiker, because teen, eyes fixing on her impressive chest, he blurted, "Hey babe, nice rack. How's about peeling off that starched shirt and giving me a good look?" The moment the words were out teen of his mouth, he teenhitchhikeradel cringed teen. Oh my teen God site, he teenhitchhikeradel thought, did I say that out loud?
What happened adel next was teen totally unexpected. The gorgeous nurse stiffened teen, then, eyes widening, casually unbuttoned her blouse, and tossed it aside. Then she leaned forward over adel him and said, "Is this good enough, Mr. Bennett?"
"Rhonda," Paul said, "take off your teen bra teen now. You don't need it." He had hitchhiker an idea: "Take hitchhiker it off as though you were a teenhitchhikeradel stripper. You'd like teen to do teen that teenhitchhikeradel, wouldn't you? "
Rhonda shuddered, picturing herself trying to teenhitchhikeradel explain teenhitchhikeradel how just a few words from a patient had had her doing a strip act for him teen. She'd be lucky just to lose her job. "As for coming back here," Paul went on, "of course teen you will, if it's part of your normal duties. And you'll do everything you can to make sure it teen continues to be part of your duties teenhitchhikeradel, won't teen you?"
"We teen understand each teenhitchhikeradel other, then," Paul said.
"Dr. Steiner teen," he said forcefully teenhitchhikeradel, "give me your watch. You want me to have it teen."
"Hello, Mr. Bennett," the girl said. She was a petite, slender teenhitchhikeradel black girl, younger than Rhonda. She had a special voice teen of teen her own, low and husky.
"You can unclasp your teenhitchhikeradel hands and bring your arms down now, Jasmine," he told her.
Over the site next few days, cautious experimentation confirmed Paul's guesses and expanded his understanding teen of his new teen abilities. As he'd thought, he could control women but teen not men. The--influence, whatever it was, could manipulate not site only actions but teen memories and thoughts, and suggestions seemed not to wear off, at least in the short term. It didn teenhitchhikeradel't teen work over the phone, unless teen he specifically told his target face-to teenhitchhikeradel-face teen ahead of time to respond to phone commands.
The Hamilton Insurance Company teen was a medium-sized firm housed in teenhitchhikeradel a three-story brick building hitchhiker dating to the teen early 1950s. Paul Bennett, at forty, was a successful teen salesman for the company. In appearance, he was ordinary: medium height, medium build (just beginning to go to pot), medium complexion, plain brown hair beginning to recede at the temples. Despite his sales hitchhiker record, he had long since resigned himself to the hitchhiker likelihood that site he would advance no further in the company's teen ranks.
His teen immediate supervisor teen was a woman, Charlene Sands. Bennett had heard all the stories about how she'd slept her way to the top (or at least to middle teenhitchhikeradel management). He wasn't sure adel he believed them, but it was certainly teen possible site. She had the looks for it, tanned skin, a "killer bod" only teenhitchhikeradel somewhat concealed teenhitchhikeradel by the tailored business attire she wore, glossy black hair site, green eyes behind adel elegantly-framed teenhitchhikeradel glasses. She had the manipulative temperament for it, too.
Until teen now.
"Paul," she said, "I teen need to speak teen with hitchhiker you for a few minutes, if you don't mind."
Paul's teen heart sank. Could he teen really have--? Yes, he decided. He had already been sick when he adel'd landed the Cortez account teen. He remembered the day he and Mrs. Cortez had signed the papers; his throat had hurt so much, all he'd wanted was to teenhitchhikeradel get out of there. Yes, he could have made a mistake.
Eventually, they got up again. A disheveled Ms. Sands teenhitchhikeradel reassembled her clothing, as did Paul. The adel female executive's reading glasses had gotten smashed as the two teenhitchhikeradel of teen them had thrashed around together. She produced another teen pair from the top left drawer of her desk, and put them on.
"Of course not, Charlene," Paul teen responded. Charlene whimpered and trembled, and site as he turned to go, she almost called out for him to stay.
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