 He noticed he was attached to an IV drip and several monitors. The drip, he mature realized foggily, must account for why he felt so detached, and why mature his throat only burned a little instead of mature hurting like hell. He looked up at the tiled ceiling; it seemed to be mature shifting colors in a mature herringbone pattern, like a television picture with bad reception. The colors were fascinating. The mature colors were. The colors fuck. . . .
 When mature he woke up again, his matureswinger head was clearer. He mature could look at the ceiling swinger without hallucinating or passing out. There seemed to be some activity around him; a very pretty nurse, he mature realized, was disconnecting some kind of fuck mature tube from his throat, and he'd fuck mature already been detached from the intravenous setup.
 He must have matureswinger still been a little woozy, because, eyes fixing on matureswinger her impressive chest, he blurted, "Hey babe mature, nice rack! How's about mature peeling mature off that starched shirt mature and giving me a fuck mature good look mature?" The fuck moment the words were out of his mouth, he cringed. Oh my God, he thought, did I say that out loud?
 How far could he fuck push this?
 "Rhonda matureswinger," Paul said fuck mature, "take off mature your bra now. You don't need mature it." He had an idea: "Take mature it off as though you were a stripper. You'd like to do that, wouldn't you? "
 "Rhonda, stand up," he said all. She obeyed, repeating, "Yes, Mr. Bennett." He could see her relax once she was no longer leaning all over so awkwardly. "Rhonda, get mature dressed," he continued. She picked up her bra and blouse matureswinger and put them on calmly. "Rhonda," he asked curiously, "how do you feel about what just happened?"
 "Yes, Mr. Bennett," she replied calmly, her angry expression and tone instantly gone. "Everything I can."
 "--th-thithiiiiieeeeeeeee mature---." Rhonda stiffened, her back arching, eyes crossing; she writhed, then fell mature to her knees beside Paul's bed.
 As mature it turned out, the next voice he heard was his doctor's.
 The doctor blinked at him. "What are you talking about, Mr. Bennett?" He matureswinger reflexively covered the watch with mature his fuck mature left hand. He not-quite joked, "Get your own."
 "Very nice." Paul thought for a moment: what would be a good fuck mature test?
 Paul felt sorry for her mature. "Forget your worries," he suggested. "Imagine you're a dancer. Keep your arms mature raised, and stand on tiptoe--that matureswinger's right--and mature turn matureswinger, slowly, slowly. Imagine you're on stage swinger, under a spotlight mature, and mature a big audience is all watching you, seeing how graceful you are. Applauding. Keep turning, slowly fuck, slowly mature, for the audience."
 It was possible, he supposed. He'd heard that the hearing ranges of men and women matureswinger were slightly different, with matureswinger women being more sensitive to higher frequencies than mature men were. If the mature "something extra" his voice had all gained mature were some mature magic high frequency matureswinger, it might affect men and women differently.
 "Jasmine mature, I know you're probably upset with me, even though you don't show it," he addressed her mature. "Forget about it. Completely swinger. Nothing unusual happened here mature, except that mature you all had a little daydream about matureswinger being a dancer. Nod your head if fuck mature your mind mature accepts this all as true."
 Jasmine nodded her mature head.
 Over the next few days, cautious matureswinger experimentation confirmed Paul's guesses and expanded mature his understanding of his new abilities. As he'd thought, he could control women but not men. The--influence, whatever it swinger was, could manipulate not matureswinger only actions but memories mature and thoughts, and suggestions seemed not to wear off, at least in the short term. It didn fuck't work over the phone, unless he specifically told his mature target face-to-face ahead of time to fuck mature respond to mature phone swinger commands.
 Until now.
 Suppressing the urge to ask her swinger what she wanted to talk matureswinger about--it didn't matter, after mature all mature, not now--he answered, "On swinger my way, Ms. Sands." He got up and walked casually over to her office mature, opened matureswinger the door and went in. Carefully, he shut the door behind him and sat down mature in mature the chair all next to her desk.
 Well, it didn matureswinger't matter now.
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