Jack left his apartment, with more swagger than even he expected. After this morning's events he felt not just drunk with power, but more like coked up and blissed out on power.
Walking down his front flight of stairs, the morning sunlight blasting that East facing side of the building, he snapped. Not openly, not even visibly. Possibly not even noticed by himself. But Jack shifted somehow in his mind, letting go of inhibition in a way only drugs or death may allow a human to perceive. A word like unhinged might sound scary, but if unhinged knew how to fuck, then that is what Jack became.
Jack began to meander throughout his neighborhood. So far, he hadn't crossed any women, a few dudes doing house work with trucks and a family, but only a dad and kids. Jack was looking for a suitable first mate. He used the term playfully, as he wanted to fuck her (like mating) but also had other plans.
Jack wanted a second person to explore this with. He wanted a first mate on this voyage of depravity. He knew, even in his heart of hearts, that perhaps he needed a second opinion to help him navigate his morals. And he wanted to find her today.
There was a hostess, a fine young woman, probably later twenties but you wouldn't be surprised to find she's over 30, standing at a local eatery. Jack had been there a number of times, it's down his block and had an awesome raw bar. That hostess greeted him many a time as well, and she was very hot. She was a petite brunette, freckled, probably Irish-roots, with her long hair almost always tied back into a long ponytail which swished with body in the hair. She was slim but not skinny, boobs hanging but possibly because she wore no bra outside of work. While sitting at the bar, Jack had seen her ass in passing (he historically never ogled service workers), but the view was presented by mistake as she bent over in front of him for a pen one time, for which they shared an awkward exchange and apology.
And now Jack was unhinged. He saw her standing there, they made eye contact and she smiled in recognition at him. He smiled back, and with that smile also sent her a flashing image of her worshiping his 10' cock during a sloppy blowjob which she was absolutely loving. He sent this just like a flicker, a passing thought as she considered the man she had seen before... He was cute for sure, he might be a bit cuter now though. Something about that smile... she just got surprisingly turned on. Right there at work too, nobody knew how wet she had just gotten.
She may have blushed, Jack couldn't see from this distance, but he continued to approach her. He was about 20 meters away and in that time he began working some magic. He didn't over-work her at all, he wanted things to go naturally. But he did do some experimental biological transfiguration. In his mind, while Jack's body kept walking and smiling toward the hostess, his inner mind sunk into her essence across the distance and like a metaphysical mechanic, went to work.
He first began with her tits, both perfectly sized handfuls, he spruced up the nerve endings just so that she wouldn't notice until her nipple was brushed--immediately adding an intensely sensitive tingle down her spine and directly to her pussy.
Navigating her inner workings, metaphysically, he also ramped up her libido. Not to an unhealthy degree, she had to work and eat and walk. But she appreciated a good cum like the rest of us. And now could do it more than once, actually quite a few times in a row if she was getting hit just right.
And lastly, her pussy. What Jack imagined was a beautiful cunt. He spent his final moments of metaphysical exploration ensuring her pussy lips were shaved to a tasteful groom, and that she was a massive squirter. Jack obviously didn't know if she had been before, but as of now, she is a squirt queen, and definitely knows it. A few stock filler-memories of warning guys and extra laundry after sex have her convinced she is a squirty girl. But now from her perspective, since this is a normality to her, it's not on her mind. Only on Jack's mind. Finally, his metaphysical self rejoins his still walking body and he approaches the hostess stand.
"Hey there, how's it going?" Jack speaks first upon approaching.
"I'm good, and you? You coming in tonight? If you get in right now..." she cranes her neck to peer down the bar for a seat, "you might still be able to get in on the oyster happy hour."
In peering behind herself, Jack took the opportunity to look at her tits, pushed out slightly with the action.
"No no, it's fine." Jack replied. "I actually was planning on coming in later... with a date. Is there space for two tonight?"
At first she did seem a little shocked but honestly he was just an unnamed patron who was cute sometimes. She shrugged it off. "Let's see... we have two spots actually for around 8:30 or later, is that ok?"
"absolutely! Let's say 8:30pm just so we have some time if folks are running late."
"You mean if she is running late?" she smirked at Jack, "I see you're walking up the road from your place. You won't be late." She again smiled at him with a strange level of boldness given he just mentioned he was going on a date.
