You surely didn't see your mother playing with herself like a wanton s.l.u.t.

No, because that would be wrong – very wrong.

h.e.l.l, she didn't even lock the door. You and your mother aren't the only person in the household!

At least now she will lock the door. The horrifying looks on her face when you grab the screenplay and run out the room will burn itself into her mind.

You eventually slow down and drive like a sane person. You didn't want to get pull over while packing a raging b.o.n.e.r. Unfortunately, the world decide you have a free pa.s.s for far too long.

Siren blazes behind you. You let out a sigh and turn towards the sideroad. Once you stop your car, you wait for the cop to exit his. He approaches your vehicle slowly. One hand is on his firearm, readying to use.

You become a bit alarmed, but you realize that you're not black. The chance of getting shot and killed over a speeding ticket in this day and age for a black person is high.

Once the cop has a good look at you, he becomes relax. He probably isn't a racist and is just being very careful. He is alone after all.

"Sir, do you know how fast you were traveling?"

"I have no idea, officer," you reply.

The cop tells you exactly how fast you were speeding and asks you to step out of the vehicle – slowly.

You did as the police officer have asked. A look of bewilderment appears over his face when he notices the stiff tent in your pant.

"Sir, are you on drug?"

"No, I'm just really, really h.o.r.n.y, and I need to get somewhere fast," you answer nonchalantly and left it at that.

The cop gives you a strange look. He is thinking that you are looking for a prost.i.tute. "It is my duty to inform you that is unlawful."

You raise an eyebrow at the warning and make nothing of it. After a few tests to see if you are drunk or on drug or both, you net yourself a fine and then, you are on your way.

Once the cop is gone, you have some time to think to yourself. Your ability can arouse a person! Even your calm and collected mother becomes a s.l.u.t, who couldn't help herself.

Holy s.h.i.+t, must all your abilities have a perverted side?

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"You're no help," you call out and slams your hands on the steering wheels. You needed to calm down and fast. You need a distraction.

You pick up the screenplay and have another read. The screenplay is very, very good, and you could only imagine how the audiences and critics will react.

Once your mind is clear of all distractions, you think about how to get the funding for your movies. 15 million is a lot of money to you, but not to a lot of people in Hollywood.

As a native of Los Angeles, your family has some connection with Hollywood which you could use to your advantage. Your mother –

You took a moment to clear those images out of your mind.

Your MILF of a mother is very familiar with movie studios and film productions. She has worked with them on numerous occasions. You could use her to get a head – to get ahead of others in the game.

What are you thinking!?

Anyway, when a scriptwriter writes a screenplay that he believes is good, he has two choices to bring his script to the big screen.

One, like any aspiring and independent director, you can go to an influential producer or a brokerage company, such as the CAA. There, you can sell your ideas. If the idea is good enough, the investor will recommend the project to a production company. Once it pa.s.ses a more rigorous reviews and makes necessary adjustments for investments, the film production will be on its way.

Or –

You could go directly to the relevant departments of a film production company and deliver the script, and through the screening and evaluation of the film company, your screenplay will be accepted or rejected. This is the most simple and direct way.

Although you knew several producers, they did not know you in person. They might have heard about you from your mother, but that didn't amount to anything. There is one person you could count on – George Lucas. He is a friend of your mother, but then again, he isn't your friend.

Weighting the pros and cons, you decide to try the second option first – right after lunch.

There is a restaurant nearby, so you head there. A cute waitress comes and takes your order after you found a sit and have a look at the menu.

"I will just have whatever on special today," you give the order after finding nothing stand out on the menu.

"Okay… " she replies unsurely and attends the adjacent table. You watch her go before narrowing your eyes, having a good look at her attributes and skillsets. The cute uniform she has on slowly faded away. Her shapely figure fills your vision.

You have gotten so use to the vision that you could turn it on and off at will.

As for your new ability to boost anyone's skill, you have practice it exactly one time. You believe that you should practice it more – but you didn't want to turn everyone into a h.o.r.n.y mess.

"Say, System. How long do I have left to live?"

[1964163910 seconds]

Since you didn't have a calculator, you use a napkin and pen to calculate. It took a while as your math skills isn't good.

"What's that? 62 years?" the girl ask when she brought your food. Where she is standing, her private part is right in your face.

"That's how long I will live," you respond. "62 years and 3 months."

You realize that you spend about 4 hours of your life to boost your mother's immersion skill from D to S+ rank. It is about 15 minutes durations – just enough time for her to read your screenplay.

She laughs. "Are you some sort of fortune teller?"

"You could say that. Want me to tell you your fortune?" You ask.

She humors you and shows you her palm. You take hold of her palm and let your lifeforce seeps into her body. You improve her Communication Skill as you found she lacks in that area. You only increase it to B-Rank from her original D-Rank. You have it temporary boosted for 10 minutes.

There a faint gasp coming out of her lips.

You panic a little and slowed the transfer, and the expression on her face returns to normal. From that alone, you realize the rate of transfer affects the person' mental state.

"I think you will feel you are a lot more confidence with your job now," you tell her before digging into your special lunch – an omelet with bacons.

She shrugs and continues her work. Within 5 minutes, you could see great improvement in her skills at taking orders and relaying orders. She becomes so adept that even her boss found it bizarre.

However, the effect disappears after 10 minutes. She becomes clumsy immediately afterwards.

"What did you do?" she asks you when you pay for the food.

You realize this could be a problem, as your powers will undoubtedly brings unwanted attention to yourself. "I just give a pretty lady a bit of confidence."

She giggles. She is incredibly cute when she does.

"If you want another dose of confidence, come with me."