Part 9

I still had no idea how to approach experimenting with Bobby to learn more about his talent. The breakthrough we had was accidental.

It happened in the middle of the night after we’d been in our new home for almost a month. I woke up and felt a hand on my hip. I was up and off of my army surplus cot instantly, and was in combat mode.

But there was nobody there.

I felt it again ... a hand on my hip ... no, not a hand... Bobby’s hand. I don’t know why I knew it was Bobby’s hand, but I just felt it.

I went to his room, where he had elected to sleep on a mattress on the floor. He said it reminded him of his cell back at St. [redacted].

He was asleep. I felt his hand move up my side. It was crazy.

“Bobby!” I said, loudly.

The hand vanished as he lifted his head.

“Huh?” he asked, obviously groggy. “What’s wrong?”

“I think you were dreaming,” I said.

“What?” He sat up. It was warm and he hadn’t been covered by the sheet. He was naked, as usual. There was a towel lying on the floor next to the mattress. He had an erection.

“I think you were dreaming ... about me. Bobby, I could feel your dream.”

“Feel it?”

“I felt your hand on my side. Do you remember dreaming?”

“I have lots of dreams,” he said.

“Do you remember any about me?” I asked.

There was too much silence between the time I finished asking the question and his reply of, “No.”

I knew he was lying. But ... I also knew how difficult it would be for a boy - he was suddenly a boy again - to admit to a woman that he had dreams about her - erotic dreams, based on how his hand had felt. Again, there was very little evidence, but it had been a caress, not just his hand accidentally resting on my side. I decided to go the middle road.

“Well, it was interesting,” I said. “I’m sure it was you. I’m not surprised you don’t remember. I read somewhere that we don’t remember most of what we dream about. Anyway, what I felt was your hand, touching me here.”

I put my hand on my hip, where the T shirt I was wearing covered it. I knew he could almost see my panties, and now that I think about it I’m sure he could see them, sitting almost on the floor, like he was.

“Then I felt it move up, like this.” I demonstrated. “It was on my skin, though, not on the outside of my shirt.”

His hand surreptitiously moved to cover his manhood. It was clear he had just realized he was hard. Just the thought of sliding his hand along my skin had made him aware of his own state. I felt my nipples perk up.

I was faced with a problem. I was sure it had been Bobby’s mind that had intruded on my sleep. This was completely new, but I knew his powers had grown. We’d been kept in cells a hundred feet apart, in the mountain. Now we were ten feet apart. Was that reduction in distance responsible for the fact that I could now feel him dreaming? Agent [redacted] had asked about his dreams and said that people near him while he was sleeping felt “off” at night. Had his dreams intruded on them?

I had suggested it was in their minds, but knew this was a real phenomenon, now, and that meant it would happen again. And if he dreamed about someone else, and the same thing happened to them that had happened to me, it might drive them into therapy. This was something we could work on. Finally, I had a handle on something we could try to control.

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