Chapter 6: The Second Gift

I awoke sometime later to a wet feeling on my chest. I was still holding her in the same position. I lay still and tried to figure out what was wrong. She made a little sniffing noise.

"You're crying," I said, making her jump a little. "What's wrong?"

She sniffed, but kept her head down, pressed against me. "Nothing."

"Why are you crying?"

"I'm not going to tell you."

Well, this was a new wrinkle. I thought a few minutes, listening to her little sniffing noises. "I want you to do something for me. Will you?"

She looked up me, tears glistening in her eyes. "What?"

I gently put my hand on her head and forced it back down to my chest, where she'd had it before. "Tell me what you hear," I ordered.

She paused a few moments. "Noth-..." She listened some more. "Your heart. I hear your heart."

"Very good," I told her. "And now, with every beat of my heart, I want you to relax. Relax more and more with every beat you hear. More and more relaxed."

"You're hypnotizing me with your heart," she said quietly.

"Just listen, and do as I say," I told her. She listened for twenty of thirty seconds, her body slumping over me, feeling heavy. At last I told her to look up into my eyes. She sighed and complied at once.

"Now," I said sternly, "tell me why you're crying."

"I didn't know it would be like this," she said, the tears welling up again.

"Didn't know WHAT would be like this?"

"Love." She let the word hang for a moment. "There, see? I did it! I used the "L" word! I thought it would be all happy and like two lovers running toward each other in a field of daisies; but it's really all uncertain and I don't know if tomorrow you'll want me to stay or to go, and now I've used the "L" word, and I'll lose you for sure!" She collapsed back onto me and sobbed a few times.

Women! My respect for George Bernard Shaw was growing by leaps and bounds. "Let me guess," I said sardonically. "You're quoting your roommate again, aren't you?" She looked back up at me, eyes full of tears. "Did it ever occur to you that that roommate of yours is just an empty-headed bimbo?" I continued harshly. She blinked, trying to read between the lines of my little tirade.

"Okay, here's the plan," I continued matter-of-factly. "Tomorrow morning, we're going to wake up and make love again. Then, we're going to clean up, I'll make breakfast, and you are going to pack us a picnic lunch. We're going to go to the park and study for a few hours, eat, and then I'm going to hypnotize you again, because I really, really like doing that. It's a power trip, and it gives me a rush. Then we'll figure out something for dinner, and if you're still in love with me, you can stay and we'll make plans for the next day. Understand?" I waited, and she finally gave me a teary, sheepish grin and nodded.

"And now," I told her, gently pushing her head back down to my chest, "I want you to listen to my heart, and with every beat, you are going to relax more and more."

In two minutes, she was asleep.

The digital clock read 8:35 when I was awakened from an erotic dream. It wasn't all a dream, I learned, as I looked down and realized that I was having my cocked sucked in a most pleasant manner. I stretched and muttered a groggy "Good morning," but she must have figured it was impolite to answer with her mouth full.

Once again, I decided to deny her the satisfaction of culminating the session orally, and forced her to lie back down beside me while I became reacquainted with HER body, as well. Just as it had been last night, she was soon in a very distracted state of mind, gripping my head as I suckled her breasts, her hips arching up against my hand and invading fingers. I paused long enough to clump our pillows together in the middle of the bed and ordered her on her knees, bent over against the pillows, while I positioned myself behind her. I fed my swollen cock into her cunt slowly as she groaned and writhed and eventually pushed back against me. Almost as soon as I was fully buried in her, she started making her "coming noises" and I was forced to hold her hips firmly to maintain control. Her cunt gripped me spasmodically, and I fought to stave off my own orgasm for awhile longer. Eventually, she stopped bucking, but as I set up a rhythm, she continued to spasm from time to time, and finally I simple couldn't take it any longer. I leaned forward and grasped her left breast hard while using my right hand on her clit, forcing her to come with me. I swear I could feel her cunt sucking me. I don't think I've ever come so hard.

We collapsed in a heap in the center of the bed and just held each other until our breathing returned to normal. "I didn't even know you could DO it like that," she said in a quiet, husky voice. "I couldn't even move! I felt so... so... helpless. I felt... used." I was thinking about this, trying to come up with some sort of apology, when she shivered a little and sighed loudly. "It was... wonderful!"

Then I decided it was time to get up and get on with our day. In the bathroom, I found a new, wrapped toothbrush for her. Showering together was more of a challenge than I had anticipated. I really enjoyed soaping her supple young body, but every time I caressed her, she seemed to lose all semblance of concentration and began a gradual transition to full arousal. There was no way I would be able to perform again so soon after our intense morning exercises, so I left her to finish rinsing herself and started getting dressed.

She asked if she could wear one of my shirts while she used my washing machine to clean the clothes she'd worn the day before, and I told her to go into my closet and pick one. She was overjoyed by this prospect, and chose one of my dress shirts, rolling up the sleeves to her elbows. The shirttail covered her, but barely, and her legs were displayed to perfection. She was quite a sight, even in the large glasses, which she had retrieved from her purse, but I couldn't help but notice as I finished preparing the coffee and oatmeal that as she came in and sat down at the kitchen table she was moving a bit oddly.

"Are you okay?" I asked, concerned.

She blushed beautifully. "I'm a little sore," she said meekly. "You don't realize how... how... big you are."

This was yet another new wrinkle. I hadn't said anything about soreness in my hypnotic induction. Was it possible I really WAS too big for her? Suddenly, I wasn't sure where the line between fantasy and reality was myself. "I'm sorry I hurt you," I said sincerely.

"Oh, no, I like it!" she blurted, then looked down and blushed even more. "I mean, it reminds me of... what happened. I can't move without thinking about it. It doesn't hurt too much, and I think it's... kind of nice."

I opened the kitchen door to let in the warm spring morning air, then set the bowls of oatmeal on the table.

"Eat up," I told her. "My Saturday routine always includes a study session in the park, weather permitting. I have a lot to do."

"Not me," she announced, and when I looked up questioningly, she said: "I'm a graduating senior. I don't have to take finals next week. I'm free!"

"Oh no you're not," I told her sternly, and snatched a yellow legal pad off the counter and tossed it to her. It contained my notes from the interview with the Indian lady yesterday. I quickly summarized the story for her. "It's yours," I told her. "You write it, I'll edit it. I'll show you how to sell it to a major, and we'll split the by-line and the fee." She acted as if I'd given her a pot of gold. She was immensely excited, and started asking dozens of questions, all of them intelligent and pertinent. She wanted a follow-up interview and some time to do some research on-line.

And then in mid-sentence, she froze. She was looking past me, toward the screen door, and she had such a look of absolute horror on her face that I had a pretty good idea what I was going to see even before I turned around and looked for myself.

Re-enter the antagonist, stage right.

He was standing at the screen door, looking in and smiling broadly. "Good morning, Professor!" he said cheerily, then glanced at my dining companion and nodded. "Good morning, Brenda."

"What do you want, Menlo?" I asked icily, keeping my seat.

"I have another little gift for you, Professor. A peace offering. Do you mind if I come in?"

"I'm not a professor," I told him flatly.

He shrugged. "Semantics! You get your PhD in two weeks, and in three, you'll be an esteemed member of the faculty of this prestigious university."

I regarded him curiously. "Who have you been talking to?"

"You should have come to my show last night," he said expansively. "I do believe it was one of my best performances ever! I had the audience eating out of my hand. One of the highlights was when I entranced a lovely lady by the name of Wanda Wilkinson."

I tried to suppress a grin and failed. "You hypnotized Dean Wilkinson?"

"Yes, an excellent subject. I persuaded her, and her husband, as well, to come backstage after the performance, and we all had a little chat." He paused for effect. "Why, did you know that the Dean is prepared to pay you ten thousand dollars a year over and above what she is now offering in the contract you're about to sign?"

I regarded him even more suspiciously. "What did you do to her?"

He crossed his heart with his fingers. "Not a thing, I assure you. Well... I DID make a couple small suggestions about her sex life (her husband was a very good subject, as well). I think they'll both be more, shall we say, contented with their home life in the future. But as far as your salary is concerned, that was just something I happened to learn. It's already in her budget. She's hoping you won't ask for it. She's planning to use it for a new desk and drapes in her office; but she's willing to pay if you demand it. There's a rumor that a college downstate has already made you an offer."

Well, that was true. "The bitch!" I said under my breath.

"Truce?" asked Menlo.

I turned and looked at Brenda. She was watching him the way a mouse watches a snake.

"Okay," I said. "Come in and tell us what's on your mind."

He opened the door, smiled broadly, and took a seat to my right, opposite Brenda. "I really just stopped by to give you another little gift," he said happily. He fished around in his jacket pocket for a moment, and came out holding something in his closed fist. He held the fist out, over the table for a long moment, letting the suspense build dramatically, then opened his hand and let the small gold pocket watch fall. He retained the end of the gold chain in his fingers, and when the watch fell to within a few inches of the table top, it bounced and swung crazily on the chain.

To my left, Brenda gave a sudden gasp, and I turned and watched her in awe. Her eyes were wide and fixed on the watch as it danced on its chain. Slowly, she turned her head almost 90-degrees to the right, then back to the left, but her eyes wouldn't, or couldn't, leave the small golden timepiece. Finally, she faced straight ahead, but her head jerked slowly from side to side in a negative gesture. Her lips were parted slightly, and they formed the word "no," but no sound came out. She was definitely frightened.