Chapter 4

The patent office should recognize the difference between 'thinking' shit up and 'inventing' shit. I could think up a faster than light engine that runs on bobbyleguk but so fucking what! It's why Abby slept quite peacefully while I spent six hours building a mental filter, which resembled a spider web more than a coffee filter.

I called a stop to the night when Adriana's buzzing mind sounded like one wasp instead of a hive camping between my ears. Lisa had passed out by that point. Ignoring the hints Adriana was giving about the benefits of being her pimp, I took a shower before going to sleep.

A Sunday brunch and dinner shift meant families; kids would be a good opportunity to further refine the filter. I was also very interested in my ability to make people do things. With so many people going through the restaurants, I could test small commands safely.

"You really are looking much better, Simon," Amanda said.

I wished I could say the same for her. She appeared more stressed than the day before.

"You don't look okay," I told her. We were in the downstairs dining room of Emilie's. Someone insisted on reserving the entire room, even if they didn't have the people to fill it. Amanda would be the waitress with me as her busboy. Not a good tip day, but a quiet one unless the brunchers were assholes.

I had finished setting up the tables. Amanda was done wiping the glasses.

Staring into her eyes, I thought at her. "Tell me what's wrong, Amanda."

"I'm fucking stressed out of my mind," Amanda said.

"I've never seen you like this," I said. "Is it that bad at school? Or money?"

"I do dinners during the week here and weekend brunches," she told me. "The money is fine. I use Saturday and Sunday night to catch up on my projects and school reading. It's everything, Simon!"

"You've been doing it for years, Amanda."

"I know," she said. "I haven't been able to let it go this week though."

"You need to de-stress."

"I can't," she replied. "I used to be able to; I can't anymore."

"Why not?"

"I'm not having sex."

I started out trying to find out what was wrong with one of my favorite waitresses. I wanted to test my powers, but I did mean to help her. I had in no way expected sex to come up!

"What does sex have to do with it?"

She pushed me at my shoulder. "You must not be doing it right."

"Or at all," I said. "Well ... not much anyway."

"You, dog!" She smiled, pushing me again. "Since last week, I haven't had any to help me chill out. I usually call up one of my friends if I go too long without or pick up a guy if I'm desperate."

"Why haven't you?"

She looked confused for a second.

"Why haven't you had sex if it helps you control the stress, Amanda?"

"I haven't thought about it," she told me.

"You haven't thought about sex. Since when?" I asked.

"Two Fridays ago," she replied.

The day that I got sick. The girls said something about no johns. What the fuck was going on?

"If this goes on for much longer, I'm going to have issues," Amanda said. "It got so bad my sophomore year of college that I had to get medication for insomnia."

"De-stress with me."

When something has to be spoken, there's time for the speaker to catch the thought before it becomes words spewing out of his mouth. There's no grace period for a telepath. The thought was a command in her mind before I realized the thought was even in my mind! I might have been able to save it if Amanda's version of sex when she needed to bring down her stress levels wasn't so direct.

"You can help me," she said. Her hand found my dick, cupped it through my pants, and took a grip. "After all, we should reward your hard work to lose the weight."

She pulled me by my hardening dick into the linen closet beside the ladies' bathroom. Letting me go long enough to straighten a chair, she pushed me down on it.

"I have to tell you that felt pretty big," she said, kneeling between my legs. "Have you been hiding a beautiful cock from me? I could have used you in my rotation."

Amanda undid my belt and pants. I lifted my hips to give her space to pull down the pants. She took the underwear down too.

"Oh God! You could have been my whole rotation!" Her hand stood my dick straight up.

She looked up at me. "I'm sorry! I was going to suck it, but..."

Amanda's breathing was ragged. She stood up and undid her pants. Her movements to push her pants and panties down her legs were desperate. I reached out to grab her naked hips. She spread her legs and straddled me. I looked up at Amanda. Her breathing had gotten more labored. Amanda's hand reached down to line me up.

"No!" she complained when her pussy refused me entry.

"It's okay! Slowly!"

She rose up, placed me more carefully, and lowered her hips slowly. Her body opened, taking in the head of my dick. She moved her hips up and down, fucking the head of my dick in and out of her pussy. I traced her hips and thighs with my hands to encourage her efforts. Amanda squeezed the head of my dick with her pussy, released her muscles, and settled lower. I made her take more than her body was ready for by lifting up with my hips. She followed me down when my hips dropped.

"Yes!" she hissed, going back to the shallow fucking motions.

It probably didn't take as long as I thought it did. Finally though, it was too much! I took a firmer grip on Amanda's hips. She pushed down hard, taking me deep. I reached around, grabbed her asscheeks, spread them, lifted Amanda up, and pulled her down hard at the same time that I thrust up.