The Coffee Shop Pt. 04

"You had a good time, then?" I asked him.

"No. I had a fantastic time, and you darn well know it!" Bernie said with a laugh. "I haven't cum like that in months. It's a great way to relieve stress, you know."

"No complaints, then?" I inquired with a wink and a smile.

"None, whatsoever," Bernie answered. "You managed to take me deeper than ever before, I think. Certainly this is the first time that I've ever called you 'master'. It was a new experience. Kind of pleasant actually."

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself, Bernie. I had a good time. You have a really nice ass, you know. I enjoyed fondling it this afternoon," I told him plainly. "Would you like to go back under for a while longer?" I asked him.

"Yes, but I don't have the time," Bernie answered with a touch of regret in his voice, after he looked at his wrist watch. "I have to head off to the hospital. I have just enough time to get home, change and shower, before my shift starts." Bernie walked over to the dinning room chairs and started putting on his vest and his suit jacket. "I might just as well wear this suit home. I can get changed at home and save a little time."

I watched him get dressed, marvelling at how good he looked in that suit of his. Bernie had the vest on and buttoned up in less than a minute. He slipped on the suit jacket, turned to the dinning room mirror and checked that everything was in place.

"How do I look?" He asked with a smile.

"Great, as always," I answered him. "In fact you look good enough to hypnotize right now." I said with a wink of my eye.

"Oh, no, nothing doing. I don't have any more time to play," Bernie said with a shake of his head. "No more pickles in cowboy boots for me today."

"Party pooper," I said with a pout.

"Sorry about that. Maybe this will make you feel better," Bernie said as he walked over to stand in front of me. He reached back and drew his wallet out of the right back pocket of his suit pants. He opened his wallet and started thumbing through the various bills inside. He muttered something to himself but I could not make out the words. "There that ought to do it," he said a few seconds later as he plucked several bills from this wallet and thrust them out towards me.

"Bernie, I can't take money for your session," I said to him as I tried to decline the proffered bills.

"Sure you can," he said surprised at my reaction. "I think your time and the effort you put out this afternoon are worth something. I know I got a lot out of this session, short as it was. I think you should get something out of it too." Bernie looked at me for a moment before he continued speaking. "You wouldn't want to hurt my feelings by refusing to let me pay you, would you?"

"Well, when you put it like that I guess I can't really say 'no'," I admitted reluctantly. "Just remember that I never asked for this or even suggested anything along the line of payment for my services, Bernie."

"Yes, this is completely my idea," Bernie confirmed. "I don't think you really understand just how much importance I place on these sessions with you. I thought that paying you might show you just how much I value your time and the effort you are putting out for me. Please, Paul, take the money."

"Oh, okay," I said with a trace of hesitation, as I took the bills from Bernie's outstretched hand. "I suppose I could put it towards a new pair of cowboy boots or something."

"Great!" Bernie said as he saw me take and pocket the money. "Well, just let me grab my stuff from the spare bedroom and I'll be off." Without another word, Bernie turned and headed down the hallway to the spare bedroom. A few minutes later he returned carrying his duffel bag in his left hand. Bernie headed for the front hall closet and retrieved his overcoat. Smiling and waving at me he turned to the front door. "Bye, Paul! Thanks again!" He called out as he opened the front door left my apartment. Moments later he walked through the threshold and pulled the front door closed behind him.

"Good bye, Bernie. You're welcome," I said to the now empty and silent room. I stood there staring at the closed front door trying to figure out what it was that I was feeling. I didn't feel empty or cheap, or used. I felt strangely fulfilled and content. Most super hypnosis sessions left me feeling like I had done something good for the subject, but this was a bit different. I felt as if I had been helped as much as Bernie. For some as of yet undefined reason, I was able to bear the pain of my continued and forced separate from Andy a bit easier now. I'm not sure how Bernie helped with that, but somehow he had.

I suddenly realized that I had not taken a close look a the money that Bernie had given me. Imagine my surprise when I took out the bills and counted them. There were five bills. Five one hundred dollar bills. Slowly I folded the bills and stuffed them back into the front right pocket of my jeans. I sat down and turned my attention to my cup of lukewarm coffee. I didn't know what I was going to spend the money on, but I would think of something.



Chapter 12. On A Silver Platter.

You never know what fate has in store for you. The best that you can do is to roll with the punches that life sends your way. I had expected to spend a quiet evening alone with Andy. Just the two of us, sitting in front of the fireplace, with a bottle of chilled wine, some cheese and some crackers. (Romantic, no?) It was not to be. As they say, the best laid plans of mice and men. (I know, knock it off with the clichés and get back to the story.)

My cowboy hat was retired to the closet for the evening, as were my cowboy boots. Covering my legs and lower torso was a pair of worn light brown jeans, without any belt in them. These jeans were just a tad on the snug side, so I didn't need to wear a belt with them. A light brown plaid cowboy shirt, a bit on the loose side was tucked into those jeans. The shirt buttons were done up, except for the shirt collar button. As I sat there on the sofa with my legs stretched out and up on the coffee table, I snuggled up next to Andy. I wasn't cold, I just wanted to snuggle, which was a good enough reason for both of us. I looked down at my dark brown, sock covered feet, and sighed with contentment. If I had been a cat, I would have purred. (Hey, if YOU had been snuggled up on a sofa with a major league stud muffin like Andy, you'd be content too!)

Andy was wearing an off white loosely fitting long sleeved casual shirt, with a pair of faded dark blue jeans. The jeans were a bit on the snug side, and thus Andy was not wearing a belt in them. A pair of dark green wool socks covered Andy's feet. Dressed as such, Andy presented a most intriguing sight. One which I was anxious to explore, if you follow me.

I suppose that it was about 7 P.M. when my doorbell rang. I was not expecting guests and frankly I was not at all in the mood to deal with guests. Andy glanced at my face after the first ring of the bell. He could easily read my mood. This was the first evening that we had managed to arrange together since Andy had been discharged from the hospital. I suppose that was why my mood had turned foul when I heard the first ring of the doorbell. The doorbell had wrecked the romantic atmosphere of the evening, an evening that I had been looking forward to for weeks. (Hey, even Andy needed a few weeks to heal and get back to his routine before we got together for a 'romantic' evening. Andy's an RCMP constable, not Superman, after all.)

"I'll get it, Texas," he told me as he stood up. "You look like you're about ready to kill whomever it is that is unlucky enough to be on the other side of that door." Andy smiled a lopsided grin at me to take any sting out of his words.

I nodded my head in silent agreement, and cast out my mental scanners towards the door. Most of my attention was focused on watching Andy's beautiful bubble butt in those snug fitting jeans of his, as Andy walked over to the door and peered out the peephole. A small part of my attention was focused on trying to pick up any sense of danger or trouble from the person on the other side of the door. In the past few months I had learned to trust my instincts when it came to my mental powers warning me of trouble. It wasn't always easy though. I could usually feel those with the gift, who had less than friendly intentions towards me, but only at close range. In order to detect a gifted person from outside of my immediate area, I had to concentrate and project my scanners outward. The more power and effort I put into the projection, the greater my range and sensitivity. I didn't read gifted people's thoughts exactly, since their minds were usually shielded in some way. What I picked up was a resonance of my power reacting to the presence of theirs. It is best liken to having two tuning forks each set to vibrate at the same specific frequency. If you place the forks near enough to each other and strike one of them, the other fork with start to vibrate as it resonates to the sound waves produced by the first tuning fork.

Detecting non-gifted (normal) people who had aggressive or hostile intent towards me was much easier, and required much less power and effort on my part. Right now though, I was able to concentrate my scans on one specific area, the area in front of the door. This required much less power and effort to scan, as opposed to a full three hundred and sixty degree half sphere scan, which is what I usually had to deal with. So, I was able to spend most of my attention on Andy's butt and determine see if the person behind the door might be trouble.

With considerable effort I redirected my attention from Andy's butt to the front door. I furrowed my brow as I concentrated on the door and tried to pick up any feelings from the person on the other side. I was pleased to discover that there were no feelings of danger, trouble or concern. I relaxed a bit and started to wonder just who would be dropping by for a visit at 7 PM on a Saturday night. All my friends and acquaintances knew enough to call me first before coming over. It was simple common courtesy.

By this time Andy had arrived at the door and looked through the peephole. As he opened the door to talk to the person on the other side, Andy shot me a quick glance of puzzlement and shrugged his shoulders. Clearly Andy did not recognize the person. Andy kept the chain on the door as he talked to the person on the other side. I was too far away to hear the conversation. After a few moments Andy closed the door and locked it. Andy walked back to the living room, waving me to stand up as he approached me.

"You aren't going to believe this," Andy said as he began speaking to me. "But there's a good looking guy out there asking for you by name. He says that he doesn't have an appointment, but he hopes you'll make an exception to talk with him. He said to tell you that his name is Cody, and that he's learned his lesson. Does any of this make sense to you?"

Cody! My mind flashed back to the lesson I had taught Cody and his buddies Justin and Dallas, several months ago when they had intended to beat me up. I had never told Andy the names of any of those cowboys so it wasn't surprising that Andy didn't make the connection. I was surprised though that Cody would have contacted me. I would have thought that after my lesson, Cody would not willingly have come within one hundred miles of me. For a brief moment I wondered how it was that Cody even knew my name, as I had never mentioned it to him. I realized that Cody did know my apartment number, and thus it would not be difficult to learn my name. Now my curiosity was aroused. Originally I had planned to ask Andy to get rid of whomever it was that was at the door, but I changed my mind. As I walked back to the door with Andy, I answered his question and quickly filled him in on the details about Cody. Andy was not amused. He insisted on standing behind me while I talked with Cody at the door. I couldn't help but feel touched at Andy's protective reaction. I almost felt sorry for Cody, as I knew that Andy's expression would be something less than friendly.

I walked up to the door, brushing past Andy, and giving his backside a soft pat. Andy grunted a wordless acknowledgment of my brief caress. I opened the door. What I saw left me stunned and speechless.

It was Cody, but it took me a second or two to recognize him. The man standing before me was about six feet tall, and slim, almost skinny. His face was as I remembered it, with deep emerald green eyes, set perfectly in his other wise average and clean shaven face. Wisps of his dark curly black hair peeked out from under the black Stetson hat that he wore on his head. Andy had neglected to mention that Cody was dressed as cowboy, but I guess he didn't consider it important enough to mention. Either that, or Andy didn't recognize the two piece charcoal suit that Cody was wearing, as being of a western design. I did though, and that was what surprised me so much. I had never expected to see Cody again, much less see him looking so dapper and handsome wearing a heather charcoal suit with suede yokes on the front (and probably on the back too if I knew my western suit designs), and drop down arrow detailing, on the jacket. The jacket did not have any breast pocket, but it did have two inset flap pockets and was a single breasted two button design. Cody wore the jacket undone, which allowed me to clearly see the white dress shirt that he wore, which might or might not have been of western design. It was difficult to determine that since I could not see if the shirt had western flap pockets or had snap closures. It was a safe bet that it probably was a western shirt though, since anything else would have been out of place. The front of the shirt was blocked by the colourful silk jacquard necktie that Cody was wearing. The tie had what appeared to be horizontal pattern of silhouetted cowboys sitting on a fence. It was an interesting looking tie and it was wide enough to cover the front part of Cody's shirt. The tie ended just above the bottom of Cody's belt buckle and covered the entire buckle. I couldn't really tell what the buckle looked like.

The heather charcoal coloured pants matched the jacket which confirmed that this was in fact a suit. With the jacket hanging open as it was I could clearly see the front of Cody's pants but I could not make out any details, other than Cody's fly was probably not open. The front of Cody's pants were in the shadow cast by Cody's jacket. From what I could see though, the pants looked to be close fitting. However, that could have been more my imagination and wishful thinking, than what I actually saw. So much was hinted at, and so many details I just could not make out. (Are you getting the impression that I was getting just a bit frustrated with all this? Well, I was.) A quick flick of my eyes down the length of the front of Cody's pants allowed me to determine that the pants were hemmed but not cuffed. The pants ended above a pair of midnight black cowboy boots polished to a mirror shine.

Cody stood there with his arms hanging limply by his sides, looking natural, relaxed and harmless, as he looked me in the eye. Only the gulp before he spoke betrayed that he was nervous and ill at ease.

"Hello Paul, er Mr. Walton," Cody said softly.

"What do you want, Cody?" I asked him coming straight to the point. The foulness of my mood had been somewhat mollified by my curiosity, but I was still unwilling to banter words with Cody.

"If you have the time, Mr. Walton, I'd like you to do me again," Cody answered quietly.

"Do you? What the heck does that mean?" I asked him, puzzled.

"I.II want you to milk me again," Cody answered in a deathly quiet whisper, and then blushed a bright beet red. He broke eye contact with me and gazed at the floor, unable to look at me any longer.

It took me only a second or so to remember the milking episode with Cody. Now I was really mystified. I couldn't for the life of me imagine that Cody would want to go through that particular exercise again. It hadn't exactly been an uplifting and wonderful experience for him the first time. (I'd had a lot of fun, it was true, but for Cody the experience wasn't exactly what I would have thought of as 'wonderful'.) I thought for a moment that this might be another test by someone else with the gift, except that I wasn't getting any danger signals from Cody. But then again, I had not scanned his mind. Without asking his permission I reached over and pushed the cowboy hat on Cody's head up and to the back so as to expose some of Cody's forehead. Cody raised his head in surprise as he felt me moving his hat on his head. I placed my fingertips on Cody's forehead and did a quick but deep scan of his mind. (Normally I always ask permission from a person before scanning their mind, but this was a strange enough situation to warrant the waiving of that particular courtesy. Besides this was Cody and I didn't trust him farther that I could drop kick a moose!)

"Yes, please, put me back in your power," Cody muttered out loud as soon as he felt my fingers on his forehead.

I ignored his request as I completed my scan. His request and desire were both genuine, it seemed, and there was no indication of any subsurface compulsion or drive for him to come here and ask this request of me. So he was safe, it seemed. I took my hand away from his forehead. Cody opened his eyes and looked at me, his face open and pleading.

"Will you do it Mr. Walton? Please?" He asked me.

"Come inside and we can discuss it, further," I answered him. "This is not something that should be talked about out in the hallway."

"Yes, Mr. Walton. Thank you," Cody said meekly as he walked past me into the front hall. He took one look at Andy, gulped several times and stopped dead in his tracks, with a look of fear pasted on his face. I turned my head to look at Andy. It was difficult for me not to smile at Cody's reaction. Andy was standing there with his arms crossed in front of his chest. He had a stony and mean look on his face, that could best be likened to an angry female grizzly bear with a very bad case of PMS. If I didn't know Andy better, I would have gulped in fear too.

"I have only two questions for you Cody," I said to him. He didn't respond.

"Hello, Cody? I'm talking to you." I said a bit louder.

That seemed to do it. Cody wrenched his attention away from Andy and back to me. "I'm sorry, Mr. Walton. You were saying?"

"I was saying that I have only two questions regarding your request," I said to him. "First, why should I put myself to any effort on your behalf? I don't exactly consider you one of my friends, you know. Second, why exactly do you want to do this? I find it doubtful in the extreme that you would be willing to undergo such an experience a second time, especially in front of a total stranger."

"Well, sir," Cody replied after a few moments thought. "I'd be willing to pay you for your time and effort in granting me my request."

"That answers the first question. What about the second?" I prompted him after a few minutes of silent.

"The answer to the second question is a bit complicated, Mr. Walton," Cody said with obvious hesitation. (I was tempted to tell him to just come out and say it, but I held my tongue. I could spare him a few more minutes to allow him to gather his thoughts before he spoke. I wasn't pressed for time, after all.)

"It's like this, Mr. Walton," Cody said as he began his explanation. He paused as he thought for a moment on how to phrase his answer. "That milking session with you didn't turn me gay or anything. I mean I'm not interested in guys. But it did change me. I've found my relationships with women are different now. I find myself feeling more concern over how they feel when we are having sex. I've started to wonder how a woman feels when she's got a cock stuck in her. I thought that maybe you'd help me to find out."