Title: Connect
Author: bobwhite
Summary: Matt loves Aimee too much to use his powers on her--but
what if she asks?
Keywords: MC MF

Connect
by bobwhite

                          * * * * * * * * * *

*Author's Note: I don't write romance very often. But, this has been
a good February for me, and it seemed right to write something for
Softi's February 2006 writing contest. I broke too many rules to win,
but I hope you enjoy the story anyway. Special thanks go to mnemosyne
for editing help.*

                          * * * * * * * * * *

One of the things that makes small towns great are the small
restaurants that aren't part of some multinational chain.  People go
to the local greasy spoon, pull up a chair to the table or sit on a
stool at the counter, order food, and visit with the other people who
were either too lazy to cook or just looking for company.  It's not
about getting the food in under five minutes, it's about community
and decent food--although complaining about the quality of the food
is obligatory and failure to do so is considered rude by some of the
owners of these little diners.

People are bound to run into their friends, relatives, coworkers, or
classmates at the local diner.  For some, it's the main reason for
going out for supper in the first place.  There are times you see
someone you like, and then there are times when you see someone you
can't stand.  It really gets ugly when those two people are with each
other, though.  And Matt is used to seeing someone he likes with
someone he hates.  Aimee, his best friend since third grade, and
Brad, a football player, were sitting at the booth by the front
window of the joint.  And as per usual, they were fighting.

Matt, not wanting to get involved, was just going to get up and go. 
He'd planned on staying in the diner and talking to his uncle, who
owned the place.  When Aimee and Brad arrived, Matt looked at the
clock and hoped that Brad would keep his cool for at least the twenty
minutes left before the place closed.  And, as much as he liked--nay,
loved--Aimee, he knew that she didn't want him as anything more than
a friend.  He was a really close friend, almost like a sister with a
penis, but no more.  And while he never made an attempt to win her
heart, he never laid down the torch he carried for her, either.

Normally, he would be happy to see Aimee, but couldn't talk to her
because Brad was around--and he was the jealous type.  His letterman
jacket entitled him to ownership of his girlfriend as far as he was
concerned; at least, that's what anybody who ever saw how he treated
his girlfriends thought.  Aimee had worn sunglasses to school for the
past couple of days, and Matt didn't want to stick his nose in her
business, so he had avoided asking her about it.  But the school was
talking about it, and the grapevine had it that Brad liked to hit her.

Matt was not one to judge, and he didn't like seeing Aimee and
Brad's public fights, so he decided to leave when the shouting began.
He paid for his half-eaten meal and walked to the door.  He stood
there with the door open, stopping only for a moment to look at
Aimee, who was facing him but crying and yelling at Brad.  People in
the diner were making a conscious effort to look away, and Matt
didn't know what drew his eyes to the scene.  Morbid curiosity? 
Unrequited love?  Years later, he would just chalk it up to a mixture
of coincidence and instinct.

Regardless of *why* he looked, he saw all he needed to see.  Brad
stood up, called her something particularly foul, and slapped her so
hard her sunglasses flew off her head.  When she looked at him,
wordlessly pleading for him not to hit her again, he hit her again.
This time, his fist was closed.  Because Brad was the son of the
county sheriff, nobody would even look in their direction--Sheriff
Dratcher could have been the inspiration for small town law
enforcement officer stereotypes, and around Carrollton, it was best
to just leave him and his unruly son alone.

Matt's parents had told him to never put much faith in what people
say about other people, especially if the one being talked about is
popular.  So, he'd just passed off the rumors about Brad's treatment
of his girlfriends as just that--*rumors.*  But this was no rumor. 
He'd *seen* it.

Taking two steps back, Matt allowed the door to close in front of
him.  He didn't fancy himself a knight in shining armor, but that
display was over the line.  Slowly, he walked over to the table. 
"Come on, Aimee.  I'll take you home, it'll be OK," he said with his
hand held out to her.

She took it, and got up from the booth.  In seconds, she was out the
door and headed toward Matt's car.

"OK, you little fuck, you're *dead*," Brad said.  To his surprise,
though, he remained seated.  When his failed attempts to get up
finally subsided, his face betrayed the fact that his fury was now
mixed with a twinge of fear, as if something wasn't quite right with
the situation.

"Trouble getting up, Brad?  Listen.  Follow me outside," he told the
seething jock.  Addressing the table on the other side of the diner,
the one populated by five of Brad's fellow football players, he
announced, "Listen up.  I want five men to volunteer to beat the shit
out of this guy who likes to hit girls.  Any takers?"

Brad's teammates stood up and followed him and Matt outside.  Matt
told Brad to stand in the middle of the parking lot, which he did. 
The other guys surrounded him.  Aimee walked away from Matt's car and
walked toward where he was standing and giving instructions.
Instinctively, Matt turned and saw her approaching him.  He motioned
for her to stop, and she did.

Pitching his voice low, Matt spoke to the six football players.  The
sound of the locusts, he hoped, would be enough to drown out his
voice so that Aimee would not be able to hear what he was saying--
briefly, he was glad it was almost eleven o'clock; he would have
never had the nerve to do this in full daylight.  *Hell, even the
yellowish glow of the pole lights is probably too much... OK, time to
get this underway.*

Aimee, standing about halfway between Matt and his car, watched her
friend speaking for about a minute or so to Brad and his teammates. 
They took their jackets off when Matt stopped talking, and he turned
and walked toward her as the guys began to move around Brad.  Matt
came up to Aimee and tenderly brushed a lock of her dark, curly hair
away from her bruised face.  Aimee gasped--but not at the gesture. 
Matt turned around and looked at the six men he'd just instructed.

One of them--Joe, or maybe Ben; it was hard to tell in the dim, dull
light--had struck Brad in the jaw.  Matt put his arm around Aimee as
the m^l,e began, and they went back to his car; neither looked back
to the fight.  When they were finally in his car, Matt silently
started the long drive to his house out in the country.  Once safely
out of town, Matt broke the silence.  "Look, I know I kind of forced
you to leave with me back there, and I don't mean to treat you like a
little girl who can't take care of herself.  I don't want to be a
hero rescuing the damsel in distress, but--"

"Thank you, Matt," Aimee said, looking down, her face throbbing. 
"But what just happened back there?  Those guys are his friends...."
Her words dissolved into quiet weeping.

Matt just sighed.  "Don't worry, they'll do what I told them, and
Brad will never touch you again or they'll beat him down *again*. 
Please, just relax and put him behind you.  I'm taking you to my
house so you can... clean up...."  *So you can put an ice bag on your
face, so that the swelling doesn't set in too much....*

"I'll be glad to have that ice bag," Aimee said, looking at Matt.

*Oh shit!* Matt thought, suddenly aware that his anger hadn't
subsided yet and that he was projecting.

"Oh shit?" Aimee questioned.  "Oh shit?  What do you mean... wait,
your lips aren't moving... I can hear you talking... Matt, what's
going on?  Is this a joke?  I'm not laughing.  What about his dad,
you know how he is!"

Mustering his strength, he focused his mind on Aimee and said,
"Brad's dad isn't going to find out about this because nobody is
going to tell him how his son got the shit knocked out of him. 
Everything's OK, it's fine, Brad won't bother you again and I'm here
for you.  *You understand*."  That last bit took a bit out of him and
the car swerved.  He came to himself quickly enough to recover, but
he was still glad he wasn't far from home.

As he expected, his little push had stopped her questions.  But he
didn't expect her to put her hand on his thigh and her head on his
shoulder as he drove the rest of the way to his house.  He was going
to pry into her head just a bit to see what that was all about, but
he decided he'd better just get home before he got too distracted and
lost control of the car.  Again.

                          * * * * * * * * * *

"Ever notice how much an ice bag looks like a barret?" Matt asked as
he filled an old-fashioned ice bag with a little water and a lot of
ice and handed it to Aimee.  "There, put it on the side of your
face... it won't help if there're any bruises forming, but it should
help with the swelling."

Aimee took the bag and held it to her face.  She flinched as the
cold material contacted her burning, painful face.  After a few
moments, she found the courage to speak what had been on her mind
since Matt had told her that she *understood*.

"Matt... somehow I think I already know... but tell me how you made
Brad's friends beat him up."

Matt had been getting a couple glasses of sweet tea when he heard
the question, and he stopped for a moment.  "Aimee...."

"And how did I hear you talking in the car when your mouth was
closed?  Why did I just get up and go with you?  I mean, thank you...
sorry, that didn't come out right... but when you told me to
understand... I think I did.  I do, I mean.  You can make things
happen, can't you?"  Her voice was pitched low, and her tone skirted
the line between worry and accusation.

He turned around and set the glasses of iced tea on the table, and
then took a seat next to Aimee.  *Way to go, genius.  How much did I
shove into her head when I told her to *understand*?  Just tell her,
you can always make her forget later... you're back in control now,
just tell her, see how she reacts... *"I... *(sigh) *I can make
people do things.  I don't even have to speak, but it helps me focus.
I'm pretty good at it, actually...."

He waited for her to respond.  After she took a few drinks of tea,
she finally said, "Somehow I knew it... and... I know how you feel
about me."  When she said the last part, she put her free hand on his
arm.

"I know you just want to be friends, Aimee," Matt said, looking down
at his drink.  "I suppose I could have changed that, but I didn't
want to *make* it happen.  I did that once or twice," he admitted,
testing the waters.  Aimee smiled, almost playfully, and lifted an
eyebrow.  "But, while it was... well, *fun*, it wasn't any more than
just that."

"What's wrong with fun?  Why didn't you get yourself a girlfriend? 
You put up with a lot of shit at school because you aren't dating
anyone.  You could have anyone, couldn't you?"

Matt nodded.

"I... I don't know how, but I think I can... wait, I *can* remember
some of the things you've done."  Aimee closed her eyes and
concentrated, lowering the ice bag form her face.  A faint smile
spread over her face again, and she opened her eyes.  "It's weird,
like trying to remember lines in a movie I haven't seen for years."

"Sorry," Matt said.  "Like I said, I'm pretty good.  But, I'm not an
expert, and while I don't usually lose control, I can't really
completely control what I do when I'm... well, upset or stressed.  So
I try not to..."  Matt trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"Push," she finished for him.  "You try not to *push *them.  That's
what you call it, isn't it? I guess I know that too.  What's going
on?"

"I think I pushed you too hard when I told you to understand, Aimee.
I think I fed you enough of... well, enough of *me*... to allow you
to understand.  I was still pissed at Brad, and like I said--"

"You have trouble with control when you're stressed," Aimee said,
finishing his sentence again.

For an hour or so, they just sat there in his kitchen, drinking tea
and talking a little.  He'd refilled their glasses once, and they
were halfway through their second glass when she asked him about how
he'd "pushed" girls before.  He started to say that he was younger
(and it had been two years ago since he'd last used his power for
sex), and that he didn't ever plan on doing it again, but she stopped
him.

"Yeah yeah yeah... look, I've been thinking."

"I know," Matt teased.  She took a surprised expression, and he
quickly added, "Hey, I didn't peek inside your head.  I promise."

She gave him a sly grin and continued.  "Anyway, I've been thinking.
A guy like you... well, I guess what I'm trying to say is... could
you... you know, because you can make people do... well...."

Matt grabbed and squeezed her hand.  "Let me in, and I'll try to
figure out what you're trying to say."  She nodded and closed her
eyes, and Matt skimmed her thoughts.  Where he'd expected to find
questions about how it worked and why he never used it on her if he
liked her so much, he found something else.  It was something that he
hadn't shielded himself against, and his cock stirred to life in
response.

When she saw Matt's expression, Aimee giggled and blushed a little,
rubbing his hand with her fingers.  "Surprised?  Tell me."

"I'm just amazed you can even think of that... I mean, a couple of
hours ago..."  Matt shook his head in disbelief and adjusted his
pants.

"A couple of hours ago, I was hit by an asshole who is probably in
the hospital right now.  A few minutes later, I found out that there
was a guy who I've always liked who was in love with me so much that
he didn't treat me like a sex doll when he could have done so on a
whim.  I'm here with that rare person--the mystical best friend of
the opposite sex--and for the first time, I feel like I'm with the
only man who can ever truly understand me, and who I can understand
just as well as I know myself."

"Fair enough... but that's not what you were thinking, Aimee."

"No.  I can't help it--come on, you know women enjoy sex.  If I
recall," she said, squinting as she tried to recall one of his
memories that she now possessed, "yes... yeah, you made sure Erin had
a *great* time.  You can change how my body feels things, can't you?"

Matt blushed this time, and he suddenly couldn't meet Aimee's eyes.

"It's OK, Matt.  Answer me."

Taking a deep breath to steady his voice, he said, "Yes, I can
change how you feel things.  It's no different than telling you what
to do, really... all physical sensation occurs in the brain, after
all."

Aimee stood up, took the ice bag to the sink, and emptied it.  She
dragged her chair around so she could sit facing him with no table in
the way.  Finally sitting down, she said, "My face still hurts.  I
don't think the ice will stop any more swelling.  Can you make it not
hurt?"

Matt smiled tenderly and held her hands.  He lifted an eyebrow, and
Aimee breathed deeply.  "Wow," she said.  "It feels like normal...."

"Be careful, it's still an injury and the skin is tender.  But, it
won't hurt you."

Aimee took her hands from his and put them on his thighs.  Rubbing
them up and down slowly, she asked, "And what about what I was
thinking about earlier?"

"Aimee, I don't think we should go there...."

Silently, Aimee stood from her chair.  She took a couple of steps
and straddled Matt's legs, finally sitting on his lap, facing him. 
Running her hands through his hair, she turned his head slightly and
bent to kiss him.  She had to lick his lips to get him to open his
mouth.  Finally, he slid his tongue into her mouth and gave her what
he thought was a decent kiss.  That was not good enough, though. 
Pulling away slightly, she told him, "use your mind... kiss me the
way I want... anticipate it... do something with that head of yours,
Matt, make this the best kiss I've ever had, please... only you can
do this... show me how much you love me...."

Matt licked his lips and nodded.  Aimee kissed him again, gripping
his hair tightly.  And a few seconds later, Matt's tongue grew more
bold.  It went where she wanted it to go, it danced over and around
her tongue and occasionally grazed the back of her teeth--something
she always loved when done just right.

After a long, wet kiss that Aimee knew beyond a doubt to be the best
kiss she'd ever had, she asked, "Can we go to your bedroom?"

"Aimee, let's not rush--"

"No, Matt.  You've waited, you could have had me any way you wanted
but you didn't.  You have loved me for as long as you can remember
liking girls.  I *understand*.  I want you.  I love--"

"Don't say it!  You don't--"

"I love you," Aimee said.  "I *do* know what I'm saying.  And I
don't care if you made me feel like this on purpose, by accident, or
even at all..  This is *wonderful*, this feeling, and I want you,
Matt.  Take me to your room, and make me forget all the guys I've
ever been with.  Make me yours.  *Please*."

Aimee stood up and took Matt's hands in her own.  Drawing Matt up,
she said, "Will we wake your parents?  It's late and I know they go
to bed early...."

Matt closed his eyes for a moment.  Opening them, he said, "Nope. 
They're not going to wake up, no matter how loud we are.  But are you
sure you want to do this?"

Aimee answered by grabbing his belt buckle and dragging him out of
the kitchen.  Matt mentally told her where his room was, and they
weren't in there for long before they were naked and on his bed,
kissing and holding each other.

Matt was already hard, and as they lay on his bed, he said, "OK,
last chance.  We can stop now, and never talk about this again...."

With catlike speed, Aimee got on top of him and covered his body
with hers.  "Matt, enough.  Let me make this clear:  I want you do to
things to me that no other human being, no matter how strong, long,
talented, or whatever, could ever do to me.  I know you can do...
do... ooooooooooh, yeah.... it feels like... you're licking my...
oh...."

Aimee's hips wiggled as phantom tongues probed her pussy, which was
getting wetter by the second.  In the back of her mind, she thought
about how it would feel if someone were nibbling on her neck while
she was getting oral, and a moment later she felt that, too.

"Th-this... is... *amazing*... now let me see... mmmmm, yeah,
*there* we go!" she said, finally wiggling in such a way that his
cock, which had been pressed between their bodies, was free and
pointed at her womanhood.  Carefully, using a talent she'd learned
the fun way, she slid down onto his erection without even having to
guide him in.

He thrust into her slowly, each thrust nearly making her cum.  But,
he couldn't manage to get the right rhythm with her on top and laying
on him, so with a few quick thrusts, he gave her a quick and solid
orgasm.  She moaned, almost growling, in ecstasy.  He used the
distraction to roll her onto her back.  But, she came to her senses
and rolled him back over.

"Oh no you don't... let me show you what I can do...." And with
that, she sat up on his pole and rode him.  Her hips took on a
forward and back motion that surprised him; the other girls had tried
to hop up and down on him--and they got tired too quickly.  But she
could control her speed, and started going faster and faster,
stopping a few times to lift up and slam her pussy onto his dick a
few times, before going back to her other motions.

Matt was in heaven, but he focused enough to see what else he could
do for *her*.  The nibbling on her neck was still getting to her, so
he added a sucking and biting sensation to her nipples--*that *drove
her crazy, and she started to squeal between her long, throaty moans.
But after several minutes of that, she was getting used to it. 
Carefully, he probed around in her mind to see what kinky things
she'd ever thought about trying.  He found a what he was looking for
and added the appropriate sensations with a sharp slap to her ass.

When she felt the change, she collapsed onto him, her body shaking
and her cunt squeezing his cock as she came.  She got back to her
knees and let him thrust his up into her, and came again and again as
tongues danced over her clit and ass.  Tiny bites attacked her
nipples and neck, and he reached down and spanked her again to add to
the effect.

"Oh... fuck, fuck me... fuck me, I'm cumming...  mmmmmmmmmm,
uuuungh!" she moaned as she came again.

He had by that point lost count of how many times he'd made her cum.
The tongue at her ass was rimming her with quick, wet, hot tongue
jabs.  He knew that what she was feeling would be impossible without
his help, given their position.  But, peeking inside her head again,
he learned that it didn't matter to her that it was impossible to
have two mouths pleasuring her front and back holes while a perfectly
shaped cock drilled her slit.

Instead, he heard her mind wonder what it would be like to have
dozens, then hundreds, of mouths and tongues licking, kissing, and
biting her in different places all over her body at once.  Matt,
approaching his own climax, added any sensation she was curious about
as soon as she formed the thought.  And, he made sure it felt good to
her.

By the time he came inside her, she even felt that perfect kiss from
before in addition to all the other feelings coursing through her
body.  Panting and exhausted, Aimee fell forward, once again covering
Matt's sweaty body.  He slowly sent the phantom tongues and lips that
had been bathing her with kisses away, allowing her to come down from
her sexual high.  Slowly (and a little reluctantly), she moved off of
him and slid to his side, laying in his arm.  Her head resting on his
shoulder, she put her hand over his heart, which she knew belonged to
her just as her heart was his.

                          * * * * * * * * * *

For a long time, they lay there, Aimee feeling the subtle thump of
Matt's heart with her hand over his breastbone as he came down. 
Finally, Matt spoke.  "That was... wild.  You don't know how long
I've wanted this, Aimee."

"Yes I do, Matt."

He laughed.  "Yeah, sorry about that.  Listen, if you--"

She covered his mouth with her hand.  "Look, it's OK.  I want this,
I don't blame you, and I love you."

"But... it could be fake," he said.

"It's not, as far as I'm concerned.  And I know you love me--that's
good enough, isn't it?"

"Good point," Matt said.  "So... are we going out now?  You know,
should I give you my class ring?"

"What do you think?"

Matt laughed, realizing how stupid the question was.  Sobering, he
said, "Listen.  I promise you that I won't ever hurt you.  And if you
want to leave, just tell me."

"Matt, eventually, you are going to hurt me.  We're human.  Just
promise to love me.  The rest we can worry about later."

"You already know how I feel."

"OK, good point," Aimee conceded.  "But tell me:  are you ever going
to get horny and take some other girl to bed?  I mean, I know you are
capable...."

Matt's voice almost sounded hurt as he said, "No, never.  I would
never have another woman when I have you."

Playfully, Aimee said, "Never?  Not even if I ask you?"  Matt's
expression was priceless, and Aimee quickly added, "Hey, easy, just
kidding.  You're all mine... but it's something fun to think about...
hey, I never thought about doing a three-way before... well, not with
with an extra girl, anyway.  Thanks, Matt."  She kissed him, and he
responded with another kiss that was better than the last.  Before he
wanted it to end, though, she broke it off.

"What, don't want to go for another round?" he asked, only half-
joking.

"While I'm sure it would be fun, I do have to go home.  It's really
late, and by now my parents have heard about what happened.  Give me
a ride?"

"Sure," Matt said.  They both sat up and got off the bed, gathering
their discarded clothing.

"Oh... when we get there, can you do something so they don't ask my
why I'm so late, why I'm with you, and what happened?  I want all of
that... stuff... to be behind me," Aimee asked.

"No problem, but let's not make a habit of messing with their heads.
Like I said, I'm still not great at what I do."

Matt had finished dressing when he said that, and Aimee--still
topless--came to him and put his hands on her full breasts.  "Not
great?  You sure seem fine to me.  Now, let's go.  I think my shirt
is in the hall."

*Maybe in a few years, I should save up for a ring*, Matt thought as
Aimee picked up her shirt.

Aimee stopped dead in her tracks and spun around, her uncovered
breasts jiggling slightly.  The look on her face told him that she'd
heard him.  *What's happening?  Can she hear me now?  This never
happened before*.

Aimee looked like she was listening to a whisper in a crowded, noisy
room.  Finally, she told Matt, "I can hear you, just barely, and I'm
glad it never happened before.  I guess this is the real thing, isn't
it?  You're the one.  I'm your one, too."  She closed her eyes and
concentrated.  A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead, and Matt
felt a faint lick going from his scrotum, up his shaft, and over the
head of his dick.  Again, his erection strained his pants as the
sensation faded.

"How did you...." Matt began.

"I don't know, Matt.  But we have a long time to figure out how far
this goes," Aimee said, finally putting on her shirt.  "Take me home,
Matt."

                          * * * * * * * * * *

(c) 2006, bobwhite.  All rights reserved.  All wrongs also reserved.