Hypnosis and the Happy Hippy Pt. 04

"Were you in the navy, Mac?" I asked.

"Aye. I was. How d'ya know?"

"Well, they don't look like prison tattoos," I observed, "so they must be navy." In those days, regular people didn't get tattoos.

"Hark at Shirley Holmes, there," said Jimmy.

"Oh, I love tattoos," Pam spouted. Could she have been more obvious?

"Aye. I've got them as well. You want to see mine?"

"Yeah, go on," I urged

"You'd have to come over to ma wagon for that." He flirted.

"You'd have to buy us some drinks first." Pam continued to flirt.

"Your mates a live one, int she?" Jimmy said to me. "What do yer want?"

In unison, Pam and I called for a vodka and orange. Jimmy turned to the bar.

"A bit of advice, lass," Mac began. "Never get a girlfriend's name tattooed on yer."

Mac pulled up his shirt to reveal an elaborate tattoo of a girl in a sailor's hat riding a shiny torpedo. Underneath was a wide scar.

"Had to burn the bitch's name off. It fucking hurt. Sorry, I did no mean to swear."

They might have been rough-as-arse-holes, but they seemed to behave like gentlemen around ladies.

"You a Pretty Things fan, eh?" I asked.

"What?"

"The tattoo. It's just like the cover of an album.

"I don't know, lass. Some tattoo parlour in Port Said did it."

"Oh. Nice." Said Pam.

"What's that? Me belly or the tat?" Mac said.

"Both, since you're asking."

We all laughed at that.

"Are you two mates, then?" I asked.

"Aye," said Jimmy, turning back and handing us our drinks--double vodka and oranges. "We met in here two year ago." He passed Mac a pint, "discovered we live two mile apart. Then, turns out we served on the same ship, but I joined just as he left."

"Coincidences do happen, then." Pam fluttered her eyelashes.

As we talked, it became apparent that Mac was right into Pam, even though he was old enough to be her father. Jimmy seemed to be quite taken by me. However, even I was well out of their league. Through the soft focus of vodka, especially doubles, however, they both started to look presentable.

Pam continued to flirt with Mac during the second part of the entertainment, and Jimmy was flirting with me. I pretended not to realise, but I had to admit to myself that it was flattering and they were nice blokes, but I was not in the market for a bit of rough that night.

I don't know when it began, but I remember thinking that Jimmy and I had started casually touching. Just a little tap on the knee, or the elbow, at first. Not wanting to give any signals, I tried to blow some stray hairs from my face at one point. Noticing this, Jimmy moved it away, brushing across the tiny erogenous spot on my forehead, sending a little tingle down to my groin. I ignored it, but it took some effort.

"I need to visit the little girl's room," I said, standing up.

Pam said she would join me. As I stepped over Jimmy's legs, he was just at the right height to stroke my knee. This he did, on the back, purposefully and right on the erogenous zone programmed there. My knee buckled.

"Naughty!" I said to him, wondering what possessed me to say it.

The ladies' toilet smelled pretty bad; well, it was a dockside pub. We were the only women in there and, since there were only two stalls anyway, Pam and I were next to each other.

"I think we've copped there," Pam said.

"You think?" It came out sarcastically. "Not really our type, are they?"

"They've got dicks!"

"That might be your criteria, but I'm a bit more sophisticated," I was trying to talk myself out of it. I could hear Pam pissing in the toilet bowl.

"Come on, Sandra. I saw the way you went weak when he touched you."

"That's because..." I hesitated, as I the first dribbles of pee hit the bowl.

"What?"

"You know I told you about my hyper-sensitive erogenous zones?"

"Yeah."

"Well, he found one as I stood up. I'm tingling like someone shoved a feather duster up me." I wiped and flushed. We exited the stalls together.

"No. Really? Are you?"

"I'm trying to control myself."

"Oh, live a little, kid."

"I'm not a slut, you know."

Pam stopped dead, staring sternly at me. It wasn't a word I ever used about another woman and I certainly hadn't meant to imply that Pam was. It was just a careless slip of the tongue. She said nothing, and we walked back together with me not apologising. Once again, as I lifted my leg to step across Jimmy's, he found that sweet spot on the back of my knee. This time, my whimper was audible as I stumbled into my chair.

"You seem to enjoy that," Jimmy whispered to me.

"What? I, erm, it's, yes, it..." I fumbled and stumbled over my words. I glanced at Pam and Mac, who were cozying up and whispering to each other.

He reached down and consciously found the same spot again and my fanny was on fire. My eyes bulged, and I stared straight ahead at the band. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Pam stand up.

"We're..." she started, "Mac's just going to show me his big rig." She winked, and Mac stood up.

"You wanna see mine?" Jimmy whispered as he continued to stroke.

Without a word, I grabbed Jimmy's hand and stood up. We followed Pam and Mac out.

"Where is it?" Pam asked.

"Down thataway. Not far." He replied.

Jimmy's truck was in the opposite direction. I glanced back to see Mac unlocking a vehicle not far away, wondering if his was a wise decision.

"Here it is," Jimmy said as we stopped and he unlocked his door. You climb up and get in the back. "Here's the steps," he pointed.

As I climbed, he lifted my dress and kissed my bum through the nylon of my tights and the cotton of my knickers--well, I did say I had no intention of copping off. He slid his hands between my thighs and rubbed my damp crotch, sending shock waves through my pelvic basin. As I climbed higher, he caressed the backs of my knees and down my calves. I was almost incapable of climbing all the way up. He slipped off my shoes as I knelt on the seat.

Climbing into the back, I was amazed at how comfortable it was. A thick sleeping bag lay on top of a soft foam mattress. I lay down as Jimmy climbed in. As soon as he was in the back, he peeled off my tights and knickers in a functional procedure. Lifting my skirt, he licked my fanny like a dog licks your hand. I didn't care. I was already on fire.

Kneeling up, he fumbled in his pocket, then fumbled with his jeans, unzipping them and pulling out his erection. It was not an impressive object, but it kept me simmering as I watched him unwrap a condom, fling the wrapper into the front of the cab, and expertly apply the protection.

In a flash, Jimmy rammed home; it was quite uncomfortable. Another time it would have turned me off, but, thanks to my hypnotic programming, there was no stopping me. Sensing that this might be a quick session, I slid my right hand between us and found my clitoris. I could feel his latex-clad shaft sliding past my fingers, pulling my bud down to greet it each time he pushed inside me.

The combination of Jimmies weapon rubbing against my g-spot and my manual circling action soon had me tipping over into a less than spectacular orgasm; a matter of luck over technique. Jimmy tensed as I moaned, wrapping my legs around his wide hips. Another couple of thrusts and grunts, and Jimmy was spent. I relaxed my legs and straightened them out.

Jimmy knelt up. The view brought me crashing back to the earth that had not moved; a soggy latex bag swung from the end of his softening knob. He reached over and opened the far window, pulled off the condom, and flung it out over the fence. Books and covers sprung in to my mind.

"That was a great shag, gorgeous," Jimmy complimented. I wondered how he could tell. "You was well up for that, eh, sexy?"

"Mm," was all I could manage. I was a little lost for words.

"You always this quiet after coming?" He asked.

"Yep," I said and retrieved my knickers from the front seat. By the time I'd pulled my tights on over them, there was a banging on the cab door. Jimmy opened it. Pam looked up.

"You ready, kid." She asked.

"Yeah. Help me down." I climbed over the seat and grabbed my shoes.

"Hey, lass," Jimmy called, "Don't I at least get a kiss for giving you a good time?"

I stretched over and kissed him, quickly sliding down with Pam's guidance.

"There's a phone box up there," she pointed out. "Let's call a cab."

"Too right," I said, putting my shoes on and slamming the truck's door.

Pam rang for a taxi while I waited outside.

"I see yours was as quick as mine," I observed as pam let the telephone box door close.

"You noticed."

"Hey, did Mac even ask you your name?"

"Not that I remember. I don't think he was interested."

"No. Nor Jimmy."

We stood and swapped accounts of our brief encounters.

"At least mine used a condom," I said.

"Mine too. Probably experienced a dose of the clap a few times."

"Probably," I said. "Hey, do you think we just did those prossies out of some earnings tonight?"

"Hey, we should have charged them."

"They bought our drinks all night. What more do you want?" We both giggled and rested our heads on each other.

I spotted a car turn onto the dock road in the distance. "Hey, which cabs did you call?"

"Gamma."

"Bloody idiot! That's the one Jay works for!"

"Oops," she said.

And, just to fulfil my fear, I recognised the front of the Hillman Hunter as it approached.

"You ordered a carriage, my ladies," Jay called through his open window.

Pam and I piled in the back.

"Good night?" Jay enquired.

"Not really," I pushed in before Pam could speak. "There was a great band, but the place was full of drunken truckers and Russian sailors."

"Yeah! Couldn't get a look in with the working girls in there," Pam laughed.

"I took one to a ship early on. Then I got the call to pick her up. Do you know where I took her?"

"No." I replied.

"Two docks down. To another ship. Had my car searched on the way out with her. Bloody good tipper, though."

"It must be a lucrative game," I said.

We all laughed.

Jay dropped Pam off first and then signed off the cab and took me home. I staggered up the stairs, unsure whether this was the effect of the alcohol or my nerves. I asked Jay to make me a coffee while I went and prepared for bed. He did give me an odd look when I walked out with my nightie over my arm.

"What? Might as well do everything at once," I said, waving my toothbrush and towel at him.

In truth, I just didn't want to get undressed in front of Jay right then. I also wanted to have a good wash down below before putting on my nightwear. I know Jimmy used a condom, but something about the romp in his truck made me feel dirty, really dirty.

We sat drinking our coffees with little conversation. I told Jay that I was feeling a bit under the weather, which I was, but not from a physical malady. I washed up, and we climbed into the bed. Jay began to kiss and fondle me. It was nice, but it wasn't arousing.

"I'm sorry," I said, "I'm just not feeling it. I did say I was feeling under the weather." Well, I had just fucked a stranger who didn't even know my name. "Just hold me."

He couldn't see the tears rolling down my cheeks.

Next morning, I told Jay I was feeling unwell, and I had a blinding headache; it wasn't such a big lie. Jay went off to his training scheme, after making me a breakfast and serving it to me in bed. I did not deserve him.

After eating, I slept again. I slept until almost eleven. I awoke feeling much better and prepared for the day ahead. Looking out of the window, it was quite sunny for a late January but it looked cold. If I was going out, I needed to dress up warm.

I walked out into the crisp winter air wearing my hand-crocheted poncho over a heavy knitted jumper, my legs protected by a pair of jeans over thick tights. My woolly beanie hat kept my head and ears warm. Sexy, I was not. And where I was going, sexy was the last thing I wanted to look.

The door between the shop fronts was quickly answered after I had pounded the wood.

"Right you," I said, "You are going to remove these unwanted erogenous zones." I pushed through to the hall. Zeb's eyes opened wide and his jaw dropped in surprise.

... to be continued in part 5