Hypnosis and the Happy Hippy Pt. 05

Reflecting on the last few months, while awaiting the return of the courage that would allow me to walk back into Zeb with my fanny on display, I thought about my recent indiscretions.

My first time with Zeb, not counting the one where Jay pretended to be asleep, was my choice. I did not admit it to myself, but I went intending to fuck him. I pretended that I only wanted to see what his form of hypnosis could do, but, really, no bra and no panties...?

Party Roger, I would probably have screwed, with or without those giggle zones, especially after having felt the size of his cock. It was not an experience I felt the need to repeat. Jay's size was far more compatible with my needs, but I needed to try, didn't I?

I certainly would not have fucked a dirty, wham-bam trucker, who used me as an alternative to masturbation. And I would not have shagged Zeb a second time without them; though I would never have had a reason to go there without them.

Right! He's seen my fanny pissing. He's seen it close up and personal. He's tasted it. He's rammed his cock in it more than once. I can tolerate him staring at it for that short walk.

I flushed and walked out of the bathroom. The living room door was wide open, and the flush made Zeb turn to face me. Brazen it out, Sandra, I instructed myself. And, true to form, he stared right at my crotch, clit still swollen and protruding. I felt it twitch with arousal. Fucking stop it, you hussy!

"You took a while?" Zeb did not raise his eyes from my pudenda as he spoke.

"I was shy about coming out without my knickers."

"You could have called me. I'd have passed them in."

"Believe me, that would be worse." I found my panties and bent over to pick them up, realising too late that I was displaying my rear view to him like a baboon in heat. I put the underwear on as fast as I could.

"Now, this time, you really are going to hypnotise these erogenous zones out of me."

"Fair enough. Don't put your jeans back on, they really are too tight. And leave the tights, too."

"I don't know why I should, but I'm trusting you not to seduce me again."

"Scout's honour."

"Where you ever in the scouts?"

"No."

"Pointless oath, then."

"Lie down, and relax." He indicated the mattress, then walked out.

A minute later, he returned with one of those soft cellular blankets that were so popular in the seventies. He placed it over me. "Now you're covered, unbutton that shirt. It's too tight."

His sudden assertiveness was compelling and a little sexy, but I was not going there again.

While I was obeying his instructions, he put my favourite meditation record on the stereo--Hergest Ridge; there was no such thing as "New Age" music in those days.

"Close your eyes." Zeb turned on his best hypnotic voice, drawing out the words, "Relax, breathing deeply and slowly, deeply and slowly, relaxing as you find yourself drifting deeper and slower, breathing, relaxing."

He carried on in this deeply relaxing vein for some time, counting me down into a hypnotic sleep, his words getting lost in the depths of my relaxation.

"... Five. Feeling your surroundings," was the next I heard, "Four, three. Feeling returning to your muscles, eyes feeling lighter and wanting to open. Two. Eyes opening. One. Now fully awake." He clapped his hands to make sure I obeyed.

I began to move my muscles in turn, stretching, rolling. I peeked under the blanket. At least I was still wearing my panties; a good sign.

"You get dressed while I make you a coffee. Wake you up." Collecting the cups from the floor, Zeb walked out. I threw on my tights, jeans, and boots and buttoned up my shirt.

Now decent again, I staggered to the door on my way to the bathroom. In my post sleep haze, I heard running water in the distance as Zeb was, apparently, rinsing cups.

As I turned into the bathroom, I stopped in my tracks as I realised that the running water was, in fact, Zeb's peeing. Once again, I could not help but stare at the profile of his plump penis. No matter how many times I've seen a man pee, I am still irresistibly drawn to the stream of piss pouring from the end of a prick. It is a bit of a turn on, to say the least. I will never understand why some men stand sideways when pissing into a toilet bowl. It must make for a more difficult target.

"Don't you ever shut doors?" I queried.

"Not in my own home," he replied, unfazed by my transfixed eyes.

"It'd be better if you faced the cistern," I offered.

"Not for you though, Pussy Cat."

Oh! Is that why? I thought.

I snapped out of my reverie and stepped back out, turning my back. The toilet flushed and Zeb walked out; I walked in and noticed that Zeb had already dropped the seat; so considerate. I unzipped and dropped my jeans. I looked at the door; unable to resist the impish impulse, I left it open on the off chance Zeb would walk past and peer in. He didn't disappoint.

I'd just got into full flow when Zeb walked out of the kitchen carrying two cups. He looked in and I looked up.

"Don't you ever shut doors?" He echoed my words.

"Not if there's a chance I'll get caught." I instantly regretted opening my mouth. I still spread my thighs and felt dirty for doing it. Instead of closing them, I spread them further. The thrill was more powerful than the disgust.

Zeb allowed his eyes to linger around my crotch for a while and then walked on.

"Let me check you out," Zeb said as I walked back into his living room.

"What?"

"Sit in the chair and I'll check that you're back to normal."

"Don't think so," I said, "Too dangerous."

"Have you got no faith in me?" He asked. I shrugged. "Come on, sit down."

I sat back in the chair and Zeb, once again, began massaging my head. He brushed the previously sensitive spot on my forehead, then massaged my shoulders. Moving down, he caressed my upper arms through my shirt. Seeing no reaction, he unpopped my shirt again and moved his hands inside to stroke the bare flesh on my arms.

"Anything?" He asked.

"Not a thing," I lied, but this time the arousal was controllable.

He couldn't help himself, could he? He had to let his hands slide into my bra and play with my nipples. I slapped his hands, which hurt me a little, but he got the message.

We drank our coffees until I realised I had barely enough time to get back home before Jay. Wrapping up in the jumper and poncho, I left, telling Zeb that this was the last time we'd be alone together. However, I did want him to teach Jay how to hypnotise people.

"Why ever would I do that?"

"Because you're a friend." I gave him a brotherly kiss and left before he could respond.

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