Like all women, I went through the stages of experimentation, in codes of conduct, morals, smoking, and drinking, when I was in high school, and as I entered the more formal grown up world of the single girl, on the make. It is no surprise to you, I’m sure, that sex and drinking was something that I liked, and wanted to do, a lot. Of course, I tried to appear to be the perfect lady to my family, business associates, and those upright ladies at church. Smoking, was a stinky habit, so I quit that.
Some said that I was aimless, and just a party girl, in my early twenties. Guess they saw through my good girl charade. Between you and I, on Saturday nights, if I did not have a hot date, Kim DeSota and I would drive to San Diego from El Cajon, where we lived.
We always went to the same place, the “Rusty Tank,” a dance and drinking hole, which was crowded with Marines, and girls, like us, that knew you would get lots of attention there. The man to woman ratio was six to one.
“Bomb, ba, da, da, — Bomb, ba, da, da.” Music not just heard, but felt, as the strobes flashed, spinning globes ran light streaks along the walls, and deep tanned men, real men, riveted their eyes on us, like wolves.
The first time we went there, it was because we had heard that it was, “A great place to dance, and flirt.” That evening, it was ninety degrees. After a few dances, both Kim’s and my dress showed sweat stains under the arms, and my panties and bra were damp. We were dancing every dance with one of the six Marines that had taken over our table with us.
“Gunny,” as they called him, became possessive of me, and kept me on the dance floor, after a dance, on the far side of the floor. His bulging muscles, and tight buns were displayed under his form fitting satin shirt, and pants.
In a deep voice, he asked; “How tall are you, girl? You can’t weight any more then my duffel bag?”
Raising my head, and trying to stand a little taller in my two and a half inch heels, I said, “I’m five foot, and a half inch tall, and one hundred, and nine pounds.”
“That is enough woman for me,” he softly said as he took my hand and lead me out the side door.
I was suddenly outside. He was leading me to a van parked in the dark rear area of the parking lot.
Thinking that he wanted to go park, kissy face, and maybe feel my tits, I was not disturbed. He opened the side door. Had me climb into the rear, which had a mattress on the floor.
Rolling me to the floor, from my bent over position, he said, “Not everybody wants to fuck, but somebody has to know how!” He was between my legs, and had my panties pushed to one side, in seconds. I felt his cock slide up my sweaty cunt lips, and then it slid , suddenly, deep into me.
That rock hard Marine begin to motor his big gun in and out of me in a way no high school boy had. I could not, “Stand firm, hold your ground,” to his assault. Each thrust into me propelled my little body forward, only to rebound back as his cock was withdrawn. Tits bounced and jiggled on each side of me.
My hands were on his back, then his shoulders, feeling the ripple of the man’s muscles, as his manhood cleaved my womanhood, time and time, again. He completely covered me with his body, so that I had to look out to one side.
When his hand roughly pawed my breast, it triggered my orgasm to wander like a pin ball through my body, until it forced my cunt to clamp his cock, and I shuddered in a sweaty, “Tilt.” Gunny responded to that by firing off six shots of white hot cum, down range, right on target.
Not wanting to leave Kim by herself, not knowing where I was, I told “Gunny,” that was his allowed ammunition for the evening.
Reluctantly, the guardian of our shores, let his target of opportunity, return to the jungle of the “Rusty Tank.”
Soon after, Kim and I went home. For the next six months we went to the “Rusty Tank,” at least once a month. In due course, every Marine in the place knew, when he saw us, that two guys would get lucky tonight, with some playtime at the Days Inn, down the street.
Then, I met Dan, a local guy from El Cajon. He was huge, standing six feet five and weighting two hundred and ten pounds. That cock of his fit me perfectly, and it seemed that he could go on all night. He had a steady job at Hanson & Brown Insurance agency. We were married two days after I turned twenty-four.
It was four years later, when I was twenty-eight, that he got so busy working ten to twelve hour days, that he lost interest in sex. I would flirt with him, and rub him all over. Kiss me , sure, but no Peter.
At a local club, one night, Kim and I were fascinated by the performance of a guy whose act was first Magic, then stand up Comedy, and then Hypnotism.
He called several people out of the audience. I volunteered. Kim told me, as I returned to my seat, that he had me sing songs, and dance with a broom. I did not remember doing either.
After he finished his act, I saw him in the hall way talking to a well dressed man. When they finished, I approached him and offered my hand saying, “Hi, I am Denise Redmond, would you have time to spend with me alone so that we can discuss something.”
With a well trained eye, he looked me over. “Sure, I would like to shower first. Come to room 1024 in twenty minutes.”
I took Kim home. Returning, a slight tap on his door was all it took for him to have it open, and let me in to his room.
Dressed, in a red silk rope, he said, “Tommy Peterson, here, what do you have in mind?”
My tale of sexual woe told, I asked; “Is there any way that you can Hypnotize my husband so as to return the sex drive and lust he had when we first were married?”
“Well, yes and no. I can only Hypnotize him if he will let me. Then, he will only do something that is morally okay with him, unless I trick him.”
“Explain.”
“Say I wanted you to give sex to a ugly man. If I told you to do that, you probably would not. But if I told you that you could not feel anything from the waist down and was on a beach sunbathing, you would lie there happy as a clam, as the ugly guy had sex with you. In the case of your husband, we would have to use what is called, “A Post Hypnotic Suggestion.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, say that I Hypnotized you several times and told you to be in “Times Square” on New Years eve. You would go there, if you could find a way, and be standing there, not having the slightest idea why you had come, on New Years eve.”
“Are you kidding me? In my case, what do you suggest?”
“Is there any way that you can get your Dan to want to be Hypnotized?”
“Golly, Tommy, the only thing that I can think of is that he is a “Prima Donna,” about his appearance, mostly his weight. He has gained forty pounds that he would like to lose. I could let him know that you could help him loose weight, if you would agree to help me?”
“Usually I won’t get involved with this sort of thing for less then an up front fee of $2,000.00. But in your case, with you needing more sex, I think that You might have a suggestion about alternate payment plays, what say?”
I had wanted for him to fuck me anyway, so it was easy for me to say, “Anytime Baby, Anytime you want some, it’s there for you!”
Tommy went to his brief case. He removed some flyers which read, “Weight reduction Hypnotic secessions for an easy, painless, way to regain your figure. $2,000.00” With a pen, Tommy wrote below the print, “Special, ten secessions for $200,00.” “Try these to see if we can get him to my studio. Now, about your deposit of good faith?”
“Isn’t that going to be your deposit?” I said with a sexy grin.” Dropping his robe to the floor, Tommy stood naked before me. I dropped my dress. The bra, and panties were discarded as I slid onto his bed. Slowly, he took me through the sexual paces, of the breeding couple, with the final being fast hard fucking on and off for the next forty five minutes.”
“Aren’t I a good person to be doing this for my Hubby?”
“There should be more like you.”
As Dan read the flyers, he told me, with authority, that he had read recently just how effective a Hypnotic weight reduction plan was. He would contact this Tommy Peterson right away because he was now up to two hundred and fifty pounds, so his clothes did not fit well, at all.
After Dan had been in for seven secessions, I spent an afternoon with Tommy doing my “Family Duty;” being fucked, royally. Between the times that his cock was roaming my passages, he told me that there were two signals that would make Dan perform as I desired. If when Dan saw me naked, and I was to pull on both of my tit nipples, he would believe that his cock would explode if he did not extinguish its heat by enclosing it in my pussy for at least an hour, with it being showered by the wetness from my orgasm at least three times.
“All Right!”
“The other signal is he believes that I, Tommy, am an angel. If he sees me, and I say “Big Black Lemon” to him, he will believe that you must have me fuck you for at least an hour, or you will deflate, like a balloon.”
“Payment Guaranteed,” I said, laughing. “You are one clever Bastard.”
I’m Softly