Hypnosis and the Happy Hippy

Sandra can resist anything but temptation at the annual office party gropefest. But in January 1978, her newly acquired libido takes her a step too far.

The characters are entirely fictional (ish). Any similarities with real people, living or dead, are entirely deliberate.

The Free Electric Band is a song written my Albert Hammond and Mike Hazlewood, preformed by Hammond. It was released in 1973 on the Epic Label.

Telephone Line was a single taken from the 1976 album A New World Record by The Electric Light Orchestra, released on United Artists label.

***

Before long, the annual drink-fuelled grope fest was upon us. I refer to the event most likely to impart feelings of shame; one most likely to create awkward glances the next day; the time when men traditionally put every effort into bedding the object of their unrequited lusts and women say fuck-the-consequence; a happening, after which said women experience difficulty looking in a mirror.

I mean, of course, the office Christmas party.

This year, the party took take place in the function room of a hotel; this was a proper hotel rather than a pub that called itself a hotel, so the room was bigger than many nightclubs. Being a hotel, this building had rooms that one could book for the night, much to the delight of some of my male colleagues.

Which is just what Charlie Femuck had done.

Office Christmas parties were never formal affairs and the clear understanding was that partners could not be invited! I turned up in my only party dress. It was a modest affair in pale blue with short angel sleeves and a handkerchief hemline at the knee. It suited me as the scoop neckline didn't show off much cleavage and none of my ample thighs could be seen; It signalled that I was not intending to cop off. A matching blue leather shoulder bag added the finishing touch.

Pamela turned up in a pair of obscenely tight black satin pants, hugging her perfect little arse, a white tied-under-the-perfect-tits blouse and a black leather bomber jacket. She emphasised her slim elegance with a pair of what looked to me like black patent leather sandals with five-inch heels I couldn't have even stood up in, let alone dance; as if she needed any more height. She looked stunning, the cow! My eyes drew themselves down to her groin, where the painted-on satin did nothing to conceal her womanhood.

"Jesus! Pam!" She could see where I was staring.

"What?"

"Those pants are showing off your fanny!"

"So?"

I couldn't help but judge. "It's obscene."

"Feels nice though. You wanna try it sometime!" Her tone was equally judgemental as she eyed my modest and, to her, boring garb.

"You're a bit on the quiet side," I said to Pam after we'd had a couple of drinks.

"What do you mean?"

"I'd have thought you'd have already picked your next conquest and would be working on him by now."

"God no!" was the surprising response. "I have to work with these morons. I'm not having them talking about me on Monday."

"Oh!" I was a bit taken aback. "So you've never, you know..."

"Not with people I have to work with. No."

"So why the fuck are you dressed like that?"

"San! I do not dress like this to attract men. I do not wear sexy clothes to announce that I'm up for a shag; I wear them because it makes me fee good. Me! You need to join me in the nineteen-seventies and stop thinking like a teenage boy."

Well, that told me. As we sat in silence for a while, I had to accept that she did have a point.

"Evening ladies!" Charlie sat down next to me, uninvited.

"Hello." I was less than enthusiastic.

"If either of you fancy going somewhere else for a bit of fun..." He dropped a large fob that had 307 inscribed onto the table. Attached was a key. "Or both of you."

"That your idea of a seduction technique?" Pam asked.

"What's that?" I pointed at the key. I was playing naïve.

"It's a room key. I booked it earlier. I think I'm going to be lucky tonight."

"Well, not at this table," piped in Pam, "So fuck off!"

"Don't beat about the bush, Pamela, love. Just say what you mean."

"I think what she means is that we aren't interested tonight." I explained.

"Or any other night, day, morning, anytime," Pamela added.

"Your loss." He pocketed the key.

The DJ changed the disc and Albert Hammond's 'Free Electric Band,' began.

"Sure I can't persuade you?" Charlie began.

"Oh, I love this song," Pam blurted out. "Let's go dance." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the dance floor.

I glanced back to see Charlie wonder off, looking dejected, to be unsuccessful somewhere else.

"Nice move," I said to Pam.

"Saved me from punching him in the face."

"You don't like him then?"

"He's a fucking creep."

"He's groped my arse a couple of times. I must say."

It became difficult to dance and talk, especially with Pam looming over me, so we concentrated on dancing and carried on through several record changes. I was enjoying it, as I got little a chance to dance those days. As ELO's 'Telephone Line' played, two guys joined in and, without invitation, began to dance.

"You're Sandra from Customer Accounts, aren't you?" One of them said to me.

"Yeah," I agreed, competing with the disco. "Are you from personnel?"

"Yeah! Roger, and he's Simon." Simon joined in, dancing with a reluctant Pam.

What puzzled me was that Pam, the stunning beauty who oozed sex appeal, and I were dancing together, but Roger chose to dance with me. He actually chose me over Pam.

"Why did you want to dance with me?" The insecure Sandra had to ask so called into his ear.

"Why not?"

"Because that," I pointed to Pam, "was dancing with me."

"But you're the fanciable one."

"What?" I didn't expect that answer.

"Because you're the one I fancy."

"But she's fucking gorgeous."

"Nah! She's vulgar. Looks like a hooker. You're the really sexy one."

"I should let you know that I'm not available. I'm not looking for sex tonight."

"So."

"So, I just wanted to make that clear."

"Okay. Don't matter. Still want to dance with you."

After a while, I said I needed a sit down and Roger joined me back at the table, leaving Pamela and Simon on the dance floor. I took a sip from my almost-empty glass as we sat down.

"Want another drink?" He asked.

"That would be nice. Thanks. But don't even think about getting me drunk."

"I won't. What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

Before he returned, Pam came back to the table and sat down.

"You're getting on well," she said.

"I hardly know him."

"So. You could be the lucky one tonight."

"I've told you, having permission doesn't mean I have to."

"Of course."

Roger returned with Simon, each carrying drinks. Roger presented me with a Traffic Light cocktail and Simon presented Pam with the same.

"Colourful," I observed.

"It's called a Traffic Light," Simon informed us.

We all chatted, and the lads bought us more drinks. Neither seemed to expect anything in return and we made sure they knew we had boyfriends to reinforce what I'd said to Roger. We all enjoyed each other's company, and having them around meant that the office predators kept away.

Roger dragged me up to the dance floor when 'I Love to Boogie' began, reminding me that I'd said I was a Marc Bolan fan. I was tipsy by this time and was feeling rather sexy, but I was on my guard. I was looking forward to jay getting home later.

We jived to the music until it ended and Roger threw his arms around me and said it was the best fun he'd had in a long time. The warmth of being in another man's arms again radiated from my core. Jay always made me feel wanted and sexy, but there is just something about another man wrapped around you that somehow validated it more.

"Just remember what I said," I reminded him. He nodded.

As if planned, 'When I Need You' began; Leo Sayer's slow dance song. Without letting go, Roger danced with me and, almost immediately, I imagined I felt his manhood stiffening against my stomach. As much as this flattered me, I nudged him back. He looked at me, puzzled, but I continued to dance with him.

"It's flattering." I looked down at his bulge. "But, as I said, I'm not looking for a shag tonight."

"No. No," he flustered. "Sorry, it's just..."

I licked my finger and touched it to his face, making a sizzling sound, indicating I could see his embarrassment. We both laughed and bumped heads.

As we continued to dance, Roger moved his right hand to my shoulder and caressed it. It felt good. Then he moved to my bare arm and stroked the flesh, sending those, now all too familiar, and often unwanted, tingles down my body to the seat of my sex. Squeezing the tops of my thighs together, I ried to resist. Not a straightforward thing to do while dancing, but my fires were smouldering.

I lasted until the end of the dance. "I need to sit down," I informed him, and walked back to our table. Roger insisted on buying another drink. I insisted on a soft drink. He obliged.

We sat for a while, Pam and Simon returned and we tried to talk over the music. It wasn't easy, but we managed. We even exchanged some jokes before the boys bought another round of drinks.

I asked for another cocktail, as did Pam. They returned with trays full of drinks.

"Bar's a bit crowded," Simon explained.

"So we doubled up to save a trip. I drank the first one a little too quickly and took just a couple of sips from the second one.

We wandered back to the dance floor. Well, I wanted to make the most of it. The attention gave me a warm feeling in my torso, rather than my genitals. I didn't want to shag this man, but I enjoyed his company. He'd make a great pal.

"You are fantastic company," Roger said into my ear, "and so incredibly sexy."

"Told you, don't get any ideas."

"I won't. I'll just be thinking of you later, when I'm home, alone."

"Doing what?" Shit! Where did that come from? It was quite a bold question for someone I didn't know.

"What do you think?"

My cheeks warmed to the point of burning. I was grateful for the low lighting. The warmth crept down my chest and I could feel those tingles down below. "Sorry. That was rude of me."

"Don't be." He pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back like a brother might, then let me go. I was still blushing.

"Can't imagine why you think I'm sexy."

"Well, apart from your stunning looks, you're funny and kind. You speak softly and affectionately. Your voice really tuns me on."

"That's probably the nicest thing a stranger has ever said to me."

He reached for my biceps and was holding them before I could step back. "Surely, not a stranger."

He stroked both sides and a tidal wave of arousal flooded be body. My voice pitched an octave higher. "Still don't get those ideas."

"I still won't, but I really have to do this."

"What?"

He leaned over me and planted a kiss on my mouth, still caressing my bare arms. My knickers were rapidly dampening. I had to stop this. I pushed him away. "That, sir, is going too far!"

"I'm sorry, but I've been wanting to do that all night."

I stared up at him. "Ever heard of asking first?"

"Yes. Sorry. I thought you might like it?" His eyes were glistening, almost tearful at the thought of offending me.

"I can't make it any clearer."

Those apologetic eyes delved into mine, touching my soul. I stepped closer. "I'm not having sex tonight. Well, not with you, anyway."

We stared into each other's eyes for an age, his apologising, mine sternly making my point. Reaching up, I grabbed his face.

"Got the message?" I asked.

He nodded between my hands.

"Well then," I pulled his head down and locked his lips to mine. Sliding my hands over his shoulders, I pulled him closer. His hands returned to my shoulders as I felt his cock straining against my abdomen. As if he knew my secret, his left hand slid down and caressed the top of my arm again. Someone poured some very flammable fuel onto my fire. I pulled my face from his.

"On the other hand," I said and leaned into another kiss. He responded appropriately and moved his hand to my breast, sending more fuel down below. I grabbed it and moved it to my hip. "Not here," I said.

He shrugged and looked puzzled. I thought for a moment and an idea flashed.

"Go sit down," I said. He looked a little dejected. "Don't worry, I'll be back."

***

Still tingling, I understate, still burning in my knickers, I slipped out to the toilet to empty my bladder. Even my pee burned in a sexy, spreading-the-urge way. As I wiped dry and dropped the toilet paper in the pan, my fingers lingered over my now throbbing nub of erectile tissue. The urge to rub almost took over, but I'd been touched in the secret zones, so only a cock would satisfy me completely.

Could I, I wondered to myself? I reached across and stroked my arm. Yes, I certainly could. I wished I hadn't. Before the urge grew too strong, I jumped up from the toilet, flushed and left the Ladies' Room. Of course I washed my hands!

Floating into the function room, I caught sight of Charlie and a couple of his pals near the dance floor, eying up the talent. I plotted my move, but hesitated. I couldn't go through with this, could I? My burning fanny shouted at me, yes you can! And you will.

Fuck it!

I sidled up to Charlie and led him to the dance floor. It was another slow dance.

"Changed your mind, then?"

"Not exactly," I replied, and slipped my hand into his pocket. He didn't notice. "I see you haven't got lucky yet."

"The night is young, Mon Amie. The night is young."

"Well, I have." I pulled out the key. "So I'm borrowing this." I left him alone on the dance floor, staring at me.

Walking back to Roger, I dropped the key into my handbag and slipped it over my shoulder. Downing the rest of my drink, I grinned at Pam, who had just returned from the floor with Simon. I led Roger back to the dance floor.

"I thought you'd abandoned me," he said, as we danced.

"No. Just needed a piss."

"Then you danced with him," He pointed at Charlie.

"Him? No, I just needed a favour."

"What was that?"

"Shut up and dance." I pulled him in.

His hand went straight to my arm and let it dance up and down. My knees shot forward, and I dipped.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," I squeaked as I straightened up. "What have you been told about me?" I was thinking about the agreement and suspected Pam. Or did he know about my recently-programmed erogenous ones? How? Who else even knew?

"Nothing at all! I just find you incredibly sexy. You haven't got a reputation, have you?"

"No, I have not!" Not yet, I thought as I grabbed his arm and moved it away from mine. His hand wandered back to my breast; this time, I left it there. It was naughty, almost obscene, letting a man I had just met fondle me. Still tingling down below from the arm stroking, I dropped my hand to his groin and found his stiffening and, evidently, large penis. I almost gasped.

"I've got a room key," I whispered into his ear.

"What?" He said, incredulous.

I slipped my hand into my bag and pulled out the key and place it in his hand. He examined the key and the fob, then my face.

"Want to join me?" I took back the key and slipped it into my bag.

"Hell, yeah!" He was nothing if not enthusiastic.

"What are we waiting for, then?" I led him by the hand, winking at Pamela as we hurried past.

"It's on the third floor," I said as we stopped in the foyer. "There's a lift down this corridor."

Roger pulled back the concertina gates on the lift and ushered me in. Closing them after him, he pressed the button for the third floor. Not wanting to twiddle his thumbs for the next forty-five seconds, he pushed me against the side wall and kissed me. I glanced to the side and spotted us in the mirror. It was even more exciting watching as I kissed a stranger in a hotel elevator. He put his hand up my skirt and found the damp crotch of my panties. I was on the verge when the lift stopped.

We hurried down the corridor and soon found room seven. I opened the dark lacquered door and felt around for a light switch, finding a brass toggle. The light illuminated a room that was the height of luxury for a poor working-class girl like me. The chintz curtains had been pulled all the way back and framed the panelled sash windows. A brocade counterpane covered the king-sized bed and the bright red carpet was so plush our feet left footprints. I could tell this was a posh hotel as there was an en-suite bathroom.

"Ah! Toilet. I need a piss." Roger headed to the bathroom.

It's amazing how alcohol prevents the brain from processing thoughts before words fall out of the mouth. "Ooh! Can I watch?" Too late. I couldn't take the words back.

"Certainly, gorgeous," He replied, surprising the hell out of me.

I could not to miss an opportunity like this. The toilet faced the door, so Roger's shapely arse was pointing at me as I followed him in. Unzipping his trousers, he sort of curtsied as he released the python. I leaned over to look around him. A 'fuck-me' almost escaped from my lips as I looked down on the biggest cock I'd ever seen in real life. Roger was most definitely better endowed than Jay or any of my other priors. Not something I'd ever bothered about before, because it's not the cock that does the deed, but the man behind it. However, it was massive, and I was intrigued. No, I was enthralled.

With none of the shyness of Jay's bladder, a pale golden torrent poured into the toilet bowl. I moved aside. The better to get an eyeful of this wonderful specimen. As I did, I reached around to take hold of the hose. Surprised, Roger cast a glance at me; I looked up and smiled, and he let go of his manhood, allowing me to point Percy at the porcelain in my style. His arm slid around my shoulder. Hell! I thought, if only Jay could do this.

With my index and middle fingers just behind his covered frenulum and my thumb on top, I applied just enough pressure to feel the power of the turbulent urine flowing down his urethra. The spongy tissue was filling with blood, thickening his already substantial tool. This is the point at which most men would involuntarily stop pissing. Not so with Roger; he just carried on filling the toilet with his golden stream, as I had to push down to keep the aim straight.

This was the sexiest thing I had done in a long time.

As Roger finished, I felt his manhood pulse between my fingers as he squeezed the last few millilitres out, twice, three times, four times. I'm sure he was doing it just because it aroused me.

His flow stopped, and I shook for him. Keeping hold, I brushed my fingers down to his pubes and brushed up to the head of his growing and twitching phallus, taking his foreskin with them. A last drop of piss dripped as I squeezed his glans between my thumb and first two digits. I repeated the action; each time, his manliness twitched and grew until it was as manly as it should be.

"That was so fucking sexy!" The words tumbled out on their own.

"It was pretty fucking nice for me as well." He agreed.

I put my arm around him and drew him in for a kiss. We locked lips, and I glided my hand along his silky-smooth his erection. I couldn't help but wonder if that monster was going to fit inside of my tight fanny; well, I had been exercising those muscles recently. I was certainly going to have fun finding out.

Without breaking the kiss, Roger flushed the toilet and pushed me back into the room toward the bed. As the back of my knees touched the mattress, I fell back onto the brocade counterpane and looked up. Roger was still standing. I couldn't help a little giggle because I always think men look funny, fully dressed with an erection, massive or otherwise, jutting out from an open fly.

I lay there, legs dangling over the edge of the bed, and watched as Roger peeled off his shirt. His almost bald chest and stomach rippled with muscles I'd never seen on a real man. He let his trousers and underwear fall to the floor and stepped out of them, revealing the legs of a runner. He went to climb on the bed.