Gifted Book 1 SilenceChapter 5 Will
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Gifted Grifter Ch. 02 free porn video
Gifted Grifter #2: The Traveling Salesgirl
I was anxious to take advantage of the possibilities I was afforded by my new mind-reading machine, but I had promised my student assistant, Jessie, that I wouldn’t quit my job at the Department of Defense until she finished collecting her dissertation data. I didn’t want to get screwed over by my leaving before she was done, especially after the great sex we had.
She had asked for three weeks to finish up, part of the deal was that we agreed not to have any further sexual relations until I was no longer her boss. The weekend after the third week, I had made arrangements to stay at my family’s cottage in the lake country north of the city, thinking I might take Jessie (who had recently dumped her loser boyfriend) up with me. But on Thursday of the third week, Jessie told me that she wasn’t quite done yet, it was going to take her until the following Tuesday or Wednesday at least before she could wrap it up. That was fine, I wasn’t really surprised, but it meant I was going up to the cottage alone. I was a little disappointed, but I had spent a lot of good times up at that cottage, if nothing else I would get some nice relaxation. But I tossed my mind-reading hat into the car, just in case.
I arrived late Friday night. I turned on the main power switch and started airing out the musty smell that accumulates when the cottage goes unused for a week or two. I opened the liquor cabinet and saw that we were quite low on Canadian Club, my drink of choice. I poured a couple of drinks with the diet Sierra Mist I had brought along, gazed at the stars, listened to my IPod a bit, and went to sleep.
I slept in late Saturday morning, so the noise of outboard motors revving up to tow water skiers was already echoing across the lake when I got up. I looked out the windows and saw a couple of boats pulling skiers, and a couple more towing inner tubes, running in circles around the lake. It was hard to tell from as far away as I was, but it looked like at least one of the skiers was a shapely young woman in a teeny bikini, at least I hoped it was a woman, I was going to have to be careful not to start hitting on underage teens around here. Either way, it seemed that the best course of action was to head to the beach with my hat and see what I might find.
I went back inside to look for some breakfast, and realized that besides drinking up the CC the night before I had no milk or breakfast food, whoever had last been at the cottage hadn’t left much behind for the next person. I was going have to run to Poser’s right away that morning for supplies.
Poser’s was the center of activity in the lakes region. There were three lakes in close proximity, with a major highway intersection between them, and right on that corner was Poser’s. It had started out as just a gas station and mini-mart, but the family that built it had the foresight to buy all of the other available frontage at the intersection. Thus assured that no competition sprung up nearby, and with the next town of any size 20 miles away, they had done very well with their mini-monopoly on the region. Poser’s was now a mini-grocery store, liquor store, video store, bait shop, and boat shop all in one. Thus, anyone that needed anything went to Poser’s, and most of the time they would have what you wanted. Whether you wanted to pay the price they were charging for it was sometimes another matter.
I had to dress to go to the store, of course, and was planning to come back and change for the beach. I don’t really like running around in a swim suit when I’m not at the lake, however, so I grabbed my clothes from the day before, which were still lying around the cottage, and threw them on to run to Poser’s. What happened next only came to be because, by chance of laziness, I was not dressed like someone who was about to spend their day at the beach.
I drove to Poser’s and parked my car. I had been listening to my IPod through my car’s stereo system—no good radio stations in the middle of nowhere—and so I stopped to unhook my equipment before running in to the store. As I was pulling wires, I became aware of a red Grand Prix pulling up in the spot next to me. I looked over and saw that the driver was a young female, with blonde hair cut right to shoulder length, wearing a long-sleeved blouse made from a silky-like material. She wasn’t dressed for the beach, either.
She opened her door and got up, but rather than walking in she lingered by her open door and started fumbling for something in the back seat of her car. I saw now that she was wearing a tight, pencil skirt that ended a good six inches above her knees. And because her skirt was so short, I noticed her thighs—her thighs were REALLY skinny. She had to be really young—no more than 22 or 23 I figured—because thighs that straight and thin are extremely rare, and most of the girls that have them are really young and haven’t fully grown into their adult/post-childbirth bodies yet (fortunately).
Then I figured out what she was doing, she had driven the car wearing comfortable flip-flops, but now was putting on heels before proceeding into the store. She had to be there on business of some sort, I thought. A girl that young, driving around in the middle of nowhere, my guess was that she was a traveling sales rep. It was the kind of job that a girl might take right after graduating from college, needing to start somewhere, and abandon as soon as a better job came along. It was only weeks after most colleges held their commencements, in might very well be her first month on the job. And she was so skinny and cute, my mouth was beginning to water.
Remember my hat, which I had conveniently left on the passenger seat of my car, I donned my mindreading machine and looked over in her direction. I quickly learned that she was working for the alcohol distributor that supplied Poser’s, and was going to meet with someone named Frank to try to talk them into picking up a new designer malt beverage they were selling. I also saw that she had three more stops to make that day, even though it was Saturday, and that she was none to happy about it.
Impulsively, I got out of my car and waved in her direction.
‘Hey, you look like you’re working too,’ I said. ‘Are you supposed to be meeting with Ed now, too?’
She turned towards the sound, not expecting that someone would be talking to her, and with her second heel still not completely on right. ‘No, I’m here to talk to Frank’ she said. I could feel her curiosity as to who or what I was, but she was being careful, being a woman traveling alone.
‘Frank, is that the liquor guy?’ I asked. ‘I’m Rick’, I lied, ‘with Lakeside sports, we’re the bait and lure supplier.’ Damn, I thought, this could be bad. Yeah, it’s plausible that a bait salesman might be here, but I don’t know very much about fishing and I certainly couldn’t be sure that any other places on her list would sell any. I wasn’t sure I could keep this story up. I definitely HAD to remember that I had told her that my name was Rick (it isn’t).
‘Hi,’ she said, slamming her door and walking around to the front of the car, waiting for me to come alongside before walking in. She was thinking she would rather go in with someone else than have to initiate contact in the store alone. ‘I’m Lauren from Northwoods Distributing. We supply beer, wine, and liquor.’
‘Ooh, excellent,’ I laughed, ‘I bet you get much better samples than I do!’
‘Not so much,’ she laughed back, ‘I can sell it, but I can’t drink on the job!’
We walked in together chatting breezily. She went to the service counter to meet with Frank, I excused myself and headed over to the fishing section, saying I was looking for Ed. I saw her go to a back area with Frank, at which point I ducked into the fishing aisle, picked up a couple of colorful-looking lures and a pocket knife, and quickly paid for them at the back register. These would serve as my samples. Then I wand
ered out to the main floor, and nonchalantly poured myself a cup of coffee from the self-service bar—which was strategically placed just in front of the door. A few minutes later she came back out, shook hands with Frank and started heading out.
I headed for the checkout line, and called out ‘Hey Lauren, can I buy you a cup of coffee?’
She may have forgotten about me, I could see her thoughts were about her next stop, 15 miles away in a place called Northport (not its real name, either). But she stopped when she heard me. My hat told me that she had felt less uncomfortable initiating the cold call when she was with another, she thought, sales rep, again, probably meant this job was new to her.
‘No, thanks,’ she said, ‘I’ve had two already today. Any luck with Ed?’
‘Not so much,’ I said, pulling a lure out of my pocket, ‘He said they don’t have shelf space for my new Red Jigglers.’ That sounded like a lure name, didn’t it? I just hoped that the checkout girl minded her own business and didn’t expose my bullshit. She did. I paid for my coffee and I walked out with her.
‘I’ve been doing this circuit for five years now,’ I lied, ‘so let me guess, you’re next stop is Northport…’ I paused while her brain responded, as I had hoped, it gave away the next stops on her itinerary, ‘then Big Marsh, and finally Culvers City, right?’
She looked at me dumbfounded, and stammered ‘What..how…’
‘I’m telling ya, Lauren, it doesn’t matter if you’re selling snow plows or cigarettes, it’s the same route.’ I kept laying it on, ‘These towns out here are so spread out, it’s the only way that makes sense to hit ’em without backtracking 20 miles out of your way every time.’
‘Really,’ she asked innocently, ‘everyone runs the same route?’ Her mind retraced the route she had taken the day before.
‘Yup, just like—‘ and I repeated back the route she had thought about from her previous day. ‘All the same.’
We were by our cars now, and I could tell that she was interested in any other wisdom I might have to impart on how this traveling sales gig worked. I hoped I could lie well enough long enough to pull it off.
‘Tell you what…with gas over three bucks a gallon, and you probably have to head back over this way anyway, why don’t we carpool the last three stops.’ I said. ‘I’m sure you’re smart enough not to get into a car with a man you don’t know, so I’ll let you drive. What do you say?’
Her thoughts told me that she actually wouldn’t have had to stop back over this way, because she lived in Evans Point, but it also told me that she really wanted to know any inside tips that I could give her on how to service her territory. And she figured that if she was driving, she wouldn’t be in any danger…unless I had a gun of something.
‘Umm, how do I know you are who you say? Can I see your card?’ she asked.
Uh oh. Of course I didn’t have a card. I laughed as convincingly as I could ‘A card? Lady, you obviously don’t know anything about fishing guys. I used to give them all cards, and they all just went into the wastebasket. You gotta get to know ’em by name, then they remember you. A business card is just too office-like, and a lot of these guys left office jobs to run these little shops and go fishing as much as possible.’ I put my arms up in the air like I was under arrest. ‘But you’re smart to ask. You’re welcome to search me if you like,’ I smiled, then reached into my pocket and pulled out the knife, saying ‘All I’m carrying is my fishing knife.’
She was a little nervous, but I was doing a good job of portraying the down-home quality she expected of a fishing lure salesman, and feeling confident because she was driving—and realizing that I hadn’t expected to run into her, either—she decided to let me ride along with her.
As she drove, I made up stories about selling lures in the region while subtly probing for information. One thing you should understand about how brains work: your brain stores all sorts of ideas, which have connections of varying strengths to each other. When you activate one idea, you usually see activation of ideas closely related to it. That’s why you can’t tell a child having nightmares to not think about the bogeyman, saying so reactivates the concepts associated with bogeymen. You need to tell them to think about something else, preferably something specific, for them to start thinking differently.
It also so happens that language activates ideas, which means that you can evoke certain thoughts by asking certain questions. For instance, if you ask a girl any question about her boyfriend, she will involuntarily also think those concepts that most closely associated with boyfriend. If the word boyfriend leads to thoughts of love, marriage, and kids, I’m wasting my time. A lot of girls, however, even if they love their boyfriends, harbor some degree of belief that they can do better. My success often depends on whether I am able to exploit that belief.
Over the next hour and a half, I learned a lot about her, some of it she volunteered, some of it I picked up using my mindreader. I learned that she had indeed just graduate from college, that she had had a boyfriend in college but right now they were in different cities and their future prospects weren’t good, that she was living alone, that one of the reasons she had taken this job was because she loved water skiing and this kept her close to the lakes, and that she had hoped to finish up her runs by 1:00 in the afternoon so she could go waterskiing with some friends of hers that had a boat, in fact, she was already wearing her swimsuit under her business clothes! Unfortunately for her, it was 1:30 when we finished the last stop of the day, and she still had to take me back to my car over at Poser’s.
She excused herself and called someone on her cell phone, using my mindreader I discerned that her friends were anxious to get going to another lake and didn’t want to wait another 45 minutes to an hour for her to join them. She was very disappointed at not getting to ski today.
She didn’t talk much as she began to drive me back.
‘So you’re a skier, huh?’ I asked, building on something she had said earlier in the day.
‘Yeah, I was hoping to go today, but these stops took too long,’ she said. ‘My friends left without me.
‘That’s too bad,’ I said, ‘but these stops always take too long. Rule number one: it will always take you an hour longer than you think it should to do a circuit.’ I paused for a moment as if I was thinking. ‘It’s too bad you don’t have your suit with you, I could tow you with my boat.’
I could see her interest piqued. ‘You have a ski boat?’ she asked.
‘Well, it’s my uncle’s, really. He has a cottage on the lake right over by Poser’s, I usually live in Middleton’ I lied ‘but I am staying up at the family cottage this weekend. There’s a nice ski boat up there, I used to drive while my cousins skied all the time.’ That part was at least half true, which is why my car had a hitch on the back.
She was thinking that we probably didn’t have a swivel ski and release line, since most people don’t, so my offer wasn’t that compelling—but she was wrong. ‘My one cousin used to ski in the show, I would always drive her while she practiced her swiveling.’ That was half-true—I had sometimes done the release line, but someone else was always driving.
Now she was thinking. She would normally have at most a half-hour of time on the swivel when sharing turns with friends. Here, she could possible swivel for the whole afternoon—if we had the ski.
‘I swivel, too. Do you have a swivel ski?’ She asked.
I told her the truth: ‘I would think so, my cousin lives on the coast now and only skis when she’s here. All the other skis are kept in the shed, I don’t know why that one wouldn’t be.’
‘Well…actually…’ she was thinking that she would tell me she had her suit on, but starting to feel a little adventurous after all the
risk she was taking with a man she just met, she instead loosed a few buttons of her shirt and pulled it open to flash me a glimpse of her suit. ‘I’m wearing my suit right now.’ She glanced over at me with a little smile on her face—in part, to see how I reacted to her flashing me her bikini.
I was suitably impressed. I was getting her to trust me, but I wasn’t getting her to like me yet. This was my chance.
‘Well, why didn’t you say so,’ I said. ‘I wasn’t gonna put the boat in just for myself, but I’d love to have someone to tow. I’ll get my car, we’ll go get my boat, you can help me put the boat in, and you can ski until you can’t stand up anymore.’
Her love of skiing, plus a little anger at her fickle friends, outweighed her common sense, and so that’s exactly what we did. Because it was easier to have two people doing it, one to drive the boat off the trailer while the other backed up the car, it was easy to convince her to jump into my car while we went to get the boat. In her excitement, she wasn’t thinking ahead to possibly being stranded later.
I hitched up the boat and quickly changed while she loaded up ski gear. Then I drove to the launch, and got ready to back the boat in. She stripped off her work clothes to reveal a tiny bikini, with bright colored stripes at a funny angle. Her breasts weren’t very big, which I had expected, but she was wonderfully skinny, her thighs were amazing, and her flat belly and curved waistline were wonderful too. I parked the car, got into the boat, and hooked up a line.
She started with regular skis first to warm up. I could tell right away she was GOOD. After a half-hour we switched to swivel. This required a lot more work on my part, to swivel, you hook the tow rope onto your foot, which means if you fall you will get dragged by the boat. Thus, you have a release on the line itself, but as the driver I had to be both watching where I was going with the boat and watching backwards to know when to release the line. But the payoff was having a legitimate reason to stare at Lauren in her tiny bikini all afternoon.
She swiveled for almost three hours, which is an amazing feat of stamina. Even if you don’t fall a lot, you get really beaten up in the water. At last she was too tired to continue, and I helped her into the boat.
I gave her a hug when she came on board, even though she was wet, and said ‘You were great! You must have been doing this for a long time.’
My hat told me she was a little taken aback by the hug, but was eating up my compliments. That was fine, I had broken the first ground.
‘Come on, I’ll grill us up some dinner,’ I said. She was starving from being in the water that long, so she didn’t even protest. She helped me pull the boat out of the water, then we went back to my cottage and I started the grill.
She had grabbed a ski bag from her car when we switched cars, and from it she produced some dry clothes to wear. She went into the bathroom and took a quick shower, then came out wearing a green halter top and black shorts, plus flip-flops. With her wet hair combed straight back, and her shapely waist and belly out in the open, she was really hot.
She came out and leaned on the railing to talk to me while I grilled some chicken breasts. I had poured two CC and soda while she was in the shower, and now gave her one, saying ‘Have you ever tasted Canadian Club?’
‘I don’t usually like whiskey,’ she said, refusing it.
‘Well of course you don’t, if you haven’t had Canadian Club. Nothing else is worth drinking. Try it, I even made it with diet soda.’
She was very thirsty, and I wasn’t offering her anything else, so she took a sip. I could tell with my hat that it wasn’t her favorite, but she it did taste much better than whiskeys she’d had before and could at least drink it. Being that thirsty didn’t hurt, I’m sure. And if she was unfamiliar with drinking whisky, she wouldn’t realize how fast it could get her drunk. I did.
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