Homme Improvement (mm hypno oral)

The following story is a work of fiction. The characters portrayed within are a work of fiction as well, and any resemblance to any person, living or dead is a coincidence and unintentional.

Copyright © 2003. This story is the property of the author O'Melissokomos. Any duplication, in whole or in part, is forbidden without the express written consent of the author.

For Thom.

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Home at last. Man, what a day. It was a good thing my apartment building was within walking distance from the university. That meant I could stay longer hours in the library researching for my graduate school thesis, but even my studiousness had its limits. If I had to read one more word about psychosociology, I would gone loco. Better to go back to my pad and recharge my batteries. After all a wise man once said, "He who fights and runs away, lives to fight another day."

As I was making my way up the stairwell to my floor, I was busy thinking about the lecture I wanted to attend tomorrow until my attention was diverted by someone sitting in the corner of the hallway. It was a man wearing sleeveless black T and a pair of faded denim jeans. His carrot-topped head was between his arms that were propped on his knees. He must have heard me coming because he looked up and called out, "Hey, Lou... zat you?"

Oh great. It was my neighbor's boyfriend, Garrett, and it looked like he and Jenny had another screaming match or else he wouldn't be out here waiting for me. He'd done this before a couple of times already, and the two usually made up (and made out) the morning after. Thank God I only had to put up with him one night at a time.

"Yes, it's me, Garrett. You need a place a crash tonight?" I pulled out my keys from my pocket and opened the door to my apartment.

"Shorry 'bout *hic* thish..." he said, trying to stand up rather unsuccessfully. "Jenny'sh kicked me out..."

And for good reason, I thought. Garrett was soused to the gills, and he absolutely reeked of alcohol, which I detested. Come to think of it, he was always drunk whenever he came over. I sighed, and against my better judgement, I helped him up from the floor and led him inside. I closed the door behind me and watched him wearily trudge his way to my couch as he peeled off his shirt and kicked off his shoes before collapsing on the cushions. My sensitive nostrils were attacked by a powerful whiff of Eau de Whisky that exuded from his alabaster skin. There was hardly any question what his fight with Jenny was all about.

"Jeez Garrett, you spent the entire day drinking again, didn't you? When are you going to start looking for a job? You're what, 20, and...?"

"Man, lay off me, OK Louie? I already got enough shit today from Jenny," he barked, reaching for his cigarette pack in his back pocket.

Huh, some gratitude, and I hated it when he called me "Louie." It made me feel like a twelve-year-old. Furthermore, I wanted to say something like "You know, those cigs can kill you," but I decided that in his inebriated state, Garrett could very well end up killing me instead if I opened my trap and pissed him off any more.

As I learned from Jenny, he couldn't afford to go to college, and even though he was a first-class athlete, his grades weren't good enough for a scholarship, and so for the past two years he'd been working full-time at some company downtown. Unfortuntely, that was when he developed his drinking problem, which became the reason for his eventual termination over six months ago. Ever since then, he'd been depressed for being unable to land another job, and the vicious cycle continued.

I, on the other hand, had been able to afford both university and graduate school thanks to the trust fund my parents set up for me before they died. When I got accepted into my program of choice, Psychology, I went cross-country and relocated here to my new home where I became a neighbor to Jenny whose relationship with Garrett primarily revolved around sex. (Believe me, I could hear them from across the hall more often than I care to remember.)

I still had no idea how we even became acquainted or even "friends" for that matter. As far as I was concerned, she was only this slut who happened to be fucking this former jock just for the fun of it. Things turned for the worse when he lost his job and had to rely on Jenny for board and lodging. In a way, I felt sorry for him. He really was quite the looker with his handsome Irish features especially with that small scruffy peach-colored goatee that never left his jaw. He could do much better than her, but what the hell could I do? He was crazy for her.

I took off my jacket and placed it over my BoxFlex. I coughed at the smoke he had been exhaling but was glad to see him quiet down a bit. Considering how drunk he was tonight, I was surprised to see him still able to smoke without the cigarette butt missing his mouth. I sat down beside him and asked, "You feeling better, Garrett?"

"Yuh," came the one-syllabic reply after he expelled another puff of smoke, which I quickly fanned away from my face.

"That's good," I said as I wondered what I was going to do with him. Whenever he was like this, he usually took forever to doze off. And I certainly didn't want him to be smoking all night; I wouldn't be able to sleep with all the fumes wafting throughout my apartment. (Yes, it already happened before, much to my chagrin and utter discomfort.) Fuck, I couldn't tell him to stop; he'd tear me a new one, but I was way tired, and I really needed to get some rest. I had another long day tomorrow.

Wait. Hmmm... this was long shot, but what choice did I have? I never had done anything close to this before. I mean, sure, I'd seen my professor demonstrate it a lot of times in class. Oh hell. Only one way to find out how good I was at hypnosis: I had to do it myself. I changed my position on the couch and started speaking in the way I thought I ought to--nice and slow. This was going to be tricky.

"Can I ask you a question, Garrett?" I began. "How long have you been smoking?"

"What'sh it to you?" He lifted his head and looked at me rather annoyed.

"No, really. I just want to know," I said reassuringly.

He took some time before answering. He then put his head back on the couch and said, "Five years."

I nodded. "Five years, huh? That was a long time ago. Guess it must be second-nature to you by now."

"Yuh, I guesh."

"I suppose that you do it to get rid of stress."


"Yeah, that must be it. 'Cause you're looking pretty calm right now. Gosh, it's like you're blowing away all the problems you had today. I can see why you like it so much."

He replied with a grunt, which I took for a 'yes'. He was halfway through his cigarette, and I had no intention of letting him have another one.

"No need to rush, Garrett. Just breathe normally. There we go. Inhale. Hold it for a sec... then exhale. Inhale... then exhale. You're doing a good job, Garrett. It's like every time you breathe out, you're becoming more and more relaxed."

I could see my impromptu induction--coupled with his state of drunkenness--was having the desired effect. His eyes had become glassy and unfocused, and he was moving much more slowly. I was getting a bit excited, but I couldn't let my excitement overwhelm my concentration.

"Yes Garrett, smoking has always been soothing for you. You can feel your body losing tension, and your eyes you can hardly keep open. Your arms are becoming heavier and heavier, but you want to keep smoking, and the more you smoke, the heavier your arms become. Put the cigarette in your mouth and leave it there so you don't have to move any more. You feel so serene, so peaceful. You want to close your eyes; you can if you want to. It's all right. Don't worry about anything. Just breathe in, and breathe out. Let the smoke carry all your worries away."

His cigarette had burned almost all the way to the filter, and I carefully picked it off his lips. He didn't even notice. He could barely keep his eyelids open. He was at that point between consciousness and unconsciousness, and it was time to take him all the way down.

"Garrett, I'm going to count backwards from ten to one, and at every number, you will become more and more relaxed. It's as if you're going down a flight of stairs that leads you to a safe and comfortable place. At the same time, you feel start losing your ability to make your own decisions, and that just makes you happier knowing that you can just let go of your responsibilities. When I reach 'one', you will be completely relaxed and obedient. Is that clear?"

His head nodded up and down ever so slightly, and I began my countdown.

"Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven."

His response was amazing. I didn't even have to guide him with additional instructions. His breathing progressively slackened after each count, and he seemed to melt into the couch.

"Six. Five. Four."

Deeper and deeper he went. His head was all the way down to his chest; his arms stopped shaking as if pinned down by lead weights.

"Three. Two. One."

His half-naked body slid down the couch. My six-foot-two stud was totally out, and unless an earthquake hit or a meteor came crashing through my roof, he wasn't going to snap of this trance.

Damn if he didn't look gorgeous sleeping right there beside me. What was it about passed out men that turned me on so much? I wouldn't know about anybody else, but at least for me, I loved the fact that these big, strong, macho guys were actually vulnerable. That for all their vaunted masculinity, they still slept like babies. Well, baby boys with big baskets anyway.

It was strange, but until now I never really thought of Garrett in an erotic manner. In fact, this was the first time I'd ever seen him this close, and I had to admit I didn't know what I was missing. Even though it was evident that he had let himself go since graduating high school (he had beginnings of a beer gut forming around his once-tight torso), he still had that natural jock's build: muscular, sleek and athletic. The lack of exercise might have loosened the definition of his arms and chest, though not as much, I suspected, as the strength within them. He definitely was no gym bunny; however, I wouldn't mind him to make the most of what he had got. I liked my men built and buffed, but that was something I kept to myself.

Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it), no one suspected I was gay, nor had I ever given them any reason to do so. Since my big move to the city, I'd limited my "philanthropic" forays (wink, wink) to the occasional porn site. Nothing serious. I was far too busy with my studies to get involved in a relationship that would have been doomed to disaster anyway. (I'd had my share of bad break-ups, thank you very much.) But right now, Garrett had my homosexual tendencies going on overdrive.

(Whoa there, cowboy. This was Garrett we're talking about here. You know, *Jenny's* Garrett?) Well, it doesn't hurt to look does it? (Mm-hmm, you were thinking of doing a little bit more than looking, Louie.) Fine time for you to decide to pop up Mr. Conscience, but, do me me a favor and go screw yourself. (Ah, fuck you.)

My eyes drank down Garrett from head to toe, and I was intoxicated with his smell. Who knew when I was going to be able to get him under again? Furthermore, I really doubted I was going to get the guts to do this the next time he "slept over." It was now or never.

"Garrett, can you hear me?" I said not too loudly.

His response came in a heavy whisper. "Y-yes."

"Very good. You are in a trance, a very deep trance, and you will listen to and do exactly what I will say. Is that understood?"


"For starters, I want you to sit up properly and open your eyes, but you will remain asleep. You will not wake up, you will just open your eyes, and when you do, you will imagine Jenny sitting beside you, ok? You won't see me at all. Everything--from the way I look to the way I sound--will be Jenny's."


"Also, whenever 'Jenny' touches you, you will become aroused. The longer she keeps her hands on you, the hornier you'll get. You're going to want to ask her to help you out, but you're going to have to ask her nicely because you can't cum until she gets your cock in her mouth. You will be able to move although you won't be able to stand up, but that's ok. You're so comfortable sitting there that you wouldn't want to anyway."


"And lastly, when I say 'Bottom's up' you will return to this trance which you like so much. In fact, each time you hear it will bring you five times deeper than before. That's every time, no questions asked."


"Very good. Now, open your eyes Garrett."

It took a while for his consciousness to reassert its control over his body, but not all the way. His eyes slowly blinked, and when he could see more clearly, he looked around the room till he saw me--or rather Jenny--beside him.

"Hey, baby," he said with a smile. He bent towards me to kiss me, but I quickly placed my hand on his thigh, and almost immediately, the front of his jeans swelled. He stopped, looked down at his growing package and looked back at me half-embarrassed. He tried shifting his seated position to alleviate some of the pressure, but he couldn't get his butt of the couch, and I kept my hand right where it was ensuring his arousal to escalate.

"Uh, Jenny," he moaned.

"Yes? What is it, honey?" I replied in a sweet, innocent tone.

"S-shit, I mean, I'm, I'm s-sorry for fighting w-w-with you earlier..."

Oooh, an apology. And he looked like he meant it too. "I'm sorry too, Garrett. I know things haven't been easy for us, but I really wish you'd start looking for a job tomorrow. And please stop drinking so much, ok?" I was now moving my hand up and down his thigh. "Do you promise?"

"I-I p-promise," he stuttered. Amazingly, he tried holding out as long as he could from asking for a blowjob. (Such a gentleman.) I, of course, didn't help matters by rubbing and massaging his bare chest and shoulders with my other hand. He shuddered at my touch, and after five minutes of unrelenting sensations, he finally crumbled.

"J-Jenny? D-do you think... you can?"

"Oh Garrett, all you had to do was ask." I grinned as a slid off the couch and sat down in front of him. I pushed his legs apart, unbuttoned his jeans, and as I fully opened his zipper, there leapt out his Jack-in-the-Boxers springing freely in all its 9" glory. I took it into my hand and squeezed its throbbing thickness. No wonder Jenny loved having sex with this boy. He must satisfy her like no one else.

"Unnnggh... you're killing me babe... p-please..." Poor Garrett couldn't wait to cum, but until I put that huge fucker in my mouth, he just simply couldn't cum. I planned on toying with him for a while, stroking him, playing with his egg-sized balls, but I was curious to know what his cock tasted like.

I propped myself up on my knees and got between his thighs. With the base of his dick firmly in my grasp, I went down--way down--on him. The first five inches were easy, but the next four weren't. I was out of practice, still, there are some things you could never forget. I knew I could do this. After all, I'd done it before.

"Oh, fuck Jenny!" he groaned loudly once my lips touched down on his groin. "You've never taken all of me before. That feels so good, aaaaah!"

Likewise, I thought. God, what a stud Garrett was, and I had him where I wanted him. He automatically put his hands on my head and ran his fingers through my hair. I grabbed his hips for support and bobbing up and down his cock.

"Jenny, oh Jenny. I can't... shit, don't stop..."

His buttcheeks were clenching and relaxing in succession; he was trying to fuck my mouth, but once again my earlier command had prevented him from getting up from the couch. I guess he was trying to speed things up, but he needn't had bothered. His balls had already tightened into his body, and his orgasm was only seconds away. I knew it the second he stopped humping, froze like a statue and screamed.

"Ooh.. ooh... ooooh... aaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhh!!!"

The first shot went straight to the back of my throat, then the second, then the third. He came in such forceful spurts that I couldn't keep up. My mouth overflowed with his seed, and I couldn't swallow it fast enough. He kept on coming even after I pulled away.

Then he said, "Yeah, give it back to me babe. Gimme me my cum. You know how much I love when you kiss me with my juices dripping out of your mouth."

Fuck, what a kinky bastard! Who would have thought he had it in him, and who was I not to oblige him? Some guys would rather be caught dead than have a taste of their own spooze, but apparently Garrett wasn't one of those guys. Here it cums, lover boy.

I jumped up from the floor and sat on his lap, making sure I didn't crush his cock and balls. I opened my mouth and clamped it tightly over his, and our tongues swam in a sea of semen and saliva. This was so fucking hot. Not only was Garrett a great kisser, he was sucking in and swallowing his own sperm. I didn't realize how much an effect kissing him would have on me because before I knew it, I was cumming in my pants, and that only drove me to kiss Garrett more deeply and more passionately.

Once my mouth had been emptied of his load, I collapsed on top of him, and he held me. God, it felt so good to be in someone's arms again. I'd forgotten how much I missed it, and I didn't want to let him go so soon. Although it brought back some painful memories, being in his embrace made me feel safe, but eventually I came to realize that this fantasy was over. All I could think of was how that Jenny was one lucky bitch, and by tomorrow they'd be back together again.

I gently pushed myself off his body and cupped his face in my hand, which he covered with his. He wasn't going to remember any of this, but I was--for a long time to come. I gave him one last kiss, and then whispered into his ear, "Bottom's up."

As soon as those words were said, Garrett's eyes rolled up into their sockets, and his head fell to one side. I helped him lie down on the couch and took of his socks. After cleaning him of any evidence of our just-concluded sexual encounter with a towel I got from the bathroom, I stuffed his dick back into his boxers and redid his pants. I slipped in a pillow under his head and covered with him a blanket that I got from my closet. Finally, I knelt beside him while lightly stroking his cheek with the back of my hand.

"When you wake up tomorrow, you will wake up feeling refreshed and rested. You will not, I repeat, not remember anything about tonight except for meeting me in the hallway and entering my apartment. As far as you're concerned, you came inside and passed out the moment you crashed on the couch. Your blowjob from Jenny was all a dream, a good dream, but nothing more. Do you understand what I just said?"

"Yesss..." He answered as if the air was being let out of his body. "All a dreaammm..."

"That's very good Garrett. Now, when I tap your forehead, you will fall completely asleep." I didn't wait for a response. I just went ahead and did it, and Garrett was out like a light.

With a sigh, I stood up and headed straight for the bathroom where I had to clean up the mess I made in my briefs. I still had a long day tomorrow, and I needed my rest. The last thing I wanted was thinking and worrying about Garrett. He was Jenny's problem, not mine...

...wasn't he?