The Hypnotist

"No," I replied. "But I still need to get used to closing my bedroom door."

She smiled then. "Do you really think my underwear was sexy? I could wear something like that for you again if you'd like."

My eyes widened, but then I saw that teasing grin on her lips. I clapped my hands over both ears.

"La-la-la-la-la!" I said loudly. "Not having this conversation with my sister!"

She laughed and came over to me, grabbing both my wrists and pulling them down from my head.

"You're such a goofball," she laughed.

I smiled, and we kissed briefly. It wasn't something we did often, but it felt appropriate at the moment. After that, we had a fun conversation about some of the case studies she had been going over for one of her classes. It was really interesting stuff, but her running commentary was what made it amusing and memorable.

After we moved the clothes into the dryers, Gwynne looked at me thoughtfully.

"Mitch, I thought you were dating someone. Was it Christy? Melinda? I thought you had mentioned both those girls' names. I know you haven't dated since I moved in last week. Did you break up or something?"

I shifted a little uncomfortably and leaned back against the heavy folding table, crossing my arms in front of my chest. My sister looked at that and arched an eyebrow, and I realized I had taken up a very defensive pose. I let out a soft chuckle and shook my head.

"I wasn't exactly dating either of those girls," I admitted. I sighed. "I met Christy while we were both going to school, and we hooked up a few times. It was good—really good, actually—but we had, like, no other common interests." I shrugged. "But the sex was incredible, so we kept seeing each other for the next year or so. She got a full scholarship to go to some Ivy League school. I was happy for her. We knew we were never going to be any more serious than we had been, and it was nice to see her get such a great opportunity. She left about a month ago."

Gwynne nodded. I blew out a breath and continued.

"Melinda was a girl I met at the grocery store," I pointed in the direction of the place. It was just three blocks away. "I ran into her while we were shopping, we talked for a bit, and really hit it off. We kept talking as we headed out to the parking lot, and I gave her my number. She said, 'I probably shouldn't take your number, Mitch. I have a steady boyfriend.' I grinned and told her to hold onto it, in case things didn't work out with him. She laughed and told me how bad I was. Two days later she called me. We talked on the phone a few times, and then she came over one afternoon. We were all over each other right away.

"Melinda told me she was still with that guy, but she couldn't stop thinking about me. I told her I was seeing someone else, but that it was a really casual relationship. That...seemed to make it okay for her. We wound up hooking up for sex pretty regularly after that. The same week Christy told me she was leaving, Melinda let me know that her boyfriend had finally proposed and that they were going to get married. I hugged her and told her I was happy for her. I understood that she couldn't see me anymore."

"Did Christy know you were seeing Melinda?" Gwynne asked.

I know I blushed then. "Not exactly," I replied, "but she did know about Frieda. I met both of them in college, and they knew I was seeing both of them. Never at the same time or anything, but they seemed fine with it."

"Wait," Gwynne said, "When did you stop seeing Frieda?"

"The same week as the other two," I replied. "She got a job offer in California. She was the first one to tell me she was leaving, actually. But Frieda and Christy moved away that same weekend, and that was two days after Melinda told me her happy news."

"You dog! You were working three women at the same time?" Gwynne chuckled. Her eyes twinkled for a moment, and then she looked thoughtful. "Wait, wasn't that the weekend you called to tell me I could move in with you?"

I nodded. "I felt bad for telling you 'no' when you had asked to move in with me, but part of the reason was that those girls might show up without warning and expect to have sex with me. I didn't think we could keep doing that if you were living with me. After I helped Christy pack up her things, I called you."

She gave me another grin. "Did you get to have 'break-up' sex with all three of them?"

I shook my head, but couldn't entirely contain the grin that came to my lips. "I'm going to have to plead the Fifth on that one," I replied.

Gwynne laughed, but then asked, "So, how many girls are you seeing now, stud? Were there more than those three?"

I shook my head. "No, there weren't any others, and I'm not seeing anyone now. Quite frankly, I hadn't been in a hurry to look for anybody else to date while I was seeing those three, so there isn't anyone I have been thinking about getting together with. The only two women I work with are married, and with the hours I've pulled this past month, there just wasn't time."

Gwynne nodded. "Ah. I see."

"How about you?" I asked. "Are there any guys you've been seeing lately?"

She shook her head, a little sadly.

"There was a guy. You met him. Tony."

My eyebrows shot up at that revelation. The two of them had been very serious, back when they were undergrads.

"That was almost two years ago," I said softly. "You haven't dated anyone since?"

She shook her head twice, but then stopped. "Well, I went out on a few dates since then. The first two times, I couldn't help myself. I kept blabbing on and on about Tony, and those guys couldn't get away from me fast enough. The next two times, I managed to keep my mouth shut long enough to get laid, but I knew it just wasn't the same." She gave a bitter little laugh and shook her head again. "So, I'm not seeing anyone, and haven't been serious about anyone since Tony."

"I'm sorry," I said.

I felt the need to hug her, and Gwynne sighed happily as we held each other in the laundromat and listened to our clothes bouncing around in the dryers. We kept holding each other for a fairly long time, until someone else popped their head in the door. I vaguely recognized the woman as a neighbor from the building behind ours.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she muttered. "Are any of the washers available?"

"All of them are," I replied, releasing my sister and giving the woman a smile.

"Thanks," she replied, and then she left.

As Gwynne and I collected our clean clothes, the woman returned with two of her children in tow. They had four big laundry baskets between them, and they chattered away as they dumped the clothes into all four washing machines and started them up.

"Have a great evening!" I called out to them as we left.

"You too!" the kids replied.

* * *

For the next three weeks, my sister smoked every day. It was a lot less than she used to smoke—perhaps four or five cigarettes a day. Once or twice a week, we would go out to a restaurant for dinner together. We were both "actively looking" for someone to date, but neither of us had any luck. I found that mystifying, since my sister was so obviously attractive. I asked her about it, over one of our late-night dinners.

"I don't want to pry, Gwynne, but why are you having trouble finding someone to date?" I asked. "You're on campus most of the time. I'd figure you would have loads of guys hitting on you all the time."

She sighed. "That's not the problem, Mitch. It's the cigarettes. A lot of guys I talk to are smokers. We talk while we're outside having a cigarette, but I know if I hook up with one of them there's no way I'll quit. Guys who don't smoke are less interested in dating someone they've seen smoking. Plus, I think most of the guys that I find attractive would only be interested in a quick hook-up. Don't get me wrong, I could use that, but I can't bring some guy back here for sex."

"Why not?" I asked. "I hope you don't think I'll hesitate to bring some girl home for sex, Gwynne, just because I'm living with my sister."

She blushed and shook her head. "It's not the same," she murmured, clearly embarrassed. "I don't want you to hear me doing that."

I took another bite and chewed, looking at her. I was perplexed. Before I could ask, she took a sip of her wine and shook her head vigorously.

"I don't want to talk about it," she insisted.

I finished chewing, swallowed, and took a sip of my lemonade.

"I think we have to," I sighed. "If you do meet a really nice guy you want to date, it may throw him off if you don't invite him back here. If you want to get laid...well, this is your place too, Gwynne. I can't say I want to listen to my sister getting...you know. But it shouldn't stop you."

I could tell my awkward attempt was only making her more uncomfortable. Hell, it was uncomfortable for me, too. Her blush deepened the more I talked, but I knew I was probably blushing just as much. Finally she took a big gulp of her wine.

"I'm really loud, okay?" she blurted. "I can't help it. When I have a nice, hard dick in my mouth, I always moan and I'm really noisy when I suck it. When a guy is fucking me, it's like I feel the need to announce what he's doing. I don't know how I'd even be able to face you if I knew you'd just heard me screaming about how much I loved it in my ass."

Her face was practically crimson after she got all that out, but I was hard as a brick. Yeah, I know it's my sister and all that, but fuck! That was hot for me to hear, and I was struggling not to picture her doing those things. Hell, who am I kidding? I was picturing her moaning and slurping loudly on a thick, hard cock, and then crying out as I shoved it in her asshole.

It shook me when I realized I was picturing her doing those things with me. Then I realized I was still staring at her, and that neither of us had said a word for over a minute. I swallowed carefully and blew out a breath.

"Okay, I am sorry I pushed you, Gwynne," I said softly. "You had your reasons, and I should have respected that you didn't want to share them with me. That still leaves a problem, though. If you quit smoking and find 'Mr. Right,' how will we handle our living arrangement?"

"I...I don't know," she whispered. She took another bite and chewed thoughtfully, and I did the same. After she washed it down, she said, "Maybe after I quit smoking I should move out."

I shook my head, but didn't say anything.

That night I had trouble falling asleep. I was achingly hard, but I kept picturing my sister...sort of. It was like I was picturing her face on Christy's body. I'd seen Christy naked, obviously, and so I was "filling in" those details on my sister. It was weird enough that I simply couldn't bring myself to jack off, but I couldn't stop imagining her slurping and moaning as she sucked my dick, crying out how much she loved feeling my dick deep inside her pussy, and then again as I took her ass.

That last one was something Christy had never allowed me to do until just two weeks before she left. It had been incredible for me, and I think Christy had enjoyed it more than she would admit afterward. So, that was the unforgettable picture in my mind—of Christy's plump, pale pink asshole spreading open around the head of my cock. Only, when I looked up from that sight it was my sister looking back over her shoulder at me and urging me to fuck her in the ass.

Eventually I fell asleep, but I'm pretty sure I dreamt about fucking my sister that night. Fortunately, I couldn't recall those dreams when I stumbled out of bed in the morning.

* * *

Over the next two days, I managed to push those thoughts out of my mind. I probably wouldn't have, but our company got three big work orders and I was putting in eighteen hour days. I barely had time to breathe, much less think about my sister. Wednesday I was able to take off for lunch at a restaurant with Gwynne, and she gave me another of those weak smiles and showed me the patch on her arm.

"Seventh time's the charm," she said sardonically.

"I hope so," I replied. "Anything I can do to help?"

She shook her head once and then stopped. She swallowed and said, "Actually, if you have time, could you show me those online articles you told me about? There might be some helpful tips in there that would make a difference."

I nodded and thought for a moment. "I'll probably be at work really late again tonight, Gwynne. You can just grab my laptop out of my bedroom, though. Those sites should still be in the browser history."

She gave me a grin. "I won't see a bunch of porn, will I?"

A couple at the next table looked over at us, but I ignored them. "Nope," I replied. I waited for her to set down her glass and swallow the sip before I added, "That stuff's all on my phone."

She snorted and shook her head. Unfortunately, I didn't have time to stay and talk as much as I'd have liked. I had to bolt down my food and barely had time to hug my sister before I headed back to work.

* * *

It was through some of the links online that she found the hypnotist. One of the participants in one of the studies had failed to quit smoking with all of the techniques and aids that my sister had tried, and she had mentioned that it had taken hypnotherapy for her to finally quit. It wasn't something that had occurred to me or Gwynne.

After three days on the patch and without a cigarette, Gwynne was bouncing off the walls. Unfortunately, I wasn't there to lend any support due to my insane hours at work. I'm not sure what I would have done, really. Maybe a few decent conversations would have distracted her from her craving, but perhaps that's just wishful thinking.

The patch wasn't enough. The relaxation exercises and deep breathing weren't enough. Reading more online only made her more keenly aware of her mounting frustration. She wanted a cigarette. Badly.

I wasn't there when she bought another pack of cigarettes, or when she muttered angrily at herself and sat on the balcony chain-smoking four cigarettes in a row. That was when she went online and found a local hypnotist who advertised that he could help patients quit smoking. Later I would look up that listing, and find that all of his "rave reviews" were from older female patients.

Gwynne didn't think to be suspicious, nor did she research the matter further. She knew other people had successfully quit with the help of a hypnotist, and she assumed this guy had the same sort of qualifications and scruples as someone in her own field of psychology. She called and made an appointment, and it was scheduled for that Friday.

I came back to the apartment that Friday evening just exhausted. I had lost track of the hours I'd worked over the previous ten days, but it had to be a ton. Since I was salaried rather than being paid by the hour, I didn't bother to keep track. Some of you might be reading this and thinking, "Wait a second! I thought you said you had a 'good' job. This sounds terrible!" The thing was, whenever I pulled all these extra hours I earned substantial bonuses as long as we finished each project on schedule. For all the crazy hours I had worked, I was going to earn a bonus check roughly equivalent to three months' salary.

Gwynne was there, smiling happily from the couch when I walked in. I bent to give her a quick smooch as I walked past the couch on my way to the bathroom, pleased to smell cinnamon on her breath and no trace of cigarettes.

After my shower, I stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a bath towel. Gwynne waved me over and patted the spot next to her. She looked excited, and I figured she had news that couldn't wait. I walked around the couch and sat next to her.

"I think I finally did it," she exclaimed. "I haven't even wanted a cigarette this whole afternoon!"

"That's great!" I said, but I thought she looked a little...odd. It was tough to put my finger on it, and I felt the need to ask, "How did you manage that?"

"I found a hypnotist and had a session this morning. After I left, I felt no need to smoke at all." She twisted her mouth in an unhappy little frown. "That guy was a little creepy, though," she said. "I don't know what it was about him, but I felt like he was hitting on me or something."

"You don't think he did anything to you while you were hypnotized?" I asked.

The thought was upsetting to me, but Gwynne immediately shook her head.

"No," she assured me. "I can remember clearly what he said during the session. There was nothing..." She shook her head a few times, then blinked and looked at me. She smiled again.

I looked at her expectantly, but she didn't say anything else.

"Well, good," I said, and I stood up.

"There is one thing, though, and I'll need you to help me with it," she added, so I turned to face her.

"Sure thing, Gwynne," I said, nodding. "You know I'll do anything I can to help you get through this."

"Oh, thank God," she groaned, reaching for my towel. "I really need to suck your dick."

"WHAT?!?" I yelped, grabbing my towel with both hands and stepping away from her.

Unfortunately, the coffee table was directly behind me. The backs of my calves slammed into it, and I started to pitch over backward. My hands flailed out instinctively as I tried to regain my balance, but I wound up sagging back onto the coffee table. Both of my hands were behind me on the table, and my towel opened right up and slid to the floor.

My sister let out a loud, sexy moan, and she had me in her mouth before I could stop her. I spluttered in protest, but failed to act. Gwynne's hot, wet mouth felt fantastic as she sucked my dick, and the sounds she made...My God, those sounds were incredible! It was like listening to a really sexy blowjob video, but with the volume cranked up as high as it would go.

Perhaps I would have tried harder to resist, or to push her off of me, but I hadn't been laid in over a month. I hadn't even jacked off in over a week. I stared at her face and let my sister suck my dick for the next minute. It wasn't until I groaned out loud that I managed to shake myself out of it and do something.

"Please, Gwynne, you need to stop," I groaned. I shifted my weight to my right hand so that I could push her shoulder away from me with my left.

She groaned even louder in protest, but reluctantly let my dick slip from her lips. It was bobbing up and down, and glistened with her saliva. Gwynne blinked and looked at me, and then her eyes widened.

"Oh my gosh, are you okay?" she asked.

She stood and helped me to my feet, and I managed a weak nod.

"Yeah," I murmured. "I managed to catch myself, so it didn't hurt when I landed on the coffee table."

"Oh, that's good," she said, and let out a relieved sigh. "Here, have a seat."

I nodded gratefully and sank back into the couch. She had me back in her mouth as soon as my butt hit the cushion, once again moaning loudly and slurping as her lips worked up and down my pulsing shaft.

"Gwynne!" I croaked in protest, but at that point I was powerless to resist her.

It just felt too fucking good, and she wanted it more than I wanted to stop her. My hands tangled in the dark curls of her hair as her head bobbed up and down in my lap. Then her left hand slid between my thighs, and she let out another loud moan when she hefted and fondled my balls. I watched my thighs drift open to give her more room, but there was no conscious effort on my part. It felt like it just happened.

On some level, my mind refused to accept that any of this was really happening. I was already mentally and physically exhausted after the past ten hectic days at work, even before I walked in the front door. I had planned to get that shower and then take a nap. My brain kept insisting that this was just a dream. No way could my sister actually be sucking my dick like this, right?

My dick certainly didn't care that it was my sister. It was bathed in a heavenly, wet, sucking mouth and it was as hard as it could get. I shuddered all over as my sister insistently moaned, "Mmm-hmm! Mmm-hmm!" She had felt my shaft swelling further, thickening between her lips and throbbing as she brought me to that wonderful point of no return. My eyes shot open and I gasped when I felt my nuts clenching up.