The Mentalist Next Door - Smoke Rings
A college student watches the next-door neighbor do some magic tricks.
(Another old one of mine, re-posted from another site.)
I was going to college in Texas when I got my first apartment. It was late summer and I had just moved in, and one warm Saturday morning as I was relaxing on the balcony with a beer (I had a roommate who was 21, so why not?) I smelled smoke. I looked over and spied our shirtless neighbor, a man who I guessed to be in his early 40s with sandy-blond hair and weekend scruff, smoking a cigarette and sipping coffee while reading a magazine.
It was a very different time then, and I wasn’t out of the closet yet; I hadn’t even fully admitted to myself that I was attracted to other guys, though in retrospect all the signs were there. Anyway, that morning I was stealing surreptitious glances at my neighbor, hoping he wouldn’t notice. The magazine was called MAGIC, but I was less interested in that than I was by his hairy chest, glowing gold in the morning sun, accentuating his stocky musculature. He was barefoot, his legs crossed and propped up on the balcony railing, and I furtively checked out the bulge in his well-worn jeans. He wasn’t a model or anything, but he looked pretty good to me in a rugged, mature kind of way.
Then he did something interesting: he took a long drag from his cigarette, formed his mouth into an O, and expertly expelled several dense smoke rings that drifted lazily through the humid air. He looked so leisurely and relaxed as he did this. As I watched, something about this caused my dick to begin to stiffen in my shorts, and then I noticed he was looking back at me. “Morning,” he called out.
“Hey,” I said, and immediately turned my attention to something else. I hurriedly drank what was left of my beer and allowed my semi to subside before retreating back indoors, feeling ashamed and hoping that I hadn’t come across as weird as I felt.
It was maybe a week or two later that I received a MAGIC magazine in the mail by mistake. It was addressed to my neighbor, which is how I first learned his name. I could have just put it in his mailbox, I suppose, but instead I found myself knocking on his door to return it in person.
He opened it and I was struck by how blue his eyes were. “Whatcha need, bud?” he asked genially. He was dressed very casually in jeans with a hole at the knee, a sleeveless T-shirt, and a ball cap.
“Mailman put this in our box by mistake,” I said, offering him the magazine.
He took it. “All right, thanks a lot,” he said. Then he added, “Hey, you want a beer?”
Maybe I looked mature for a 19-year-old, or maybe he was just repaying a favor and didn’t care how old I was. “Sure,” I said, and walked inside. He closed the door behind me, and I detected the smell of old smoke in the cool air of his apartment. He walked into the kitchen while I waited in the adjoining living room. There were framed pictures of a young boy and girl on the wall, which I assumed were his kids, though I didn’t recall noticing whether or not he wore a wedding ring.
“So what’s your name?” He asked. “I’m Dan.”
“Steve,” I said, “So, uh, you’re a magician or something?”
He returned with an open bottle in each hand and handed one to me. “I’m a shrink,” he answered. “Magic’s just a hobby really. I go to a few conventions now and then, read the magazine, but I’m no pro.”
I took a sip of beer and said, “That’s cool, man.”
“You can have a seat,” he offered, and I plopped myself down on the leather couch while he slid into a nearby armchair. “I take it you’re in school here?” he asked, setting out a pair of coasters on his coffee table. No wedding ring.
“Yeah,” I said. “Engineering student.”
“Good for you,” he said. “Stick with it. Good money in that.”
“Yeah, here’s hoping!” I said, taking another sip. “Those your kids?” I asked, indicating the photos.
“They are,” he answered. “They’re a little older now, 12 and 10. They live with their mother in Little Rock.”
“Oh,” I said. “Sorry.”
“No problem,” he replied easily. “Sometimes things don’t work out. She and I got married when we were too young, before we really knew who we were or what we wanted. I’m just glad we’re still friends.” He smiled, and I thought he looked very attractive just then.
I smiled back. After a few awkward seconds, I tried to change the subject. “So what kind of magic tricks do you do?”
“Well, like most kids, I started with sleight-of-hand, but if I had to pick a specialty I consider myself more of a mentalist now.”
“Like, mind reading?” I wondered nervously how he would react if he could tell what I was thinking about.
He sipped from his bottle and nodded. “Mind reading, clairvoyance, stuff like that. Simple things, really, nothing too elaborate. Or expensive. Magic cabinets and trick props ain’t cheap, believe me.”
“Sounds pretty neat,” I said, taking another swallow of beer.
“So you wanna see? A trick?” He asked.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“All right.” He stood up and walked over to a small dining table. “C’mere and sit in this chair,” he said. I rose from the sofa, walked over, and sat down. As I finished the last of my beer, he took the empty bottle and walked into the kitchen. He tossed it into the trash and returned, sitting down in the chair across the table from me with a deck of cards in his hand.
There was a pack of Camel Wides on the table, along with an ashtray. He took one out of the pack and lit it up, before saying, “Oh, you don’t mind if I smoke, right?”
“Sure, it’s your house,” I said.
“It helps to relax,” he said.
I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or about himself. “Ok,” I said. “So, what do I do?”
“Shuffle these,” he said, handing me the cards. I did, and then he said, “Pick one, look at it so I can’t see, then put it somewhere back into the deck. Don’t forget which one you picked.” Once I had done this, he said, “Ok, now give ’em back.” I handed them over and he tucked them into his shirt pocket.
“Now,” he said, fixing me with that blue gaze, “just focus on my eyes. Try not to blink if you can help it. I’m going to make a psychic connection with your mind and, using only your thoughts, figure out which card you picked.”
“Ok,” I said. I could have looked at his face all day.
“Focus,” he repeated softly. “Focus and relax. Concentrate on letting me in, imagine a link forming between my mind and yours. I can only read your mind if you really want it to happen.”
I fixated on his eyes and I watched him as he smoked calmly for a few minutes. I started to feel as though I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. Meanwhile, his smoky exhalations swirled lazily in the light from the afternoon sun that streamed through the vertical blinds covering the glass sliding door to his balcony, creating a thin fog in the room.
“Deep, calming breaths,” he said quietly. “In… and out… not minding the smoke. Have you ever smoked before, son?”
“A few times,” I admitted, kind of liking how he called me “son.”
“Good, then it doesn’t bother you at all. In fact, you must know how relaxing it can be. Just keep breathing deep, in… and out… relaxing deeper, focused on my eyes, hearing my words, letting me in, feeling the connection forming between my mind and yours, very calm now, very easy now, feeling very comfortable and relaxed and open, isn’t that right?”
“..Yes,” I murmured. Part of me was aware that he was hypnotizing me, but by then I felt too cozy to worry. And on a deeper level, I wanted this stud to have his way with me.
He raised the cigarette to his perfect lips, took and drag, and slowly blew the smoke into the air between us, into my face.
“Breathe in… and out…” he continued. “The smoke just helps us to relax. In fact, breathing in my smoke helps that connection between our minds to grow. That’s right, as we smoke together, the connection is getting stronger and stronger, and it feels just fine. Just keep watching my eyes, watching and breathing the smoke, relaxing into your chair, feeling so comfortable and open as my mind touches yours.”
I continued to sit and stare at Dan in silence as my muscles loosened, just content to listen and drink in his handsome features, feeling so lazy and at ease, just as he said. He put out his cigarette and immediately lit another as I continued to melt in his eyes.
“This is the second cigarette, so it’ll help you feel twice as relaxed,” he said, as the space between us got smokier. “It feels so good to relax and so easy to listen, doesn’t it, son?”
“….Yes…” He was definitely in control now, and I liked it.
“It may be getting hard to think, and that’s perfectly okay. Our minds are linked now and you’ll easily be able to think about whatever I tell you to think about. Right now I’d like you to think about that morning on the balcony, when you were watching me having coffee. You can see it very clearly in your mind now, can’t you?”
I nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Tell me what you see.”
“I’m on my balcony and you’re on your balcony. You’re drinking coffee and reading your magazine. You’re smoking a cigarette and blowing smoke rings and it looks really cool.”
“I dunno… Manly. Kind of sexy.”
“How do you feel watching me?”
“Nervous and excited.”
“Why’s that, son?”
“Because I don’t know you at all but I think you’re kind of hot. But I’m scared of how you’ll react and hoping you don’t notice.”
“That I’m staring. That I’m getting a boner in my shorts.”
He grinned and said, “I did notice, son, but I want you to know that I wasn’t bothered one bit. I wasn’t uncomfortable at all, and so you don’t need to feel uncomfortable either. In fact, I liked that you were watching me. I think you’re sexy too, boy, and despite what they say there’s no shame at all in being attracted to another man. You’re still attracted to me, aren’t you? That’s why you brought me my magazine today instead of leaving it in my mailbox.”
“Good boy,” he said. “It’s exciting too, isn’t it? To be here with me, to feel accepted by me.”
“You’re getting hard again, son.” He winked as he took another drag. “I can tell.”
“And that’s just wonderful, son. Your cock knows what you like, so let it happen naturally as you continue to relax. So… you liked watching me blow smoke rings, huh?”
“You want me to blow some more for you now? It’s okay, you know you can be honest with me.”
He smiled and leaned in a bit closer. “Good boy. I’m gonna blow smoke rings just for you, and each one is gonna make you that much more relaxed and sleepy. And even though your mind is drifting further and further down, and those heavy eyelids might close, your cock is gonna get so hard for me and it’ll feel amazing.”
He took some smoke into his mouth, made that O with his lips, and snapped his jaw repeatedly in slow succession. Each time, a white circle of smoke jetted between us, captivating me fully in its expansive, wobbly dance, until it would hit me in the face and disperse. I could feel a slight sting in my nostrils as I breathed them in, and I loved it, and each one seemed to tug my eyelids a little further down, even as my erection jumped and began to leak.
“You really like my smoke, son.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Uhhrhhmm…” I slurred in absentminded agreement.
As I teetered on the brink of sleep, my jaw slack and eyes barely open, he whispered, “This time I’m gonna blow my smoke right into your mouth, and it’s gonna sink your mind into a nice, peaceful, deep sleep, even as your body stays turned on. And it’s gonna feel so, so good.”
He took a drag, filling up with smoke. I watched in my stupor as he came closer, the cloud suspended in his mouth… And a second later, I felt his scruffy lips against mine, and I felt his tongue enter me. My chest swelled with the exhalation he fed me, and my eyes finally slid closed with a smoky sigh as I sagged down into my seat.
“You want me to touch you, son? You can answer.”
He moved behind me and caressed my lolling head and limp neck with his firm hands, then massaged my shoulders and pecs, kissing me gently, tickling me with his scruff, and murmuring quiet but firm encouragement to go deeper, to relax and surrender to the pleasure of his touch. It felt as good as he promised it would. “Moan for me, boy,” he said, and I did. I had never before felt so free, yet so full of desire, and I shuddered with helpless, delicious delight.
After some time of this, he allowed me to open my eyes. Then he told me to take my clothes off if I felt comfortable, which I did as if it were the most natural thing. “Go ahead and help yourself to one of my Camels,” he said. “You’ll feel so manly and sexy smoking it for me.” Without hesitation, I shook one from its pack and lit it. The nicotine hit me fast and my God, it felt fantastic.
He knelt in front of me, my rigid cock bobbing at the level of his mouth. I knew what to do.
I smoked hard as I pressed my dick into the warm, wet softness of his mouth. What a heavenly feeling! I was so charged up, and he knew how to suck, and he wasn’t down there very long at all before I felt the first vibration of an orgasm seize my dick, which quickly cascaded over my entire body, contorting my face and curling my toes in spasms of pleasure as I blew my load down Dan’s throat. I grunted like a goddamn animal, neither aware nor caring if any of the other neighbors heard me. Meanwhile, he had been jacking himself off too, and he growled as he came in his hand.
“Go on, lick it up,” he told me, and fed me the seed from off his fingers, the bitter saltiness mixing with the taste of tobacco. It was divine. “Yeah, looks like you love the taste of cum. Next time, you can suck me off.”
Eventually he told me to get dressed and gently woke me from my trance. “So that’s a little of what a mentalist does,” he said smirking, “though it usually isn’t nearly that fun. But what can I say? You’re a natural.”
“Wow,” was all I could say, reeling from the intensity of the experience. “That was… I mean, wow. I, uh… I’ve never… Holy shit.”
“Well, I’m happy to have been your first,” he said. “And, look, I know how things can be confusing, especially when you’re still young and trying to figure things out. It took me a pretty good while. Anyway, I really enjoyed our time together, Steve, and I hope you did too, even if it never happens again.”
“No, yeah,” I nodded, still having difficulty forming a coherent sentence. All I could think was, I am definitely gay. Finally I said, “So, I should probably get going before my roommate gets home.”
“Sure, bud.” He moved to open the door for me. “Remember, I’m just next door. To talk, or whatever. I’ve been where you are. It gets better.” He smiled reassuringly.
I shook his hand, thanking him for the beer “and everything,” and to my relief my roommate was still out when I got home. My clothes smelled like smoke and I changed out of them to shower, only then noticing that Dan’s pack of Camels had somehow gotten into the pocket of my shorts. Part of me thought I should return them, but there was another part of me that realized he surely wouldn’t mind if I held onto them.
I couldn’t stop thinking about that wild afternoon, and the more I did, the more I couldn’t deny that I wanted more. (And what of it?) Later that night, while my roommate was asleep, I went out onto the balcony to have a cigarette in secret and to be alone with my thoughts. And as I took the smoke into my lungs, my dick started to harden as a pleasant buzz coursed through my body. A few moments later, Dan emerged onto his own balcony and lit up too. “Evening,” he called out.
“Hey,” I said. To my relief, there was no shame, no weird vibe; just two new friends enjoying something together. I realized that there was a lot I could learn from him, and over the next few years I did learn quite a bit.
He never did tell me which card I picked out, though.