"I have been a therapist for over twenty years," explained Dr. Valerie Nelson, "and, more than anything else, there are two very simple things that make a relationship work: open, honest communication and great sex. If you lack either or both of these qualities, sooner or later, your relationship is destined to fail."
John and Nikki looked at each other with a certain degree of trepidation. Earlier, Dr. Nelson took each one of them aside and asked some very personal questions about their sex life. While she promised not to divulge any of the details to the other, they both knew the therapist had to address those issues she discovered as problematic in the rocky marriage.
"I have been seeing you for about two months, now, and we have made some wonderful progress on all other areas. By your requests, I saved the topic of sex for last. I know you two feel very uneasy about discussing these things with me, but if we do not address the problems you both -- yes, both of you had problems in this area -- have privately discussed with me, all your work up until now will be wasted."
The couple squeezed each others' hands and squirmed uneasily in their chair.
"At 25 years of age, you two are still a very young couple. The last seven years of marriage have been rocky, from what you have told me, and we have taken care of all the minor issues. What I have discovered, however, is that your sex lives suck. Both of you find sex bland and unexciting. I personally know couples who have been married for well over forty years who still have amazing sex on a regular basis and, contrary to what the pornography industry wants you to believe, it has more to do with letting go of your inhibitions and letting your imaginations take over than it does with having oversized breasts, rear-ends, or penises." Dr. Nelson smiled a little and allowed the couple to digest what she had just said for a moment before continuing.
Neither John nor Nikki were an unattractive couple. At six-foot-two, John was a large man who once possessed an athletic body. While the finely-chiseled physique he'd possessed in high school had given way to laziness and beer, there was still enough of his old self in him that many women found him attractive.
Nikki was by far the fairer of the two. She had lost none of her doll-like features and, having had no children yet, she managed to keep her grippable hips and thick, cross-country thighs in shape through regular exercise. Her waist had widened a few inches in the intervening years, but she could still pull off a bikini if she needed to. Her breasts were on the smaller side -- just the right size for her husband to cup one in a hand -- but that had always been precisely the way John liked them. She had long legs for her height, but still only reached a paltry five-foot-two, a fact John endlessly teased her about.
John cleared his throat a bit and cast a suspicious glance at his wife before speaking. "I never said there was a problem with the size of my... ahh..."
"No, of course not," responded Dr. Nelson quickly. "That's not at all what I meant. What I am going to do now is take each of you aside again and give you detailed instructions. Tonight, you will follow these instructions to the letter. If you value your marriage, you will do precisely as I instruct and we will meet again tomorrow afternoon at our usual hour to see how things went."
"What if," Nikki asked hesitantly, "one of us doesn't like what's happening?"
The therapist smiled in response. "From what you have each told me already, I doubt anything of the sort will come to pass, but if it does, all you both have to remember is one word: strawberries."
"Strawberries?" asked John, clearly confused how fruit had anything to do with sex.
"Yes. You will use 'strawberries' as your safe word. Should either of you cross a line that the other is absolutely uncomfortable with, the utterance of the word 'strawberries' means, for all intents and purposes, 'Stop!'"
John's confusion was compounded by the need for a safe word. "Why couldn't we just say 'stop,' instead?"
Dr. Nelson offered an impish smile in response. "Because," she explained softly in a conspiratorial tone, "if either of you say 'stop' your partner will know you don't actually mean 'stop,' no matter how much you scream and cry the word."
Nikki was growing more uncertain about this part of their therapy the more she heard. "Why would either of us be screaming or crying?" she asked plaintively.
Dr. Nelson shook her head and stood up from her chair as she pointed an open palm toward her door. "If one of you will step outside of my office, I will explain what I must. Just remember that the safe word is 'strawberries' and each of you must do precisely as I instruct."
The drive back to their home seemed to take forever. John and Nikki were both deep in thought about what Dr. Nelson had told them. She had also given them explicit instructions not to share with one another what she had said. Curiosity over what the therapist told each of them privately tugged incessantly at their tongues, almost causing them to ask each other numerous times, but in the end, their desire to do as Dr. Nelson instructed won over.
As her husband drove home, Nikki stared out the passenger side window, hiding the redness that came to her cheeks every time she thought about what the doctor said. Similarly, John was terrified of what might happen tonight. On one hand, it was exciting, but he could not help but think of what his wife might say if everything didn't go as planned. What if Nikki said "strawberries" mere moments after they had begun? He glanced at his wife briefly before taking a deep breath and pulling into their driveway. One thing was certain in both their minds: tonight would either make or break their marriage.
Later that night, at precisely 10 o'clock, Nikki stood up from where they'd been sitting watching television in the living room. "I'm supposed to go... change." Without looking up at her, John gave her a nod. He was too intent on what their therapist had asked him to do. As his wife retreated up the stairs, he felt a stir of anxious anticipation in his pants. They hadn't even begun and he was already getting turned on. He closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. John loved his wife dearly and, despite all their arguments, he knew she was the one he intended to spend the rest of his life with.
John and Nikki were high school sweethearts. They were the homecoming king and queen and both held great promise for their respective futures. As is the case with many such couples, however, life handed them one sour lemon after another. Neither of them had ever been the studious type nor did they have any desire to go to college. John worked in construction for a home-building company that was doing quite well for itself in spite of the nation's slump in real estate sales. After three years on the job, he was promoted to a supervisory position and felt confident the owner and a very close friend of his would soon grant him another promotion.
Nikki, on the other hand, was something of a homebody. Despite her popularity in high school, she had few real friends and spent most of her days cleaning, exercising, or visiting her sister and two nephews while the men were at work. She never thought of herself as the sort to settle down in one place for long and the slow advancements of her husband's career rarely exceeded the growing pile of bills. They barely made enough to call themselves middleclass citizens and the frequent financial disappointments she faced caused Nikki a great deal of frustration. She performed the odd job helping her sister with the kids for a bit of added income, but with a lack of real work experience and frequent emotional outbursts, Nikki had trouble holding on to a steady job for long.
Over the years, their marriage became the casualty of forgotten dreams and frequent disappointments. They started seeing Dr. Nelson two months earlier after the dreaded D-word started being tossed around during almost every argument. Neither of them wanted a divorce, but the way their lives had grown stagnant with one another, they saw no other choice. Dr. Nelson was recommended by Nikki's sister and soon enough, many of the smaller problems the couple faced were taken care of. The biggest problem of all, however, loomed quietly over them both and they were too sensitive of each others' feelings to say it out loud. Their sex life had become dull and boring. Neither of them looked forward to sex anymore as it had become just another routine in their everyday lives of stagnant repetition.
Tonight, however, would be different. Nikki repeated those words to herself as she fit her fishnet stocking-covered feet into her black heels. At Dr. Nelson's instruction, she had pieced together parts of various outfits to create what was, quite possibly, the sluttiest-looking ensemble she could manage out of her wardrobe. The fishnet stockings climbed up her legs, greatly accentuating her thick thighs. A garter could barely be seen as it disappeared up her mini-skirt.
At the therapist's insistence, Nikki had cut several inches from the end of the skirt, making her feel as though she wore nothing beyond her waist. The black-and-white plaid skirt included a gold-chain belt that hung loosely at her wide hips. She had not worn the skirt once since she bought it after finding that its criss-crossing lines design made her hips appear larger than they were. A tight-fitting white blouse was buttoned up only halfway, showing off a bit of cleavage from the tops of her black bra. Nikki would never wear a black bra beneath a white blouse under normal circumstances, but she had to admit, there was something sexy about the way it looked on her.
As she examined herself in the mirror, the young woman noticed that the way her top was buttoned made it appear as though her breasts would spill free of the restrictive clothing at any moment. She wore a very light application of makeup, with light blush upon her cheeks, thin lines of black eyeliner and mascara, and what she usually referred to as her "slut-red" lipstick. Her hair was pulled back into braided pigtails with tiny white bows at the ends. Nikki bit her lip as she looked at herself, wondering what her husband might think of her dressed like this. She took a deep breath to calm herself as she remembered what Dr. Nelson told her. "Strawberries," she whispered quietly to herself, before turning for the door and calling down to her husband.
"John! Come up here, please!" Nikki eased the bedroom door shut and turned the bedroom light off, leaving her spotlighted in the golden glow of the bathroom light. She heard the creak of the fifth step up the stairs and took another deep, steadying breath. The anticipation made her heart throb and she felt the heat of her body seeping down to pool between her legs.
When John opened the door, his eyes took in the sexy vixen displayed before him. Nikki felt the intensity of his gaze as it slowly traveled down her body clear to her small feet encased in black heels. John silently repeated the words of their therapist and his mind stumbled for a moment to recall their safe word. He kept it foremost in his thoughts in consideration of his wife's feelings. If he was going to do this, he had to keep an ear out for the moment he crossed a line with her. If Nikki ever lost respect for him in the bedroom, their marriage would surely fail.
He licked his dry lips and spoke in a whisper. "Do you still remember the safe word?"
Nikki nodded and looked down at herself. "Do I look... umm... Do you like it?"
