There are two things to know about my sister in law Nicole. The first is that she's a complete knockout. She could have been a model if she were a little taller. She is still an inch taller than Stephanie, but where Stephanie is curvy, Nicole is long and toned. Stephanie's breasts are big enough to fill a wine glass or the palms of your hands; Nicole is smaller on top. Nicole is two years older than Stephanie, but because she's small, her breasts and ass are as perky as they were when she was nineteen. A year ago she started doing yoga, and she really took to it. The exercises didn't make her body sinewy in the way that it does for some women. The practices defined her more. Her face is more classically beautiful, with a small straight nose and dark eyes that match her dark brown hair. She's more fair-skinned than even Stephanie is.
The second thing to know about Nicole is that she's a complete bitch. Her family says it with love but as a truth, as well. She doesn't accept conflict or broach disagreement, and she'll walk away if she isn't going to get what she wants. Her outlook is almost always negative--even her felt compliments come out sounding backhanded. This turns off a lot of guys who would probably otherwise pursue her. She hadn't had a boyfriend to anyone's knowledge in seven years. Her parents wondered if she might be a lesbian. But her sister loves her and would make sure she got out from behind her computer and from her house by inviting her over for dinner a couple of times a month.
While Stephanie was cleaning herself up, I put a frozen loaf of bread in the oven to refresh and did my best to compose myself. The kitchen smelled musky from our fucking, and I wanted to ensure that Nicole had no idea what we'd been up to. In the meantime, I prepared a little salad of spinach, goat cheese, and bacon that I thought would satisfy the three of us. The side effect of making the kitchen smell like fried pork and not porking was a side benefit. Once I plated our dinners I opened a bottle of red wine and a bottle of white and scrubbed down all the counters.
Even though Nicole had been over to our house dozens of times, she still rang the doorbell. Stephanie was still upstairs, so I went over and opened the door for her.
"People on the roads today are just fucking maniacs," Nicole said. She brushed past me into the living room.
"Good evening to you, too, Nikki," I said. "I'm just finishing dinner. There's wine on the dinner table." I went back into the kitchen and pulled the bread out of the oven. Through the pass-through I watched Nicole collapse into a chair and pour herself a glass of the red.
She looked good. She had clearly come straight over from work. She was wearing brown tailored slacks that stretched over her upper thighs and ass under a white knit top. It was a really fine material--Nicole worked in computers and treated herself to the finer things in life--nearly transparent in the light and showing a matching brown camisole underneath. She had on brown wedge heels that shaped her ass as it tumbled into her seat. Nicole was someone I liked to look at as much as I disliked listening to, but thankfully she was so oblivious that she never noticed. Or if she did, she never said anything.
She drank her first glass silently staring into space waiting for her sister to come downstairs. I cut the bread and wiped the plates and set the table.
Finally Stephanie flounced downstairs. She'd tossed on a blue sundress and white canvas tennis shoes and tied her hair up in a white ribbon. She still looked a little flushed and winked at me as she reached the last step.
"Hey, sis!" Stephanie said, and finally Nicole stood up. They embraced lightly. "How are you doing?"
"Well, you know. My car has a little knock in the engine and the mechanic tells me it's nothing. I think he just wants it to break so I'll have to spend more on the repair."
Stephanie poured herself a tall glass of the white as I put the plates on the table with the bread.
I poured myself a glass of wine also, and raise my glass for a toast. "To lucky husbands," I said. My wife blushed a little bit as we clinked glasses and dug in to our plates.
The dinner itself was uneventful. Nicole went through her litany of complaints while Stephanie listened and I watched the thin lips of her mouth--how different than her sister's full pout--and her long, thin arms and neck.
As I was picking up the plates and taking them into the kitchen, Nicole said, "You look a lot better than you did the last time I saw you, Steph. Are you doing something different?"
"No!" Stephanie said. "My wonderful husband hypnotized me, and I lost 6 pounds in a week! I feel amazing, and I didn't have to do anything. I swear, he's like magic." She grabbed at me as I walked around the table. I made a weak feint at getting out of the way of her hands.
"Magic, huh? I'm still having trouble sleeping. I get maybe five hours of sleep a night. Do you think he could help with that?" Of course, I was still standing in the same room with her.
"You should ask him," she said.
"Well?" Nicole said, finally turning to me.
"I can give it a shot. It works for people who really try. Stephanie did all the work," I said. I knew that it was important that a subject be willing, and it wouldn't happen if Nicole wasn't committed.
"All right. Do you need a pocket watch or something? Don't make me bark like a dog."
Nicole laid down on the couch just like Stephanie had. Stephanie sat behind me and watched enraputred as I talked her sister into a trance. She was a lot more difficult a subject than Stephanie was. I had to push her down until I felt like Nicole was deep enough that I could work on her.
"Can you hear me, Nicole?" I asked. Sometimes with difficult subjects they can actually fall asleep in the process of going into a trance.
"Yes."
"Good. It's important that you're completely honest with me when you're relaxed like this. I want you to picture your mind as a series of doors in a long hallway. When I ask you a question, I want you to go to a door and open it, and tell me what's inside. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Good. Why are you having trouble sleeping?"
Her hands moved for a moment like she was grasping a doorknob and opening it. "I can't let go of the day. I get stressed out thinking about what's going to happen next." I could see the tension in her shoulders just thinking about having to sleep.
"All right. Good. Now, Nicole, when you go to sleep at night, I want you to release something that stresses you with every action. When you brush your teeth, one worry will fall away. Each time you brush your hair, you'll release one more concern. When you take off each article of clothing, you'll leave a worry behind until the next morning. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"Excellent. I want you to practice. When I say, 'Open your eyes,' you'll sit up and you'll be in your bedroom preparing for bed. Tell me what you're releasing. Open your eyes."
Nicole's eyes snapped open and she sat up on the couch. She leaned over and took off one shoe. "Driving home." She took off the other shoe. "Dealing with Amy." She lifted her arms over her head and took off her shirt, leaving only her camisole. "Credit card bills."
"I think she's got it," said Stephanie from behind me. I'd almost forgotten she was there. There was something in her voice that was husky, almost breathless. I was a little surprised.
"All right, Nicole. When I say 'sleep,' you'll return to my living room and go back into your trance, but you'll still hear my voice and be as relaxed as you are now. Do you understand?"
She'd begun loosening her belt, and I heard Stephanie shifting in her seat next to me. "I understand."
"Sleep." Casually, Nicole laid herself back down on the couch, her hands folded back in her lap.
