A Few Minor Adjustments Ch 06

I didn't have a plan as I drove to my sister-in-law's house, but I did have a key.

Two days before I had hypnotized my wife's sister to help her find a way to relax and sleep through the night. Since then she'd been sending me sexy photos of herself, following a post-hypnotic suggestion I'd given her. My wife Stephanie was anchoring the local evening news, so I was a bachelor that night. I picked up some very spicy Thai take-out to bring over to Nicole's house; that was her favorite, and there was a great place nearby I knew would knock her socks off. I hoped that I might be able to knock off something a little more revealing after dinner.

Nicole lives alone in an enormous house. She makes good money in the tech sector and looked at the house as an investment when she bought it. She installed all the bells and whistles: stainless steel appliances, high-grade sinks and counters, ceramic cooktop. This despite the fact that she eats cheap Mexican drive-thru four nights a week and the most complicated meal that she cooks is macaroni and cheese. The house has four bedrooms: three upstairs, and the master bedroom is downstairs just off the living room.

My sister-in-law hates to have guests over or entertain; as far as my wife and I know the only times that Nicole gets out of the house are when she comes over to our place every couple of weeks to have dinner and some conversation. That conversation is usually about the people at work whom she hates, the job she doesn't find fulfilling, and all of the awful things going on in the news, on television, and at the movies. She's not exactly a peach to hang around.

Except that she's incredibly hot. I wasn't thinking about her backhanded compliments or her nasty disposition as I pulled into her driveway; I was thinking about her flat stomach and long, lean legs.

I wanted to make sure that all of my post-hypnotic suggestions had taken hold, and since I had the night free, I took the opportunity to find out. I unlocked her front door and found all of the lights on, but no one seemed at home. I peeked into Nicole's room and heard the shower running through the bathroom door. Inside the doorway sat an armful of bags from a high-end lingerie boutique downtown near Nicole's office. Tissue paper gushed teasingly from the openings of the bags. I wanted to peek inside, but the water in the bathroom turned off, and I fled the room.

While she was hypnotized, I had suggested to Nicole that she should stop wearing exclusively thong underwear, as she'd done for as long as I'd known her. I checked that box off my list of changes that she'd made.

I went into the kitchen, set the table for two, and plated dinner. Everything was still very hot and smelled spicy and delicious. At the same time, I pulled a bottle of white wine from Nicole's well-stocked wine rack and began flash chilling it in ice water.

"Hello? Is somebody here?" Nicole called from her room.

I knew that she'd be able to hear me puttering around in her kitchen. I wanted to surprise her, not throw her into a panic. "Hey, Nicole. It's me. Your sister abandoned me to my own devices. I hoped that you could keep me company. I brought dinner. The wine'll be chilled in just a minute."

She slammed the door to her bedroom and pounded barefoot into the kitchen. "What the fuck? How did you even get in here? Thanks for dinner, but you can't just come over unin--"

She stopped suddenly in the doorway. My sister-in-law usually wears her hair straight. She spends hours pressing it with a flat iron. Right out of the shower, though, her dark brown hair curled tight and damp, framing her face. She wore a pink silk robe that hemmed teasingly at the middle of her thighs, and the backlighting from the living room revealed that she wore nothing underneath.

When Nicole's eyes met mine, she smiled.

A smile is a powerful thing. Research shows that when someone smiles--even when that smile is forced--their brain releases a powerful mood enhancer. If a person fake smiles enough, they become actually happy and begin to smile like they mean it. I'd given Nicole a post-hypnotic suggestion that she should smile whenever she looks at someone. Another check mark that my sister-in-law had been a very good subject.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't call ahead. I just found out, and I didn't want to go home to an empty house. I have a hot meal and some chilled wine. Let's eat, and then you can throw me out of here. I'll try and remember what it's like to be a bachelor." She was still smiling dumbly at me, so I smiled back at her.

"Um... yeah. Okay. Is that Thai curry?" She sat down at the table. She tucked the hem of her robe underneath her when she sat, but the fold opened, exposing the length of her inner thigh. Following my eyes, she quickly unfolded her napkin into her lap. I poured her a full glass of the wine.

"You have to drink most of this, because you're the one who doesn't have to drive home," I said.

"I have to drink most of this because it's my wine," she said. She took a deep draw from the glass and swished the wine around her mouth before swallowing. "I like this one--not too sweet." She cracked open her chopsticks and dug in.

We chatted amiably enough through dinner. She talked about her work and her week, and I barely listened. She said something about how the barista at her local coffee shop was suddenly flirting with her, and that a co-worker had asked her out for drinks.

"Mmm?" I said. "It's always nice to get some nibbles, right? Are you going to go?"

"Me? Oh, no!" She said, dabbing some curry from the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "I'm kind of--I don't know--" she looked off into an empty corner of the dining room, "--obsessed with someone right now?" She crushed her napkin under her hand, and my eyes wandered from hers down to the inside of her leg. "I don't want to talk about it." I looked back up at her face and she was smiling again. A real smile this time.

"And how have you been sleeping?" After the tidbits that she'd revealed so far this evening, I knew what the answer was going to be. Her persistent insomnia was the whole reason she allowed me to hypnotize her in the first place.

"Oh, my god." She grabbed my wrist just as I was folding noodles into my mouth. "I'm sleeping like a log. Like a child. I can't remember the last time I've felt this rested." She released my hand and took up her chopsticks. She speared a prawn and brought it to her mouth. As she folded her tongue over it, a smear of sauce pressed against her cheek. "I'm sorry. I eat like a pig," she said. Nicole reached for her napkin again.

"No, let me get it." I reached across the table and wiped the sauce off her face with the meat of my thumb. I cupped my fingers under her chin as I wiped it away. I felt the muscles in her neck tense. She was instinctively pulling away; she didn't really like to be touched.

I held her face in my hand. We looked at each other. I pressed my thumb against her lips. She pursed them tight against the gentle pressure. She leaned away from me a bit more. I pushed my thumb harder against her mouth, pulling her back to me with my hand against her neck.

It felt like when a rubber band snaps. Like when a balloon pops. Like when something is taut with strain and pressure and then suddenly breaks, and becomes completely relaxed. Her body strained against my touch one last time, then her lips parted and she took my thumb into her mouth.

She licked the sauce off with a quick flick along the pad of my thumb. Then she ran her tongue all around the tip. Nicole's eyes closed and shoulders slumped. She licked lightly on the tip of my thumb and then plunged it into her mouth until her lips kissed the meat of my hand. She sucked deeply and circled her tongue around my thumb as she withdrew it from her mouth. With a pop she broke the suction against my digit and let go.

Nicole raised her eyes to me. "So. What do we do next?"

"Dishes, I'm afraid. I'll wash, you dry."

"Fine."

She took both of the plates to the sink and turned on the water. I let it run until the sink filled with steam and poured detergent onto the sponge. Nicole took a fresh linen towel from one of her cabinets and stood next to me. Her hair was almost dry, but I could smell the herbal fragrance of her expensive shampoo. I felt the warm, smooth skin of her leg against mine as I scrubbed the plates and glasses and silverware, handing each one over to my sister-in-law in turn. I let her pull the items away from me; the objects completing the connection between us like a circuit. We quickly finished and I turned off the water. She set the last plate into the drying rack.

"You're not going home already, are you?"

"I don't have to." The entire kitchen was empty, and we faced each other in front of the sink. The fronts of our bodies almost touched, but not quite.

"The wine isn't even gone. You have to finish the bottle. If I do it, I'll start making bad decisions." She said this, then took another deep draught. She refilled her glass and looked up at me through hooded eyes. It had been a long time since I really flirted.

"I shouldn't, but I also have no one to go home to," I said. I topped off my own glass, which I'd barely touched. "I saw the bags in your room. Did you go shopping?"

Nicole blushed a little. The color in her cheeks was something I'd never seen before. "Um... yeah. I spent way too much money on nonsense. I couldn't even tell you why I did it."

"Let me see. You can always take them back if they don't flatter you."

"No. I couldn't. Stephanie would kill me." She pressed her hand against my chest. She'd made no motion to flee. If anything, she'd inched closer to me. I smelled her floral perfume wafting from the center of her chest.

"C'mon. I've seen you in your swimsuit. How bad could it be?"

"It depends on what I try on for you." She smiled. The knot on her robe was loosening. She tugged it tight around her waist.

"Fine. Strip club rules. Watching only--no touching."

"Okay. Strip club rules. If you touch me, I'm calling the bouncer." Nicole spun on her heels and shouldered against me out of the kitchen and into her bedroom. I put the dishes from the drying rack back into the cabinets and listened to her rustle through the bags, tissue paper tumbling to her bedroom floor. "Sit on the couch. Strip club rules."

I sat down on the black leather couch of my wife's sister and waited for her to emerge from her bedroom. She didn't take long.

Nicole walked out in bare feet, still wearing her bathrobe cinched tight around her waist. She stood in front of me and untied the cord, revealing an emerald bra and panty set. It wasn't anything particularly daring, or even nice. What it did do, though, is highlight the porcelain perfection of my sister-in-law's skin. She put her hands on her hips and looked at me.

"Well? What do you think?"

"It's fine. Quite nice. It's a great color on you." I shrugged my shoulders. "I hope you didn't pay more than seventy-five bucks for it."

"Are you kidding?" She tossed her head back. "This cost two hundred dollars. Here--look at the back." She slipped her robe off her shoulders and turned around. The back side of the bra and panties were fine lace. Nicole had little dimples in the small of her back that I'd never noticed before. I felt a twitch in my pants.

"Oh... that's much better. See? You just needed a little showmanship."

She turned back around and smiled. "Don't think I don't see what you're doing. Jesus, this floor's cold." She turned the ball of her foot against the tile like she was crushing a cigarette. "I'm going to put on some shoes."

"You should leave the robe," I said.

She smiled at me over her shoulder as she moved back toward her room. "You're not the boss of me," she said. But she slipped the robe off her shoulders, then her elbows, then her wrists and it puddled on the floor behind her. I was left with the image of her dimpled back and lacy backside as she closed the door.

I had another sip of wine and slouched into the hard padding of the couch. I was getting hard and adjusted myself so it might not be so obvious, although I was certain that Nicole wouldn't care. Music came muffled from underneath Nicole's bedroom door. Some soft background music but with a beat to let me know she meant business. Her shadow moved back and forth under the threshold. She turned the lights down in her room.

"Are you ready?"

"I'm getting bored. This club stinks. What does a guy have to do to get some attention?"

My sister-in-law clucked her tongue and walked out. Her ensemble left little to the imagination. The slightly darker tone of her areolas slivered over the white lace of her demi-bra. The bottoms were entirely lace, cut in the boy-short style, accentuating the curve and lift of her ass. Or maybe it was the white, patent leather heels accentuating her legs and ass. I knew Nicole collected shoes, but these were completely impractical: open-toed with five-inch heels.

I could tell she wished she still had her robe--she didn't know what to do with her hands. She clutched them on the back of her neck. She folded them over her chest, then rested them on her hips. Eventually she let them swing at her sides as she vamped over to me. She swished her hips across the living room and stood in front of me.

One leg she kept straight and the other she bent to the toe. The music was louder now with the bedroom door open. "So..." she said.

"So... yeah," I said.

"Put your tongue back in your mouth, big guy," she said. She leaned over and raised my jaw, which had somehow dropped. Her hair brushed against my face. "What do you think?"

"Well, I like the shoes..." I replied. I leaned back on the couch. "I don't know about the outfit. I feel like I need to see more of it."

"C'mon." She stood up and spun on her heels. She tousled her hair with her hands and pushed her ass out into my face. "You really don't like it?"

I produced a dollar from my pocket. "Strip club rules," I said. I tucked the bill into the waistband of the panties. "If you want more, you're going to have to actually dance." I couldn't be sure, but I thought I could smell more than perfume.

"Mmm..." Nicole said. She waved her behind in my face to the beat of the music. She stepped back and turned toward me. She reached above her head and twisted to the music, her eyes closed. Her breasts were smaller than her sister's, but they were still so high and firm. Her stomach was flat and toned. She dipped her body, spreading her legs and writhing to the beat. She rested her hands on my knees as she pushed herself up. The song ended. "Want a dance, mister?" she asked as the next song queued up.

I picked a twenty-dollar bill out of my pocket and rested it on the arm of the couch. "Just one – because it's slow tonight." I slouched into the back of the couch and didn't bother trying to hide my increasing erection.

My sister-in-law leaned her back into me. She smelled like sweat and expensive soap and more expensive shampoo. She leaned up and pressed her hands into her knees and ground her ass into my hard-on to the insistent beat of the music from her bedroom. She turned around and grasped my face in both of her hands and pulled me toward her. I could hear her panting over the music as she pressed my face into her skin. Her body was hot. The song ended, and she swiped the twenty-dollar bill from the arm of the couch. She retreated back to her bedroom, pushing the door behind her. It didn't close completely.

I didn't know what to do. For one, I was running out of cash. I didn't know if this was the kind of place that had an ATM. I pulled out another twenty and folded it lengthwise between my fingers. The softness of her skin echoed on the tips of my fingers, contrasting with the crispness of the bill.

I spent a few moments twiddling my thumbs before I decided to investigate further. The music had stopped and the house was quiet. I went to Nicole's door and peeked around the edge.

"Strip club rules," she purred. She was standing in front of a full-length mirror on the opposite wall, watching me over the shoulder of her reflection. "You're not allowed in the dressing room."

Her forearm draped across her chest. He back was bare. Her panties were high-waisted and complimented her every curve. They were a deep red.

"This is the dressing room? I'm pretty sure this is the V.I.P. area."

"Is that right?"

"It is. Besides, the music stopped. I thought the deejay might be here." I walked over to her stereo and fingered through her digital library. She had an impressive collection. I touched a file, and the first notes filled the room.

Nicole spun around on her toes, which now perched above black platform heels that — if her white shoes were impractical, these were hazardous.

"Really? Def Leppard?" she said. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and across her eyes. She brushed it out.

"I'm just impressed you have this on here." I flicked my finger again and turned on a playlist of slow jams.

My sister in law walked over to me, never taking her eyes off mine. Whether it was intentional or a result of the shoes, she crossed her feet as she walked. Her hips swung. "So," she said, tilting her head to draw my eyes up from her body. "What are the rules in the V.I.P. room?"

"Usually?" I took a half step toward her and placed my hand against the warm flesh of her side. "Whatever the bouncer will let you get away with."

Nicole spun away from my hand. "Well, then." She leaned back against the door. It latched quietly behind her. "Have a seat."

I sat down on the bed; she stalked over to me. Quickly--so I couldn't see anything--she moved her hands over her breasts. Her tongue flickered across her lips. Her bed was laid with black satin sheets. The bed looked messy, but intentionally so, not like it hadn't been slept in and unmade. Sitting wasn't a particularly comfortable position to be in.

"Now, get comfortable." She put her hands on my shoulders and leaned over me. "I think the bouncer has the night off." She started to sway her hips with purpose, to the rhythm of the music. "It's just the two of us." Her breath smelled like wine and desire.

My sister-in-law weaved in front of me, her eyes closed, making the transition from thinking about what she was doing to feeling the moment. She stepped in to me, her waist in front of my face. Her torso misted with her effort. A dark wet patch had formed on the gusset of her brand new underclothes. She rubbed her smallish breasts over my face, pushing each of her nipples against my lips. I resisted the urge to take them into my mouth, instead pressing my hands into the soft flesh of Nicole's sides.

She took this as a signal to continue. She swiveled down in one smooth motion to her needs, and nestled her face in my aching groin. With her mouth and nose, she rooted until she found the length of my shaft. She spread my knees and scratched lightly along the inside of my thighs.

She looked up at me, locking eyes. Through my pants, she wrapped her lips around my cock and buzzed. The feeling was like a thunderbolt up my back into my brain. Instinctively, I pressed the back of her head harder against me. I felt a different pressure of her tongue pressing along my length. All the while looking into deep brown eyes--looking overcome with wanting and passion.

Nicole pushed herself up under my hand until her face was just below mine. She spoke in a whisper: "Fuck me."

"I can't."

She pushed me back until I was lying flat on her bed. She climbed up my body until her soaking pussy was aligned directly over my rock-hard cock. She dug her fingernails across my chest. She ground her body into mine. I felt like I was going to burst out of my pants and slide directly into her. Her voice, barely above a whisper: "Kiss me."