Sororal Marriage Therapy

This is my third entry to the 2018 April Fool's Day Contest. As a warning, the story contains some exhibitionism, some marital infidelity, and a bit of bisexuality. Mostly it's about incest, however. I hope you like it.

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It was a dreary day, and I stopped for a coffee on the way home from work. I was not in a hurry to get home to my wife. It's not that there was any trouble in our marriage, it's just that I was horny and sexually frustrated. I loved my wife, but a significant component of why we married, at least for me, was that we were having over the top wonderful sex at the time. This was no longer the case.

I ran into an old friend Steve, just by chance. I had not seen him in quite a few years, and my wife Louise had never met him, nor had he ever met her. We got to talking, mostly catching up, and when he heard I had married, he slapped me on the back. "She must be quite a little number to have landed you, Billy Boy," Steve said. I'm Bill, but Steve has always called me Billy Boy, mostly I think to get under my skin.

At Steve's request I showed him a few recent pictures of Louise, and he said all the requisite good things about how pretty she was. "Great boobs, too, from the looks of it," Steve added. He always was a bit crude. He wanted some "X rated pix" of Louise, too, and I even had a few on my phone, but I was not about to share them. To pacify him, I showed him one of Louise at the beach in a fairly revealing bikini. He whistled when he saw it.

"You lucky dawg," he said.

Steve could tell something was up, and I guess I needed to talk to somebody, so I told him how when I met Louise, she was - how to put this? -- very sexually active. Once we had fallen in love, she told me some of her previous sexual escapades before I had met her, and wow, they were sizzling hot. We had great sex at the beginning, and I was often simply worn out by her sexual appetite, but happily so.

When our first daughter came along (we have two), Louise's sexual drive downshifted to first gear, and after our second daughter arrived, it went to zero. It seemed never to be a good time to have sex, and she always had a reason not to make love (the classics, mostly: headaches; maybe later; the kids will hear us or worse, discover us; bad time of month; PMS; not in the mood; stress from work, etc.) I felt as if I was constantly being rejected.

Sometimes she would relent. I think she knew I needed to get laid, and she did in fact love me, and she was in fact my wife, and we would do the deed. We would kiss, undress, get in bed, and we would make love. She just lay there, her legs nicely spread, like a female receptacle for my cock, without passion or desire, and afterwards she would say something like, "That was nice." I knew she had forced herself. I appreciated it, her making the effort and all just to please me, but I did not want that. I wanted her to desire me, not simply to acquiesce to my pressure.

I guess I overloaded Steve, because when I finally finished, Steve was speechless. Finally, he managed to say, "Listen Bill, you should talk to a professional about this. It's a real problem, but perhaps it's one that can be solved. Do you know anyone?"

I looked at Steve. I saw real concern in his face. I told him, "That's a good idea. Yeah, I know some people. Thanks for the advice."

Steve then added, after some thought, "You know, Bill, is it possible Louise is depressed? I read somewhere that depression can kill one's sexual desire."

I did not think Louise was depressed, but truth be told, I had never really thought about it. I did know enough to know that sometimes depression can be chemical, and that mild depression can be helped a lot with drugs like Prozac. Maybe I would discuss it with Louise, if I could ever figure out how to raise the subject! Steve and I made some banal small talk, exchanged our current coordinates, and we both left, going our separate ways.

It was time to go home. Louise might begin to worry. I checked my phone and there was a message from my sister Susan. She lived in Pittsburgh, and she was coming to New York for a few days to a week, for work reasons, and did I have time and interest to meet with her while she was in town?

My sister was a sharp cookie, and thinking about what Steve had said, maybe I could pick her brains for ideas on how to reawaken Louise's sex drive? I texted back a big YES, and after a few more texts I had agreed to meet her the very next day at her hotel.

My wife and my sister were oil and water, so when I told Louise that my sister Susan was coming to town, she asked if I could visit with her outside of the home? "She'll want to see the kids," I said. "She is, after all, their aunt."

"How about then Tuesday evening?" Louise suggested.

"Isn't that when you'll be at your book club meeting?" I asked. Those meetings, which I suspected were 70% gossip, 20% complaints about the women's partners, and 10% discussion of the book, lasted well into the evening, and often Louise would get home only at midnight. My wife was clever to suggest Tuesday.

"Why yes, I guess it is," she said smiling to soften the blow, and she added, "Is that a problem?"

"No, no it's fine," I said. I did not really want to see my sister and my wife fight, as they usually did, anyway.

My sister was two years younger than I am, so that puts her at 28 years of age. She lives with her man, but they are not married. "Why should the state play a role in my carnal relationships?" she would say if anyone was stupid enough to ask. She had a pretty face and a body that is the wet dream of every teenage boy. When Susan would visit me in college, my roommate reminded me of a panting dog. She took pity on him one day when I was in my chemistry lab, and she fucked his brains out.

Unfortunately, my roommate Jack not only gave me a much too graphic blow by blow of all the sex he had with my sister, he had even secretly filmed it all, from three different vantage points to boot! He did this of course without Susan's knowledge or permission. I should not have watched it, but I could not stop myself. Then I made him destroy it, the asshole.

The damage, however, was done. Not only had I seen my sister naked, I had seen her giving Jack a blowjob, and also fucking him in three different positions. I even witnessed her having a climax. Now each and every single time I saw her that video came into my active memory. It came into my very active memory.

The visuals were compelling. In one scene my sister Susan was underneath Jack, and all I could see were her two legs sticking in the air on either side of Jack's naked body, as Jack moved up and down above her, fucking her hard and repeatedly. Her feet had socks on, reminding me of a Delacroix painting. Different from Delacroix, however, was that her socks were 'Hello Kitty' socks. What 19-year-old woman wears Hello Kitty socks, anyway? I could hear her moans on the soundtrack. She was loving it. My little sister!

In a different scene, my sister was doing Jack cowgirl style, smiling beguilingly, and then biting her lip in ecstasy as Jack drove her over the top with his much too large cock. I loved watching her generous boobs bounce around as they fucked. I got to see his cock sliding in and out of her as she bounced on top of him.

The sexiest scene, though, was when I could see her entire naked body as she lovingly sucked his cock until he came. My sexpot sister swallowed almost all of his cum, except for a little that dribbled down onto her bouncing boobs. She had Jack lick his own cum off of her boobs.

Many a masturbation session was inspired by that video. I began to get obsessed with my sister, and her enthusiastic, even joyful, carnal nature.

It's not as though the voyeuristic experience of Jack getting it on with my sister was my only erotic memory. My best memory was of April 1, the year I turned 20. This preceded the time of Jack and my sister by a few months.

That April 1 was when some of my friends arranged for a masked girl to seduce me. She was a virgin, and it was best sexual time I had in my life, bar none. I never did learn who the girl was, but I am sure she must have known me already. My best guess is that she was some girl from my high school or something. She was the sweetest lay in all the world. The whole thing is still a mystery to me, and that's part of what makes it so erotic.

Getting back to my sister, another time when she visited me in college, she wore a partially transparent negligee when she slept. I could see her nipples poking at it and I could make out her large areolas underneath it. It was over the top seductive and it drove me to distraction. That's who my sister was, a giant tease, at least when she was around me.

Sometimes I think she knew that somehow I would get a very detailed description of her sexual escapade with Jack. Sometimes I even think the reason she seduced him in the first place was to torment me. On the other hand, perhaps she was horny and he was available, and it's not really all about me? Who the bleep knows, anyway?

I took my sister to dinner after work the night she arrived in New York. She knew right away that something was wrong and she asked about it, and I couldn't help myself, I opened up to her just as I had done to my unsuspecting old friend Steve. I had taken her to a nice, elegant, and expensive restaurant so that we could hear each other talk without shouting. Restaurants in New York can be seriously noisy.

Susan looked upset and concerned. "I know Louise and I often do not see eye to eye," Susan began, "but she's a great woman, and I want to see your marriage work. Maybe I can help?"

"Thanks, Susan, but I don't see how you can help. I do appreciate the sympathy, I assure you," I said. "I'm glad you approve of Louise. I do love her, you know."

Susan nodded. "I know how women think," she said. "If you do not mind the invasion of your privacy, tell me how you go about seducing her, and maybe I can give you a few pointers?"

"Seduce my own wife? What are you talking about? I just ask if she wants to do it. Of course, it's not really that crude; it's more like hints," I said. "Maybe at times the hints are a bit heavy, a little obvious, you know?"

"How erotic!" Susan said.

"Shit, Susan we've been married six years, we have two kids together, and we share the same bed every night. It's not like I'm trying to seduce some sexpot in a bar, you know!" I exclaimed.

We went around like this in circles for a while, and I got more and more agitated when Susan expressed humor, disdain, and then disgust and alarm at my descriptions of how I interacted with my wife Louise.

"There is a proverb for you, Bill. 'I don't know what to do, and therein lies the problem.' Basically, everything you're doing to get to have sex with Louise is pushing her away from you," Susan pronounced.

I was getting exasperated. "Bill, this is getting too personal, too intimate for a restaurant discussion. Let's go to my hotel bar, it will be quieter and we can role play, and maybe that will help?" Susan said.

"Role play? What do you mean?" I asked.

Susan smiled. "You'll be you, trying to get me into bed, and I'll be Louise. After, I'll give you my best insights into how you can modify your behavior to improve your prospects with Louise. It might help, and it can't hurt."

I took her to the hotel bar and we ordered some drinks. A half hour later the bar provided live entertainment, and it was loud. When I say it was loud, I mean we were shouting to each other and still barely heard what the other said. We decided to continue in Susan's hotel room.

Once in her room, Susan excused herself to go to the bathroom, and she returned in her negligee. It wasn't the one that drove me nuts in college, no, it was worse! It was so short it barely covered her privates, and she was not wearing panties. The top kept falling off her bare shoulders. At least it was not partially transparent. I kept thinking of Jack's goddam video and how sexy Susan looked and how she had fucked Jack until he begged her to stop.

"Okay Bill, what do you wear to bed?" Susan asked, smiling sweetly at me.

"Pajamas," I said. "I haven't changed since I was four years old."

Susan got on the hotel phone and called the concierge." My boyfriend forgot his pajamas, can you get some for him?" I heard her say next, "Blue, cotton. Large. How long? Okay, thank you. Yes, you can charge them to Room 429, Ms. Einhorn."

"We have twenty minutes, maybe less," Susan said.

"You're kidding? The hotel is going to provide me with pajamas?" I asked, incredulous.

"That's part of what one pays for in these super fancy hotels," Susan said. "Or more properly, it's what my company pays for when they put me in one of these hotels. It's no big deal, it's Thursday and the stores are open later than usual. They'll just send someone out."

Fifteen minutes later I had my pajamas. "Wear them just as you do at home. No differences. Don't wear underwear if you don't at home, for example."

"When I'm hoping for sex with Louise I wear only the pajama top," I said. "Not the bottom."

"Okay, that's a mistake. You're telegraphing you want sex. It's so not seductive it's not funny. Wear the bottoms. Now what does Louise do in the evening after the kids are asleep?"

"The dishes."

"Use a random number generator and use it to decide when you should do the dishes. Don't make it nights you want sex. It can be those nights, but it should be random. Otherwise when you do the dishes, Louise will know you want sex, and it is off-putting from a woman's perspective."

"I don't get it," I said.

"You want Louise to get close to you, to desire you, right? You don't want to earn brownie points or to pressure her into sex. If you pressure her enough, she'll comply because she loves you, and she wants to please you. That's not what you want, however."

"It's not?" I asked, confused.

Susan gave me a look. It was the look a teacher gives a student who is just not getting the point. "You also want Louise to desire you, right? So, you need a little behavior mod, and it cannot, absolutely cannot, be correlated with you being horny."

"I'm always horny, Susan." I confessed.

"We'll deal with that later," she said. "Okay, the dishes are done. What were you doing while she did the dishes?"

"Reading the paper, reading a book, watching TV, or at my computer," I said.

"Watching porn on the computer?" Susan asked. "Don't bother to answer, I can see the answer on your face. Poor Louise."

"Well, what am I supposed to do?" I asked. "When I offer to help, she always says no, it's easier to do it herself."

"Do you clear the table?"

"No."

"Do you empty the dishwasher so that Louise can fill it up with the dirties?"

"No."

"Do you check on the children? Pay the bills? Put out the garbage?"

"No. Oh, wait. Sometimes, when she asks, I put out the garbage," I contributed.

"Is that because you do not want to deny Louise one of all of those exciting activities? Activities, I might add, that really make a girl feel sexy, sexy, sexy!"

I looked at my bare feet. I was embarrassed.

"Now what does she do when all is done, the dishes, the kids, the bills, the garbage, all of it. This is her time to relax before bed. What does she do?" Susan asked.

"She watches TV. Mostly Law and Order reruns. Sometimes she watches The Big Bang Theory reruns," I said. "Occasionally, she watches the talking heads on TV, if she's in the mood. Sometimes too the local news, especially if there's a storm brewing."

"Who goes to bed first?" Susan asked.

"I do," I said.

"Okay, get into bed. Pretend you're asleep. How does Louise get into bed? Does she cuddle you?" I shook my head. "She gets in with her back to you?" I nodded. "If you want sex, what do you do? Do you reach over and cup her breast and shove your erection against her, perhaps into the crack of her ass, presumably to let her know you're hard?"

I nodded, scared to speak.

"Do you really think that is erotic for a woman, Bill?"

"I'm guessing the answer is no?" I said.

"Good guess," Susan said. "Okay, now pretend you're asleep."

I did as I was told. Susan got into the bed, and she rolled me onto my side so that my back was to her. She then cuddled up to me, pressing her boobs into my back, and touching her knee to the back of my own knee. My cock became as hard as a rock.

I could not believe my sister was doing this. She was clearly naked under her flimsy negligee, and I could easily feel her up, with access to all to all of her! I had to test the waters; what could I get away with? I reached behind myself to caress her ass.

"No! Jesus, Bill, don't you have ANY intuition?" Susan asked.

"Well what am I supposed to do when I feel your boobs in my back and your knee caressing the back of my knee? Jesus yourself, Sis!" I exclaimed.

"Nothing, you moron. You're supposed to do nothing. You need to let the intimacy develop. The slightest friendly gesture of your loving wife should not and cannot be an invitation to sex! Sexual desire is a state of mind. It grows from intimacy. It is not equivalent to it," my sister explained.

"Now let's see how you fuck," Susan said, in a matter of fact manner.

"What?" I said.

"I'm going to get naked, and say "Let's make love. I'm Louise and you're Bill."

"What?" I said.

Susan ignored me and pulled her negligee up and off her head, revealing her naked body, to me, her brother. God, my sister had a fine body. Any red-blooded man who was not gay, presented with a woman's body such as the one Susan had, naked and willing in front of him, would have had the same reaction I had just then. The only differences were that I was married, and she was my bleeping sister!

Susan got on the bed, naked with her legs together. "You're always wanting sex, Bill. Don't you want to make love to your sweet, little wife Louise?"

"What?" I said a third time. "You're Susan, my sister. You're not Louise."

"Listen Bill. I'm trying to help. I've focused up to now on behavior modification, but now it's time to examine the sex, shall we? There's only one way to do that, and my naked body awaits your cock. So, come on, get naked and come to bed," my sister Susan, mustering an angelic expression, said.

To help to convince me, I guess, she spread her legs a little, exposing her pussy to my hungry eyes, and she began to play with it using her fingers.

Just like Louise, Susan did not shave her pussy. Truth be told, her pussy looked quite similar to that of Louise. They both looked fabulous, at least to my eyes. I almost said "What?" a fourth time, but I managed to control myself. I removed my pajamas and Susan got to see my erection. It was as hard and stiff as it had ever been in all of my life.

"Now remember that I'm Louise. I want you to behave with me just as you do with Louise, okay? I know you want to fuck my brains out, and I want you to do exactly that and drive me nuts, even to the edge of sanity itself, but that's not why we're doing this, okay? For now, I'm Louise, and you, you're Bill. This should not be a big stretch of your thespian talents, I imagine." Susan said. She was gently fingering herself as she said all this.

"But you're my sister!" I screamed.

"No, I'm not. I'm your wife Louise. I am acquiescing to your near constant pressure to have sex," Susan calmly explained.

"This is insane, Susan!" I almost shouted.

"Look, Bill. I know you've wanted to fuck me for years. Now I'm about to let you, to help you win back the passion of your wife. I'm making this incestuous sacrifice for the two of you. Don't you dare yell at me," Susan calmly said, as she was getting more and more busy fingering herself, right there in front of me.