Hypnowife

It had taken years to get my wife comfortable with the idea of hypnosis. She finally consented when she began having trouble sleeping. When I assured her that she could sleep better through a post-hypnotic suggestion, she agreed to try it.

Once under, she was given a key word which would make her relax and available to other suggestions. That was when the fun began.

Knowing something about hypnosis, I realized that the power of a suggestion weakens over time unless it is constantly reinforced. I made a list of suggestions and put them in my wallet so I wouldn't forget to apply them. At the top of the list was to reinforce the keyword which would drop her into a receptive mode. The word was "domino" and it had to be accompanied by a hand placed firmly on her left shoulder. The first weekend after her hypnosis session, I tried it.

We were standing in the kitchen after dinner. The clean-up was just about finished when I placed my hand on her left shoulder and said, "Domino." She immediately relaxed and her head slumped to the left.

"Can you hear me?" I asked.

"Yes," she mumbled softly.

"Good. Now stretch your right hand out to the right and hold it there," I instructed. Her arm rose and stretched out to the right side of her body.

"Fine," I said, placing my hand on her arm. "You can relax it now," and I pushed down. Her arm relaxed against the side of her body, and I was certain she was in the suggestive mode.

"All right. In a few minutes I'm going to let you wake up," I told her. "I want you to remember that when I say the word 'Domino' and place my hand on your left shoulder, you'll return to this state. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said softly. I decided to test the level of her suggestively.

"After I wake you up, you will hear me say the word 'extraordinary'. When I do, you will go to the bedroom, pull out the porn tape, load it into the video and start to play it." My wife has never been a fan of the porno tapes we bought a few years back. If she would do this, I knew her level of suggestion would be excellent and we'd be ready for other greater challenges.

"When it starts playing, you are to come and get me and tell me you want to fuck," I continued. "You will say, 'Come with me. I want to fuck.' Do you understand?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Good. Now, I'm going to count backwards from ten. At five you will begin to wake up. By three you will feel fully refreshed. At the count of one, you will be fully awake. You will not remember these suggestions, but will carry them out." It's a lot like programming a computer, I thought. You've got to tell them everything. I began counting.

"Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, you're beginning to wake up. Four, three. You feel fully refreshed, two, one. Fully awake." Then I kissed her on the cheek.

"Well," I said. "That about does it." I handed her a paper towel to dry her hands. She thought I was talking about the clean up. "How do you feel?" I asked.

"Good," she said. "A little strange, but good."

"What do you mean strange?" I asked.

"I don't know. It's hard to describe."

"But, overall, you feel good?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Nothing extraordinary?"

She stopped in her tracks and looked at me. Then she walked out of the kitchen and headed toward the bedroom. In a minute or so she returned.

"Come with me," she said. "I want to fuck."

I followed her to the bedroom and found that, as programmed, the porn flick was running on the video.

She had three crashing orgasms before I came inside her, the video playing in the background all the while.

"So," I asked her as we lay side by side afterwards, "What was that all about?"

"I don't know," she answered. "I just got this incredible urge to get laid? Did you like it?"

"Why, of course," I answered. "You can come ask me to fuck any time you want."

Three days later I put my hand on her should and said the magic word, "Domino." Karen slumped slightly and I knew she was in a suggestive mode.

In the spare room hung a picture of some sailboats. We normally kept the spare room door closed. The picture was visible from the doorway if it was open."

"Karen," I said, easily, "can you hear me?"

"Yes," she mumbled.

"I want you to walk with me to the spare bedroom. You can walk. But you will not awaken. Do you understand?" I asked.

"I understand."

"Come with me, then," I directed. We walked to the spare bedroom and I opened the door.

"Do you see the picture with the sailboats?" I asked her?

"Yes," she said.

"Good," I began. "Whenever you see that picture, you will get an overwhelming urge to get laid. Do you understand this instruction?"

"Yes," she said.

"All right," I commanded. "When you wake up, you won't remember this instruction, but if you see the picture, the urge to get laid will arise in you. Now walk with me back to the living room and sit where you were sitting before."

She walked back into the living room and sat on the sofa. I gently led her out of her trance state. She awoke and looked at me strangely.

"I must have dozed off," she said.

"Um hmmm," I agreed.

She stood up and went to the kitchen to load the dishwasher. Several minutes later she walked back toward our bedroom. She stopped at the open door of the spare room and looked at the picture. Then she turned and returned to the living room where I sat in my recliner.

"Come with me," she said, urgently. "Come on. Now!" Her manner was rushed and imperious. I arose from the recliner and began to follow her to the bedroom. As she walked she started stripping off her clothing. By the time we arrived in the bedroom she was naked. She turned and grabbed me. Her lips crushed against mine in a passionate kiss. Her tongue drove between my lips as she struggled with the buttons on my shirt.

"What's this?" I asked, innocently as I was able.

"I've got to get laid, baby. Do me now!" she commanded.

I was pleased to comply.

After an energetic session of sex, I arose and closed the door to the spare room. It just wouldn't do to have her bouncing out of bed and back into it ten minutes later. I doubted I could keep up with that pace.

Three days later, after judiciously manipulating that spare room door, we lay in bed following a particularly vigorous rendezvous, she lay on the bed looking at the ceiling.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," she said.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked.

"I've just never been so horny as I have the last few days," she confessed.

"Do you hear me complaining?"

"No, but it's so unlike me," Karen said.

"Well, whatever it is, I like it," I reassured her.

"You don't think I'm awful, wanting to get laid all the time?" she asked.

"I don't think you're awful. I told you, Karen. I'm not complaining."

I knew I should have stopped there. I mean, just by controlling the opening and closing of the door, I had my wife on my sexual schedule. Most couples I know have differing schedule. The husband usually wants it more than the wife. Sometime it's the other way round. Rarely do both have the same arousal pattern. I'd achieved that through the aid of the hypnosis and opening the spare bedroom door at the right time.

But, no. I couldn't leave it there. I had to push it.

It was a Thursday night. We were sitting on the sofa. I'd finished reading the paper and Karen was watching QVC. I put my hand on her shoulder and said, "Domino." She looked at me a second, then closed her eyes and slumped.

I reinforced all the earlier suggestions, then launched into the next element of my plan.

"Do you know Eric?" I asked her. Eric was a buddy of mine from college. He was considered quite the stud. He was a lacrosse player, who had maintained his ruggedly blond good looks.

"Yes," my wife answered softly.

"Eric is a good looking fellow, isn't he?" I asked.

"Yes," she murmured again.

"The next time you see Eric, you will be overcome by and overwhelming need to have sex with him. Do you understand?"

"Yes," she said.

"You may look to me for confirmation, Karen. When I give you the thumbs up signal, you will approach Eric and tell him you want him," I instructed.

"Yes," she mumbled.

"You will not remember these instructions, but will carry them out," I ordered her. "Now, I'm going to begin counting backwards from ten. When I reach one, I will clap my hands. You will awake, refreshed, and you will not remember that you have been asleep. Ten, nine, eight... "

"Why don't you come over for dinner tonight?" I asked Eric the next morning. "I'm going to stop at the grocery and pick up a rack of ribs. I'll have Karen whip up a salad. We'll eat, drink a few beers and have a couple of laughs. Besides, Karen is dying to see you."

"Yeah, right," Eric said with a sneer. "The last time Karen saw me her exact words were, 'You're an arrogant, egotistical shit, Eric.' I'm sure she's dying to see me."

"No, I'm serious. We were talking about you just last night," I reassured him. "I think you'll be surprised at her response to you."

Karen bitched a little when I arrived home at around 5:30 and told her Eric was coming.

"I'm a mess," she said. "I haven't even taken a shower, yet."

"You've got an hour and a half," I told her. "Go take your shower and I'll start the grill. We can just have a salad with the ribs."

She went off without any additional comment.

When Eric arrived a few minutes early, she met him at the door. I watched from the kitchen, just off the entry hall to see what would happen.

"Eric!" she said, in a delighted tone. "You don't know how happy I am to see you." She tilted her face up to him and kissed him squarely on the lips. I knew my suggestion had taken hold of her when her hand slid behind his neck, pulling him to her in the middle of their kiss. When they broke, finally, Eric was astounded.

"Karen," he said in amazement. "I'm really surprised at your warm welcome."

"Oh, don't be so thin-skinned," she told him, her hand resting on his chest. "Let's let by-gones be by-gones. We'll start all over tonight, okay?" she said, coyly.

"Sure," Eric said. "We'll start all over."

"Good," my wife told him. "Now, are you ready to try that kiss again?" She pressed her body against him and kissed him passionately. This time, Eric responded.

"You look good enough to eat," she told him when their lips parted. "You suppose Danny would let us forgo the ribs?"

Eric laughed uneasily. "Probably not," he said. He held out a bottle of wine he'd brought. "Look," he told her. "A peace offering."

"Oh, thank you," she said, wrapping her arm around his and leading him into the den. "You just have a seat here and I'll get Danny to open it for us."

When she came into the kitchen I was busy slicing tomatoes for the salad.

"Eric's here," she told me.

"Good," I replied. "You sound strange," I added.

"Mmmm," she murmured. "I'm feeling really sexy and turned on," she continued.

"Are you," I answered, in more of a statement than a question. "Does is feel good?"

"Mmm-hmmm," she affirmed. "He brought us some wine. You open it and I'll get the glasses."

I rinsed my hands, dried them, then dug in the grab-bag drawer for the corkscrew. I found it, tapped the wine bottle and popped the cork.

"Should we let it breathe?" I asked her.

"It can breath in the glasses," she said. "Pour. I want some now."

I poured. She drank half of her glass in two swallows.

"Is it good?" I asked.

"It's fine. Top me off. I'll take the other one to Eric."

I topped off her glass and filled a second for Eric. "Don't I get any?" I wanted to know.

"One of us should probably stay sober. You're tonight's designated driver," she declared.

"When will the ribs be done?" she asked me.

"About ten minutes. Then give me another five or so to slice 'em up."

"Okay. I'll be in the den with Eric. Call me if you need me."

She was hot to trot. There was no doubt. She left the kitchen and delivered Eric his wine. I watched through the half-open door as she instructed him to sit with her on the sofa. When Eric was settled, Karen knelt down on the cushions next to him, facing him. She placed her wine glass on the sofa table behind the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Dinner won't be ready for another twenty minutes or so," she told Eric. "That will give us time to get reacquainted.

"You know, Eric," she continued, "I just hate that we've been so distant from one another for so long. You're a good looking guy, you know."

"Well, thanks," my friend said. "I think you're pretty terrific looking yourself."

"Then you won't mind if we spend some quality time together, will you?" she cooed.

"Well, uh, no," Eric stammered. "I mean, that is, uh, what about Danny?"

"Oh, he's cooking," she told him.

"No, I mean, you know," he stammered. "You don't think he'll mind?"

"Oh, no. Why, we were just talking about you yesterday. He said I ought to get to know you better." She took his chin in her hand and pulled his face toward hers. "So, I thought we'd do a little exploring." She kissed him again. I could see from the door that she was tonguing his lips, pressing for access to his mouth. Eric didn't offer much resistance.

Twenty minutes later when I carried the trays in with the ribs and salad, Karen had her hand under Eric's shirt. She turned her head as I came in but didn't remove her hand.

"Did you know Eric played lacrosse, Danny?" she asked me.

"I did," I answered.

"He's very strong. His chest is nicely developed. But, his skin is smooth," Karen said.

"Really?" I responded. "That's nice."

"He's going to take his shirt off later and show me his pecs," she said, caressing them under his shirt. "You don't mind, do you, Danny?"

"Not at all," I answered, "if that's what you want."

"I do," she told me. "I want to see them and touch them."

"Uh, say, old buddy," Eric said. "Maybe I need to refill my wine glass. You want to point me to the bottle?"

"Here," I told him. "Just give me your glass. Don't bother yourself."

"No," he said, breaking loose from Karen's grasp and standing up. "I've got to use the john, anyway."

"Down the hall. First door to your left," Karen directed. "If you need any help, just holler."

Eric smiled lamely and walked awkwardly toward the bathroom.

"I do believe you've given him a boner," I told Karen.

"You think so? God, I'm so horny," she said. "You're not going to be mad at me, are you?"

"Of course I'm not going to be mad at you, Karen. I love you, remember?"

When Eric came out of the bathroom he made a bee-line for the kitchen.

"Look, buddy," he started, "I don't know what's with Karen, but she's been all over me like a sheet."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked.

"You mean you don't mind that your wife is throwing herself at me?" he sounded amazed.

"It's all part of the plan, my friend. You relax and have a good time," I told him. "Just let her take the lead. And, whatever happens, happens. You know what I mean?"

"If you say so. Just remember," he said, "this wasn't my idea."

"I know, good buddy," I smiled. "It was mine."

"You're a sick fucker, you know that?" he jibed at me.

"Yeah, I know. Ain't it neat?" I answered. "Come on. Let's go dig into those ribs and get nasty."

Eric refilled his wine glass and followed me out to the den.

The trays with the remains of our dinner were scattered on the coffee table. Karen had made a big deal out of licking the barbecue sauce off of Eric's face. She had curled up beside him again, kneeling on the cushions. Her right hand played with his short blond hair, while her left rested easily on his thigh.

"Well," I said, rising from my chair. "Let me clear these things away. Then we can watch a movie or something."

"I vote for 'or something'," Karen said.

"All right," I agreed. "Just let me get these trays out of here. I'll be right back."

I picked up the three trays and carried them to the kitchen. I swiped the remains into the compactor and loaded the three plates and silverware into the dishwasher. I rinsed my hands, dried them, stacked the trays and returned to the den.

As I sat back down in the easy chair I heard Karen say, "Don't be such a chicken, Eric. I really want to."

"What do you want to," I asked her.

"I want him to take his shirt off so I can see his pecs," she said.

"Karen," Eric protested.

"Oh, come on, Eric," she said. "Here, look." She grabbed the lower end of her midi-tank and pulled upward. "I'll take mine off if you'll take yours off." She swept the shirt over her head and tossed her brown hair. Her full breasts were in view of my buddy.

"Damn, Karen!" Eric said.

"Look," she urged him. "Danny doesn't mind, do you, Danny?"

"Nope," I said, noticing the stirring in my own pants.

"Come on, Eric," Karen said. "Take off your shirt."

Eric unbuttoned the two buttons on his green golf shirt, then tugged it over his head.

"Ooooo!" Karen exclaimed. She put both hands on his chest and began to move them around. "Oh, that feels so good!" she said. Then she leaned over and sucked one of his nipples into her mouth and nibbled at it.

"Ow!" Eric said. "Gently, baby. There's meat attached to that!"

Karen tongued and sucked at Eric's nipple for a couple of minutes. Then she straightened up and looked him in the eyes.

"Your turn," she said. She took her left breast in her hand and held it up to him. Eric, to his credit, did not hesitate a second. He was down on that breast in a trice. Karen began humming a little tune, that shifted into a tiny moan, which grew into a stronger groan.

"Oh, Eric," she cried. "You're making me cum!" With that, she tugged his right hand away from her breast and forced it between her legs.

"Rub me there," she ordered, her hips starting to hump against his hand. Her own hand covered his as she pressed it into the crease between her legs, dry humping him through her shorts.

"Oh, gawd!" she wailed, humping faster and faster on his hand while he tongued and nibbled at her breast with greater speed and intensity.

As her orgasm subsided, she released his hand and wrapped her arms around his head. "Gently, now," she directed. "It's very, very sensitive."

By this time my own member was throbbing and hard as a rock.

"Hey, Karen," I called softly from my chair. "Is Eric's dick as hard as mine is?"

She released his head and placed her hand on this trousers. "I think so," she said. "I can feel a long, hard tube here under his pants."

"And what about you, sweetheart? Are you wet?" I asked.

"Oh, yes. I'm sopping."

"Do you think Eric would like to feel how wet you are?" I suggested.

She looked at me over her shoulder and smiled. Then she stood up and slid her shorts down her thighs.

Eric gasped.

Karen grabbed his hand and placed it between her legs. "Feel that?" she said.

"You are so wet," Eric exclaimed.

"And bare, too," Karen said. "I shaved it just for you."

I was stunned. In our five years together Karen had never shaved her pussy for me. But she had for Eric.

She climbed back on the sofa, her hand keeping Eric's hand clasped to her bald pussy. "Would you like to suck me there, Eric? I'd really like you to suck me there."

Eric twisted around in his seat and eased her backwards. Her knees went into the air and spread wide for him. I watched transfixed as my blond-headed friend dove between my wife's thighs. As soon as his tongue made contact with Karen's bald pussy she began to whimper.

"Oh, yes," she said. "That feels so good. Wiggle it into my hole. Oh, yes. Now lick it all up and down," she commanded. I was stunned. Karen was never vocal in our love-making.