Web Hosting by Netfirms | Free Domain Names by Netfirms

The Therapy Session

By

AngelRad

The blonde across from me crossed her long, shapely legs. I tried not to notice. She flipped her hair over her shoulder and spread her arms out across the back of the plush armchair.

"I don't know why I'm here," she complained.

Flipping through my legal pad, I came to a fresh sheet, making sure there were plenty underneath that. I was sure I'd fill them all up in this session.

"You're here because Dr. Phillips referred you to me. Whether I can help you or not is up to you."

She gave a little derisive snort. "Duh, I'm not that crazy, you know."

I gave her a tight smile. A quick perusal of her file told me what was obvious to anyone that looked at her. Licentious behavior, overly provocative mode of dress, history of sexual abuse Provocative didn't begin to describe her attire. She wore the microest of mini skirts, a red leather affair that showed acres of leg, a matching red leather halter-top that revealed an expanse of toned midriff, and red patent leather four-inch heels. If her appearance was any indication, this girl needed my help in the worst way.

She leaned forward, a mischievous smile showing the dimples in her cheeks. She took my nameplate off of my desk.

"Dr. P. Dean," she said, reading the gold-plated letters. "So, what's your first name, Doc?"

"I'd really rather not…"

"Geez. Uptight much? If I'm going to give you the most intimate details of my life, the least you could do is give me a name."

"It's Patricia."

"Patricia's cool. You can call me Honey. Everybody does."

I glanced at the name typed in the file, not the same. "Sure," I said. "So, um..Honey, what would you like to talk about today?"

"Well, you're the shrink. Tell me what you want to hear. I'm sure Dr. Phillips told you all my little secrets, didn't she?" She nodded knowingly. "Patient displays marked bi-polar tendencies, blah, blah, blah." She looked up at the ceiling then back at me. "She needs to get laid."

"Umm hmm," I mumbled while covertly scribbling down my observations on the legal pad.

Honey leaned in further, trying to catch a glance at what I was writing. I moved the pad to my lap. She gave me a narrow-eyed assessing stare then smirked.

"And I might say the same of you, Doc," she said. "When was the last time you went on a date. Don't tell me. I'm thinking 14 months. I'm right aren't I? Why is that? You're not bad to look at. Nice eyes, pretty green. Though, I'd grow my hair out if I were you. The color is good. I'm into the blonde. But, that shag look is so 90's."

I shifted in my chair, trying to hide my discomfort. She was right. It had been more than a year since Parker had left. How did she know?

"We aren't here to talk about my life, Honey," I said soothingly in my best 'I care' voice. "Why don't we just get right to the heart of the matter. Tell me about your family."

"Now there's a touchy subject. Go for the throat why don't you." She heaved a deep sigh, slipped off her shoes and curled her legs up underneath her. How she did it without exposing herself, I'll never know. "It's kind of complicated."

I sat back in my chair, crossing an ankle over my knee, and waited for her to go on.

"You see, my dad…he was way too involved in his job. I mean, like, I hardly ever saw him, ya know? It was such a bummer. So I think that started the need for attention. He's dead now. That was a real hard time. Plus, well we were like major dysfunctional from the get go. I've got a lot of brothers and sisters, most of them step or illegitimate. Some of them are cool. But I have this brother. He's real destructive, into all kinds of bad stuff."

"This is the same brother that molested you?" I interrupted, wanting to catch her off guard.

She let out an irritated 'humph'. "You make it sound all perverted. No, that's just the way we did things where I'm from. We had a relationship for awhile. It just didn't work out, okay. It's way old news. No hard feelings. I am totally okay with it."

"So you are saying you consented to have sex with your brother."

Cocking her head to one side, she fixed me with a penetrating stare and answered, "I'm detecting a bit of a fixation on the sex, Doc. What do you want? Do you want me to tell you if it was good? It was. How about I fill you in on some of my other encounters. Would that do it for you? There was this time with these twin brothers…"

I held my pad up in the air to halt her little speech. "No details, please. And I think you've got that backwards. The fixation on the sex is why you were sent to me. So can we get down to those feelings, please? I don't want to waste anymore of our time."

Honey pursed her lips in a secretive smile. "I wouldn't waste my time, sweetie. I'm here for a reason. You want to talk about feelings? You got it. Those are my specialty."

"Good," I said, my pen poised.

"How about this. Have you ever been so in love that you can't imagine what your life would be like without that one person? That you'd rather die than be without them?" she asked. "Have you ever felt… I don't know… incomplete? What about on fire with a thousand emotions that you just can't name and all you want to do is keep on burning?"

I felt a slight flutter in my stomach. Cold sweat trickled down the back of my neck.

Damn her for stirring up my insecurities!

I thought of those months with Parker, the emptiness, the longing.

"Have you?" she persisted.

"No!" I snapped. "I haven't."

She crinkled her nose, smiling like I'd just given her a present. "Oh, pumpkin! You will. Trust me. It'll happen."

I slammed the notepad on the desk, stood and stretched, running a hand through my bangs. I turned my back to her, something I never do with my regular patients. The skyline view from the window didn't have its regular calming effects.

"Look," I said a little hoarsely "It's really none of your business, but if it will help you to face your own problems, I can play show and tell. Last year, I had to tell my fiancé I couldn't marry him. He wasn't a bad guy. I just realized I wasn't in love with him, that I would never love any man…"

I paused, but no snappy answer was forthcoming so I went on. "I came out last year. It's just been very strange for me. I have been reluctant to pursue any kind of relationship so far…."

I sighed. It felt good to say it out loud. "So, now can we talk about you?"

Silence. I turned around to face an empty chair. Honey was gone. I hadn't even heard her go. I buzzed my secretary.
"Deanna, did you see my patient go through the waiting room?"

"No boss."

Puzzling. I sat back down at the desk, hands resting on Honey's file. I flipped it open, skimming the inside page till I came to a phone number.

I dialed the number.

"Zena Phillips," a smoky voice answered.

"Dr. Phillips? Hi, my name is Patricia Dean, Dr. Patricia Dean. I'm calling about a patient you referred to me. I'd like to get together and talk to you about her case if you don't mind."

"Um, sure… What is the patient's name?" she asked.

"Honey… I mean," I glanced down at Honey's real name. "… Aphrodite Olympus, she calls herself. Ring a bell?"

***

Sex is my bread and butter. They all come to me for it. I am the expert and they pay me well to teach them all I know.

So, it was with a slightly jaded but businesslike air that I regarded my visitor.

The girl was young. I hadn't expected that. And she was very attractive; petite, blonde. The moss green of her angora sweater brought out the green in her hazel eyes. Not my usual client, but it happens to all kinds. Sweeping a stray tendril back from my face, I tucked it back in place and smiled my professional smile.

"I'm Dr. Phillips," I said, extending one hand and smoothing my tailored pinstriped jacket with the other. "Did they get you something to drink? Coffee? Water? Soda? My sessions tend to be a little grueling. So if you need anything let me know."

The girl looked confused. Her dark brows drew together. She shook her blonde head. "No, I'm not here for a session," she said.

Now it was my turn to be confused, something that almost never happened to the city's best sex therapist. I pride myself on the absolute efficiency of my office, my entire life really. I have no room for surprises. Sex means ecstasy, fantasy, and love to most people. To me, it was just business. I couldn't afford to get on that heated roller coaster again. I'm not the kind to wait in line for the ride. My ex hadn't been the most faithful of life partners. He told me I was too uptight.

Me.

I sit and talk about S&M fantasies with people all day and I'm uptight? I was burned by him, sure. But a year will heal quite a bit.

I glanced down at my planner. Two o'clock-Patricia Dean.

"Your name is Patricia Dean, right?"

"Yes, Dr. Patricia Dean. I called you last week regarding a patient. You don't remember?"

I flipped through my mental rolodex. She'd called about a girl. Yes, I remembered, all too well.

"Aphrodite."

Dr. Dean nodded. I noticed a slight flush made the girl's fair cheeks burn. She was alarmingly cute. Why should I notice that? I'm open about other people's sexuality. God, am I. But, women had never been on the food chain for me. I returned my attention to the girl's obvious distress, sitting back down in my leather chair. I clasped my hands on the desk, absently straightening the blotter resting on top.

"You see, there's a problem… I'll try to explain. I do remember her. The girl made quite an impression. God, that was a weird hour. I can't really go into all of it, you understand." I paused. The tension in the room was getting thick. I'm paid to sense these things. But they had never before gone beyond my control. I turned my chair away slightly, avoiding those eyes. "Here's the thing. She was a little disturbed, sure. But I never referred her to you. At the end of the appointment, she just disappeared. I never heard from her after that. Then you called."

Dr. Dean's eyes widened making her look even more young and innocent.

"But, that can't be." Dr Dean sputtered. "I have her file with your number in it."

I shrugged. "I never forwarded the file to you. I don't know why you have it. She could have faked something like that. She was extremely odd, but intelligent, I think. That's the impression I got."

"The impression I got," repeated Dr. Dean thoughtfully. "I know this is bending the rules a bit, but I really need to know what's going on here. Can you tell me a little bit about what you and she talked about?"

I turned my chair back. The look I encountered on Dr. Dean's face disturbed me more than a little. It was so open, so vulnerable.

"I'd really rather not…" I said, vividly recalling all of the details I had let slip during that strange session. It was my turn to blush. There were things I said to that girl that I swore I would never repeat to another living soul. I could just imagine what this innocent looking doctor would think of me if I told her.

"I'd rather not…. That's what I said… to Honey," Dr. Dean murmured. "Please. Don't ask me why this is so important to me. I really couldn't say. I mean, I care about my patients. But this one… I know it's unethical. But, if you could tell me what she said, I think I could sleep nights again."

She did look as if she'd missed a few hours of sleep. But the purplish smudges underneath her eyes only made her look more young, like a little girl.

I'm losing it.

"It's out of the question," I said curtly. I stood up and offered her my hand again to indicate that this interview was over

But she didn't shake my hand as I expected. She took it in her own hands, drawing it close to her chest. I had to lean further across the desk so that I wouldn't be off balance.

"Please," she begged in a small voice. I felt her heart thudding, and as she breathed, the softness of her breast against my fingers.

A ragged sigh escaped me before I could help it.

I reluctantly extracted my hand from her grasp. "Okay. Okay. God, I don't know why I'm doing this."

Then she smiled at me, and I did know. It was pure brilliance, her smile, all sunshine and warmth and goodness. I'm not a poet in any sense; but that smile made me want to run out and write sonnets.

I got up. Turning away from her when she was looking at me like that was difficult. But, I didn't want to see the way her face would change when I told her about that session.

"It was fairly normal at first. She came in, and, well, you've seen the way she dresses. My first thought was nymphomaniac. But she wouldn't answer any of the standard questions. She kept countering them with questions of her own."

"What questions?"

I didn't want to do it. I couldn't make myself say the words. Inside, I was seething with the shame and embarrassment. What would she say? I crossed my arms, clasping my elbows, shivering even though I wasn't cold.

"She asked me if I thought she was pretty. She asked me if I ever dreamed…"

"Yes…" she prompted, her voice thick with some unidentifiable emotion.

"…if I ever dreamed about what it would be like with a woman…"

Silence. I think I stopped breathing. That wasn't even the worst of it. God, how could I tell her the rest? I'm a doctor. Dare I admit the things I'd done? It could ruin my career.

Then, as if she had tapped into my thoughts, she whispered, "I swear nothing you tell me will leave this room. It's between you and me."

Why did the palms of my hands begin to tingle when she said that? I shook them out, trying to shed the feeling. Suddenly, I got the strangest sensation, like my life was unraveling; the girl, Aphrodite, had snagged it and now the woman behind me was here to yank on that loose end and wreck the whole thing.

And why should that encounter be any different? I've had patients come on to me before, even women. It's a job hazard. You can't just flay people open, expose their hidden desires, and not expect some backlash. In every situation, I handled it with cool professionalism, until she walked through the door.

"Actually, I'd almost convinced myself that none of it happened, that it was just some bad fish I ate for lunch or something. You're a doctor, when I tell you what I have to say, you're going to want to have me committed."

"You can trust me." From her, those words didn't sound like just a line, or some platitude doctors tell patients. I believed she really meant it. "Besides, I left my straight jacket back at the office."

Leather creaking, she was standing up. Oh god, she was coming over to me. I began to tremble and fled back to my chair before she could touch me again. I sat down hard, sending the chair scooting back a few inches.

I think I heard her laugh.

"It can't be that bad," she said. I heard leather creaking again. When I turned, she was sitting opposite. Her face, two parts porcelain doll and one part siren, was expressionless. "What did you say next?"

"Say?"

"When she asked you… that."

Though I was completely still, sitting with my hands clamped around the edges of my chair, my universe was spinning. I took a deep cleansing breath and let go.

"Yes. I told her yes. Then I told her what I tell all my homosexual patients. 'It's perfectly natural to admire other women. I said, 'If you have sexual thoughts about women, then you should be open to them.'"

"And she said?"

"She asked me if I… Well, she said, 'Do you enjoy being such a hypocrite?"

I didn't want to tell her the rest. Before I could answer, the girl, Aphrodite, was sitting on my desk, right in front of me. I told her to go back to her chair. She refused. I'd tried to put some distance between us, but before I could get up, she'd wrapped her legs around the armrests in my chair. I stood up and tried to get around her, but she wouldn't let me by.

"I'll call security."

This only made her laugh. Next thing I knew, she'd thrown the phone… ripped it out of the wall and threw it across the room.

Dr. Dean was studying me, waiting patiently for me to continue. I don't know why I felt like telling her anything. I'm not exactly the sharing type. I have never been one to practice what I preach. Sighing, I gave her a very abbreviated version of events.

"I don't know what your sessions are like Dr. Dean, but mine have never involved throwing things. She made me angry. I'm not a small woman, as you can probably tell. I tried to push her off and I couldn't make her budge…not an inch. It was the strangest… well, no the next part is the strangest."

I took a second to see how Dr. Dean was absorbing all of this. She appeared calm and relaxed, as if I were telling her a bedtime story instead of this farfetched bit of nonsense.

"She wasn't quite as belligerent during our session," she commented, then nodded to indicate she'd like to hear more.

"She said she'd get down if I… if I kissed her."

"What? Well, that's just ridiculous…"

"That's what I said. She just laughed… I think she said, 'It's just a little kiss, sweet pea. I promise I won't bite.' I've had patients taunt me like that. I've had offers. Normally, I just talk them down. When a patient makes sexual suggestions to their therapist, generally it's just a need for confirmation and approval. This was different. 'One little kiss will change your life, doc,' she said."

I stopped there, suddenly remembering, with vivid clarity, the moments that followed that statement.

"Did you?" Dr. Dean asked. She sounded much less calm.

"She was there in front of me, her face only inches away. I don't know what it was. You're gonna think I'm crazy but suddenly, I just felt free, as if nothing else in the world mattered. She put a hand on the back of my neck and pulled me to her. I didn't resist…."

"And then?" Her voice sounded about an octave lower, and gruff. But I didn't have time to think about why. I was wondering how I would ever explain what happened next.

"We kissed. But we didn't. I… I don't know. I know that one moment, I was leaning forward to kiss her and the next, I wasn't kissing her. I was kissing someone else."

I took another deep breath and then cleared my throat. "It didn't even feel like I was in my office anymore. I was outside, under the stars. I remember feeling cool air on my bare arms. But someone was keeping me warm. My god, it was the most exquisite feeling. I felt warm lips on mine, and a body, almost as familiar as my own, pressed against me. And I felt love. I don't know why. I just knew that the person that I was holding was the only person I wanted, forever. I know it sounds clichéd. I know you probably won't believe any of this anyway. But for that split second, I felt complete. Then it was over. I opened my eyes and the vision was gone. And Aphrodite was gone."

I couldn't tell about the frightening void that vision had left in me. I hadn't even known it was there until that moment. It had taken me days to stop shaking, thinking over and over about how alone I felt. But, with absolute willpower, I did stop thinking about it. I ignored the emptiness and could have continued like that forever. But this woman in front of me had undone all of my efforts.

"So that's my story. Unbelievable, I know. But, it happened. You can think what you like. I don't care. I just don't care. It doesn't matter anyway."

I put my face in my hands and just sat there. The void now felt like a lump of ice in my stomach, freezing out all of my emotions. With absolute hopelessness, I realized it was never going to melt, never.

"But I do believe you."

I lifted my head. Dr. Dean's face was still expressionless. She was making fun of me, I thought.

"Sure you do," I said, burying my face again.

"I do," she said. I looked up. She was standing next to me. I hadn't noticed until that moment how small she was. Standing there, she was exactly as tall as I was sitting down. She edged past me, hopping up to take a seat in front of me, on my desk.

"That's not funny," I said. But her face was completely serious.
"It's not a joke. I want you to do me a favor. Consider it an experiment."

I shook my head. "No. Look, I think you're cute. But, I'm not…"

And just as before, my denials meant nothing. She leaned forward and captured me with her kiss.

The ice inside melted in an instant. The void was obliterated completely, filled to overflowing. Night air brushed our cheeks. I knew if I opened my eyes, I would see stars against the blackness. Her lips were velvet, warm and pliant and yielding. Her tongue traced the outlines of my mouth and my whole body shuddered. It was a touch I had been waiting for for a thousand years, it seemed, and yet it was so utterly familiar. I had never wanted anything so much, nor been so completely satisfied.

After an eternity, I felt her withdraw from me but I didn't want to open my eyes. I wanted to see her, the night and the stars more than anything. But if they weren't there, if they had disappeared too, I knew I would be crushed. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer. I forced myself to look.

The sight I beheld was more beautiful than the night or the stars. She was golden; her smile radiated joy, blinding me with its brilliance. And it was all directed at me, this sunshine. I was overwhelmed.

"I… I don't know what to say," I mumbled stupidly. "I don't... I've never... I feel..."

She put her arms around my neck and laid her head against my chest, fitting against me perfectly, as if she was made to nestle there.

"Complete," she said, smiling contentedly. "I believe the word is complete."

The End

AngelRad's Fiction

Dreamcatching