Dr. French & the Dirty Dream
July 24, 2011 § 5 Comments
“When did he get so agitated?” Dr French was suddenly holding his wrists down. There were small pops and her fingers turned red with his blood.
“After lunch. He said something about …men wearing…masks” A deep voice boomed, god-like in its tenor.
“Give him something give him…” Was that a skipping record? A parrot?
“Maybe the loose restraints.” Right close to his ear, Dr. French uttered these words and reached across him, her skin and sleeve grazing his bare belly, right where the hair started before his waist band…
“NO!” Manny woke up drenched in sweat. And erect. “Jesus.” He uttered in a shaky voice. He sat back, distractedly maneuvering himself till he was comfortable again. What did it mean?
“What do YOU think it means?” Dr. French said while trying to untangle the beads of her necklace. She rarely wore jewelry or her hair down and here it was, both in one day. Her hair was full curls giggling around her ears and face when she turned or nodded. He had boldly brought the dream up anyway.
“Wow, really? God, I mean is that in a script you guys have?” He stood up and went to her candy jar and pulled out a fireball. Popping it in his mouth with a squeeze of plastic, he plunked back down on the sagging sofa and again returned his attention to Dr. French. She had paused in fixing her beads to stare at him.
“You’ve never been so confrontational. What has you so upset?” She asked, slightly indignant.
“I woke up erect from a dream where you were restraining me and I had slit my wrists. That wouldn’t worry YOU?” He looked at her incredulously and threw up his hands in frustration.
“Im not Freudian.” He laughed out loud and a sneak chuckle escaped her tight face. “Let’s talk about the blinds.”
“The blinds?” He said with the heavy sighs of someone already weary of the healing process.
“Yes. Last week you told me you don’t like the blinds open. That Julia comes over and opens them and as soon as she leaves, you close them all again. Why is that?” Manny went to respond quickly, but found himself at a loss. He had a reason, didn’t he? Quick, stall!
“Why do I wait till she leaves? I don’t want her feelings to be hurt.” Excellent he thought while still turning over rocks for a rational reason for his actions.
“No, Manny. Why do you want them closed?” With a patient look on her face, she smiled gently, telling him to take his time, but to be honest.
“Oh.” He had to face it, he had nothing. “I never thought about it. It just…feels better that way I guess.”
“Huh.” With a noise of thoughtfulness, Dr. French got up and opened the blinds of the half window all along her office. People were walking the halls and glancing casually in. Manny swallowed loudly. “This ok?”
“Sure.” He responded, turning back to her and trying hard to concentrate. What was the world seeing in their side view of him, what imperfections, what must they think of the serious and beautiful woman with the sagging chin, bristly, chubby, dark…STOP.
“Let’s continue then.” She said, touching the pen to her tongue and returning to her notes.
Later that night, Manny looped the strings of the blinds around Julia’s wrists. He fucked her until he passed out, leaving marks on her arms the next morning. Julia kissed him after her cereal and left. Then he closed the blinds except the one in the bedroom. Guess we broke it, he thought, and left for work yawning for lack of sleep.
I Love Gossip:
Tagged: Dr. French, I also write stories, Manny, sex, this is just a chunk of one, wet dream
I have to say, Dr. French is a manipulative bitch man, I’d be scared to have her as my therapist! Although maybe I wouldn’t have spent so many years on the sofa if she was haha!
There is an odd feeling, reading the mind of another, it is more than voyeuristic, not just watching, but walking around Manny’s mind is delightful in a scary kind of way.
I’m squealing with delight!
Thank you!
just amazing ev… it always seems that you have exactly what i need…. is this from your story? pleaaaase, i would love to read some… maybe i”ll send you some of mine and you can send me some of yours?…
oh and by the way:
please read this..
http://belladonna23.wordpress.com/2011/07/25/please-dont-go/
and i’m going to ask you what i’ve been asking everyone..
we are emotional, like animals under flesh, aren’t we?
Of course we are.
If we weren’t, love wouldn’t exist.
Evelyn, I have returned to read this four times this morning … there is something here that I cannot yet define. I think it has something to do with “Men wearing masks.” Whatever it is, I love this piece!
L