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Dr Wrong, I Presume

“There is nothing ‘wrong’ with you. Many people have issues with their sexuality, others come to me simply to explore and learn.”

My therapist’s words were reassuring, but I was still uncertain I should be there; perhaps I should just continue being patient. After all, when the right man comes along won’t I just automatically feel the fire that others lust for, write about, sing praises to — the flame that seems to make them burn from the inside out (and that sometimes requires the use of antibiotics)?

“First, you need to relax and not let your inhibitions paralyze you. I can help you do that. Here, let me slip off your shoes. Now put your feet up on the sofa, close your eyes and take a deep breath.”

As the calm, soothing firmness of his voice enveloped me, I felt the wall I’d built up over so many years cracking, then crumbling,  eventually dissolving into nonexistence. He knelt next to me and ever so gently kissed my mouth – just a touch – before his tongue traced the bridge of my nose and lightly tickled first one, then the other of my eyelids. His soft, supple lips nuzzled my ears – nipping playfully at each of their lobes — and explored a tingling path down my neck and into the cleavage below. His fingers gently unbuttoned my blouse, their softness deftly dancing over, then slipping beneath the lace that no longer even pretended to guard my heaving breasts. As he firmly cupped each of them and lightly …

Beep!! Beep!! Beep!!

CRASH!!!

Damn! F@%&ing alarm clock! I reached over and slapped my dream’s intruder off the nightstand with all the force I could muster before my morning caffeine. I felt no sympathy as it collided with the wall – just desserts for having ruined mine.

As I rubbed my eyes and consciousness slowly and reluctantly re-entered the abruptly vacated space between my ears, I revisited my nocturnal fantasy. Lula (my subconscious – you met her in See, I Told You So) had chosen as my wanton, wayward, well-on-his-way-to-a-malpractice-suit therapist, Law & Order’s Dr George Huang.  Yes, Dr Huang is sensitive (I love men who are in touch with their better, feminine halves), he’s smart (I absolutely love highly intelligent men) and he’s as handsome as all get-out (oh, honey, I adore good-looking men).

He’s also openly gay. Clearly, Dr Huang was all wrong for me.

Lula!  What were you thinking? Why not Elliott Stabler?  He’s got feelings, he’s bright and he just sizzles!

Yes, dear, but he also has a hot temper. Stabler is a violent, unstable jack-ass!

Well, let’s try this again. How about that cute little assistant DA, Ron Carver? I’m sure he has feelings somewhere beneath that dorsal fin, he’s definitely brilliant and I love dark chocolate – especially when it covers such a nice pair of …

Yes, dear, and weren’t you warned to stay away from lawyers? He’s a slimy, rapacious jack-ass!

NBC’s nocturnal-nookie-fodder pool was rapidly going the way of Afros, dashikis and platform shoes.

Okay, so let’s change the channel!  You could have chosen my favorite heart-and-all-points-south-to-the-tips-of-my-toes throb Special Agent Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Yeah … ohhh … yeah. Again – good heart, big brain, hot everything! 

Yes, dear, but Gibbs has been divorced three times!  He’s a fickle, indecisive jack-ass!

Seriously? Lula, I know you love me and want the best for me, but Huang? In case you haven’t noticed lately, my danglies are up north, not down south. He wouldn’t even know what to do with mine!

I didn’t hear you complaining last night.

Your something short of sympathetic attitude truly underwhelms me. You’re my subconscious, my guide.  You’re supposed to have my back.

Your back is not your part that concerns me.

[light bulb struggling to glow overhead] Oh … okay; I get it.  Not one of my choices was, by your yardstick, suitable. This is about my “bad boy” thing, isn’t it? Was this perhaps your far more entertaining for you than for me attempt to call attention to my moth-to-a-candle-flame attraction to unavailable men?

If the slipper fits, princess …

Okay; you could have a point. Maybe I do need to work on this.

I’ll discuss it with my therapist tonight …

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About PD Williams

Writer - primarily humorous women's fiction. My secret agenda is to help men become in actuality the visions they think they already are. I point out their many flaws in the kindest, gentlest, most supportive way I know -- gotta protect those fragile male egos -- so we can stop wasting our energy trying to change them. After all, as women, we have more important things to do.

12 responses »

  1. I wouldn’t care and choose Leroy Jethro Gibbs anyway!!!!

    Reply
  2. Ooohhhh I’ve wanted to beat my alarm clock for interrupting my dream before my happy ending.

    Reply
  3. wow. you had me going before you woke up. too funny!

    Reply
    • Pete, thanks for doing what you do! Thanks for the wonderful friends to whom you’ve introduced me! And thanks for your excellent advice delivered with such attitude! Keep up the great work!!

      Reply
  4. You had me going too! What is it about unavailable men that makes women want them? Is it because they’re unavailable? 🙂

    Reply
  5. Well, you might as well dream about the ones you can’t have because the available ones need to be rounded up, put in a sack, hung up and smoked. Sad but it is true.

    Dee

    Reply

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