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The psychiatrist looks young he seems Italian she sits opposite looking at his eyebrows thick but not too much so and his lips opening and closing as he speaks but she isn’t listening she’s wondering if he’s married where about he lives what size his house is how he looks undressed he leans forward his words slower now as if he thinks her imbecilic or maybe deaf he emphasizes his words his Italian accent coming through o what wonderful eyes what flesh his 9.0’clock shadow gives a blue tinged to his skin he gestures with hands opening them outward like some trader selling her something dodgy she can smell his aftershave it invades her nose makes her nerves tingle her knees touch she lets them spread beneath the desk to the limits her nightdress allows he sits back in his chair his words back to fast speed over her head his gestures are by fingers now pointing and twirling his eyes dark intense like Nietzsche’s she thinks she leans forward air pushing between her thighs as she spreads her legs as much as possible under his desk life’s one big adventure she thinks one big dare she puts her elbows on his desktop wearing no underwear but he doesn’t know it doesn’t show but if it did what then? what would he say or do? the window is open the sky a bright blue.
0
Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 3:26 AM UTC
GINA AND THE QUACK.
The psychiatrist looks young he seems Italian she sits opposite looking at his eyebrows thick but not too much so and his lips opening and closing as he speaks but she isn’t listening she’s wondering if he’s married where about he lives what size his house is how he looks undressed he leans forward his words slower now as if he thinks her imbecilic or maybe deaf he emphasizes his words his Italian accent coming through o what wonderful eyes what flesh his 9.0’clock shadow gives a blue tinged to his skin he gestures with hands opening them outward like some trader selling her something dodgy she can smell his aftershave it invades her nose makes her nerves tingle her knees touch she lets them spread beneath the desk to the limits her nightdress allows he sits back in his chair his words back to fast speed over her head his gestures are by fingers now pointing and twirling his eyes dark intense like Nietzsche’s she thinks she leans forward air pushing between her thighs as she spreads her legs as much as possible under his desk life’s one big adventure she thinks one big dare she puts her elbows on his desktop wearing no underwear but he doesn’t know it doesn’t show but if it did what then? what would he say or do? the window is open the sky a bright blue.
terry-collett
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Feb 1, 2013
Feb 1, 2013 at 3:26 AM UTC
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