I screamed as loud as I could but the gag was tight and nothing but a low moan came out. The tears were streaming from my eyes as I saw Balzac run out...of the garage to be replaced by the twin headlights of Mike's car. Mike had seen Balzac run from the building and was laughing as he drove under me, into the garage. He jumped from the car carrying the door remote control in his hand and without saying a word climbed up and rubbed the tortured breast. He carefully removed the other nipple clamp. I was still slightly dazed. ‘What have you done with your hair Chrissy?’ Chrissy? No one had called me Chrissy since high school. How did he…? Oh shit! ‘You were that God damn senior who made my freshman year hell!’ I yelled at him. ‘Why, why did you do that? Do you know how long it took for kids to stop calling me that? Why the hell are you even in Florida? You moved to fucking California after high school!’ ‘That what? You mean Prissy?’ he looked at me shamefaced. ‘I’m sorry.’ Even in my. Im 56 years old, and Ive been married to the same woman for 22 years. I make my living as a psychiatrist. I specialize in nothing in particular. Over 80% of my patients are suburban housewives who spend their husband hard earned money to lay on my sofa to bitch and moan about him not listening to her needs. Its such bullshit. But it pays the bills. Recently I attended a three day seminar on sexual counseling. This enabled me to list sexual therapy on my list of qualifications. Was I really. ’ ‘Then ask me out.’ Suzanne would never know why she blurted that out. She was fifteen years older than Martin. Worse, he was her client. Any romantic involvement was a blatant conflict of interest. She could be disbarred. She never did anything on impulse, muchless did anything as irrational as this. But she needed to have a little fun as badly as Martin did. Her love life was as bereft as his. She was lonely and on the verge of burning out. And she liked him. He was intelligent and.
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