Michael
He sat and stared as she talked, as he did every week. He gazed at her hair, golden brown and tumbling artlessly down her back, the nuances of her expression, at the gentle slope of her neck as she looked at the artworks on his walls.
It was absolute torture.
He shifted in his seat, hoping she would not notice his growing arousal, his body betraying his inner turmoil.
“And I just felt, so, so struck by the unfairness of it all!” She said, turning suddenly to look deep into his eyes. Michael mentally shook himself, refocusing his attention on what she was saying. “You are grieving”, he said, “and death can feel particularly meaningless.”
Sarah looked at his wall clock and then back at him, “I guess thats the end of our session for the day?” she said, before looking down at her hands twisting in her lap. Michael gave her a slightly strained smile, “yes,” he said, “but we can continue this discussion next week.”
As he walked her to the door of his office, Michael allowed himself to gently place his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through to the corridor. It was impossible to resist this small action, although he knew it was somewhat inappropriate.
“See you next week then” said Sarah, smiling brightly before turning and walking away down the passage. Michael turned back into his office, throwing himself into his customary chair and raking his fingers through his hair, while sighing in frustration.
What a mess, he thought, I’m supposed to be a professional.
He definitely needed to refer her to a different therapist, he was completely infatuated with this woman. Michael closed his eyes and thought about how badly he had wanted to cross the line today.
Sarah had been talking about her feelings of grief and helplessness in the wake of her father’s passing, and she had looked so vulnerable, so in need of comfort, of caring. He had lost all objectivity. Instead, he had sat there fighting the urge to go and sit next to her, to take her in his arms and hold her, rock her ... kiss her.
Michael imagined the feel of her lips on his, how he would cup her face as he slowly deepened the kiss, the hot feel of her mouth. He would finally get to run his hands down that graceful neck, before nibbling and sucking his way down her throat - hitting all those sensitive spots he knew would make her breath catch, her heart race.
What would those first breathy gasps sound like, he thought? His pants grew tighter just thinking about it.
His hands curled into fists. Damnit! Stop torturing yourself.
He mentally shook himself, his next patient was due soon and he needed some air. He decided to take a break from his office, go outside and smoke a quick cigarette while he composed himself before they arrived.
As he stalked out the door and around the corner to his usual smoking spot, he tried to objectively examine his feelings for Sarah. He had never had such an intense reaction to a patient, or any woman for that matter, before. Of course he had experienced transference between himself and a patient, but he was always able to see it for what is was and redirect it in a healthy manner. Normally it was his patients who ended up thinking they were in love with him.
“And I just felt, so, so struck by the unfairness of it all!” She said, turning suddenly to look deep into his eyes. Michael mentally shook himself, refocusing his attention on what she was saying. “You are grieving”, he said, “and death can feel particularly meaningless.”
Sarah looked at his wall clock and then back at him, “I guess thats the end of our session for the day?” she said, before looking down at her hands twisting in her lap. Michael gave her a slightly strained smile, “yes,” he said, “but we can continue this discussion next week.”
As he walked her to the door of his office, Michael allowed himself to gently place his hand on the small of her back, guiding her through to the corridor. It was impossible to resist this small action, although he knew it was somewhat inappropriate.
“See you next week then” said Sarah, smiling brightly before turning and walking away down the passage. Michael turned back into his office, throwing himself into his customary chair and raking his fingers through his hair, while sighing in frustration.
What a mess, he thought, I’m supposed to be a professional.
He definitely needed to refer her to a different therapist, he was completely infatuated with this woman. Michael closed his eyes and thought about how badly he had wanted to cross the line today.
Sarah had been talking about her feelings of grief and helplessness in the wake of her father’s passing, and she had looked so vulnerable, so in need of comfort, of caring. He had lost all objectivity. Instead, he had sat there fighting the urge to go and sit next to her, to take her in his arms and hold her, rock her ... kiss her.
Michael imagined the feel of her lips on his, how he would cup her face as he slowly deepened the kiss, the hot feel of her mouth. He would finally get to run his hands down that graceful neck, before nibbling and sucking his way down her throat - hitting all those sensitive spots he knew would make her breath catch, her heart race.
What would those first breathy gasps sound like, he thought? His pants grew tighter just thinking about it.
His hands curled into fists. Damnit! Stop torturing yourself.
He mentally shook himself, his next patient was due soon and he needed some air. He decided to take a break from his office, go outside and smoke a quick cigarette while he composed himself before they arrived.
As he stalked out the door and around the corner to his usual smoking spot, he tried to objectively examine his feelings for Sarah. He had never had such an intense reaction to a patient, or any woman for that matter, before. Of course he had experienced transference between himself and a patient, but he was always able to see it for what is was and redirect it in a healthy manner. Normally it was his patients who ended up thinking they were in love with him.
Wait, love? Where had that come from! God, it was worse than he thought, not that he was really in love with her.
Michael leaned back against the wall and took a long drag on his smoke. He needed to make an appointment with his therapist soon, to discuss his growing obsession, as uncomfortable as that conversation would be. Until then, he would put Sarah out of his mind. Maybe he should go out for a drink after work and relax for a change, his buddy Mark was always telling him he worked too hard.
A/N welcome to the story! Please feel free to share thoughts, comments and maybe like and follow ~
