Therapy.

She rests her head on his burnt orange chase.

”Can we talk about our last visit?”

”Yes, how have you been since our last session any more dreams?”

She inhales the atmosphere scented lavender and patchouli.

”Yes, I left something out about my dreams well more like someone.”

She sits upright facing the therapist his leg resting on the other his pen attached to his left hand.

Her hands placed by her side; she starts to elaborate.

”Well last time I told you it was the cat that knocked the candle over it was actually your foot that knocked it over I was on top of you—you were erect inside of me you had your hands placed here.”

she points to her hips, tracing her finger to the middle of her lap leaving it there.

He repositions his leg clearing his throat.

”Our bodies are pressed together when the fire starts your face is flush a lot like right now.”

He sets his pen aside, placing the notepad on his desk he is next to her on his burnt orange chase. He imagines what it's like to be her patient.

”Is there anything else you left out?” he says he leads her hand to his bulge his eyes retreat into his lids his chin in the air as she rubs him the right way.

”Can you put me in your mouth?” he pleads.