My best friend going back to second grade was Dave. He's a great guy, but has one bad habit. Since he was about 12 Dave was a smoker. Whenever we went out he had to find a place where he could smoke. I can't count the times I sat outside a bar on a January day, freezing my ass off, while Dave enjoyed a cigarette. I'd guess he goes through three packs a day.
On this particular day, Dave and I had planned on meeting at the Irish Rose, a bar near my office, with a nice outdoor patio, but today the weather was a little chilly. Dave wasn't out there, so I poked my head inside and saw him sitting at the bar, and of course, he wasn't smoking. "Why aren't you outside?"
"Matty, I finally did it. I quit smoking?"
"Congratulations, man. How did you do it?"
"I've tried everything: cold Turkey, the Patch, everything. Nothing worked until a friend recommended a psychologist. She got me to quit in just two months. She was amazing. Here, I have her card in my wallet.
June Haberman Psychologist, RN, PhD.
Her address, phone number, e-mail and web address were also listed. "She specializes in Depression, addiction, sexual and marital problems. She's a saint."
I put the card in my pocket, and thought nothing of it. Dave, and I were big hockey fans, and our Chicago Blackhawks were in the play-offs, and favored to win the Stanley Cup. We watched the game. Numerous times I told Dave how proud I was of him for stopping smoking.
Two days later I was putting some laundry together and while emptying pockets found the card. I was going to throw it away, but for whatever reason left it on my dresser. I didn't have any of the problems she dealt with. I'll have a couple of beers with you, but I rarely if ever got drunk. I wasn't married, and my sex life was fine. I didn't have a girlfriend, but once or twice a month I'd end up in bed with an attractive young woman. The sex was okay, maybe less than okay.
Over the next week I looked at that card numerous times. Each time, I had to admit I did have a problem, and I did need someone to talk to, but I wasn't ready. That changed two weeks later when I ended up in bed with Carrie. No one was a more enthusiastic lover. Great tits, great, and I do mean great cocksucker, and a pussy that wore my cock out. And I was just not into it. My mind was faraway into one of my two recurring fantasies.
Carrie left Sunday morning, and Monday as soon as I got to the office, I gave June Haberman, Psychologist, a call. She had an opening later that week.
For a woman in her late 50's, perhaps early 60's, she appeared to keep herself in great shape. She was tall, and professionally dressed, with heels, a skirt that hung below her knees, loose blouse. Her blonde hair, clearly colored, was tied in a bun atop her head. As soon as I sat down, I started to tell her about my fantasies. She interrupted me, "You're getting too far ahead of yourself. Tell me about your parents."
"What's that got to do with anything?"
"Matt, just bear with me. We'll get to those fantasies in due time."
I told her about my parents, my brother and sister, and my relationships with them. "Do you have any health problems?"
"Nope."
"Do you take any medications?"
"No."
"How about Viagra?"
"No!!!!!"
"Are you a virgin?"
"No!!!!"
"Tell me about your sex life. Steady girlfriend?"
"Nothing steady, but I have a date 2-3 weekends a month."
"Do you sleep with these women?"
"Most of the time."
"Is the sex satisfactory?"
"It's okay."
"That sounds like a negative to me."
"I'm not sure what you want me to say."
"Have you ever had a satisfactory sexual experience?"
"They've all been okay."
"Tell me more about some of these experiences?"
I told Dr. June about some of the women I slept with. Some whose names I remembered and others that I just remembered the encounter.
"Matt, each woman you've mentioned, you've said the sex was fine or okay. You've never said it was great. Let's go in a different direction: How about homosexual experiences?"
"No!!!"
"Do you look at pornography?"
"Sure."
"And do you masturbate while you're watching pornography?"
"Of course."
How often do you watch pornography?"
"Almost every day."
"And you masturbate every time?"
"At least once. Sometimes two or three times."
"What do you like to look at?"
"Now, we're getting somewhere. These fantasies revolve around the porn I watch."
"Tell me more."
"When I started watching porn, I enjoyed it, but it was nothing special. Then I came across interracial video. Oh, my God. It was amazing."
"You're interested in having sex with a black woman?"
"No, I was so jealous?"
"Matt, for years anthropologists have studied penis size. The differences between black men and white men are minimal."
"I think you misunderstand me. I'm not jealous of those men, I'm jealous of the women who get to suck those big, beautiful black cocks."
"Oh. You did say you've never had a gay experience, didn't you?"
"I haven't, and I've never ever thought of sex with a man."
"Have you ever checked out other men in a locker room?"
"No."
"So, this is all new to you?"
"Yes, and that's why I came to see you."
"Matt, there's a school of Psychology that believes you should confront your fears, address your fantasies. Go for it!"
"You're kidding?"
"No kidding. What's the worst that could happen?"
"Well, I could find out I'm gay."
"Matt, you're not gay. You're just curious. Besides, if you find out you're gay, that's not a bad thing. There's another school of Psychology that theorizes that sexuality is directly related to your parents. We'll explore that as we move along."
"There's one more thing. In my fantasy I'm always dressed up."
"Dressed up? What do you mean?"
"Ya' know. Skirt, blouse, fake boobs, heels, wig, make-up."
"Like I said, you should go for it. Think about it. Our time is up for this week. Let's plan for next week, same time."
CHAPTER
Throughout the week, I was still obsessed with both my fantasies. They disrupted my work, making it hard to concentrate. I had all these questions in my head when I arrived for my appointment with Dr. June.
"Have you given more thought about what I suggested last week?"
"That's all I thought about all week."
"And?"
"I have so many questions. I don't even know where to start."
"Let's start at the beginning, and as we work our way though this, we'll try to answer them. Tell me more about your mother?"
"What's she got to do with it?"
"Many men have issues with their mothers. By the way, just the way you said that, sounds like you're angry."
"Not angry. She was a mean, nasty woman, who embarrassed me every chance she got."
"So you are angry. Give me an example of how she embarrassed you?"
"She was very domineering. After college she insisted I live at home. She helped me get a job, made my meals, and did my laundry. Everything. There wasn't one woman I dated that she liked. Rarely did I go out with a woman more than once. My mother made sure of that."
"It must have been very frustrating."
"It was."
"Is that why you masturbate so much?"
"I don't know, maybe. I know it bothered me a lot."
"I'm not sure I follow."
"Well, one time she caught me. She yelled at me, ‘You're pathetic. Imagine a grown man having to resort to that.'
"Oh, how cruel."
"That's not the end. A few days later she had some of her girlfriends, all retired, some widowed, over to our house to play cards, and as I came downstairs on my way out she announced to one and all, ‘You'll never guess what I caught Matt doing the other day?'
"Matt, you know she shouldn't have embarrassed you like that."
"I know that now, but at the time I was furious."
"How did you react?"
"Like I said, I was totally embarrassed. One of the women said, ‘Matt, shame on you.' Another giggled, ‘There must be plenty of young women more than willing,' and the others joined in. Then there was our neighbor, "Matty, you can ring my doorbell anytime.' The others voiced their agreement.
"And these women were your mother's age?" I nodded. "What did you do?"
"I blushed. My mother had humiliated me in front of all these women. I ran out to my car and drove toward the bar where I was to meet some friends. I was furious, but I also noticed that I had an erection."
"So, this excited you? At the same time I can see why you were so angry at your mother. Here's a thought, didn't you tell me she was from the south?"
"Alabama."
"You're so angry at your mother that you would do anything to humiliate her, and what could be more humiliating for a woman from the south than to have a son who wants to have sex with a black person. Not just any black person, a black man."
"I guess that makes sense."
"And when you watch interracial porn, do you fantasize that those white women are your mother?"
"I never consciously thought about that, but it's possible."
Now, let's talk about your problem. You want to have sex with a black man, right?"
"I wonder how it would feel to have a black cock in my mouth."
"How about your anus?"
"No way!"
"And would you like to stick your penis in his anus?"
"No!"
"Have you ever had anal sex with a woman?"
"No. I've never had any interest in that, and none of the women I've been with have brought it up."
"Okay. So you want to put a black penis in your mouth, right? Do you want a black man to put your penis in his mouth?"
"I'm not interested in that, either."
"Here's what I think. In addition to wanting to humiliate your mother, and she has a lot to do with your unsatisfactory sex life, you're searching for something to make it better. Your fantasies are part of that search, and you've started at one end of the spectrum in your search. Does that sound plausible?"
"It makes sense."
"And that's why you should give this a try. Okay, our time's up for this week. Why don't we make an appointment for next week? That will give you time enough to think about what I suggested."
TO BE CONTINUED
Note from the webmaster: authors always appreciate feedback about their stories, so by all means write the author a note if you liked the story! The author of this story: Thomas B |