Turning up the heat

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He dressed carefully for the office. His shirt was crisp and lightly starched; his tie had personality but wasn’t loud. He slipped on his pants, enjoying the cool touch of linen along his legs, over his ass and finally closing over his dick, still faintly swollen from his morning erection. He wore no underwear. He tucked his penis neatly to the left and slipped on his loafers. Ready, he locked his front door and headed for work.

At the office, he wryly labeled his first three patients “normally crazy,” feeling slightly reproachful for mocking his patients. All the same, he listened with scant attention and wrote refills for them without much comment. A new patient came in at ten and he looked up as she came through the door.

She was at first glance a typical suburban wife and mother. He noticed her figure was trim but not exceptional; she wore jeans and a shirt that showed just a hint of cleavage. She sat on the edge of the upholstered chair by the window and spoke. Like so many people, she had problems with depression, a little anxiety, nothing hard to diagnose or really even very memorable. She twisted her wedding ring as she spoke.

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