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Handsome arranges a double date for the girls.

Tell me about it, I mean, are you straight? Married? Married with kids?--"

"Oh, all of that, well, yeah. I have one kid. His name is Marcus and he's entering that snobby stage. My wife, Ellie, is wonderful, but sometimes she forgets that I am a man with needs, you know? Well, I shouldn't ask you that. We've been married for three years and even though we had intercourse last night, it's rare when she's in the mood for it. I'm a guy... I am often in that mood."

"Are you now? I mean, are you in that mood every day? Every-other hour? Is it too often, you think?" He asks and I cannot help but stare into his dark brown eyes. A minute has passed and I haven't said a thing.

"Yeah, I kind of am in that mood, but it's nothing that can't be ignored."

"What's running through your head?"

"So now you're a sex addict doctor?" I retort.

He laughs. "No, no. You're a sex- addict?" He actually sounded interested and oddly aroused by that. I wondered if he found me attractive. He's probably straight though. What am I thinking?

"How can I be a sex-addict if there's not enough sex involved?" I ask.

"It's me who asks the questions Dave. But, you're right. Since you aren't involved on a regular basis, it seems likely that you would become an addict."

"Uhh... is that a bad thing? I know there are institutions for those kind, but I mean, I'd rather be less involved than in one of those!"

I watch him smile at me as if he finds me the most comedic person alive. I happen to enjoy seeing him smile. I don't know why but he gives me this funny tingle inside the core of my body. It feels quite odd. I look at a picture on the wall real quick and glance back over at him. I swore I thought I saw him looking lower than my face! I blushed madly.

"Why are you blushing so badly?" He asks knowing he's stepping over the border-line.

"I just blush easily. I had a thought. I don't want to talk about it."

We talk some more about sex, then back to my personal problems. He let's me know that time is up and if he could see me again Friday. I agree and he puts his hand on my back and guides me out the door. The closeness bothers me. I walk away without looking back.


"Marcus! Are you ready to go to the beach?!" I yell. I toss a towel over my shoulder and yell at Marcus that I'll be outside. I wave at the neighbor across the street mowing the lawn. Closing my eyes, I smell the fresh grass, and realize that it's a bright, beautiful Saturday morning where the birds chirp the morning song softly in their nests high up in the trees. Marcus tugs on my arm and runs for the passenger door of my Infiniti.

"Let's go, dad!" I smile at him and hop into the car. We talk briefly and he continues to look out the window while I replay yesterday's session with Dr. Graham in my head. Before I realize it, I'm at the beach. Marcus hops out, grabs his flip-flops, slips them on, and runs towards the pier. He's always loved that the most for some reason, I think to myself. I chase after him, pretending I'm some bad guy that's going to take him away. He laughs and once we reach the end of the pier, we both stop and gaze at the amazing view of the ocean. The smell of fish and the salty water flares through my nostrils and I begin to relax.

"Dad, let's play tag! You're it, I'm not!" He starts running at extreme speed and it makes me wonder if I could actually catch him. I run after him, catch him, let him catch me, and again and again. I make a sharp turn and smack right into someone. I fall down on top of a person.

"Man, I am so sorry." I brush off the sand and quickly spot Marcus to make sure he hasn't kept on running.

"Dude, it's okay. You sure have a way of knocking a man off his feet." He laughed. That's when it hit me. I mean, really hit me.


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