Part 2 of My Confession to My Therapist, Dave picks up two weeks after I told my therapist, Dave, about what really happened over Thanksgiving in a Virginia hotel room. This chapter is about going back. Same office. Same chair. Now with everything out in the open.
I’ve been seeing Dave ...
It had been two weeks since I last spilled my guts in this room. Two weeks of pretending I didn’t replay his voice in my head while jerking off. Two weeks of lying flat on my back, eyes closed, imagining him watching me — not as a therapist, but as a man. Just one lonely bastard taking in another. ... » Read more
