What would'a happened had I become a shrink?

Today I spent several hours hanging out in a shrink's office -- long story, but it didn't involve me or anyone close to me seeing the head shrinker -- and during the visit, I had a revelation...

A while back I thought I wanted to be a psychologist or a counselor or a shrink. Good thing I didn't. I wouldn't have been able to control my urges... attractive, troubled women parading through the office... I'd want to jump their bones, ethics & conscience be damned.

I was working in the back today and came out through the waiting room, and there was a woman at the counter signing in or signing out or paying a bill or something. Worn, flared jeans; her ass shapely, the fabric stretched across like a welcoming beacon: Touch me here! Feel the smooth cotton! Slap my ass, right here! Pinch; nibble; drool!

I'd want what I couldn't have.

She'd walk into my office, and I'd get her to open up, psychologically. I'd peer inside. Perhaps she'd cry, and I'd slide over to hold her shuddering shoulders, and my hand would slide down and caress her thigh, tracing the seam with my index finger, her face buried in the folds of my dress shirt, her warm breath catching me unawares. Soon, we'd be kissing, her pink lips parted, our tongues intertwined, the taste of her sweet saliva driving me mindless, one hand holding her head close to mine, the other rubbing her crotch, the wetness growing. Soon her pants would be down around her ankles, and my fingers would be insider her, slipping in wetness. Then, I'd be on my knees between her legs, spread wide, jeans now fully discarded and panties akimbo, my tongue lapping at her, my hands gripping her fair ass, pulling her toward me, moistness and muskiness enveloping me & becoming my all as my tongue lapping and teasing, eyes closed... I become one with her shuddering, her head thrown back, blonde hair damp with perspiration, a guttural sound escaping her mouth, the heavy office door keeping all secrets.

Yeh, I don't think it would work out for me.