02-11-2016, 08:03 PM
This is a unique scenario that I haven't encountered, but one I've always entertained in my mind: erotic transference.
There's something very exciting and high-tension, and a bit twisted, about flirting with disaster. If I ever "play therapist" with someone, I can only imagine counting how many times I tug on the hem of my skirt, or cross and uncross my legs in front of my client. And, oh look, there's a couch right there...
There's something very exciting and high-tension, and a bit twisted, about flirting with disaster. If I ever "play therapist" with someone, I can only imagine counting how many times I tug on the hem of my skirt, or cross and uncross my legs in front of my client. And, oh look, there's a couch right there...
"Each night has one sound I know: the moon against the water like your cheek across mine in another life." – Sara Eliza Johnson