The Couch - Part Two
The Hasslett Sessions

By Dirk Vincento
dirkvincento @ hotmail . com
Copyright 2011 by Dirk Vincento, all rights reserved.

4

            After a few weeks of dating, they officially became a serious item and by the time they had been seeing each other for three months, Gretchen was already talking about moving in together, dropping subtle hints at first and then gradually applying more and more direct pressure.  As she turned up the heat, a little voice in the back of Brian’s head was trying to tell him that moving in with Gretchen would be a big mistake.  But the voice emanating from his loins was much louder.  The chance to go to bed each night and wake up every morning with those irresistible breasts was more than he could possibly resist.  The warm, tingling feeling that the sight of her bosom sent coursing through his body blinded him to the controlling, manipulative situation he was getting himself into.  And so, four months to the day from the night of their first date, Brian and Gretchen moved into a comfortable main floor apartment in a house located in a quiet residential district on the outskirts of town.  (The fact that they were now living a short ten minute drive from Gretchen’s work, while Brian faced an hour and a half hour drive to his office each morning, was something Gretchen was quick to cast off as sheer coincidence.)

            From the beginning, their sex life could hardly be described as prolific, but Gretchen had become a skilled master at knowing how to let out just enough line to keep her fish on the hook.  There were many nights that she was too tired, or had a headache, or her back was sore, (she always felt comfortable falling back on that excuse, for obvious reasons.) or she simply wasn’t in the mood.  But whenever she sensed that Brian was beginning to suspect that behind these excuses was a much deeper, more serious problem, she would suddenly become a voracious sex-kitten, bathing him in an erotic experience that would ease his fears and pacify him for a while.  Dressed in sensuous lingerie, she would attack him on the couch, rubbing her body against his groin and pressing her breasts into his face, burying him deep in her devouring cleavage.  With long, deep kisses, she would drive out any thoughts he had that problems existed, her probing tongue convincing him beyond a shadow of a doubt that all was well between them.  On most occasions she could make him come helplessly in his pants, saving her the trouble of actually having to fuck him.  She knew it was manipulative and cold, but what the hell?  It worked.

            Gretchen even increased the frequency of these erotic encounters for the two or three weeks before they moved in together and kept up the pace for a couple of weeks after, just for good measure.  But once they were settled in and she felt comfortable with their new living arrangements, the headaches, backaches and fatigue began to return.  At first Brian tried to convince himself that this was just a passing phase, but by the time their sexual encounters had slowed to a dead crawl, often separated by as much as two or three months, he knew that he had been duped.

            As if it wasn’t bad enough that their sexual relationship had become a barren wasteland, as time went on, Gretchen gradually let her true personality come through as well.  As sweet as cotton candy one moment, she could sting like a scorpion the next.  Her attacks were ruthless and merciless, but always ended before pushing Brian far enough to walk out the door.  And he would have left many times if not for the ever-present specter of Gretchen’s breasts.  The power of their attraction was mind-numbing and the hold they had over Brian was frighteningly complete.  It was a fetish so strong that if he’d had the same level of addiction to gambling or alcohol or any other vice more dangerous to his health and/or wallet, he would have had to seek help.  Whenever Gretchen’s verbal assaults started to become unbearable, Brian would soothe his wounds with endless rationalizations, convincing himself that her tits made it all worthwhile.  He even used her breasts to rationalize their beleaguered sex life, telling himself over and over that just being able to look at Gretchen’s incredible mammaries every day and get into bed with them every night was better than having a prolific sex life with someone else.

            By the time Brian and Gretchen had been living together for six months, their lives had slipped into a predictable routine, one which seemed to satisfy all of Gretchen’s needs but none of Brian’s.  He was getting just enough love, affection and sexual attention to keep alive his hopes that things would eventually get better.  But he wasn’t happy.  As the days, weeks and months passed by, he gradually slipped into a deep depression, which in turn made him that much more incapable of doing anything about his situation.  He lost his enthusiasm for his job and most of the things in his life that used to give him joy.  And as a last act of plundery, it robbed him of his sleep, leaving him lying in bed staring at the ceiling, staying as still as possible to avoid disturbing Gretchen . . . and waiting for something to change.

5

            “How have you been sleeping?”

            Brian hesitated before answering, feeling that somehow, through his own failure, he had let Dr. Hasslett down.  He looked at the window and noticed how the colored window hangers caught the sunlight, before turning back to Dr. Hasslett and meeting his gaze.

            “Well, to be honest, things haven’t really improved much at all,” he said sheepishly.  “I tried most of your suggestions, but nothing seemed to work”

            Thoughtful creases appeared on Dr. Hasslett’s forehead as he carefully contemplated the problem.  The depth of his puzzlement gave Brian the distinct feeling that he really cared about his situation, making him fight back the urge to break into a broad smile that he didn’t want to have to explain.

            “That’s unusual,” Dr. Hasslett said finally.  “You didn’t notice any improvement at all?”

            “Not really, no,” Brian answered.

            “You said you tried most of the things I suggested.  Could you describe in a little more detail exactly what you did?”

            “Let me think,” Brian said, trying to collect his thoughts.  “There were quite a few things and . . . ”

            “Maybe it would be quicker if you told me the things that you didn’t do,” Dr. Hasslett interjected.

            “Well, I probably didn’t get as much exercise as you would have liked . . . ”

            “Alright.  What else?”

            “ . . . and I didn’t actually try the getting up out of bed if I still hadn’t fallen asleep after half an hour.”

            “Really?  And why is that?”

            “Well, like I told you last week, my girlfriend, Gretchen, is a very light sleeper and she doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

            “So even though you couldn’t sleep, you never got out of bed once?” Dr. Hasslett asked somewhat incredulously.

            “No, I . . . umm . . . I didn’t.”

            Dr. Hasslett sat back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest in what was already becoming a familiar position.  He stared off into space for quite some time, no longer looking puzzled, but instead giving the impression that he was simply trying to decide exactly how to proceed.

            “How would you describe your relationship with Gretchen?” Dr. Hasslett inquired, as he returned his attention to Brian.

            “I beg your pardon?” Brian asked, somewhat taken aback by the abruptness of the question.

            “Your relationship with Gretchen,” Dr. Hasslett repeated.  “Would you describe it as good?  I mean in the sense of being emotionally fulfilling.”

            “Gee, I don’t know.  I’ve never really thought about it in those terms,” Brian said, while another voice inside him screamed out that it knew the answer all too well.

            “Are you happy?” Dr. Hasslett asked.

            Brian suddenly felt his eyes begin to well up with tears.  He started to answer Dr. Hasslett’s question but stopped, afraid that if he tried to speak he might actually begin to cry.

            “What are you feeling now?”  Dr. Hasslett’s voice remained very even and calm.

            “I’m not sure,” Brian said, his voice quivering as a single tear ran down his cheek.  “This kind of took me by surprise.”

            “Maybe we should talk a little bit about your relationship,” Dr. Hasslett suggested.  “Would that be alright?”

            “Sure,” Brian said, with less than total conviction.  “I guess so.”  He glanced up at the window hangers again and then looked over at the colored blotches they were projecting on the wall.

            “I believe you said last week that you and your girlfriend lived together.  Is that right?”

            “Yes, we do.”

            “How long has it been?”

            “About two and a half years.”

            Brian was answering Dr. Hasslett’s questions carefully, still uncertain of where all this was going.

            “And how long ago did you meet?”

            “I’d say about three years ago.”

            “So you really hadn’t known each other very long when you moved in together.”

            “No we hadn’t,” Brian said, sitting back in his seat and touching his fingers to his chin.  “Now that I think about it, we’d probably only known each other three or four months.”

            “That’s really not very long, is it?” Dr. Hasslett said, making a point more than asking a question.

            Brian had been staring down at his knees, but now he looked up at Dr. Hasslett without saying anything.  He could feel the doctor’s eyes peering into him, probing inside him and shining a light into dark corners that he hadn’t even known existed.  Two or three months.  It did seem quick.  He tried to remember if it had seemed that fast at the time.  His memories of that period were very hazy, as if seen through a fog that left them barely visible and somewhat indistinct.

            “Do you remember whose idea it was to move in together?” Dr. Hasslett asked, his voice now sounding far away as Brian’s mind drifted through his thoughts.  The question seemed to make the fog thin out a little and suddenly he could see something clearly.

            “It was Gretchen’s idea,” he said with certainty, feeling a wave of comfort at having been able to grasp onto something he knew for sure.

            “What do you remember about that time?” Dr. Hasslett continued probing.

            Brian sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees.  He looked down at the floor as he spoke, as if his past were unfolding before him there.  “I didn’t really want to move in,” he said, his voice taking on a slightly detached tone like he was in some kind of a trance.  “At least not yet, anyway.  I was happy with the way things were.  I thought we should get to know each other better, or maybe I already knew . . . ”  Brian tried to look inside himself but whatever it was that he might have known was still hidden behind the fog.  “But Gretchen wasn’t happy.  She said she didn’t want to go on living apart . . . that she wanted to be together.  And I remember her saying that it didn’t make sense for both of us to be paying rent for two apartments when we could be splitting the cost on one.”  Brian paused, as if waiting for the next bit to come, like a sneeze that wasn’t quite ready to explode yet.  “She never actually came right out and said that she’d stop seeing me if we didn’t move in together.  It was never an ultimatum . . . but it felt like one.”  Brian suddenly looked up at Dr. Hasslett and stared straight into his eyes.   “Does that make sense?” he asked.

            “Oh yes, that makes a lot of sense,” Dr. Hasslett answered, his tone kind and reassuring.  “Many of the messages we receive from the people around us are hidden between the lines, so to speak.  And that’s especially true in intimate relationships where the emotions you’re dealing with are much more layered and complex.  Don’t ever think that just because someone hasn’t stated something outright it hasn’t been said.  On the contrary, many messages that are communicated indirectly are much more powerful than those that are put into words.”  Dr. Hasslett paused, giving Brian a moment to consider what he had said, before going on.  “What other memories do you have of your relationship at that time?”

            “It was good,” Brian said, “apart from the pressure to move in together, we got along well.  We enjoyed spending time together.  There were little things, but . . . ”

            “What sort of things?” Dr. Hasslett asked.

            “Well, she has quite a temper.  It didn’t flare up quite as much in those days as it does now, but even then, she could be pretty explosive.  She has a sharp tongue and when she’s mad and she’s not afraid to use it.”

            “So you were aware of her temper even then?”

            “Oh yeah,” Brian answered, surprising himself with the quickness of his response.  “It would have been impossible not to notice it.”

            “Were you sexually active?”

            Brian felt his face flush as he remembered that he had come here to talk about his insomnia, not his sex life.  This was not a moment he had expected to arrive at and he probably never would have come in the first place if he had known that things were going to get this personal.  But, at the same time, there was something about Dr. Hasslett’s demeanor that made him feel comfortable and safe.  And even more than that, he found himself wanting to talk about Gretchen and sex.

            “Yes, we were,” he said, feeling his cheeks blush and hating himself for it.

            “Was that part of your relationship fulfilling?”

            “Very much so,” Brian said, a light tingling dancing across his skin as he caught a whiff of the scent of his attraction to Gretchen.

            “So you were reasonably happy with your relationship with Gretchen at that point in time,” Dr. Hasslett summarized.  “If there were problems, they weren’t big enough to make you feel like you wanted to end the relationship.”

            “That sounds about right,” Brian agreed.

            Dr. Hasslett shifted in his seat.  “Let’s move on to the period of time after you moved in together.  Would you say that things changed significantly after you started living together?”

            Brian was amazed to find that he knew the answers to these questions, that he had always known the answers to these questions.  He had simply chosen not to ask them to himself.

            “Yes, they did,” he said.  He was staring at the floor again and his voice had once more taken on a trance-like quality.  “They changed quite a bit.  It was good at first but then her temper . . .  She started lashing out more frequently and her attacks were much more vicious.  Sometimes she could be hateful.  And she became very controlling.  When I think back, I guess she always had been, right from the start.  But after we moved in together, it got much worse.  She had to have her way or else she would be miserable.  And when Gretchen is miserable, everyone is miserable!”

            “Were there changes in your sex life?”

            Brian let out a deep long sigh.  “It just stopped,” he said, his voice sounding quiet and distant.  “I mean, things were alright at first, but it didn’t take very long before there was always one excuse or another.  I tried to take each situation at face value but after a while, no matter how hard you try, you can’t help but see the pattern that’s forming.  Part of me knew that she had been having sex with me because she thought she had to, to get me to agree to move in with her.  But I kept telling myself that it wasn’t true.  I wouldn’t let myself believe that she could be that ruthless.”

            “It doesn’t sound like you were very happy with things at that point.”

            “I was miserable,” Brian blurted out, suddenly feeling like he could easily be on the verge of tears any moment now.  “I kept asking myself how I ever got myself into this situation, how I could have been so wrong.  I felt like I’d made a terrible mistake again    . . . and I didn’t know what to do.”

            “What do you mean by, ‘again’?” Dr. Hasslett asked, homing in on the word like a beacon.

            Brian sighed.  It was a weary sound, filled with resignation and defeat.

            “This isn’t the first time I’ve been in a bad relationship.”  As the words slipped out of his mouth, Brian realized that this was the first time he had admitted the truth about his relationship with Gretchen to himself.

            Dr. Hasslett considered pursuing this new line of thought, but then changed his mind and decided it was more important to continue on the course he had already started.     “We’ll come back to that in a minute,” he said, letting the calm of his voice be a constant against which Brian could gauge his emotional state.  “First, let’s finish talking about your relationship with Gretchen.  You’ve said that you became very unhappy a short time after you moved in together.  How has it been since then?”

            Brian was obviously feeling very emotional, but he managed to keep his composure as he continued.  “If anything, it just got progressively worse,” he said.  “Her temperament became even more volatile and her outbursts got more frequent and more vicious.  Her need to be in control of everything seemed to grow stronger, until I ended up feeling like I was spending all my time trying to keep her happy.”   Brian paused and looked at Dr. Hasslett, his eyes filled with nervous apprehension.  “Our sex life slowed down to where we’d go for months with nothing at all.  And then, all of a sudden she’d get horny and we’d do it a couple of times.  It’s funny, it would always be twice, two days in a row . . . and then nothing again.  Every time she got in the mood, I’d try to convince myself that things were finally turning around, but then it would stop and the whole cycle would start over again.  That’s pretty much how things have been right up to the present.  I mean, that’s how they are now.”

            Dr. Hasslett took a long, thoughtful pause, giving himself a chance to organize his thought before speaking.  When he began, his voice was low and deep and filled with compassion.

            “From what you’ve told me, I think it would be fair to say that you’re suffering from depression.  How severe, it would be hard to say at this point.  But considering the nature of the relationship you’ve described and the length of time that it’s gone on, I would have to think that we’re dealing with something more serious than a mild case of depression.  Furthermore, I think the trouble you’ve been having sleeping is a symptom of your depression and probably won’t improve until the cause of the depression has been dealt with more directly.”

            “I didn’t even know I was depressed,” Brian said.  “I just thought I was having a little trouble sleeping.”

            “That’s one of the most insidious things about depression,” Dr. Hasslett said.  “The depression acts like blinders that can keep you from getting in touch with your true emotional state.  Most people who are depressed don’t know it.  And ironically, the more depressed you are, the less likely you are to be aware of it.”

            Dr. Hasslett paused again, giving Brian a chance to absorb what he had said.

            “Now, I can prescribe medication that we can use to help regulate your sleep patterns,” Dr. Hasslett continued, “but I really feel that it would be a waste of time without also dealing with your underlying emotional state.  If that’s a process you’d like to work on together, we can do that.  But it’s a decision you’ll have to make.”

            “What would it involve?” Brian asked.

            “Well, through discussion, we would have to ascertain what things in your life have brought about your depression, and then look deeper and try to understand what psychological habits have caused you to create these patterns in your life.  It would undoubtedly involve discussing some very personal issues, your present and past relationships, your relationship with members of your family.  We may need to discuss sex and the role it has played in influencing the choice of your current partner and the partners you’ve had in the past, as well as its overall effect on your life .  We’ll have to deal with some very intimate topics, so it’s important that you give it some thought and decide whether or not you think you’ll be comfortable with it.”

            “Alright,” Brian said, feeling a little overwhelmed.  This situation had suddenly seemed to get a lot bigger and a lot more serious.

            Dr. Hasslett glanced at his watch.  “It looks like we’re out of time for today,” he said, with an impeccable chair-side manner.  “So why don’t you go home and think about it?  And if you decide that you’d like to pursue what we’ve talked about, give Susan a call and she’ll set up an appointment for you.  In the meantime, I’d recommend trying to implement as many of the sleeping aids that we discussed last week as possible.  Considering what we’ve uncovered today, I don’t think they’ll solve your problem but they can only help.”

            “I’ll do what I can,” Brian said, getting up from his chair and shaking Dr. Hasslett’s hand.  “Thank you very much.  I’ll think about what you’ve said and get back to you.”

            “Very good,” Dr. Hasslett said, giving Brian’s hand a firm squeeze.  “Take care.”

            Brian left Dr. Hasslett’s office, his mind floating and his body weak and limp as if he had been soaking for a long time in a hot tub.  As he went down in the elevator, he was aware that he had a lot to think about.  As he walked through the lobby, he also felt very hopeful.  But by the time he was out in the street, he was wondering what he would tell Gretchen about his visit with Dr. Hasslett, when he got home.

6

            Brian lay in bed waiting, just as he lay in bed waiting every night.  Waiting and hoping.  He could hear Gretchen in the bathroom, first washing her face and then brushing her teeth.  Any moment, the sound of the water running into the basin would stop, followed by her footsteps in the hall, and then she would appear in the doorway with her housecoat wrapped around her.  The way it stretched out over her chest would emphasize the size of her bust more than conceal it.  She would pause while Brian gazed at her bosom admiringly.  He always wondered if she stood there each night on purpose and if she gave him these few moments to look and enjoy what he saw because she wanted to please him or because she knew it would pacify him.  In the end, whether it was to make him happy or to keep him under her thumb really didn’t matter because either way, Brian was equally incapable of looking away.  The pleasure he felt while gazing at the two large mounds that rose up from beneath Gretchen’s housecoat was much too powerful to resist.

            Then she would stand beside the bed and take off her housecoat, and Brian would watch her, his eyes wide and his heart pounding.  That would be the moment he had been waiting for - one of the moments that made all the hurt, frustration and rejection that living with Gretchen entailed seem worthwhile.  He would slowly scan her body, eventually focusing on her bosom.  His skin would begin to tingle at the sight of her massive breasts and the outline of her nipples, barely visible through the slightly transparent material of her nightgown.  He would savor the contour of their profile as they stood out from her body, ravenously consuming the space in front of her with their considerable mass.  He would feel his erection harden and grow as the vision before him reached deep into his psyche and touched some part of him that he had no control over - a part of him that, in fact, had total and complete control over him.

            And then Gretchen would lift up the covers and slide into bed beside Brian . . . and he would hope.  Hope that tonight would be one of the nights that she would feel like making love.  Hope that tonight would be one of the nights that she would allow him to touch her, to feel her breasts, to experience their size and their soft, firmness with his hands, to hold her in his arms and feel the warmth of her bosom as it squeezed between them.  Hope that tonight would be one of the nights he would get to feel the intoxicating pleasure wash over him as he looked down at her as she lay beneath him, the peaks of her nipples daring him to hold on just a little bit longer.  Then he would feel himself slide into her, her hot, wetness taking hold of him and swallowing him whole, squeezing him tight and easily pushing him over the edge, leaving him to fall helplessly  into the bottomless chasm of an orgasm that would shake him to the very core of his being.

            The sound of the water stopped.

            Footsteps padded lightly down the hall.

            Gretchen appeared in the doorway, paused for a moment, pulled off her housecoat and then slid into bed.  She reached up and turned out the light, immersing the room in darkness.  “Goodnight dear,” she said softly, turning over a quietly going to sleep.

7

            Brian sat quietly in the waiting room.  He glanced over at Susan, the top of her head just visible through her window in the wall.  She seemed to be busy with her work and paying very little attention to him.  He remembered the first time he had come here just two weeks ago and how embarrassed he imagined he would be if he were seeing the doctor for something more serious than insomnia, something that might actually mean he was crazy.  Not necessarily padded room, straitjacket, bouncing-off-the-walls crazy, but at least a little bit crazy.  Crazy enough that he needed a psychiatrist.  He wondered if Susan knew that his condition had been upgraded from insomnia to depression.  (Moderate or severe had yet to be determined, but mild had definitely been ruled out.)  She worked in the office, probably handled the files and maybe even typed up Dr. Hasslett’s notes, so he had to assume that she knew about his condition.  All he could do was hope that they had enough patients crazier than him to make his depression seem tame, maybe even somewhat normal by comparison.  Embarrassed or not, Brian had decided to tough it out and try to get to the bottom of his problem.  If he was honest with himself, he had to admit that talking to Dr. Hasslett hadn’t been nearly as frightening as he had expected it to be.  In fact, it had actually made him feel quite good.  Even talking about his pitiful sex life with Gretchen, which he had thought would be a humiliating experience, hadn’t really been too embarrassing at all.  On the contrary, it made him feel as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

            Of course, he hadn’t told Gretchen about what had gone on during his last session with Dr. Hasslett.  There was no way he could explain to her that his insomnia was a result of the depression that their relationship had dragged him into.  Instead, he had simply lied.  He told Gretchen that Dr. Hasslett had been quite pleased with his progress and thought that after a few more sessions he would have his insomnia under control.  Gretchen had doused him with I told you so’s, going to great lengths to make the point that it had been her idea to go to the clinic in the first place and that she had been right about Dr. Hasslett being able to help him.

            As Brian sat waiting, he realized that always having to be right was one of Gretchen’s annoying traits that he had forgotten to mention to Dr. Hasslett.  It wasn’t just that Gretchen had to be right, she had to let you know that she was right.  And of course, that you were equally wrong.  Brian imagined that it might not sound like such a big deal if he were telling someone about it, but just try to live with it for a while.  When someone has to always be right all of the time, it can really wear you down after a while.

            Good old Gretchen, Brian thought to himself, can’t live with her, can’t live without . . .

            “Mr. Peterson,” Susan called out through her window in the wall, “the doctor’s ready.  You can go in now.”

            “Thanks,” Brian called back, getting up from his seat.  He took a deep breath as he headed toward the door, bracing himself to face the unknown.

To Be Continued