I'd like to thank Kenjisato again for editing and my friend Anaya for input. Sexual activity only involves characters over the age of 18. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Random names have been used to protect the innocent and my bank account.
The Doctor
'
s Permanent Treatment Part 1
—When long held feelings finally come to the surface.
My wife, Diane, and I had been married for about seven years; we had one son and two of the sweetest girls from her first marriage, Rebecca and Holly. She was also six years younger than me.
I am a teacher. I was also coaching sports at the school I was teaching at, and I was active in the teachers union. My name is Don Paterson.
The end of my marriage.
Well, the marriage kind of went south. Diane left me for an, divorced neighbor with two girls. They had met through the neighborhood Girl Scouts troop, where Diane was the leader. Diane and I had our problems, but I still think to this day, counseling would have helped us. But there wasn't any. He, somehow, convinced her to divorce me and marry him. Diane's head was turned by an man with 'some' money, who was interested in her— that was the bottom line.
Going to Dr. Cynthia Brown.
I had been going to a chiropractor, Dr. Cynthia Brown, for a few years since hurting my back while working construction during the summer; Diane went to her, also. Dr. Cynthia shared a practice with her chiropractor husband; they were both a year younger than I was.
During the divorce, I was stressed out and was seeing Dr. Cynthia almost two times a week for neck adjustments, and maybe a third time for physical therapy. The stress of the divorce and child custody hearings took a toll on me.
The end of Dr Cynthia
'
s marriage.
Little did I know that just before my divorce, Dr. Cynthia's husband cheated on her and got the neighbor lady pregnant.
They tried to keep the practice together after their divorce. But the partnership did fold, eventually. It was funny. Dr. Cynthia got the equipment— the x-ray machine, the hospital beds for therapy, the better of the two chiropractic drop tables, etc. the expensive things; her ex got the office and waiting room furniture. Ah, karma.
Life goes on.
It just so happened that with my schedule— coaching and some moonlighting jobs— I would end up being her last patient many days, at six in the evening, or later.
After my divorce, my ex still went to see her for treatment, which lasted until she had a late appointment just before mine. The predator, asshole, and whatever other name I could use, Paul, was with her and so was my son. I walked in and just looked at him and smirked, with an evil eye thrown in.
Paul had the audacity to ask me, "What the hell are you doing here?"
So, I answered, "What the hell are you doing here?"
Just then, unseen by us, Dr. Cynthia and my ex began walking down the hall, leading to the waiting room.
I thought he was going to stand up and start a fight.
My Jeff was with them; he ran over to me just about shouting, "Daddy, Daddy, I miss you!" and he hugged the stuffing out of me. Because of some bullshit that Paul had dreamed up, claiming I abused my son, I had been forced to miss several visitations.
I hugged him back and told him, "I love you so much, Jeffie."
It was a good thing Paul did not try to fight me, as I had enough adrenaline pumping that I could have lifted a locomotive over his fucking head and smash him with it.
My son, Jeff, then said some magic words, "Paul said you didn't love me anymore."
Dr. Cynthia had heard everything.
"Listen, Paul, you son of a..."
Dr. Cynthia and Diane entered the waiting room from the hallway. Dr. Cynthia gave both Diane and Paul an angry look. This would come up later at Diane's divorce from Paul, and in the paperwork I threatened to use to get custody. Karma again!
Dr. Cynthia, Cindy.
I must describe Dr. Cynthia, Cindy; to the public, she's a very sophisticated woman, dressed impeccably, professional all the time. Her hair was always up in a very nice bun, she wore nice-looking glasses, and her chiropractic adjustments were always professionally done. You could tell she had a nice figure, even in her professional attire of blouse and skirt; she looked elegant-sexy with class.
Because of my sports schedule, I was always the last patient of the day. Before the partnership folded, her now ex-husband would rush out before she was finished with me. We ended up alone together many an evening around seven with nowhere to be. We began to have wonderful talks and developed a 'friendship'. We would lament to each other over what our exes had done to us.
I began to look forward to my appointments. I really needed adjustments, but my appointments were getting longer and longer; a few times, Dr. Cindy would give me a massage to help the adjustment. Afterward, I would have to lie on the bench while my erection would subside.
Dr. Cindy would say, "Lie still let the muscle relax— I mean, muscles relax."
I was not sure if the Freudian slip was on purpose or not. I just did not want to embarrass myself or my beautiful doctor, so I would lie still. We would sometimes not leave her office until eight o'clock or so. There was many a night, Cindy was the star of my dreams. During office visits, I never came on to her, other than getting an erection which I hid very well, at least, I thought I did. (Honest, Mom, I tried.)
One Friday evening, she said, "Okay, 'coach' Don, I am hungry. Want to get something to eat?" It was a quarter after seven.
A date, or more than a date?
"Sure." I had not once thought of any kind of romance with Cindy, well none that I would act on, on my own; I am a man, after all, and a gentleman thanks to mom!
She said, "Better yet, I have some nice steaks and potatoes and some lettuce for a salad at home. I know my home is on the way to your apartment. So, let's eat out by my pool. Do you grill?"
"
Do I grill
? You have not lived until you have tasted my world famous 'kitchen sink' marinated steaks," I bragged.
I only say this because of the compliments I had received for years. Basically, I'd hear of some secret ingredient that somebody put in their marinade, and I would put that in mine, too, and when you looked at what and how I made the marinade, it would look like I used everything in the kitchen (spices, condiments, stuff I could put in a blender), including the kitchen sink, so that's how it got to be called "Don's World-Famous Kitchen Sink Marinate." By the way, my best secret ingredient is cinnamon.
"I can stop by the grocery store and grab what I need."
"Well,
we
can shop together since I need a few things for the salad from the grocery store, also."
The neighborhood Cindy lived in was full of big houses. Did I mention that Cindy got the house?
Her ex got married to his baby's momma, but they did not get that house either, the neighbor's husband got the house, and custody of their two kids. Karma again.
