Jocelyn spread her legs wide for him. Her noises echoed his own. "Don't stop. Oh, god. Oh god." The tongue-lashing spurred her desire. She writhed at the probing as her fever pitch rose. Lustily he sucked on her clitoris. "Oh. Oh!" Ed got a faceful of his wife's reaction. On impulse he pushed her buttocks apart and darted his tongue down below her perineum. Swiftly he licked the twisted skin. Jocelyn choked out a broken shriek and bucked wildly, almost throwing him off the edge of the bed.
Frantically she scrabbled at him, dragging him up beside her, demanding to be fucked. Ed lanced her gladly. She was drenched. Their eyes connected in a voltage of lust. Faster than words and more primal than thoughts, they knew one another, and their motion became as one. Again and again, Ed fathomed her depths. He dove into her sweaty saline until he groaned and filled her with his own.
They panted, whispering bits of sweet hot air to one another. "Where did that come from," she wanted to know.
"Sometimes you don't get to know."
"Yeah, but sometimes you do ... I love you, Edward Pablo Rex."
"And I love you, Jocelyn Austin Rex." They smiled at one another. Unchanging as fate, the moonlight still spilled over them both. They kissed. Their connection had given them strength, and hope for the future. Each was thinking, We will work this out.
* * *
Ed should have slept great after having sex with his wife, but he didn't. He had a bad dream.
In the dream, he was in some kind of maze. The concrete walls were half again his height. Along the base of the walls ran foul-smelling rivers. Ed hurried along, desperate to find a way out. One dead end after another presented itself to the confused and frightened mayor. Sounds of moaning filled the air -- it sounded like women in the pain of childbirth.
After many twists and turns, Ed finally saw another human. The man had his back to him and was wearing a business suit. "Hey!" Ed called. "Can you help me find a way out of here? Do you know the way out?" He put his hand on the man's shoulder.
At first the man seemed to be turning around, but his body collapsed at Ed's touch. Ed pulled his hand away from the rotting flesh. "Ugh!" The man fell onto his back. His hand dragged into one of the trenches of dirty water. With a start, Ed realized the man's face was his own.
Ed woke with a sharp gasp. Sweat beaded his nose and forehead. His heart banged as if he had run a long way. He sat up, working to control his breathing. Sitting up seemed to help bring him back to reality. "Okay, it's okay. It was just a dream."
But he still couldn't sleep. He went to his den and turned on the light. Here were many things that affirmed his identity: his books, his awards on the walls. A piece of parchment declared his political science degree from the University of Iowa. Smiling from an 8x10 was his bride, the woman he'd just made love to this night. Ed eased his frame into a heavy leather chair. He felt a little better. His office made him who he was.
* * *
Unfortunately, the investigation made little progress, while Ed's nightmare made a lot. More and more frequently he dreamed the same dream. He became irritable with his staff, snapping at them when they failed to produce results. Stillborn and deformed births were becoming increasingly common, and lately children and sewage workers had been turning up with ugly skin lesions. No one could offer an explanation.
"What the hell do I pay you people for!" he barked at a CIAO agent.
The junior officer squirmed in his chair. "Uh, actually you don't pay us, the taxpayers do."
Ed growled and half stood up from his desk, looking as if he would tear out the civil servant's throat. "Then give the good people their money's worth!" he fairly screamed.
The man from CIAO gathered up his papers and stammered something useless. He zipped from the room, leaving the mayor to his own foul temper.
Dr. Spinks gave his customary single knock and entered the room.
"Ed, if you don't see a therapist, I'm going to declare you medically unfit to hold office."
Anger flared in the mayor's eyes. The doctor did not back down.
"Okay," grumbled Ed. "Make the appointment."
* * *
"Do my eyes bother you?" asked the therapist. "If so I can wear dark glasses."
They did bother him, but Ed could not say so. He had not had any preconceptions about gender -- it didn't matter to him if he talked with a woman or a man -- but he hadn't expected a blind person. He felt uneasy, as if she could see things he could not. Then he told himself that was just ridiculous. That was superstition, an old wives' tale.
"Okay. My name is Teresa." She held out her hand and Ed shook it.
"My name is Ed."
"I'm glad we're on a first name basis, Ed. It could get awkward if we're discussing your private life while I call you 'Mayor.'" She chuckled and invited him to sit down.
Teresa's skills were impressive. She drew him out in such a way that Ed spilled his whole life story in a very short time. He talked about growing up as the son of Pablo and Muriel Rex. Pablo himself had recently retired as the governor of Michigan. Ed talked about how he had been worried that no one would take him seriously as a politician in his own right -- that people would think he had grown up as a spoiled rich kid.
"But you've proven that self-doubt to be wrong." Teresa's voice was smooth as glass. "You've proven yourself as a leader."
"Except for the current circumstances."
"What do you think of those?"
Ed found himself telling her about the dream. He talked and talked until he realized that Teresa had not prompted him for several minutes. In fact she had grown quite still.
"What's wrong?"
"I don't know if we should proceed," she answered slowly.
"What do you mean? We have to proceed. I have to get to the bottom of this. I can't function properly if I can't sleep at night and I can't sleep if this dream keeps haunting me!"
"True." The therapist chewed on her lower lip. Ed watched her think. "True," she said again.
Hesitatingly, Teresa asked Ed if he had ever considered hypnosis. No, he had not, but was willing to give it a try. As much as he had been opposed to seeing a therapist at first, the bottom line was that he wanted to be a good leader. He wanted to solve the problems that were plaguing his people and he knew that he couldn't do so unless he was mentally strong.
And so it came to pass that Ed found himself lying down with his eyes closed, accepting commands to relax, and taking to heart the belief that he would awaken when Teresa told him to. She further instructed that when he awakened, he would remember everything they talked about.
"The dream," Teresa told him. "You're in a hurry. What do you see?'
"Stone walls. They're everywhere. I can't get anywhere. I'm in a hurry."
"Tell me more about these walls. What do they look like?"
"Poured concrete, they're --" Ed sat up. A look of realization snapped across his face. "They're berms. The road is under construction. That's why I can't get anywhere. I keep making wrong turns."
"What do you do?"
"I step on the gas. I --! Goddamn it! I have the right of way! SHIT! NO!! " Ed was breathing fast. His face was red.
Send to your friend
