Therapy Session (Mac Prison)

Nine: Dream

Later that night, after dinner was finished, it was 8 o'clock. Hannah's bedtime. Trisha walked the sleepy child to her overly pink bedroom, and helped her out of her play clothes. "Do you want to wear your Cinderella jammies?" Trisha asked.

"No! Tangled!" Hannah squealed, bouncing up and down.

"Ok honey, calm down. It's bedtime." Trisha said, pulling Hannah's pajama shirt over her head. After the young girl was situated in her pajamas, she bounced into her bed and threw the covers down to her feet. Trisha smiled and walked over, pulling the covers up around her shoulder and leaning down, giving the young girl's forehead a kiss. "Goodnight, sweetheart." She murmured softly.

"Night night, Mommy." Hannah yawned, closing her eyes as Trisha straightened up. Trisha tiptoed out of Hannah's room, keeping the door crack a little bit so Hannah wouldn't get scared of the dark. Trisha then headed to the bedroom, now excited for what Michael had in store for her.

She opened her bedroom door, biting her lip, only to find that Michael was on the phone, arguing by the sound of it.

"I told you to order those yesterday!" He barked. "Now what the hell am I supposed to tell our client?"

Trisha slowly shut the door and walked over to the dresser as Michael continued arguing. She slowly got undressed, tossing the blouse to the side to reveal her lacy white bra. Then she let the skirt pool around her ankles, turning to Michael and leaning against the dresser, still wanting him to dominate her.

"Yeah, ok, well have fun explaining this to Josh!" Michael finished, slamming the "end call" button on his touch screen. Then he glanced up at Trisha, looking exhausted and stressed as hell.

"Here babe, let me help you relax." Trisha said, walking forward and gently grabbing his shoulders. She leaned up to kiss him, but he pulled away and groaned, walking over to the dresser and getting undressed. Trisha smirked and climbed onto the bed, biting her lip and laying provocatively.

Michael returned to the bed in just his boxers, crawling under the sheets and groaning as he laid down. Trisha scooted over and started twirling a finger on his chest. "Are you ok?" She asked.

"No." He muttered. "I'm just tired." Trisha sat back, disappointment evident on her face. He glanced at her and sighed. "Not tonight. Maybe next week."

Trisha sighed and stood up again, taking her bra off and tossing it aside while grabbing one of Michael's shirts. She crawled into bed beside him and curled up with her back to him, hoping that he'd at least cuddle with her. When that didn't happen, she sighed and closed her eyes, attempting to sleep.

She was in her office. Everything looked the same, even her phone was on the desk. She walked over and stood by her desk, preparing a folder filled with notes for the inmates, when the door opened and slammed shut. She turned her head and saw Mac Rodriguez standing there, his fists bunched as he glared at her.

"Hello Mac. Take a seat-" he suddenly stormed over to her, grabbing her wrists and thrusting her against the wall. Trisha gasped at the impact and her eyes widened. Mac's mouth covered hers instantly, and Trisha found that she was unable to move. Mac had her trapped as he let go of her wrists, his hands now starting to roam her body. They slipped under her shirt and her bra, and the second his hands touched her nipples she was moaning.

Mac pulled away ever so slightly and ripped her shirt away, unclipping her bra as well and leaning down. His tongue flicked over her rosy buds, and Trisha closed her eyes as pleasure overwhelmed her. He lapped at them, and his face started lowering. He slipped her skirt and panties off, and just as his breath hit her wet folds, a loud blaring could be heard.

Beep! Beep! Beep!

Trisha's eyes shot open and her breathing was heavy. Michael sat up with a groan beside her and shut off his alarm clock, throwing the sheets back. Trisha was trying to catch her breath, and she felt that her panties were soaked. Michael stood up and stretched, walking into their bathroom with a yawn. Trisha released her bottom lip, unaware that she had been biting it until now. Her lip was sore, and her heart was fluttering in her chest.

What the hell was that dream? Why was it with Mac, of all people? And why did she like it so much?