✎ The Action as slow as delicate and exciting of the beautiful Jenny confuses the school psychologist for a moment in search of a second youth.
What expert air-caresses!
Unwittingly, more used to Martha's wrinkled old body than to the tenderness of a young skin, James imagines Jenny's tender little hand opening one by one the buttons of her jeans bought at the city supermarket and gently grabbing his big...
Yet, as a professional who knows the limits not to be crossed, he mentally calms his partner in crime, then his mind returned to his cheap professional chair provided by the school already six years ago, he clears his voice.
"Jenny, how can you know that Rasputin didn't like tuna? It's been a long time since I had to pick up the pieces of my little furry friend on the road and if I'm not mistaken, you never met him."
Very curious to know the answer of the girl with the abundant and firm chest concerning this being all in hairs who had a more important influence on his life than his own wife will ever have, James leaves the breasts of the beautiful to concentrate on her face which, if it did not carry perpetually a silly expression, could approach the perfection incarnated.
In answer to the question of the old man who, if he has never been able to realize his dream or even wear an Armani suit, has nevertheless learned to dress for $10, Jenny continues to caress the space above her legs.
He may only be a school psychologist working in a garbage school but James knows it:
If he doesn't insist that Jenny respond as soon as possible, in less than a minute the beautiful girl will be back to picking fruit.
"Jenny, do you also know the brand of her favorite kibble?"
A little annoyed by the long silence, the school psychologist would like to be able to activate the fast-forward button in Jenny's brain, unfortunately, when she was born, this naive girl was not delivered with all the basic options.
Knowing that if not insisting on motivating Jenny will not bring her any enlightenment, pressing Jenny too much will prove counterproductive. Deciding to use the time she agrees to answer him to chase away the chronic fatigue caused by an overly intrusive Martha, James reaches over and pulls a small round box from his purple velvet satchel. His expression similar to that of a child in front of a sweet, he does not waste a second to unscrew the lid of the box from which he takes out a small blue pill, and without delay, he swallows his favorite candy.
As soon as the little round chemical object goes down into his stomach, James feels a sense of fullness invade his whole being.
Again this morning, although he has known for a long time that it does him no good, James had the bad surprise to wake up near his fat wife. Stressed out and not looking forward to going to his job, which he only moderately enjoys, before moving away from the beast, he promptly swallowed four of those little magic pills.
At the 10:00am break, after having received an idiot girl of sixteen who did not stop talking to him about her little misfortunes of spoiled kid, James again consumed five of these delights which know how to release his conscience.
After lunch, a red fruit sorbet that made him understand that making an appointment with his dentist would not be money badly spent and three other tablets, came quickly the moment to return in this office where as always, was waiting for him this particularly uncomfortable and undeniably ugly chair.
Relaxed but somewhat confused following the ingestion of too many of those little sweets, soon, the beautiful idiot girl crossed the threshold of her door humming the music of an advertisement selling new baby diapers.
A moment ago, feeling a little tired, James knew that if he wanted to continue his day as a professional and relieve the bulbous deficiencies that abound in this place, one of his favorite antidepressants wouldn't go amiss.
Like a newborn, breathing in his first mouthful of pure oxygen since thirty minutes, it is a relieved James whose body is filled with a renewed breath of life that slowly closes his slightly misty eyes. His head somewhat wobbly, his limbs cottony, his senses asleep, he definitely knows no better feeling than this sense of quietude.
Even the morning, when he wakes up with her big buttocks close to him, one or two magic tablets and suddenly, Martha seems so far away...
Light, happy, rested, only wanting to enjoy this soul-saving second state, as a conscientious professional, James nevertheless opens his eyes.
However... Maybe he has consumed too much of his favorite sweets or it is also possible that he has greatly underestimated his state of fatigue but whatever the cause of his sudden mental stress, once again tormented for a reason that he himself, a professional of the brain, cannot identify, he takes a quick look at the box of drugs he started this very morning.
(Be careful, no more than 3 per day.)
Too smart to be fooled by this warning which is only intended for the most simple-minded consumers, he ignores this message which could not dupe a professional of the brain such as him.
Knowing that the box contains 20 of these pills and that currently there are only 7 left... Indeed, the stress of everyday life, fed by a Martha who is definitely responsible for the majority of his ailments, could have led him to abuse his miracle remedy a little.
James is by nature a skeptic, and in the face of the improbable things that are happening in his office right now, he finds it comforting to think that indeed, these mirages must be due to the abuse of his medicated candy.
"He's kind Rasputin! Yes, he's handsome Rasputin."
Yet, as much as he would like to convince himself of this in order to ensure the stability of his mental state, the abuse of antidepressants or the fatigue caused by Martha, does not justify everything. At least that's the opinion of the stunned school psychologist whose eyes are riveted on Jenny's long legs.
Without being able to say a word, James observes the young girl's beautiful face, which still has that stupidly happy expression on it. It is all the more true that at this very moment, in addition to its usual moronic expression, the small companion which lounges on its knees and which she tenderly caresses, purrs of pleasure.
"Freud is my witness! Jenny, your unstable state may justify your stupid behavior but, how dare you bring a dead animal to school?"
Of course, the all-bone cat that the young woman takes such pleasure in petting with her hands doesn't explain everything. Certainly, that stinking carcass meowing in a low tone with a few pieces of rotting meat still attached to it doesn't explain to James why his chair is floating several inches off the ground.
It's quite obvious that this carrion doesn't explain the presence of that pink aura that has invaded the room, but in order not to lose his footing, the sight of a dead animal in his office is the only logical thing to which the auto-proclaimed skeptic can hold on to.
With the legs of his crudely finished and tasteless chair no longer touching the floor, the school psychologist clutches at his raspy armrests. Lost, seeing all his convictions and certainties suddenly questioned, his salvation comes when Jenny's beautiful eyes meet his.
"Rasputin has come to show us the way."
Of course, how could he even imagine that something sensible would come out of that little mouth that only knows how to do two things properly:
Eat and talk crap.
"In the meantime, show him where the window is. This carrion stinks almost as bad as your father's armpits. Wait a second, where did the window go?" ✏