"I wish that women want sex twice as often as guys do."
"Joe! Stop changing things!" Dr Hauser was practically in tears "Don't you understand?! The further you retreat into these fantasies the less stable your mind will become."
I smiled and shook my head. "A, I'm firmly in touch with reality, you're the one denying your natural impulses and the behaviors our new society expects, And B, sane and insane are every bit as relative as moral judgements."
I leaned back and laced my fingers behind my head. "and if scientists are right you've thought about having sex, like three times since I made my last wish."
"It doesn't work like that, Joe." Dr Hauser was blushing furiously. "That's a pop-science myth quoted out of context." She folded her trembling hands and placed them on her crossed legs. "Your wish may have affected women in aggregate, that is as a whole, but it doesn't mean that I specifically am going to behave any less professionally during our sessions."
She was trying her best to stare me down, so I started flexing my pecks and spread my legs a bit. Doc's eyes dipped first to my chest, then to my crotch before she quickly looked away, swallowing convulsively.
"Besides," she continued, "I said 'less stable' not 'less sane'." She wrung her hands and shifted position slightly. "Someone with a stable mind can correctly interpret and respond to stimuli in their environment, controlling their more animalistic impulses. Keep going at it," she coughed lightly, "keep progressing like you have been and your only reaction to things which displease you is going to be to wish them away. You'll forget what being human means, that your actions are supposed to have consequences, you'll just be adrift and--"
"I think Jean was right," I broke in, "you're not wearing any panties are you?" Doctor Hauser tugged at her skimpy skirt, smoothing it and leaving a hand holding it down in front of her crotch. She was looking anywhere in the room but at me. "So judging by the cultural attitudes Jean shared that'd mean you're signaling that you're interested in fucking me."
Doc flinched and I grinned.
"Fucking." another flinch. "Coitus. Humping. Screwing." Big twitch to the last one. "You wanna screw don't cha Doc? You're sitting there with your hand pressed against your wet, juicy pussy and you can't even look at me you wanna screw so badly. You're so horny you just wanna fuck, fuck, fuck, fuckity-fuck!"
"All right! Yes, I'm aroused! Are you happy now?! You got me to say it!" Doc pulled herself out of her chair and teetered over to the window in her high heels. She pressed her forehead and hands against the glass. "I've been trying to help you get yourself pulled together so you can finish school, and when by some miracle you're given the power to change anything you want, you just use it to act out juvenile sexual fantasies and argue relative morality. What's next Joe? Are you going to wish all women to act like prostitutes as well as dressing like them?"
"Nah, you're already all slutty cock-hounds. Hell, Jean'd probably suck me off on my way out if I asked nicely." Doc probably wasn't aware her skirt was so short in back she was basically flashing her vag at me by leaning against the window. It was bright pink, shaved hairless, and oozing milky drops of lubricant. Or maybe she did know, maybe this was her way of asking for sex without having to come out and beg. "I wonder what you'd do, if I asked nicely?"
"Joe, I'm your therapist. I can't help you if we become sexually involved." She turned around and finally looked at me again. He cheeks were flushed and her top certainly didn't hide her tight nipples poking against the fabric. She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled. "I am NOT going to have sex with you. Not voluntarily. Sure, you can just wish me to fuck you, wish my clothes away, wish me to become a nymphomaniac--but I will never Choose, of my own free will, to have sex with you. Now get out of my office, I never want to see you again!"
I considered how to respond...