by Gina Messina
“If I talk any faster I’m going to forget something. I don’t want to leave anything out. For God’s sake, you’re the one who’s always complaining that I don’t give you enough details! Now your rushing me!”
“Your right Charlie. Just tell me what happened next and then we can finish up next week.”
“Ok then, that sounds reasonable. We were sitting across from each other, so close our knees practically touched under the table. When the waiter appeared, David ordered for both of us. I was sure I wasn’t the first girl he cheated on his wife with!” Charlie leaned back and closed her eyes, lost in the memory. She almost felt as though she were back in that private dining room with David, reliving the sensations he made her feel on that night.
Charlie had been unexpectedly ravenous when the Beluga caviar he’d ordered arrived. When she lifted the smooth abalone spoon to her lips, it was if the tiny eggs were bursting with a briny pleasure against her tongue. She could feel David’s piercing blue eyes studying her face. When she looked up, he grinned knowingly, then reached over to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The feel of his fingers sent shocks of electricity throughout her entire body and for the briefest moment, she forgot all about the shoes.
“Don’t stop,” Dr. Harrison said, interrupting her thoughts. “What happened next?” she barely choked out then dragged her chair closer to the sofa, her notepad almost slipping to the floor.
Charlie was pretty sure her doctor was getting turned on by her story, too, and she was also pretty sure her cheeks were starting to redden under the reflection of her round horn rimmed glasses which were beginning to fog up with the irregularity of her breathing.
She shook her head in surprise. A few months ago she would’ve never guessed her shrink would get so worked up by her stories. She wasn’t the type. She wore Birkenstocks! Or at least she had last week. And, her ancestors had come over on the fucking Mayflower, for God’s sake! She just couldn’t wrap her head around this. That is, until she remembered the new shoes. Of course, the new shoes. Today is different, isn’t it? Today, Dr. Harrison slipped her perfectly pedicured red polished toes into peep-toe designer heels and became another person.
Charlie glanced back at her with renewed interest. I sure hope she doesn’t try to make a move on me, she guardedly considered. It would make things so much more complicated. She tightly crossed her arms over her chest and remembered her last psychiatrist, Dr. Anthony Del Frisco. Now that was a real name! Meaty.
I’ll have the Del Frisco, medium rare with a baked potato and a side of the house creamed spinach, she imagined herself ordering at the local chophouse. It was a name with some character. Not like the Mayflower stick in the mud that sat before her. Generations probably sacrificed so that Tony could end up in his posh medical suite on Park Avenue. Perhaps there was even a quarantine on Ellis Island, by a great-grandmother or such, before they hoofed it to the slums and found employment as a seamstress or chimney sweep, squirreling every hard earned dollar under a lumpy mattress so the next generation of Anthony’s could thrive.
Charlie reflected back on it. She’d almost forgotten how handsome he’d been, in an oily sort of way, and he did have the loveliest pair of handmade Bruno Magli’s she’d ever seen on a man. Too bad he tried to shove his garlic-laced tongue down her throat midway through their third session and wouldn’t take no for an answer. No, she shook her head. What I need right now is a doctor, not a playmate.
“Are you still with me?” Dr. Harrison questioned, looking intently at her. Charlie nodded an answer before her shrink continued, with obvious anticipation, “So, do you want to tell me more about David?”
“Well, it was in fact, an evening to remember,” she coyly maintained, then paused to add drama while deliberating to herself that she was probably the only idiot in Manhattan that was about to pay $350.00 an hour so her psychiatrist could get herself off. Charlie shrugged this notion off easily, though, because it was Sean’s money that was paying for her weekly therapy and lately, he seemed to have plenty of it. So much in fact, that he could keep his newest girlfriend, Lizbeth, in the fucking lap of luxury. The least he can do is pay for my therapy and if my doctor gets turned on in the process, then that’s an added bonus, she figured. So she began by detailing everything about that night while Dr. Harrison listened with bated breath.
She had loved it when she felt David reach under the table and start to caress her knee and responded by lifting her leg ever so slightly. Gradually, he glided his hand down her calf toward her ankle, slipping one finger under the suede ankle strap of her Fendi’s.
“These are very sexy shoes for a very sexy woman,” he purred seductively.
“I have an obsession with shoes,” she spoke softly.
He then leaned in closer and murmured, “Tell me everything about this obsession of yours.” The reverberation of his voice against her ear and his hot breath on her skin, caused an immediate electrical charge to shoot down her spine. His face was within inches of hers as she focused on his lower lip and wondered what he would do if she were to nibble it.
“Shoes excite me,” she confessed.
He arched his eyebrows with interest, “Do they?”
“Yes, and there’s one pair in particular that I long for. They’re by far, the sexiest things I’ve ever seen.”
“And I’m sure you’ve seen … everything,” he responded, the word ‘everything’ lingered in the air while his eyes traveled down to her breasts.
Charlie wondered if he knew how erect her nipples were starting to become, which wasn’t necessarily because of him, but rather because of those lusty shoes. Every time she thought of them, her body involuntarily reacted!
“Not everything. Just those sexy shoes with their signature red soles and stiletto heels. I visit them every chance I get. They’re always sitting in the window at the Christian Louboutin Boutique on the corner of 5th Avenue and 53rd Street, calling to me. I try them on all the time. When the salesman sees me coming, he runs into the stockroom and brings out a size eight. I know those shoes are going to take me places I’ve only imagined,” she voiced with such a rush of excitement, she almost forgot to stop and breathe. Although Charlie almost forgot to breath, she didn’t forget to make certain that David knew exactly where he could buy those Louboutin’s and what size to buy them in, too.
She could still picture him sitting at the small dining table and throwing his head back in joyful laughter when he saw how electrified talking about them made her feel.
“Such a simple thing as this brings so much joy to your face,” he had crooned and then bent forward and placed his hand on her inner thigh, seductively telling her, “I plan on taking you to a place that you’ve never dreamed possible.” His hand slowly moved in between her legs and his fingers pushed aside her thong.
She’d been rendered speechless. She stared at him with her lips slightly parted and her heart beating louder and faster than she’d ever imagined possible.
“Did he, Charlie? Did he take you places you never dreamed possible?” Dr. Harrison interrupted with a lascivious look.
Charlie mirrored her psychiatrist’s expression with a lascivious look of her own before whole heartedly telling her, “He took me to the moon and back!”
“I’m going to need details; I don’t know how many times I have to tell you how important the details can be to the success of your therapy!”
Charlie wasn’t sure if her doctor could handle the details of that night but she was willing to take a calculated risk. She figured she had nothing to lose except her sanity which was already three sheets to the wind. So, she delivered the goods and described every sordid thing that happened in that private dining room so many years earlier
“Does this feel good? he had softly asked as his fingers continued to do their work.
“Mmmm, it feels really good,” she murmured back, feeling the rise of an impending burst of ecstasy building inside of her. She wiggled in anticipation with her eyes slightly closed
, trying her best to stay composed while feeling her body on the brink of exploding. But, just when she was on the verge of bursting, he stopped. Her eyes flew open and her orgasm faded away. She tried to protest, but before she could utter a word, his hand moved down her leg once again and he expertly unbuckled the strap of her shoe. She reacted by slightly spreading her thighs wider. She was getting moist all over, her skin formed a slight dew like flush and her upper lip lightly beaded with sweat.
While Charlie talked, she could see her doctor’s eyes widen and her hands methodically smooth the fabric of her skirt. Jeez, she muttered to herself. Has this woman really been living in a bubble all her life? She hadn’t even gotten to the juicy stuff yet and she was sure that Dr. Harrison had already creamed the floral grandma underwear she was undoubtedly wearing. Since she didn’t want to be any crueler than absolutely necessary, though there was admittedly some warped part of her that wanted her doctor to suffer (just a little) because the bitch deserved it. Charlie had just figured out that the fantastic new shoes she was wearing were none other than Hermes! And they were a small fortune! Even Sean would have complained if he saw a charge like that on his credit card. She knew she’d seen them before. She remembered the Hermes advertisement in W Magazine that she religiously reads every month. The ad had caught her attention because it featured a photograph of that super-skinny model, Katie Voss, with her skeletal body, wearing those priceless little gems and nothing more. It reminded her of when she was so thin people actually thought she was anorexic, but in a good way! And her psychiatrist was wearing them … on her feet!
What a waste, she thought viciously. She doesn’t deserve those shoes. I do!
Charlie looked up and gave Dr. Harrison a hard stare then reluctantly asked, “Just out of curiosity, are those Hermes pumps?”
“We’re not here to discuss my life, Charlie, or my shoes. Please stay focused and continue.”
“I was just asking; you don’t have to get your grandma panties in a wad.”
“And, not that’s it’s any of your business, but I happen to buy my undergarments at Victoria’s Secret.”
Charlie was surprised. She personally wasn’t partial to Victoria’s Secret. As a matter of fact, she made a point of boycotting their lingerie. She had a real problem the way Sean would get so excited a few weeks before they aired their annual fashion show on prime time television. It had even turned her stomach one year when he rushed out and bought the newest flat screen on the market, just so he could watch the show in high definition.
“Like I was saying, when the waiter came in with our entrees I tried to pull away from David, but he tightened his grip around my ankle. It was almost as if he were mocking the poor guy.”
She’d felt sorry for the waiter—a rather prudish looking fellow whose anemic face had started to redden. He probably never dealt with a situation like that before. She could tell he was trying to be professional when he served the herb-crusted lamb, filled their water goblets and uncorked a vintage Chateau La Fleur. After he decanted the wine, he stood waiting for Sean’s approval to carry on with the pour. It was clear that David enjoyed the attention he was commanding.
“I’ll let my lovely companion have the first taste,” he told the waiter.
David then dipped his finger into the wine glass, stretched over the table, and swept his thumb roughly over Charlie’s lips before inserting it deep into her mouth. She could taste the sweetness of the wine while her throat became tight and her breathing more labored and could hardly wait for what was to come. The waiter seemed resigned with the awkward situation and averted his eyes to the ceiling until David dismissed him with a nod, all the while keeping his eyes focused on her swollen, ruby stained lips. Charlie had been, quite literally, breathless.
“And?” Dr. Harrison questioned in a high pitch voice.
“Well, after the waiter served our meal, David gestured for me to come closer to him by gently patting his lap. Like an obedient child, I rose from my chair and went over to him. Facing him, I sat on his lap and straddled his body with my legs. I could feel his hardness on my bare bottom, pressing into the soft fleshy area between my thighs. And then we kissed deeply.”
She didn’t tell her how David had continued to feed her the entire glass of wine with his fingers, one precious drop at a time. It just seemed too intimate to talk about, especially with the way her shrink was staring at her.
“Charlie, will you excuse me while I use the ladies room.”
“No worries,” she answered, reaching for her phone. She started to scroll through her many messages, patiently waiting, then questioning what the hell could her doctor possibly be doing in the bathroom for such a long time. Maybe she’s getting herself off, releasing all that latent pent up sexual frustration?
Soon after she came back, appearing much more relaxed, Charlie was uncomfortably startled. Instead of sitting in her normal chair, Dr. Harrison took a seat next to her on the couch. She vaguely recollected reading that this was a tactic used by psychiatrists and therapists. A technique that was supposed to put the patient at ease, on a more even playing field, or something to that effect. She’d better not attempt to jam her tongue down my throat like that Dr. Del Frisco did, she thought wearily.
“We’re drawing to the end of the session. Why don’t you finish telling me about David,” she said with what Charlie felt was a demented enthusiasm, which for some reason, just didn’t seem right. When her doctor leaned in closer, with her perfectly altered Anglican nose just inches from her own face, a wave of claustrophobia rapidly overcame her.
“You had just finished your meal and …” she prompted.
“Well, David leaned into me and told me he wanted to take me right there. In that dining room! He didn’t even hesitate. He just stood me up and slipped the straps of my dress over each of my shoulders. When it fell to the ground, puddling around my ankles, I was left standing naked, except for my pearl necklace and the shoes on my feet.”
“And what happened next? Just keep marching forward! We’ll get through this together,” she pressed with unequivocal enthusiasm.
“What do you think happened next?” Charlie remarked sarcastically. She began to feel as if something we’re definitely wrong, almost as if she was being punked! Is this being recorded for private viewing pleasure later on? She quickly scanned the office for hidden webcams but when it came up clean, she had no choice but to march forward like her psychiatrist had requested.
“David took my hand and led me to the large plate glass window then turned me so I was facing the street. My back was to him. I felt nervous energy coursing through my body when I looked down at the foot traffic below. There were last minute holiday shoppers rushing from store to store, businessmen hailing cabs, even a woman walking her dogs. It was all so eerie, these strangers going about their daily lives. They were so close; I could nearly reach out and touch them.”
Dr. Harrison narrowed her eyes. “And that must have made you feel somewhat vulnerable?” she stated, before leaning back in her chair and smugly putting her hands behind her head.
Charlie shook her head. “No. Not vulnerable. More like liberated and exhilarated.”
“Exhilarated?” her doctor echoed in a genuinely bewildered way.
“I was exhilarated by the thought of someone looking up and seeing me naked. Of one stranger witnessing David pressing my warm body up against that cold glass. Seeing my nipples harden like the small pearls that were around my neck,” Charlie answered, then watched the curiosity simmer in Dr. Harrison’s green eyes. Curiosity with, perhaps, a touch of envy? she questioned. Good! That makes us even, she thought while glancing down at the Hermes shoes. Every time she looked at them she had to fight the urge to tackle her doctor and rip them off her feet. The only way she could control herself was by placing her hands underneath her ass, instead.
“Do you know if anyone actually saw you?” Dr. Harrison questioned.
Charlie was sure her doctor was hoping for a yes. “I
don’t know. I was too preoccupied with David to notice. He was…a very good distraction.”
All she’d been able to feel was his fingers tangled in her hair, his velvety tongue weaving its magic down her spine and his throbbing groin pressed firmly against her backside. He’d been holding her hair tightly with one hand and cupping her breast with the other, when he slowly entered her from behind. Her thighs were glistening with her wetness as she lost herself in the strange comfort of each thrust. Each one becoming deeper, harder and then faster and faster.
“Oh God!” she had cried out when she heard his groans echoing in her ear. Her hands reached behind her, grabbing his thighs, letting him ride her with reckless abandon.
“You like it, don’t you?” he had murmured in between thrusts. “Someone could be watching us right now. I bet it’s turning you on.” He thrusted faster and she cried out even more.
“He kept telling me someone could be watching us right now, and at the mention of those words…I lost it,” she told Dr. Harrison.
“Lost it?”
“Afterwards, all of my senses were exaggerated in a way I’d never experienced before.”
“Details, Charlie, I need more specifics in order to understand exactly how you were feeling. The minutia is just as important as the broad sweeping facts.”
“I don’t know. It was weird. When my back was still toward him, I could distinctly hear the metallic ping of his buckle when he fastened his belt. I could taste the salty sweat on my upper lip and see the smudge my palms prints made on the icy windowpane. I was so aware, by the silence in the room, that I was holding my breath and there was the unmistakable yeasty odor of sex in the air.”
Charlie stopped there, realizing she was practically panting and looked over at Dr. Harrison, curious to hear what her doctor was going to say next. While waiting, she took a moment to reflect on how she had felt when they left the Metropolitan Club that night. They’d been holding hands like a real couple. Charlie had no idea that five years later, while wearing ivory silk mules by Valentino and a very Jackie-O A-line wedding dress, she’d be sitting with her back to that very same window. Neither did she have any hunch that while dancing with her new husband, Sean, she’d glance over her right shoulder and see, imprinted in her memory, those same sweaty palm prints that were left on the glass pane that night. Charlie wouldn’t recognize who she was then or how David must have seen her. She would be a million miles away.