by Liv Morris
The new green dress is wrapped tightly around my body, fitting like a glove. Gathering at my lower back, it highlights the curves Mother Nature gave me. Underneath, I’m wearing a black satin corset from a charming boutique I frequented in Paris.
The feeling of being confined by the tightly strung lingerie, with my breasts positioned high in my dress, is an erotic blend. My breathing is more labored than usual, and I can't place all the blame on the corset. The plain and simple fact is I need sex, because dammit, I’m strung up tight, literally and figuratively.
I can’t remember the last time I thought about taking a few shots of tequila before I went out for the evening. But the idea tempts me now. Instead, I shake off the thought and prepare to leave for the night.
I place a sheer black wrap around my upper body in hopes of keeping the evening’s chill away. After tossing one end of the wrap over my shoulder, I grab my clutch off the hallway table and walk out the door.
Tonight my mother’s driver is taking me to the foundation event. He brought her to Lincoln Center a couple of hours ago, and now his entire evening is free as he waits for the event to conclude. I do love Armand, her driver. He’s always on time, which means he’s likely waiting for me outside the building since I’m running a few minutes late.
Once I’ve made my way to the lobby, I see the first other human being since I closed my door earlier. From the look on my doorman Carl’s face, I believe this dress was a perfect choice because the usually talkative Carl is stunned to silence. His jaw also dropped open to his chest.
In a flirty fashion, I wave and blow a kiss as I pass by Carl. Between the hair and makeup perfection at the Red Door, my mother’s gift of the dress, and the snug corset, I feel a sense of expectancy. Although I have no idea why or what I am really expecting to happen. It’s likely the fact that I need to get out more and also this sexual drought I’m experiencing. I think finding the bar will be first on my list tonight.