Sensuality

“Won’t you come in, Doctor? No need letting my neighbors know all my business.”

She stepped in. Immediately the aura of the medium-sized living room caught and held her like it was his arms.

“We were making progress. Good progress. You opened up, and now you want to see another therapist?”

“I think it would be best,” he said with his arms folded across his broad chest.

“Why? I’ve been able to help you. I’m a good doctor.”

“You don’t have to sell yourself to me.”

“Then why?” Her voice had raised a tiny bit.

He walked to the window and looked out onto the gorgeous view of the dark city below, then turned back to her. “I’d just prefer a doctor I didn’t want to fuck.”

He knew she would be shaken by his statement, but he also knew she would allow her professionalism to prevail.

“You see? That’s what I mean,” she said. “You’ve opened up. That’s progress.”

“Well, Doctor, how about you opening up? How about a little honesty from you?”

“Me?”

“Yes, you. What are your desires? Your needs? What are your ghosts?”

“Look,” she said with a slight smile. “If this is about what you saw that day—” she began in her doctor-to-patient explanatory tone.

“It’s not about that day. It’s about every day I sit opposite you, which I prefer, incidentally, when you draw detail after detail out of me about who I am. Or maybe who you want me to be.”

“That’s insane. I don’t think there’s been any impropriety on my part.”

“No.” He laughed. “And there wouldn’t be. Not with you, and you know why?”

She waited a full minute before answering, wishing his dark eyes weren’t boring into hers the way they were. “Well, since you have all the answers, why?”

“Because you don’t want to be responsible.”

“Excuse me?”

“That’s right. You don’t want to be responsible for what you want, for doing the things you desire. You don’t want to be responsible for wanting to get fucked.”

Her eyes grew wide with incredulity. “That’s crazy.”

“Oh really? I bet you can’t even say it. You want to, but you can’t, and there’s never been anyone to make you want to say it.”

“I can see this has been a mistake.” She sighed, fumbling with her purse. “Maybe another therapist

will suit you better.”

“Good! And now that we’ve detached our medical relationship, I think you should know there is no way you’re leaving this apartment until I have tasted your pussy.”

She stared at him, her adrenaline pumping wildly. She was beginning to feel trapped and her eyes widened to the size of nickels.

“Don’t worry. I’ve never raped a woman in my life, and I won’t begin now. You’ll give it to me. You’ll give it all to me because you want to, and you’ll like it.”

As much as she wanted to leave, his words had titillated her. He was right—no one had ever spoken to her the way he had.

He went to her and gently took her purse and laid it on the side table.