Actually, I’m single and quite heterosexual. In my position, it’s important to disqualify myself as an option for patients, for their protection and mine. It would be effortless to take advantage of the inevitable vulnerability. I love my job–sometimes more than life. I’d never jeopardize it. Temptation I can deal with. Vicarious enjoyment suffices, until after hours.
“Hello, Alexis. Nice to see you.”
“Nice to see you too.”
“Any major crises since we last spoke?”
“No. It has been uneventful, as usual.”
“Let’s go a bit deeper this week. I want to discuss masturbation.”
“Jeez, Doc, jump right in!”
“Ha, ha. Well, you know, every tick costs you money.”
“Well, my employer, mostly. Thank goodness for that.”
“Right. So …”
“Yes, my masturbation. What would you like to know?”
“Who or what do you think of when you’re doing it?”
“It’s rarely a who.”
“So, you don’t fantasize about any person in particular–co-worker, movie star, neighbor.”
“No. For me, it’s the situation that is exciting. The men involved are faceless. I mean, I envision physical attributes like powerful shoulders, a flat belly, and a smooth chest. That all helps, but it’s more about the scene.”
“I understand. Any favorite scenes?”
“Gosh. I’ve been with Mike so long. Fine. OK. Sometimes I fantasize about having a one-night stand. That must be a popular one, huh?”
“Pretty much. What’s the buildup for yours?”
DOCTOR’S NOTE: She’s flushing. Crossed her legs.
“I’m in an Italian cafe, sipping an espresso while reading a novel, and a man asks if he can join me.”
“Describe him to me.”
“He’s blurry, but I love his accent, the way he smells, and his confidence. I tease him and say the seat is taken, but he persists. He can tell I’m lying. We chat, and our knees occasionally touch under the table. Roll forward. It’s nighttime, and we’re enjoying wine at the Piazza della Signoria in Florence. It’s chilly. He wraps his arm around and warms me. He kisses my neck. I touch his thigh. He has powerful legs, like a biker.”
DOCTOR’S NOTE: She has closed her eyes. She’s enjoying this. I sense she may have had a drink or two before our appointment.
“Then one of my kids barges into the bedroom crying because her brother stole her toy.”
“Oh. Poor timing. Does that happen often?”
“Seems you need to set aside time when you can’t be interrupted.”
“Ah, like when I meet you. I can be strict with myself, like you are, and demand I leave all electronics in the outer room. No distractions!”
“Good. I’ll get right on that.”
“Let’s continue with your fantasy. You have a great imagination, by the way. Ever thought about writing romance novels?”
“We’ll definitely talk about that later. Let’s continue with love in the piazza.”
“Fine. Things escalate. We drink a little too much. He hails a taxi, which takes us back to his place. We kiss so intensely in the cab that before I know it we’ve arrived at his building. We ride one of those tiny, two-person elevators up to his loft. His place is old and lovely with high ceilings and dark wood. He guides me into the kitchen, where he selects a bottle of wine. Before he can uncork it, we go at each other. He lifts me so I’m sitting on his kitchen island. His hands explore my thighs and hips. He smirks when he finds my lace thong as I dig hungrily at his belt. I undo his jeans and push them down with my feet. He’s commando–so sexy. He peels down my panties and buries himself within me while grasping my hair and kissing me deeply. Then I come.”
“I like your imagination and I’m pleased that you feel comfortable enough with me to share something so intimate. Have you ever discussed a fantasy with Mike?”
“No. He’d be weirded out. Trust me.”
“Have you ever role-played?”
“Every day. I play the role of maid and he plays the role of a throw pillow that eats.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yes, and no.”
“Alexis, it’s good that you have a vivid imagination, but it doesn’t need to be fantasy.”
“Right. I’ll just book a trip to Italy. Case solved. How much do I owe you?”
“Here’s what I want you to do: Give me one night away from your family this weekend.”
“Ugh. Jarrett has soccer playoffs, and …”
“Alexis, one night.”
“Fine. I’ll come up with an excuse.”
“Good. I need you to text my associate, Tonya. Here is her number. She’ll be expecting you, and will make an appointment for late afternoon Friday or Saturday, your choice.”
“What’s Tonya’s role in this?”
“She’s going to, shall we say, shine you up and get you to a place where my work becomes more effective.”
“This isn’t any sort of strange lesbian encounter, right?”
“No, Alexis. Trust me. Tonya is an expert. You’ll adore her and appreciate all she can do for you.”
“OK. You’re the doctor.”
“Good. We’ll speak next week after your big night.”
Diagnosis: She’s missing intimacy. Probably more conservative than kinky.
Treatment: Tonya will build her up. Gary’s man will free her. Ethnic man. Maybe younger.
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