Page 14 of The Wickedness of Man

I’d felt the draw of watching Danny march around his apartment without his clothes on—like after he got out of the shower, and water beaded down his back and shoulders. I’d even been able to give him most of a hand job on a couple occasions—I’d given him blowjobs, too, but I’d never been able to bring him all the way. Although the fear in the back of my mind that my parents would somehow find out was always there whenever I’d touched him, I’d enjoyed it.

More than enjoyed it, in fact. I’dlovedhelping him come. I’d loved the way he looked when he reached that moment of pure orgasmic bliss. I’d even loved when he’d use my hand to bring himself to climax, and I’d get wet whenever I felt his cum dripping hotly over my skin. I’d once tasted him, running a tongue along my fingers after he’d fallen asleep, and the deep, intense need that filled my belly almost brought me to my knees. I’d wanted to make love to him. I’d wanted to feel him inside ofme. I’d wanted it so bad… but the moment I thought about what might happen if my parents found out sent me into a deep spiral of panic.

I had to stop myself from thinking about sex. I was sweating; suddenly hot like I’d stepped into a sauna with all my clothes on. I panted, fanning myself.

The air felt… thick here. I tried to compose myself; licked dry lips and convinced myself sex was just on the mind because of where I was; what I was there to talk about. But thinking about Danny’s body hadn’t incurred the panicky sensation those kinds of thoughts normally created inside of me, it provoked something… else. Something I didn’t find unpleasant at all. By the time the doors opened and I stepped out into the hall, I was as composed as I could be, which was to say, not at all. I rolled the sleeves of my sweater up. It had been close to sixty degrees outside, but in here, I was practically boiling.

On the wall in front of me, behind a vacant receptionist’s desk, was a lit-up sign that saidIntimates, Inc.in bright pink and purple with a pair of red lips beside it. The entire room was tastefully done with plain modern black and white décor. There were pleasant, yet unremarkable paintings on the wall that might be found in any therapy office. No erotic images or anything, just vaguely surrealist flowers and still-life pictures. I stood there dumbly for a minute, contemplating running back for the elevator. I could imagine Katie’s annoyance, though, when I called her back to come get me.

I approached the receptionist’s desk, more to find something to lean against to stop the wobbling in my knees than to alert anyone of my arrival, but there was a single phone on the desk with a small, handwritten note beside it.

Please pick up the phone and dial “0.” I will buzz you into the main office.

I read the note, then looked around reception to see if there were any cameras and didn’t spy one. I picked up the phone… but didn’t press zero. Maybe I could still run and just hide out in a café somewhere and then tell Katie I’d gone and done the thing and didn’t feel it was right for me after all? A woman’s voice sounded at my ear like she’d just appeared out of thin air beside me.

“Ms. Church?”

“What the fuck?!” I exclaimed, spinning around.

Dr. Lowe stood there, looking much like she’d looked in the pamphlet—before her photo had disappeared out of it, that was. I’d asked Katie about it when she’d woken up, but she couldn’t recall anyway, so had the woman before me not so resembled the image I’d seen, I would have doubted my own sanity. Knees shaking, I turned to face her and adjusted the bag at my back.

There was no doubting it was her. She wore the same wireframes and had the same piercing eyes—a gaze that felt as if she was staring inside of me, rather than at me. She wore a white dress shirt and some gray slacks that hugged every inch of her goddess-like figure and left very little to the imagination. It made me feel all the more insecure in the baggy sweater I was now sweating profusely inside of.

“Uh… yes, sorry,” I managed, trying to recover myself. “Dr. Lowe, right?”

She beamed at me like I’d said something particularly clever, even though it was about as obvious a statement as I could have made, yet for some reason, her approval felt like a cool breeze against my clammy skin. I leaned forward as she reached a hand delicately toward me, her highly polished blood-red nailscatching the light and glinting like diamonds. I put my hand into hers to shake it, and my legs nearly collapsed beneath me. I staggered, but with ease, Dr. Lowe caught my elbow and held me upright.

“Oh, my dear, are you not feeling well? Come, I’ll get you some water. Have you eaten anything today?”

“I’m… I don’t know. I… I think I should go. I shouldn’t be here?—”

“Nonsense, you’re safe with me. I can’t have you going out into the streets like this, not knowing if you’re okay. Come along. I’ll make sure you’re all right.”

She tucked me safely into her embrace, and led me to the left, toward double doors tinted almost completely black, all the while wrapping an arm possessively around my shoulders in much the same way I’d seen Derek do to Concepción the night before. And much like Concepción, to my great horror and embarrassment, I found myself leaning my head on her shoulder like we were the closest of friends; lovers, even—and before I could get a chance to apologize and pull away, she pressed my head back down to her shoulder, my cheek now even closer to her ample chest. With the arm around my shoulders, she held me there gently a moment and with her free hand, opened the dark doors that led into a dimly lit back room.

“Don’t worry my darling,” she purred at me. “I’ll take good care of you. I know just what will make you feel right as rain again—in fact, it should be here soon.”

Her words were like a balm to my soul. I could scarcely breathe or think. It was all happening so fast—butwhatwas happening? I was clinging to this woman, my arms wrapped around her middle as she held me fast to her side in the dimly lit office.

“This way. There’s a quiet room back here where you can rest and regain your strength. I’m sorry, some people are far more sensitive than others—I should have considered beforehand.”

Ihmmedat her words, even though nothing felt like it made sense. From the elevator to… wherever I was now, was almost solidly a blur. The only thing in my mind was the wondrous way it felt to be in this woman’s embrace. She opened another door and inside was a room with the same backlit dimness as the hall. There was a couch against the wall to the right, a small coffee table, and a mini fridge in the corner.

She led us both over to the couch and then lowered me carefully onto it before retrieving some water bottles from the refrigerator. Although I found myself suddenly bereft at the loss of her touch, I was grateful for the chance to sit and have some water. I downed half the bottle in nearly one gulp. I was parched; sweating; panting.

Horny.

The realization struck me like a mallet. I tucked my hands against my cheeks, shocked to find they were as hot as a five-alarm fire.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I sputtered, fanning myself once more. “Maybe it’s because I was drinking last night—I don’t normally, but?—”

Dr. Lowe sat beside me on the couch and laughed, her voice like the twinkling of bells. Every sound she made was like music, and it rolled over my body like a physical touch. I swayed, closing my eyes and enjoying the sensations.

“You’re perfectly fine, Magdalene. It’s a normal response.”

“No—Madga… if you please. Only my parents use that name, and I’m… not too fond of it, given the connotations.”

“Connotations?” asked the doctor.

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