The Secrets of a Woman with Glasses, Psychologist
There was something about him that didn’t quite fit the profile I usually received in consultations. The guy sat down, as always, with a half-smile that wasn’t quite cordial or entirely sincere. The woman with glasses arranged him in my chair and showed him her legs, stockings with a garter belt underneath the dress, like a seduction tool. She adjusted her blouse so the guy could see her tits perfectly long enough before starting to take notes. An automatic, professional gesture, part of my routine as a psychologist.
He spoke with unusual calm. His tone was soft, intimate, as if every word he uttered was directed at me beyond the clinical context. He described a past relationship, with subtle details but laden with barely concealed sensuality. The woman with glasses nodded, as always, trying to keep me focused, although my mind began to wander to less ethical and more provocative places until she decided to take off her blouse and remain only in her garter belt.
At one point, she fell silent. The woman with glasses watched when she began to stimulate his penis with her fingers in an attempt to redirect the session into a casual sexual encounter, and the guy got carried away by the situation, staring at the garter belt worn by the busty blonde. The room, normally a space for listening and support, now seemed charged with something else. Tension, attraction, and curiosity.
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In the office, the tension was palpable
The woman with glasses, who was listening, analyzing, and guiding, was beginning to lose control and decided to perform the best oral sex the man could imagine. The initial idea was to simply write down every word the man said in a notebook, faking the situation. But the woman with glasses and pretty garter stockings had already decided to have casual sex with that client in the office. Because the truth is, for weeks now, every time he walked through that door, something inside me stirred.
The woman with glasses and luxurious garter stockings, like a professional, blew the situation out of control by tirelessly seeking vaginal sex. I ended the session with a big smile, with the same neutrality I’d learned to master over the years, and dismissed him with a firm gesture. But when the door closed, I sat there, feeling the touch of the garter stockings against my skin, knowing that, for the first time, I’d had sex without any strings attached in the office. A psychologist in garter stockings shouldn’t feel anything. But I had felt something a lot.