With his back facing the entrance to the study, he did not see her enter; pausing just inside of the doorway. As he played, she stood there listening and marveling at how well he could play. She had seen a piano on a prior visit but many people have pianos and organs in their homes and only for show. But she had been grossly mistaken about the owner of these two musical instruments. This man apparently could play and at the professional level.
As she quietly absorbed the tune, she found it seductive and breathtaking and in a romantic way…haunting. It wasn’t long before she found herself closing the gap between them. When she was a few feet away he turned and glanced at her but continued to play, never once missing a note. She continued her dream-like approach until she was standing next to him and watching his gloved hands play with a life of their own, his feet depressing the various bass pedals and in time with the music. It reminded her of a wedding dream she once had. But unlike in her dream, her handsome groom and his corsage and her own bouquet were missing. That’s all she needed, along with one or two witnesses, and a priest. If only her Prince Charming, whoever he was, could play like this man she would marry him on the spot.
So powerful the music and her own thoughts, she felt her eyes grow misty. She had never heard such a beautiful piece of music before. If she could, she would ask him to never stop playing. But he did.
“Professor, that was the most beautiful organ piece I have ever heard before,” she quipped. “I never knew you could play and so well.”
“Thank you. And yes, I can play,” he replied. “I see you decided to come. I also see that you appear to be compliant with my special request.”
“Yes, I decided to come,” she said as she steadied her eyes on his covered face.
“I am glad that you did,” he said, standing up. “And I must say that you look stunning, Irene.”
There, that was the final approval she was looking for.
“Thank you, professor.”
As he stood towering over her he crossed his gloved hands.
“Well, have you determined what our lesson is going to be this evening, Irene?” he asked.
“I believe it is about the subject of sexuality.”
“You are indeed perceptive. Follow me, please.”
Chapter 10
Where they were going Irene could only imagine but she followed him, trusting him. At this point in their relationship he could probably talk her into going deep sea diving in a cove full of Mako sharks.
Within a matter of seconds, they entered the dining room where she observed a table set for one.
“I have taken the liberty of preparing you dinner,” he began. “I hope you find roasted pheasant acceptable to your palate. As a side dish, you have a choice of Chicken and Broccoli Alfredo or Gnocchi with Tomato Sauce, or a little of both, if you care. As for me, I have already dined.”
“A little of both will be fine,” she replied, though she was unfamiliar with either dish.
“Before you sit down, come with me for a second.”
The two paused before a full length mirror on a stand where their eyes met.
“Tell me, what do you see, Irene?” he asked.
“I see you and I see me.”
“Take a closer look, lass,” he urged. “Now tell me what you really see.”
“I see a very attractive young woman who just happens to be me,” she answered
“Good. And how do you feel about what you see?”
“Actually, I love what I see,” she said, feeling a little nervous, her upper body heaving slightly with every breath she took.
“Okay, I want you to walk around this mirror a couple of times and each time I want you to pause, strike a subtle pose, and just look at your image. I’ll tell you when to stop. Now begin!”
As instructed, she began to sashay around the tall mirror in a circular pattern.
“Hey-hey-heeey! Hold it right there!” he bellowed.
Irene stopped mid-turn, causing her hair to slide like a curtain of silk across her back. “What did I do wrong?”
“This is not some sleazy burlesque show, I say. Think of yourself as a royal princess, not a streetwalker. Now, let’s try it again, this time do it with class. Think promenade.”
Once again, she circled the mirror but this time with a lot more class, pausing whenever she saw her image. On her fourth pass, she watched as he grabbed a step stool and positioned it a few feet from the front of the mirror. He then instructed her to stop.”
“Now, I want you to stand with your left side facing the mirror, your face looking straight ahead.”
Uncertain as to why he wanted her to do these things, she complied anyway. There had to be meaning to his madness, she told herself. After all, he was the philosopher; one virtuous, just and knowledgeable.
“Now, I want you to place your left foot on this step stool.”
Irene complied.
“Okay, relax…and without moving your body, turn your head to the left and gaze upon your image in the mirror.”
Irene complied, adjusting her pose.
“Now, I am going to ask you a few questions and I want you to be frank and honest with me, okay?”
“I will, professor.”
“When you walked around the mirror, how did you feel inside?”
“I-I felt very sexy, to be honest.”
“And in what way, Irene?”
“Well, I felt different. I felt a certain power and confidence and sensuality and in a way I had not before. And I loved the sensation of my nylon covered thighs rubbing against each other as I walked. Again, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced before.”
“Is today the first time you wore nylon?”
“Yes, I am embarrassed to admit.”
“No need to feel embarrassed,” he said in a reassuring voice. “Knowledge, as well as experience, is an ongoing evolution. Now, lift your gown up slowly over your left side until I tell you to stop.”
Irene swallowed and began to raise the hem of her gown up towards her knee.
“Continue please, Irene,” he insisted, as he kept his gaze on her.
Slowly she raised the hemline until it passed up and over the summit of her knee.
“Keep going, Irene. Keep going.”
She continued to pull her gown over the top of her shapely thigh until he finally told her to stop. At this point, her blue nylon-clad leg, right up to the halfway point of her thigh, was exposed and part of the garter strap, as well.
“Now, tell me what you see, Irene.”
“I see me, and I see that these stockings look pretty darn good on me.”
“Look a little harder, Irene…and tell me what you really see,” he said in a commanding voice.
After a moment of reflecting, she said, “I see a very sexy looking woman, which just happens to be me.”
“Are you certain that’s you there?” he asked as he walked up to her and titled her head slightly.
“Without a doubt.”
“Was this you a few days ago?”
“I would have to say that this was a side of me I had not been acquainted with.”
“But you like what you see and how you feel now?”
“Surprisingly, I love what I see and how I feel. I never knew that I had this in me.”
“Okay, you can tidy yourself, now.”
Irene stole one last look in the mirror at herself before straightening out her gown.
“You may have a seat at the table, now.”
Walking over, she took a seat at the table, and to his left. The professor sat down at the head of the table. A lit candle burned brightly in the middle.
“Go on and help yourself. Your choices are inside of the covered dishes.”
Without hesitation, she reached over and removed the stainless steel coverings and lifted a healthy serving of food from each bowl, along with a delicious looking oven-roasted pheasant thigh. She was hungry and beyond words. After all, he had instructed her not to eat anything before
coming there. Compliant, she had not eaten since noon.
With a full plate before her, she blessed the table and began to eat.
“Now, as you enjoy your meal, I am going to converse with you but you will not be required to speak while you are dining, however, I want you to take to heart what I am going to tell you, okay?”
Irene nodded demurely. “Okay.”
“Very well, then. The music I play is a coming together of various parts to make a complete whole. If you understand this, nod your head once.”
Irene nodded again, this time as she chewed on the well-seasoned pheasant thigh.
“Now, when all of the parts come together and in harmony, the resulting sounds you hear are melodic and dynamic and on occasions…mesmerizing. Now, if any, or all, of the parts are not working in harmony or I hit the wrong cords, the sound you hear will be nothing short of dissonance. It ceases to be melodic or pleasing to the ears. Do you follow me?”
“Yes, I follow you,” she said taking a sip of juice.
“People and their personalities are very much like an organ or piano. We have many parts, many sides, to our personalities. We all have, to some degree or another, a social side to us, a spiritual side, an intellectual side, a problem-solving side, a creative side, an artistic side, a humane side, a playful side, a sexual side, and a moral side to us. When all of these parts are working together in harmony and for the common good of the individual and all mankind, we have reached a point we can honestly be who we really are and feel comfortable about it. Understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” she quipped, as she placed another serving of Chicken & Broccoli Alfredo in her spoon and then into her mouth.
“Deny yourself, or neglect, any one of these parts, and you introduce stress and conflict in the overall system. When you do this, you are no longer functioning as a whole and complete being. If anything, you are one thing to one person and someone else to another person. In effect, you are neither here or there. Got that?”
“Got it!” Irene replied, with an accompanied nodding of her head.
“You see, many people, especially women, are hung up on their sexuality. And since this is our topic for this evening, I will elaborate. The reasons why people are hung up about their sexuality are many, but the major culprits are sexual abuse, medical issues, religious beliefs and upbringing, psychological hang ups, and self-doubt, or more directly, a lack of confidence in one’s sexual abilities. Are you still following me?”
“Yes, and I must admit that I was brought up believing that feeling or dressing or acting sexy was something of the Devil. But I have to admit, I felt more like a woman than anything else, and at any other time in my life, when I put on my undergarments. I did not feel bad nor did I associate it with evil. Quite the contrary. I mean, I would never have even thought about talking about a subject such as sexuality and with a man, at that, before today,” Irene said, setting her fork down on the cloth napkin.
“Opinions and belief based notions often times corrupt or, at best, distort that which is baptized in innocence. As a philosopher, I interact and postulate at the level of pure knowledge. In other words, my thoughts and responses are fact-based, not opinion-based. To illustrate my point, I note that you were dressed nicely and in formal attire. Yet, you were able to enjoy your God given sexuality and without flaunting it, as some women do by dressing overly provocative in public. Such women are not discreet or virtuous nor do they have high moral standards. What you are wearing beneath your gown is sexy fashion-wise but also quite discreet. It cannot be seen by outsiders, including myself, had I not asked you to raise your hemline and you actually agreed to do so. That’s my point. What’s inside, and often how you feel inside, is much more important than what others see in you externally. And who you let inside is just as important.”
“But what purpose does it serve a woman to hide one’s sexuality, although I must emphasize that I am not advocating women to flaunt it?”
“Hiding one’s sexuality is not the point, Irene. Nor is it the ultimate aim,” he snapped back as he drew in close. “The point I am making is that which pertains to being true and honest about one’s self, one’s good taste, and one’s discreetness. You can relish in your sexuality and in good taste and with a generous amount of discretion, is the point. But few women ever step up to the plate because sexuality has taken a beating by well-intentioned moralists and people who have an anti-femininity agenda. And it doesn’t help matters that the subject has been further degraded by those who flaunt their sexuality but know not, nor understand, the nature of its power and influence and trappings.”
“So, is it possible to be both sexy and virtuous?”
“It is only natural, Irene. We are sexual creatures. To deny one’s sexuality is to deny the Creator. But to abuse it is to corrupt it and diminish its role and importance and its place in our personal interactions. Now, having said that, as with all forces of nature, we must always seek virtue in what we do and how we go about doing what we do. Because, a woman’s sexual feelings are a personal endeavor, it should remain at a personal level and experienced at a personal level in thought and fashion until she is ready to share herself with her mate, and hopefully, that mate is her husband. In other words, she can allow herself to feel sexual, and quite comfortably, and without being sexually active.”
“I see,” Irene said, taking another sip of her drink. “My sexuality, much like many of my other traits, is but one part of my personality and a part I should not shy away from nor feel guilty about or ashamed of, right?’
“Correct! For to be in harmony with one’s self, you have to give each one of your personality traits their time to bask in the sun. Deny anyone of them and you create inner turmoil. Focus on one, at the expense of the others, and you have what is better known as internal-conflict. That is when our beliefs and opinions are at war with what is natural. Believe me, many women, including married women, have sexual hang ups on account of the reasons I’ve presented to you.”
“I see, and I truly understand, and it all makes sense,” she professed.
“The more opportunity you have to see what was once blind to you, the more your knowledge, and hopefully your understanding, increases. Seek the path of truth and knowledge and it will always lead you to virtue. In the world I live in, virtue leads one to a just cause and a just life. To seek the path of knowledge without seeking truth and virtue will lead one down the perilous road to corruption and damnation. Remember that always, Irene.”
“I will,” Irene said tossing him a prolong gaze.
“And always carry yourself in a manner people will respect you and look up to you.”
“Wiser words could not have been spoken by another,” Irene proclaimed softly.
“You might be right about that,” he said leaning back in his chair. “From what I read, hear, and see around me, wisdom is losing ground to foolishness and perverse notions. It will not be long, I warn, before men stop being men and women ceased being women.”
“Could you amplify exactly what you mean by that, professor?”
“Know that it is a sign of the times, and only a matter of time, when all great nations fall as a consequence of the whims and notions of the absurd and the abstruse. The symptoms are often most evident in that nation’s sudden and moral decline.”
“I understand that part, professor, but what do you mean by your statement that men will stop being men and women will cease being women?”
“When men of great moral compass and great strength and masculinity; men who are raised to be responsible and fearless and ferocious protectors of their families and communities, become less than what these attributes represent…this is what I am alluding to when I speak of the decline of masculinity and civilization. When women can no longer be looked upon as being virtuous and good-natured and kindhearted and they begin to shy away from their natural roles as nurturers and healers and protectors of the body, soul, and heart and family, and begin to deny, or even hide, their fe
mininity, which is the essence of true womanliness, that is what I mean when I say women will ceased to be women. When men and woman become more interested in themselves and not others, narcissism sets in and keep in mind that narcissism serves not the good or the whole of humanity but self. When men are no longer interested in women and women are no longer interested in men, or feel no need to be, at that point, the fabric of that society can no longer be sustained.”
“Without question, you have a natural gift for clarity, professor, if I might say.”
“Clarity is like the spectacles one wears when their vision is less than desirable, that’s all.”
“Speaking of desirable, may I ask you at what lengths, for those women still interested in men, should that woman venture in her efforts to keep her man’s focus on her?” After what she had just put on display for the good professor, she felt quite comfortable in sharing her most intimate thoughts with him now, much like what one would find in a patient and physician type relationship.
The professor did not hesitate. “She should be willing to do as much, and even more, than the woman who would conspire to steal him away from her would do for him. And that goes for the man, as well, when it comes to his wife, all things being equal.”
“So, if he wants me to do something that I am not accustomed to doing, say for instance, wearing revealing fashions, even at home, or on special occasions, or cooking for him or sewing for him when he asks me to, even when I don’t feel like doing it, should I?”
“In all things, maintain balance within your relationship. If he is a man who mows the lawn in the hot sun a couple of hours a day in the dead of summer and repair things around the house, including the car, when things break down, and helps around the house in maintaining its upkeep and safety, and these are things you do not participate in, or only occasionally, then by all means, do for that man for he is a just and responsible man. Now, let’s venture a little further by saying that if he is a man, who respects you, never abuses you physically, verbally, emotionally, or mentally, and is there for you, even when he would prefer to be doing something else, then definitely go the extra mile for him because this is a man worth holding onto. Fail to do these things and over a period of time, and he will seek fulfillment and appreciation elsewhere.”
A Gothic Lesson in Love Page 9
