Afternoons of a Woman of Leisure (9781101623565) by Elizabeth Bennett

touches her face and kisses her tenderly on both cheeks, two business associates saying good-bye, their minds already elsewhere. She catches her own scent on his fingers. When he leaves, Joanna turns in the opposite direction and walks to a nearby department store where Curtis has given her an account. Her closets at home in the suburbs are full of beautiful clothes, but she has recently found herself in desperate need of more underwear.

Chapter Seventeen
    Dr. Simon’s office is off the marbled lobby of an apartment building on the east side of the park, not far from the restaurant where Joanna first observed then later met with Pauline. It is mid-afternoon, an overcast Wednesday. Joanna’s heels click sharply over the marble as she crosses it to the heavy marble door marked with a plaque: OB-GYN. She rings the bell and waits, automatically reaching up to check the knotted hair at her nape.
    He comes to let her in, a short, thickset man with thin ash-colored hair, in his fifties, Joanna guesses. He wears a white medical jacket over his trousers and shirt, a stethoscope protruding from the breast pocket, all very official. “Please come in,” he says, his voice careful with the smooth intonation of doctors. Joanna steps inside. The reception area and waiting room are dark. “This way,” Dr. Simon beckons, stepping in front of her. She follows him to the end of the hall into an office, where they take seats on the opposite sides of the heavy desk.
    â€œI’m so grateful you could see me, Doctor,” Joanna says, clutching her purse on her lap.
    â€œNot at all,” he nods, his face grim. “That’s what I’m here for.” Behind him, a door opens and a younger man in a white coat enters. He leans awkwardly against the wall, next to Dr. Simon’s chair, and crosses his arms.
    â€œThis is Dr. Stein,” Dr. Simon is saying. “He is a medical student. I’ve asked him to observe our consultation, and later, the examination. You have no objection?”
    â€œOh, of course not,” Joanna exclaims.
    The two men watch her silently for a moment. Joanna glances around the room, shelves of books, framed prints on the walls. Several silver picture frames on the desk have, she notices, been turned face down. She suppresses a smile.
    â€œLet’s begin with some general questions,” Dr. Simon says, interrupting her thoughts. His hands are folded on the desk in front of him, an expression of slight concern on his face. “Your age?”
    â€œTwenty eight,” Joanna says.
    â€œAnd how long have you been sexually active?”
    Sexually active? Joanna thinks. “Oh,” she blushes, “not very long. I’ve had a boyfriend for about a year now.”
    â€œAnd how often do you have sex,” he asks.
    She looks up, considering. “All the time.” Joanna sighs. “At least once every month.”
    He nods, serious. “Please describe it for me. The basic pattern of it.” He pauses, taking in Joanna’s confused expression. “I’ll need to know this, in order to help you,” he says kindly.
    â€œWell,” she says carefully. “First he takes me to dinner, then usually to a movie. Then we go back to his apartment. He sits on the couch and I stand in front of him and he watches me take off my clothes.”
    â€œAll of your clothes?”
    â€œYes.” Joanna nods, blushing. “Then I turn around so that I’m facing away from him, and get down on my hands and knees. I can hear him behind me, unzipping his pants and taking out his . . . you know.”
    â€œCock,” Dr. Simon says shortly. He shifts uncomfortably on his leather chair.
    â€œYes, that. Then he gets behind me and, you know, puts it in and sort of pushes it in and out. And then a minute later he sort of hisses, like somebody punched him or something. Then that’s it.”
    The medical student unfolds his arms and