That was until I remembered the two layers of control top shapewear I was wearing.
“Stop,” I said in horror as I turned to face Porter.
A look of confusion replaced Porter’s previously hungry eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“I…uh… Need to…go to the bathroom.”
“Okay. I’ll be waiting right here,” he said as he eased himself onto his long, black leather sectional. I smiled and held the back of my dress together, running into his bathroom down the hall. Quickly, I took out the hairpins holding my topknot together, letting it fall into the rest of my hair, which had curled from the rain. I pulled up my dress and wiggled out of the first pair of Spanx. Huffing, I tried to get out of the second pair, but I forgot I bought it one size smaller on purpose. It wasn’t budging. I sat on the toilet to catch my breath. Sweat trickled down the side of my face as I pulled at the material sucking the life out of me. I grabbed a hand towel, wiping away beads of sweat. I looked at the crisp white hand towel and felt terrible for putting my makeup on it. For a guy, Porter kept an immaculate bathroom. It was like a hotel and the man had high-quality bath linen.
A soft knock interrupted my admiration. “Everything okay?” Porter asked softly.
“Uhm yeah…” I said, still breathing like an asthmatic.
“Are you lying?” I could hear the concern in his voice.
I leaned back and looked at myself in the mirror. What was I doing? Why was I acting like I was a woman, a grown woman, who didn’t have on shapewear? And if Porter was going to be with me, he had to deal with the real me. I stood up and slid the bathroom door open.
Porter looked at me up and down, confused. The perspiration was still on my brow.
He looked around the bathroom at the towel and Spanx on the floor. “Is something wrong? What happened here?”
I took a deep breath, resting a hand against the sink. “Listen. I have…well…had on two pairs of Spanx. And well… One is stuck to me. I wasn’t trying to get sexy with you in double-layers of Spanx.”
Porter walked into the bathroom, picking up the first pair of Spanx, gently folding them and placing them on the counter.
“Turn around,” he demanded.
I turned and faced the bathroom mirror. Porter stood behind me with a slight smirk on his face.
“Do you think this is funny?” I asked. I could feel my face getting hot with embarrassment. Jesus, this wasn’t how I wanted this night to go.
“Shh…” he admonished.
He finished unzipping my dress. I felt his index finger trace a path along my back. His fingers made the hairs on my arm stand on end. He pulled the straps of my dress off my shoulders and, as if by magic or command, my dress fell to the bathroom floor. I stood there in my strapless bra and too-tight Spanx. It was unclear if the Spanx or excitement were cutting off my circulation. Uncomfortable, I shifted my weight.
“Be still, Ari,” Porter scolded. He reached next to me and opened a drawer on his vanity. He pulled out a sleek pair of woodgrain-handled scissors. I froze.
“What are you going to do with those?” I said in a panic. I clearly didn’t want to end up on the news at 11. Woman dies as boyfriend accidentally hits an artery trying to cut her out of her Spanx.
“Shh. Be still.”
I felt Porter’s fingers tease the top of the Spanx away from my waist. The cold steel of the scissors against my skin made me jump, forgetting to stand still and not get maimed. Porter put his hand against my waist to steady me. I felt the scissors move down my hips, along my thighs as he snipped away. First, on the right side and then on the left. The shredded Spanx fell to my heels. Porter lifted my foot and removed them, tossing them in the wastebasket by his sink. The entire ordeal should have embarrassed me. But having a man armed with cold steel scissors, cutting me out of my undergarments, was the sexiest thing I had ever experienced. Porter stood behind me. His eyes still with the same hunger that he had before.
“Better?” he asked as he kissed my exposed shoulders.
“Yes,” I whispered, feeling less sheepish with each kiss.
Porter unfastened the hooks of my bra and gently cupped it in his hands. Aside from my heels, I was totally naked. Turning to face him, I loosened his tie, slowly letting it slide through my fingers and onto the floor. He watched as it floated along the tiles.
“That’s a $200 tie,” he said.
“Those were $100 Spanx,” I retorted.
“I’ll buy you more if you want me to. But honestly, you never needed it in the first place.”