Recovering a Marriage With a Strip Tease

Anya’s heart hammered as she stepped out of the little bathroom. Her wife’s back was to her as she sat at the computer, typing up some new email for work. This was a horrible idea. Anya’s hands shook but she cleared her throat.

“Hm?” Elise turned; her eyes widened and she gasped.

A smile pulled cautiously over Anya’s lips as she leaned against the doorway, the silky robe’s sleeve slipping down along her arm. Beneath she had on a brand new corset, stockings that clipped to silky, black thongs, and a pair of leather high heeled boots that hugged her calves.

“What are you-”

“Shh,” Anya interrupted putting a finger to her red painted lips. “Just watch me.” Her voice was a rough whisper. “Eyes on me, nothing else.”

The confidence Anya hoped she was portraying felt fake, but she wanted this. She needed this or she might lose Elise. Her wife’s eyes, wide and honey brown, stayed on her above a dropped jaw.

Anya stepped out on the carpet feeling her ankles try to give with the heels sinking in the softness. With a tap of her finger on the phone in her hand, a smokey jazz singer poured from the iSpeakers in the corner.

Standing in the soft light of the computer’s glowing screen, Anya swayed to the music and dropped a shoulder so that the robe began to slip down, exposing her pale skin. She grabbed the front of the robe and drew it further down her shoulders, dragging it closed across the swell of her breasts, pushed up with the corset and housing a heart that hammered like the beat of a rock song.

When she slid the fabric over the material of the corset and pushed her breasts up further, her hands shook. Anya kept her eyes on Elise’s though, her shocked and frozen form giving Anya strength to keep going.

Elise wasn’t turning back to her emails.

Anya bit her lip and pressed her knees together, sinking down in a sideways wave of her body as the saxophone sang out in the background. She dropped the silken gown even further, and as she stood, it fluttered down her dropped arms to pool at her feet. Carefully, she stepped from it and drew up to the chair, to Elise. Anya put her hands on the armrests and pressed a kiss to that gaping mouth, leaving behind a trial of red lipstick. She dragged her chest upward so that it pressed into Elise’s face and the rest of her body followed until she was half on the chair undulating in Elise’s lap.

Her wife grabbed at her hips. “Anya, this is…”

When Elise shook her head, Anya faltered. No, they needed this. Anya wanted Elise so badly that she would not let this fail.

Stepping back down, Anya just smiled. “I want you, Elise.”

She ran a hand down the corset, arching her back into the touch and tossing her head back. “Don’t you want me, too?”

Her fingers played at the edges of the thong and she dragged them down just a touch, enough to show off the freshly shaved, soft flesh there before she pulled them back up. Elise gasped and Anya felt warmth blossom beneath her chest. With a smile still on her lips, she turned and spread her legs, bending down to the ground so that her warm, private center and rounded ass were on display in that empowering thong. Another gasp and Anya whispered a thank you to the universe. She had her wife in her hands now.

“Yes,” Elise whispered. “I want you, Anya.”

Anya chuckled and stayed bent over, sticking her thumbs into the sides of the underwear. She slowly tugged one side down, then the other, a back and forth drag as she shifted her weight from foot to foot. She could feel her calf muscles straining beneath the leather of the boots.

And then hands were on her hips, drawing her back upright as the panties fell to her knees. Those hands wrapped around and cupped her breasts through the corset and Elise put her lips to Anya’s neck. It was Anya’s turn to gasp.

“Let me help you with that,” Elise hummed and she slid her hands down Anya’s body, tugging the panties down the rest of the way.

They fell into the bed together, clothes half off and hands desperately re-seeking what had been lost for far too long.

Yes, Love

There's a thrum on the pads of my fingers as I grip the steering wheel beneath whitened knuckles. The sun is shining down through the glass of the large windshield. Its rays heat the small space, but its warmth is nothing compared to the fingers trailing on the revealed skin of my leg, below the cut-off shorts. Light, dancing feminine fingers on smooth, long feminine legs– it's perfect, really. Those fingers run along my skin, following some map they know, and chasing shivers as though they had belonged there all along. Certainly they were missing from me and I'm glad to have them now.

The radio is pouring out 90's pop and rock. I try to pretend my attention is on the lyrics as I belt out each note, right along with you. I think I'm being pretty sly, evasive even, keeping my feelings about your wonderful fingers hidden beneath song. I push my leg into your fingertips, just enough to usher you to keep going, but not enough that I may seem eager, or too wanting... I hope. There's a delicate balance here, a sharp focus I must keep to play out this tango. Because I know how it ends. Simply that, it ends. It always ends– but I'll have this moment.

I will remember this warm car ride, your hand there on my skin, and our voices rising together along with the radio. I glance down, trying to lighten my grip on the steering wheel, and something changes all at once. My eyes meet those long, delicate fingers and I realize... I don't want it to end. Snapping my eyes back to the road, I reach down, still singing, and run my fingertips over the back of your hand. I feel you pause in your tracings, and hope that I have you now.

My hand stretches, slowly across cool skin. It engulfs yours, my hand not so feminine for a woman's, but that doesn't matter. As our fingers entangle and I grip you tight, it's all I need. Your voice stutters and I can suddenly feel those dark alluring eyes of yours on me. It's all fine. There won't be an end today and I smile. You sing again and my smile remains.

The Violence They Cause

“They.”
“What?” The barista stared across the counter at Jack, seeming like she’d misheard him.

“They prefer they/them pronouns, please.” He watched the young woman’s eyes scan his partner over, clearly trying to come to a conclusion on the sex of Jack’s partner. He grit his teeth as he watched the matter being tackled in the barista’s mind.

“Uh, here is their macchiato.” She pushed the cup forward slowly, still staring.

Jack felt a hand on his arm and he glanced across, finding himself diving into jeweled blue eyes. “Mm?”

“Don’t worry about it, Jacks, I don’t mind that much.”

Growling under his breath, Jack grabbed their drink and handed it over. “Yeah, well, I know it does bother you and people just have to learn that not everything is black and white.”

They laughed and shook their head, pulling Jack away from the counter. “Let’s sit outside.”

“Mm.” He nodded and followed, pulling the door open and letting his partner out first. They claimed a bench outside of the cafe and settled close to one another. They hadn’t taken their hand off of Jack’s arm yet, and he refused to pull it back from them.

Jack watched them take a sip of the hot drink then smile widely at the taste. They could always make Jack happy, and he planned to stay with them for a long time.

“You shouldn’t get so angry with people.”

“People shouldn’t have such a hard fucking time with it. It’s a word, not the end of the world.” He sipped at his own coffee, staring hard at the cars passing by.

When he felt his partner rub their chin against his shoulder, he looked over and broke. Those damned eyes could melt Antarctica with a glance, so his heart didn’t stand a chance. “Thank you for caring about me that much.”

“Mm.” He placed his lips on their cheek and planted a kiss there. Turning slightly, he let his head rest against theirs, and wrapped an arm around them. “Of course I do.”

They quietly cuddled on the bench for a while, watching others pass by, in their own worlds. Jack’s partner wasn’t content with how they ended the conversation, though. “Maybe there are certain times we should stick up about it and other times just let it go?”

Jack pulled back so that he could properly look at his partner. “I thought that, too, once. I used to think the random waiter or salesperson didn’t need to pander to our lifestyle but that changed.”

They gazed back, curiosity making the blue swirl in their eyes. “What changed?”

“You told me what it does to you when someone calls you he or she. I keep thinking that every time they misgender you, you feel a physical pain in your chest and your mind reels trying to grasp at something that isn’t real. I can’t imagine how you smile back at them like everything is fine.” Jack shook his head, setting his now nearly empty cup down on the ground then taking his partner’s free hand. “I correct them because I wouldn’t allow someone to walk up and slap you so why would I allow them to emotionally hurt you?”

“I love you,” they said and leaned in to kiss Jack.

He met them halfway.

Not Me

His heart thudded in his chest as he lifted a shaky hand to his lips, staring into his own eyes through the mirror. They had tears brimming in the corners, but he still put the tube of lipstick across his lips, highlighting them in bright red. It was applied perfectly, after years of forced practice. He hated that he was so good at this when he’d prefer to be chipping his nails and getting bruised up playing paintball. He wouldn't allow the tears to fall, though. He wouldn’t give his mother the satisfaction of seeing him break down.

Stepping from the bathroom into the family room, he stood before his mother in a plain, conservative dress and perfectly applied makeup. She smiled and he died.

“You look beautiful, Anna.” His mother used the name that made him feel inadequate. Then, she wrapped her arms around him and pressed against him, his own developed chest unbound and crushed against hers.

“Tha…” He couldn’t finish saying that; it hurt his throat too much.

“Let’s go get some dinner. Come now, smile! It’s your birthday.”

It was a day he least felt like smiling.