I.

"Being married takes some getting used to. It's hard to live with a man sometimes…well, it's hard to live with Fred all the time!" Ethel joked as she wiped the dishes that Lucy had washed from breakfast.

Lucy shrugged. It was difficult to admit, but Ethel had a point. She had been married to Ricky for just over a month and although they were happy newlyweds in love, there had been some growing pains. Ricky was, just as a matter of fact, from a different cultural background than she was. Each had some ideas and expectations that were foreign to the other.

It was true that one of the things Ricky loved most about his new bride was her free spirit and sense of adventure. She always wanted to be doing something. And although she enjoyed being married and wanted to take care of her husband, she wasn't content to be a submissive wife who did nothing but cater to his needs. To a point, this was fine with him. He had never been deceived into thinking Lucy was someone she was not; she clearly had a mind of her own and was quick to express it when needed. She was completely different than any woman he'd ever known.

But even though Ricky had fallen in love with and married her because of her differences, part of him had expected that his wife would in some ways conform to some of the notions he had seen all his life. She clearly loved him, but did not regard him as the master of their home or her life. She wanted an equal hand in everything they had and decided upon, something unheard of where Ricky came from. And when, in his mind, he felt he was giving his wife an undisputable order, she was nonchalant. There was no "order" to which Lucy would comply.

For all his traditional ideas, Ricky was, himself, different. A wife in Cuba who so openly defied her husband might be subject to some form of physical punishment. At the very least, her husband might embarrass her with a very public display of verbal slurs. The man would very definitely have affairs and in retaliation for his wife's defiance, they would be very public ones at that. Ricky expected that Lucy would count herself lucky that she had married a man who didn't subscribe to any of those beliefs or methods. But since she didn't believe any husband could be such a man in the first place, the idea of being lucky for it was lost on her.

And so it was that they each found themselves learning about making compromises with the other.

Lucy blinked, having become lost in her own thoughts, when Ethel nudged her. "Hey, are you listening to me?"

Lucy nodded. "Yes, I am! I was just thinking about Ricky."

Ethel grinned. "Now, you take my advice and don't give him an inch. If you give a husband the upper hand, they'll never let you forget it!

Lucy began putting the clean, dry dishes away in the cabinet. "I don't think Ricky wants the upper hand, necessarily. He just wants to feel like he's in charge…"

Ethel chuckled. "All men want the upper hand. It's our job to have it instead." She trailed off when Ricky entered the kitchen.

He smiled. "Oh, hi, Ethel."

"Hi, Ricky," she said sweetly. "I better make sure Fred called that furnace man." She winked at Lucy as she headed out the kitchen door.

Ricky looked at Lucy and put his hands in his pockets. "What are you doin' today?"

Lucy leaned against the sink and folded her arms. "I was thinking of going shopping."

Rick raised an eyebrow, pulling a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. "You just went shoppin' last week," he stated, pulling a cigarette from the pack with his lips and lighting it.

She nodded in agreement. "I did, but there's a sale at Macy's."

He rolled his eyes. "Honey, I could have a Macy's sale out of your closet…"

Lucy frowned. "I don't necessarily want to buy anything, I just…"

Ricky chuckled. "Yeah, right. Listen, Lucy, I'm not made of money."

She grew indignant. "I know you're not made of money! I bought a dress for twenty dollars last week, you make it seem like it was one hundred, for goodness sake."

"I should forbid you from goin' shoppin' at all," Ricky said sternly as he exhaled a drag from his cigarette.

Her eyes flashed. "Forbid me? Try it!"

"Alright!" Ricky straightened. "I forbid you from goin' shoppin'! How's that?"

He walked out to the living room, not wanting to give Lucy an opportunity to respond because he knew that forbidding her from doing anything was like bathing a cat.

She followed him out to the room, but didn't say anything to him. She stood by the kitchen door, arms still crossed.

With a jacket slung over his arm, Ricky pointed in his wife's direction. "No shoppin'." He looked at her a moment before walking out the door. She didn't speak to him, responding only with a steely eyed expression of defiance.

As he left, a very small smile crept across his face. He wanted her to obey him, but that the same time, it excited him that he knew she wouldn't.

II.

Ricky arrived home from rehearsal later that evening. With no performance scheduled for that night, he hoped to relax in anticipation of a hectic few days ahead.

When he walked into the apartment, he was met with quiet. He looked in the kitchen and, not finding his wife, he wandered into the bedroom. "Lucy, I'm home," he called.

"I'm here," Lucy called back, walking out of the closet.

Ricky smiled and approached her, kissing her softly.

Lucy smiled back at him.

He tilted his head. The look in her eyes was almost challenging. "What did you do today?"

She stood tall and confident, looking directly into his large, round eyes. "I went shopping."

Ricky put his hands on his hips. He was almost glad that she had defied his order. "Din't I forbid you from goin' shoppin'?"

Lucy leaned against the wall, a smirk turning up the corners of her cherry lips. "You did. But I went anyway."

He walked closer to her. "When are you gonna start doin' what I tell you to do?"

She looked away from him. "When are you going to stop telling me what to do?"

Ricky moved quickly and removed the leather belt from around his waist, snapping it against his hand with a cracking sound. "You know, in Cuba, you'd get a good whippin' for somethin' like that."

Lucy jumped, looking at the belt in her husband's hand. He would never really hit her, would he? No, she knew Ricky better than that. She looked at him squarely in the eyes again. "It's a good thing we're not in Cuba."

Ricky smiled broadly, the fact that she hadn't been frightened of him gave him a rush. He dropped the belt to the floor and grabbed Lucy by the arm, pulling her toward him. "Lucy, I'm the man of this house."

As independent and strong willed as Lucy was, it was attractive to her that Ricky was so dominant. Her eyes seared into his. "Prove it."

Ricky's mind went crazy and his eyes darkened. He shoved her onto the nearby bed and hovered over her. "Prove it? I'll prove it," he growled as he ripped the cotton blouse away from her body, dropping the shreds of fabric to the floor.

Lucy stifled a smile as he continued his rampage against her, tearing the black leggings away from her soon after. His hands pawed over her breasts and her hips, making history of the lacy bra and panties that once covered her.

She gasped as he freed his own erection with a quickness and leaned over her, putting a hand gently against her neck and bringing his lips close to her ear. His open shirt brushed her bare nipples.

Lucy whimpered as he hissed into her ear. "Cuando me desafias, quiero aun mas. I'm gonna show you right now who the man is."

With that, Ricky pulled her hips toward him and began his forceful penetrations. She cried out as he entered her relentlessly, his hands continuing their invasion over her skin, leaving goose bumps against every surface and fingerprints on the curves of her breasts.

She strained to accept him fully, moving with him rhythmically and begging him for more, even as he repeatedly and mercilessly pushed the length of himself into her.

Finally, he groaned, his voice as deep as that of a hungry wolf, releasing the product of his passion into her. She struggled to catch her breath as he surged into her and she throbbed with her own climax.

Ricky breathed gently, still on top of her, and looked into her eyes, this time more softly than before.

Lucy returned his gaze, her breasts rising with her breaths, her nipples grazing his chest above her. "I didn't buy anything today, Ricky," she whispered.

He smiled, leaving sweet kisses against her cheek and around her ear and remembering the remnants of clothes which now lay strewn on the floor. "Go to Macy's tomorrow and get a new outfit, sweetheart."