A/N- hope you had a great week! Read, review and enjoy!
Steve and I went to the Chute that night, and I wore my sequined dress with my black winter booties.
"When I tell you to wear a coat, I'm not kidding," Steve complained as I was shivering beside him as we trekked up to the entrance (there was no line!) for the bouncer to let us in. I hadn't been out of the Uber for long, but the cold bit into my clothes immediately. Steve had shed his leather bomber jacket and wrapped me up in it to protect me.
"I wasn't going to pay coat check, that's a ripoff!" I cried through chattering teeth as we got inside. "I didn't even bring a purse!"
"Like I wouldn't watch your things."
"I'd never subject you to holding my purse," I smirked as went further in to try to find Nia, who was at the bar, chatting with some of the dancers.
She squealed and ran up to hug me. "You look so cute!" she shrieked. "Where did you get the dress? And is this him?"
Steve laughed, embarrassed. "This is Steve, and yes," I said. "This is my boyfriend."
"How do you do?" Steve asked, politely.
Nia giggled in his direction. "Oh my, you are really something! Are the two of you going to come out with me on the dance floor?"
"You know I'm game," I said, eyes light up.
"She's the dancer, not me," Steve said. "I'm going to make friends with the bartender."
"Alright," Nia said.
We went out onto the dance floor and started dancing to Would I Lie To You? by the Eurythmics. I loved when Nia and I got to dance together, she had some moves, and I felt free to let it all out. We danced for about four more songs before we took a break. "You have tell me about him," she said as we went to the unisex bathroom. It was mostly empty. This was how I had gotten past my fear of peeing where men could hear it.
"He's from New York, his parents were Irish immigrants, he's in the Army, and he's the best boyfriend I've ever had," I said.
"Girl, my gaydar's going off. He's not like your boyfriend boyfriend, more like a gay boyfriend?"
"No," I laughed, coming out of the stall to wash my hands. "He wasn't gay last night. Or this morning!"
She burst out laughing. "Girl, you move fast!"
"Oh please, I met him here at this club months ago!" I cried.
"No you didn't!" she shrieked.
"Yes, I did," I said. "You remember when we were dancing in those cages in October and Larry kicked us out? I tripped on the way out and fell into his arms."
"That is too cute, but I really mean too cute. Not in a good way."
"Why's that?"
"You met him in a gay bar! What was he doing in a gay bar ?"
"Hey, I'm straight and I come to gay bars. He just came with his friends that night to get a break from cougars groping his ass, which is quite fun to grab onto, might I add."
"Well, if you say so," she replied. "You've kissed girls before!"
I blushed. "I was only curious," I said. I had indeed been curious: while I was still a virgin when I was in college, and I wanted to figure out if I was more attracted to girls than guys, so gave kissing a girl a try. But I hadn't felt anything when a pretty girl had kissed me at a bar while we were playing spin the bottle in the loft at Hanna's Cafe in Knoxville. "I don't think threesomes are in our immediate future."
"Well, that could be fun," Nia admitted. "Two guys at once."
"I can't even imagine that," I muttered.
Nia and I checked on Steve, and he was enjoying a whiskey and talking to a drag queen.
He's so polite and friendly, I thought. I was so proud of my perfect gentleman. Who knew you had to go back to the forties to find them?
"Hey, Dani," he said. "You're having a good time?"
"I'm having a great time," I said.
He squeezed my elbow, pulling me close.
"I'm about to go on," the drag queen said. She was tiny and delicate, and her voice was so high-pitched and her accent so British, she had to pass. She reminded me of Courtney Act from RuPaul's Drag Race. "I hope all of you stay to see me perform."
"Of course," Steve said. "Dani, this is Sheila. Sheila, this is my girlfriend, Danielle."
"Hi, it's nice to meet you," I said.
"And, I know Nia!" Sheila cooed, Nia rushed into her arms and they air-kissed each other's cheeks. "You were really working it out there, girly!"
"Always," Nia said, beaming, tossing her locks of hair over her shoulders.
"Well, I have to be going, it's almost call time!"
"See you on stage!" Nia called.
She sauntered off.
"Are you sure you don't want to dance with us?" Nia asked Steve.
"Oh, I'm sure. I'll make a fool of myself," he replied. "But I definitely want to stay for Sheila's performance. I hope you don't mind that I was talking to her."
"Oh no," I said, grinning. "I don't mind."
"Go dance," he said, shooing me away. Kylie Minogue's A Million Miles came on, and Nia and I ran out to the dance floor to shake our asses like it was our job.
Nia and I danced to a few more songs before the lights went out and Sheila LaBien was announced. The spotlight came on and Sheila was standing in the middle of the stage in a holographic silver leotard, sequin leg warmers, and new a space-age-looking wig, dead serious and she started dancing and lipsyncing to Sexy! No, No, No! by Girls Aloud. I loved this about Drag.
By the time she had lip-synched and danced to three different songs, she took a break.
I went back to the bar to find Steve, who had my white wine spritzer waiting for me. "This was a great way to start out the New Year," I admitted, downing the last of my spritzer. "But I am exhausted. Can we go home, now?"
"Here," he said, getting a five out of his wallet. "Go tip Sheila, and I'll close out the bar tab and call the Uber."
I put the money into the giant Courvoisier tipping glass by the stage, and the stage manager nodded towards me. I promised to visit Nia in Brooklyn when I went up to see Steve and we hugged goodbye. Steve wrapped his bomber jacket around me as we went out the door, and I waved to Nia, blowing her a kiss.
"I think we definitely need to have dinner with Nia when you come up to visit me. Do you mind if I call her and show her around the city and take her out for a meal when she moves up to New York?"
"That is really sweet of you to offer, I don't mind at all. So how was your second Drag Show at the Chute?"
"It feels like I'm at a show on Broadway, but kind of like I'm being cheated."
"Cheated? How?"
"They're not actually singing," he said.
"Well, traditionally, Drag Queens don't sing," I said.
"I wonder if Sheila could sing at all," he pondered.
"Trust me, even if she did, she wouldn't do it here."
"Are you jealous?"
"Jealous?" I repeated. "Because she's on stage and performing? And I don't perform anymore?"
"You don't have anything to worry about. Look, she was really pretty, but from a distance. She wore way too much makeup up close for my tastes. And besides, most women in gay bars are probably lesbians anyway."
"Um, Steve-"
"Don't be jealous, we were just talking. I like you. You look so natural and pretty, you don't need make-up-"
"I am wearing make-up-"
"But you can hardly tell. She looked like a clown, and for me-"
"Steve, that wasn't a woman."
"You're joking!"
"No. Honey… She was a he. Drag is an art form-"
"You could have told me!" he said loudly and a little too seriously. I realized he was pulling my chain. He burst out laughing. I realized I had underestimated him and his pop culture knowledge, and in my embarrassment, I mimed shaking a fist at him but didn't swing.
"That wasn't funny, Steven!" I cried, trying not to laugh in embarrassment. "I'm gonna kill you!"
"We had drag queens back in the forties, don't act so surprised," he chided. "And besides, she had an Adam's Apple. Dead giveaway! I'm not that naive when it comes to the 21st century, Danielle!"
"Okay, I'm sorry. You… might be smarter than I give you credit for," I said slowly and reluctantly.
"After all you said about gender roles and toxic masculinity, you can't admit that you're wrong," Steve snorted.
"And somebody's going to be sleeping on the floor if he doesn't shut up."
We ran out the door once Steve got the notification that our Uber was here. I slipped my arms around his middle and buried my face into his chest. Steve's free hand rubbed my back.
I loved being close to him. He was perfect.
We pretty much ran back to my apartment complex in the cold, the walkways cleared and salted. The perfect layer of snow in the courtyard was now grubby and grey with foot and dogprint tracks all in it. Someone had built a snowman, but it was looking pretty pathetic by now.
"Am I still sleeping on the floor?" he asked as I fumbled with my keys.
"No," I said through chattering teeth, even though I was wearing his jacket.
"Hurry up, I'm freezing!"
The deadbolt lock finally clicked and the door swung open. His arms encircled me and he gently shoved me through the door with his torso. I twisted my own torso around to kiss him and turned my hips around to face him as he shoved the door shut behind us.
"I've got you all to myself at least," he murmured between kisses, his eyelids hooded as I glimpsed him. His jacket slipped off my shoulders and fell to the floor, then I felt him unzipping my dress from the back, but his fingers lost the zipper tag. I giggled as he struggled to get my zipper, and an annoyed look ran across his face. "I was trying to be smooth," he admitted.
"You're perfect to me," I said, grinning, catching his mouth in another kiss. His hand snaked up my neck to cradle my head as we kissed some more and he guided me backward until the back of my knees encountered the mattress. He lowered me down onto the bed, gazing down at me with nothing but affection and care. He pulled his sweater up over his head, pulling his white t-shirt off, exposing his perfect torso.
I reached behind myself and unzipped my dress so I could pull the sleeves and bodice down, exposing my bra. "Come here," I said as he unbuttoned his khakis, scooting myself back on the bed, my dress sliding down my legs, leaving me in my lingerie and a set of thigh-highs.
Steve climbed onto the bed next to me, and took me into his arms, kissing me. "Just one more night," he said.
"Alright," I replied.
We kissed some more, and his free hand drifted up to my breast, grazing my bra cup. "I didn't ask," he whispered, drawing his hand away.
I took his wrist in mine, and gently held it to my bra cup. "I'll give you a pass this time," I teased. We kept on kissing, but I tried to unhook my own bra, wriggling and twisting around. "I've got it," I insisted when he pulled away. "I got it." I whipped my bra off, even in the cool room, my skin was getting chill bumps, and my nipples hardening. "You can touch me," I said softly.
His hands slid up my ribs back to my breasts, and his eyes fluttered closed, head leaning back, lip slightly apart. My breasts tingled at the contact. "Steve," I whispered.
"Too much?" he asked, his thumbs grazing my nipples, that hardened at the touch, eyes opening.
"No, perfect," I mumbled, running hands over his.
In his arms, I didn't feel so insecure about my body. The way he looked at me felt like I wasn't wrong, I didn't need work, I could just be myself.
I wanted to tell him I loved him. This would have been a perfect moment for it, but then again… it was too soon. It didn't feel right.
He rubbed my nipples a little harder with his thumbs, his grip hardening a little. I arched into him.
He slipped an arm around me and pulled me up against him. We kissed some more, and I felt the bulge in his shorts poking me in the leg. He pulled me up and rolled me over onto my back, on top of me, pressing sloppy kisses down my neck. "I love these moments with you," he muttered. "I don't want to leave tomorrow."
"I don't want you to, either," I admitted. "You can't stay?"
"No," he muttered. "Let's make a plan for you to come to New York," he said, getting up. "I want to take these off you." His fingers grazed the elastic tops of my thigh-highs. His finger ran under one of them, hooking it. I smirked at him.
He slid the stocking down my leg slowly. I pointed my toe in the air, and he took a moment to kiss my ankle, working the stocking off slowly. I was thankful I had shaved my legs. He kissed my knee as I lowered my foot, and went to work on the other leg.
"You are so beautiful, Dani," he said, gazing down at me as he climbed atop me. His lips met the tiny bow on the top of my panties, and I wished I could take them off. Technically, I could, but I didn't want him seeing the gross truths about feminine hygiene. I had always been strange about sex, it took a lot of warming up to get me into it. But Steve had me going so easily.
"You're driving me crazy," I muttered. He cupped my breast again and caught my nipple in his mouth. I gasped and writhed beneath him as he gently sucked. My fingers found their way into his scalp, encouraging him. "Yes," I sighed as his fingers pinched the damp, hard peak.
"Our time together is always so short," he admitted, into my breast.
"Yeah," I admitted. "I guess this is the hard part of being in a long-distance relationship. We have horrible timing, don't we?" I asked, thinking about how I wasn't able to make love with him at all tonight. He was not ready for period sex, I had to be honest.
"It's not been all bad," he said, a smirk crossing his face, his body blanketing mine.
"You're right," I admitted, slipping my hands down the small of his back, under the waistband of his shorts, tugging them south, his ass in my hands. "Lay down."
I could see the line of his perfect abs in the dark as I sat up. "I want you. This has been the best new year of my life."
"Mine too," I admitted, walking the tips of my fingers down his abs.
"I'll miss you."
"I'll miss you," I admitted as he lifted his hips and pushed his shorts off. His cock was already hot and hard. I reached over to the nightstand and got the flavored lube out, squirting some into my fingers, rubbing them together to warm it up. "Let's not be hasty. I want to go slow tonight." I cupped the base of his shaft, and I could hear how rapid his breathing was. His eyes were closed. This gave me reason to slid my hand, wrapped around it, upwards, my other hand taking its place. I wasn't that good with handjobs, according to Chad, but I was willing to give it another go. I alternated hands with the lube making it so much easier. His breathing was my measure for how to touch him, I took the tip of his cock and ran my fingers over it, swirling them around. He was getting so hard, I couldn't help it: I took it back into my mouth, using my tongue to swirl around the head. I didn't mind the taste of his precum for some reason, probably that I was so wrapped up in the moment.
"Dani," he whispered hoarsely.
"Cum for me," I whispered, popping his cock out of my mouth.
"You're so dirty," he muttered.
I took him back in, and took him in deep this time, bringing him further down my throat, listening to his groans and cries, working him up.
"Cum for me, please," I begged, pumping his slick cock a few times.
I saw his muscles contract. "Dani!" he shouted, and his cock shot out three spurs of the white liquid, partially getting it on my arm, the third one on my breast. "Danielle…" He was panting, coming down, shaking. I got some tissues from my nightstand to wipe off. "I made a mess on you," he whispered, voice hoarse.
"You're supposed to," I admitted. "I don't mind." I handed him a fresh tissue.
"Why did we take so long to start doing this?"