A 21st century tale
By Eve’s Rib
10: THE START OF THE AFFAIR
For the next couple of evenings, Leo and Gina were rather strained with each other. She didn’t mention the ClareCo reps or the dress again, but he knew she was biding her time — letting the temperature cool before resuming her push. After all, that executive dinner wasn’t going away.
Leo liked idling through his day. There was plenty of time to do his housework. When he was done, he would watch soaps on TV, surf the web for housework tips or read men’s magazines. The latter, increasingly modelled on those old women’s magazines you could never find any more, offered a mix of fashion, gossip and domesticity that he found unexpectedly engrossing, even if it was just so he could rage at the sight of the latest actor to don an elegant evening gown for some award ceremony. He kept thinking, however, of Men Matter, and of the compromising of his masculinity. If only he could see a way out!
One afternoon, Leo had another job interview. He was interviewed by two women; from their disinterested, even gossipy questioning it was obvious that they didn’t take his application seriously. He took the tube home, went to his local and got drunk.
When Gina got home she wasn’t impressed.
“What the hell is this about?” she demanded, and was grimly silent when he confessed to job-hunting.
“I didn’t get it,” he slurred.
“So you went out and got drunk?”
“Yeah. Because they’re against me. It’s a waste of time trying to find work because I’m discim - discriminated against. But aww, he’s a bloke so he doesn’t count.”
“I told you there’s no need for you to work. I’m earning the money now. Just deal with, for Christ’s sake! You’re like a little boy.”
“Well, maybe I want to work...”
“Damn it, always the same bloody conversation. Look, I want you to go round to Brian’s tomorrow and talk this over. See what he says about not working. Man to man.”
“Man! Brian ain’t a man. He’s —”
“I want you to go. Are you going?”
“Are you going?”
“Yes, bloody hell, yes.”
“Don’t bloody hell me.”
The mood between them had never been so rotten. She went to bed without speaking to him. When he climbed into bed himself a little later, she shrugged off his arm. He lay a long time in the dark, fuming. Fuck her. Men matter. He would go to Brian’s, all right, but not to talk. He’d convert the bastard.
Brian was surprised but not displeased when Leo rang his doorbell the next afternoon.
“Just the man,” he said. “I’m having a sort–out. Come along upstairs.”
The bedroom was untidy with opened drawers and strewn clothes. “Those are heading for Oxfam,” said Brian, indicating a couple of black plastic binliners. “My old things. I guess you can help yourself if you’re interested.”
Leo lazily pulled one bag open a little wider. “Hey, what’s this? Trousers?” He pulled out a pair of smart slacks with a crease down either leg. “There’s nowt wrong with them, mate.”
“Oh, old stuff I never wear.”
Leo sat on the poof next to Brian’s dressing table. The table was covered in lipsticks, eye-shadow, nail varnish removers, and a box of dainty tissues in pastel colours. Here was a man who needed Men Matter. He took a breath. “Brian —”
“Hang on a moment,” said Brian, getting up. “I’d like to try something.” He opened the wardrobe, rummaged, and took out a pretty evening dress, which he held up to Leo as if to check if it would fit.
“Hey, steady on, mate,” said Leo, uncomfortably wriggling from the soft material.
“I’m just looking,” said Brian. “I never see you in a frock, Leo, and I think it’s a shame. You’d look charming in this. I’ve got too fat for it, but with your figure...”
“Nah, well, you see —”
“It’s a man’s dress, not a woman’s,” said Brian, as if it made all the difference. “Take it back with you, if you don’t want to try it on here. It’s lovely wearing dresses, you know.”
“That ain’t my thing, you see, Brian.”
“Well,” sighed Brian. “If Gina’s heading the way you say she is, you may have to wise up soon. I don’t know how long you think you can stay out of skirts, but...”
“Hold on, hold on. A question.” Leo was embarrassed, but he was itching to ask.
“Tell me to piss off if you want, mate, but dressing like a woman, does it make you feel — you know, sexy? I mean, you look in the mirror and...”
“I don’t think it’s right to call it call it dressing ‘like a woman’ any more,” said Brian. “These are men’s clothes. We got them in Marks and Sparks. Anyway, between you and me, it is an erotic feeling. I think men have always been drawn to these clothes. Males are genetically programmed to want to be decorative, you know, like the peacock. You should try it. But I’ll warn you.” He paused. “Once a woman has a taste of feminising a man she can’t resist taking it further. They love it. It’s like playing dressing-up. It was weird at first. I wanted to please Kelly, but waking up in a satin nightie next to a wife in pyjamas was a bizarre experience! Or going out to the theatre, I’d find myself sitting there in a silky evening gown and Kelly would be there in her suit and tie. And yes, it was humiliating at first. But you get used to anything. We’re so used nowadays to seeing images of women in authority that it gives me a little jolt of unreality when a John Wayne film comes on. Now, frankly, to see Kelly in skirts would just be bizarre.”
Leo reflected that it was a long time since he’d seen Gina in a skirt. He’d not thought of it before. He too knew the shock of watching old films. Whenever he saw those women in long frocks taking a backseat to dynamic men in suits, he got a sense of unreality. Had it really once been like that?
“Brian, I’ve heard about this thing called Men Matter. In fact —”
“Oh, that silly thing!” said Brian. “Goodness, I saw a little piece on it on the Men’s Morning Show. Gilly Patrick was ever so funny about it! She said it was the saddest collection of petticoat-shy failures imaginable.”
“Yeah, well, women would say that.”
Brian opened a drawer, took out a dainty bottle, gave it a sniff. “I’m sure they’ll get bored of their little meetings after a month or two.” He closed his eyes, smiled. “You should try this perfume, Leo. — They’re the people who dress up as Superman and climb buildings, aren’t they? Gilly Patrick said that if they were so desperate to wear tights, they could try the new GentleMan lingerie range at M&S. — Oh, that scent is so you!”
Leo didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want Brian to start mocking him too. “Maybe some men don’t fancy a matriarchy.”
“They’re in a minority if they don’t,” said Brian unexpectedly. “You know, I’ve often wondered why so many men have a fantasy of being dominated by women. It’s so common it’s hardly perverse at all. I wonder if it isn’t a primitive memory, even an instinct, of ancient times when women were the dominant sex. And you know, so many househusbands are perfectly contented. I can tell you, there’s something very restful about knowing you are in the hands of a strong woman. I think many men just want an escape from the old masculinity and all that responsibility. It’s such hard work to be in charge all the time. Always having to know what to do. Always having to provide for others. Women want that role, let them have it, I say.”
He gazed through the window for a moment, primping his skirts serenely. Then he woke up. “Look at me dreaming, and not finished my sorting. Sorry, Leo, but I’ve got to ready for my embroidery class, or Kelly’ll break my balls. She’ll be back any second and there’s no way she’ll let me be late. She’s an absolute tyrant!”
“Do you have to rush off? Actually, I wanted to chat a bit, like. I’ve been going to this group —”
“Ooh, what’s this, a little boys’ heart to heart?”
Kelly had appeared in the doorway.
“Isn’t it time you left for your embroidery class, Brian?”
“Of course, love, thanks.” He started up. “I’ll skip along. Your dinner’s in the oven.” He gave Kelly a peck on the cheek as he went out, but she didn’t respond. She was watching Leo.
“Yeah, I’d better be off too.” Leo stood up.
“Come on, darling,” said Kelly. “I’ve got you alone in my bedroom. Let me enjoy it a second.” She loosened her tie and leaned against the doorframe, one leg forming a barrier. Leo felt the tug of his libido. She had a great body. Those tits and that plump arse. She was damn fit. She undid her collar, then whipped her tie off and tossed it to the side.
“I’ve got a boy in my office,” she said. “A very cute boy. I’m his goddamn boss. I expect him to wear a skirt every day. He looks pretty fine, wriggling that ass. When I see his ass in that tight skirt, I just want to give it a grab. And sometimes I do. I just take a handful of sexy ass and give it a squeeze, and it feels bloody great.” She giggled. “It’s great to be the boss. One day I’ll make him finger me and if he won’t, I’ll fucking fire him.”
Leo was intimidated and excited at once. He wished he could talk back in kind, but he knew he’d just sound like a foolish boy. “Why tell me?”
“Because I come home feeling horny. Feeling like a good hard fuck. Brian’s no good, it’s his embroidery day, bless his little lace panties.” She smiled slyly. “Are you wearing lace panties, Leo?”
“No, Kell. I never do.”
“No. ‘Cause you’re a trad man, aren’t you, darling?”
“Well, not entirely —”
She moved, walked towards him, one hand insolently in her pocket. He shifted nervously on his soft stool.
“It’s such a shame,” she purred, nodding at the strewn clothing. “You’d look so charming in a dress. Why don’t you try it? A nice dress, with flowers...”
“I’m getting enough of that from Ginny, already, thanks!”
“Oh, she’s started on you, has she? Good...” Kelly moved closer and put her hand on his hair. “Come on, sweetheart. Didn’t you ever wonder what it would be like, to slip off those trousers and give up? To know you’re being looked after by a strong woman?” She ran her hand down his arm. “To let yourself be sweet and submissive and let all those nasty worries drift away...” Her fingers drifted to his shirt and began to unbutton it.
Leo could see her cleavage through her loosened shirt. His penis was as stiff as a beam. It was a long time since he and Gina had had sex, there was too much tension between them, and Kelly was so forward; it was hard to resist such confidence. He looked up into her lovely hazel eyes, where her intention was as bold as day, and suddenly he thought, what the hell. It’ll teach Gina a lesson.
They undressed quickly. Leo pulled down his underpants, letting his erection stand up in front of Kelly’s eyes. Unabashed, she reached out to seize it, and it reared under her delicious touch. Christ, he had dreamed of this!
“Bed,” she said. “I’ll tame you, trad man.”
Leo tried to lead her there, but she shook her head and nodded her head towards it. Leo lay on his back on the clean white sheets, and Kelly eased herself onto his belly. When he tried to raise his arms, she shrugged them off. “I take the lead,” she said.
With an attempt at bravado, Leo replied: “We’ll see about that that.” Burning under her cool expression, he felt a thrill of joy. All he had to do was take what she gave out. He was horrified that he could enjoy being overwhelmed, like one of those lame-arses in S&M magazines.
“If you don’t like it, then you can leave now.” She spoke briskly, the kind of voice she probably used to upbraid a slack secretary. But there was no chance of him leaving. She was manoeuvring his cock into the moist warmth between her legs, and it strained in her fingers, desperate to get there.
It was not simply that she wished to squat on him. She didn’t want him to move. “You interrupt me,” she warned him, “you’ve had it.” Leo gripped her waist and thrust his hands upwards, and quick as a snake she gripped his chin with one hand till he obediently let go. “Don’t you dare come,” she said, and began to pump up and down on top of him. The pleasure was almost painful. She worked, sweated, and gasped. “Don’t you dare come,” she said again. “I get to come first. Got it?”
It was exquisite to feel her taut body labouring over his. Leo was on the brink of coming, but he held it back. Desperately. There was something about her authority that one didn’t cross. And she was enjoying herself, wincing with the pleasure she was taking from him. It was enthralling and he couldn’t interrupt it.
In the instant she came, she seized his hair and jerked his head back painfully. Then she sat up with a big smile on her face. “Fucking brilliant,” she said.
“May I, now...”
“Oh. Uhuh.” She made a few rhythmic movements, almost disinterestedly, and he finally unloaded between her thighs in a great spasm. She pulled away and lay across the bed, half laughing.
“You can go now,” she said. “Isn’t your wife waiting for you?”
Leo, his face pink, looked over at the clock. Gina would be back in thirty minutes. Sulkily he got dressed, his hair still stinging from all her pulling. “You’re a bloody pervert,” he muttered from the door.
“Piss off, babe.”