Wednesday, September 24, 2014

Making it Sexy

            “I feel silly,” she called from the bathroom.
            “Just come out here and let me see you,” he said.
            “No. This is dumb. I look…silly.”

             Mel sat up in bed and adjusted the covers next to him. He smoothed out the place alongside himself for Amy.

             “Come on sweetheart. I’ve got the bed all ready. It’s no big deal. It’s just something fun for us,” he called.
            “Fun for you. I think I look like a French whore,” said Amy.
            “I thought that was the point,” said Mel.
            “I thought the point was to be more intimate,” said Amy.
            “It is, it is. For sure, but it can be fun too right,” asked Mel.
            “I don’t know. I feel stupid.”

            Mel sighed and cleared his throat. He looked around Amy’s bedroom and all the strange girlie things she had strewn about; necklaces and earrings, scarves and little hats, ceramic kittens and wide-eyed porcelain unicorns. Photos of black and white movie stars, old movie posters, a few classic movie monster toys, old album covers framed on the walls; it was like some bedroom of vintage horrors. He sat up against the white Victorian style headboard and rubbed his eyes and brushed his hair back.

             “What are you doing in there,” he called out.
            “I’m trying to snap this damn thing, just… shut up. I’ll be right there,” said Amy.
            “Where’d you get all this movie monster stuff,” asked Mel.
            “I go to a little thrift place by my work. They have all kinds of cool stuff there,” said Amy.
            “Right. Cool stuff,” mumbled Mel.

             The bathroom door opened and the light went out. Amy stepped into the bedroom and posed in the doorway. She was wearing a short light red corset that exposed her flat stomach and forced her bosom up, very small red panties trimmed with black lace tied with bows at the hips, and a black lacy garter belt connected to black and red thigh high nylons. Her hair was curly and full, her make-up was seductively tasteful. The sheen on her lips was glossy and wet. She had a body for lingerie, especially with the added black pumps she had on her feet, giving her legs just the right amount of curves.

            “So, what do you think,” she asked.
            “Amazing. Simply amazing. You’re beautiful. Simply stunning,” said Mel.
            “Well, I feel stupid,” said Amy.
            “No, baby, no. Why do you feel stupid? You look incredible. I mean, so sexy. So, so sexy,” said Mel.
             “This isn’t me you know. I never wear this sort of stuff,” said Amy.
            “I know. That’s why I thought we’d give it a try,” said Mel.
            “Well, I’m not really comfortable,” said Amy.
            “Well, you won’t have to endure for long. I’m quite positive you won’t be wearing much of that for very long,” smirked Mel.
            “Have you made other girlfriends dress up for you like this,” asked Amy.
            “That’s not really important right now,” said Mel as he motioned for her to join him on the bed.
            “No, not yet. I think it is important. Have you asked all your other girlfriends to dress up in this ridiculous stuff,” asked Amy.

             Mel fell back in bed and put his hands over his face and moaned.

             “C’mon, can’t we just have one sexy night of unbridled passion without all the questions,” said Mel.
            “Unbridled? I feel bridled with all these little latches and snaps and things I have all over my body. Makes me feel… cheap,” said Amy.
            “Baby, it isn’t cheap at all. You look amazing. I thought you’d feel sexy in it, not constrained or you know, bridled,” said Mel.

             Amy moved toward the full length mirror on the back of her bedroom door. She looked herself up and down. She posed and tried to put herself into a sexy magazine pose.

             “See baby, you’re beautiful. Now come here and kiss me,” said Mel.

             Amy stayed in place in front of the mirror, turning her head from side to side, putting her hands on her hips, bending one knee forward in a sort of Miss America swimsuit pose.

             “Come here darling, kiss me,” said Mel as he reached out for her from the bed.
            Amy turned from the mirror and looked at Mel. He was naked already, only slightly covered by the nice sheets Amy had bought herself. She really liked those sheets and now Mel’s junk was rubbing up against them.

             “Serious, you do this to all the girls you date don’t you? You sort of convince them that they’re beautiful, but they could somehow be more beautiful if they would just put on this crazy, Mel’s sexual fantasy outfit, right? That’s what you do,” asked Amy.
            “Don’t you want to do it for me? Is it too much to ask that every once in a while we get things a little sexier, a little naughtier,” asked Mel.
            “Maybe it is too much for me. Maybe I’m just not really this kind of girl. I think I’m going to put my regular pajamas on,” said Amy.
            Mel swung his legs over the side of the bed and strode toward Amy. He put his arms around her and started kissing her shoulders and neck. His hands felt the soft material of the corset and the tops of Amy’s breasts.

             ‘Doesn’t this feel sexy,” he said as he continued to kiss her.
            “No. I feel like you’re trying to make me your whore,” said Amy.

             Amy stepped back from Mel and crossed her arms over her chest.

             “What the hell Amy? We do your things all the time. We go to the movies you want to see, we hang out with your friends, we talk all night and sometimes you ditch me so you can go to some stupid comic book thing. I mean, what the hell! I ask for one night of something sexy and I get pushed away,” said Mel.
            “Are you saying I owe you? That because you just put up with my interests so you can bang me,” said Amy.
            “No, no, I’m not saying that,” said Mel.
            “Sure sounds that way to me.”

             Mel went back to the bed and grabbed his jeans from the corner. He started putting on his pants and his shirt, followed by his shoes.

            “What are you doing,” asked Amy.
            “I’m leaving. I don’t want to do this anymore,” said Mel.
            “Do what, have a real conversation,” asked Amy.
            “No, this isn’t a conversation. This is you just getting what you want all the time and me having to suck it up. Well I’m not going to do that anymore. I’m done. I want a real partner. Someone who actually wants to maybe dress up in a sexy way for me, because she wants to do it,” said Mel.
            “Fine. Go. I want someone who doesn’t make me feel bad about having to wear this stuff. I don’t want to feel like anyone’s whore!”

             Mel opened Amy’s bedroom door and rushed passed her. He went to the front door and stopped. Amy thought he might turn and say something, something that would finally make him really be the real romantic man she hoped for, the one she thought he could be.

             “How do you undo this lock on the door,” said Mel.
            “You have to turn the bolt to the right and then pull,” said Amy.
            “Fine. Bye.”

             Mel exited Amy’s apartment and lightly slammed the door behind him. Amy sat back on her bed and looked down at her legs. She started to unhook the garters at the top of the thigh highs. A tear rolled down her face and a dark mascara tear dropped onto her exposed white thigh. She fell back onto her bed and cried. She felt something more than sadness though, something that was eerily more satisfying. She felt relieved.

             Amy’s phone vibrated on her nightstand and she knew it was Mel. She ignored it started getting out of the ridiculousness costume Mel made her wear. She looked forward to her regular pajama shorts and Pink Floyd tee shirt. She hoped Robocop might be on TV and she could get lost in its 1980’s glory before falling asleep.

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