Armcandy

 

Gangsters and Molls, by Rolands Revue

 

We are walking down the road, I’m holding his arm and look in front of me. I’m following him, trying to not put too much weight on his arm and being aware of every move I make, listening to the small signals showing me which direction to go. There is people staring. My underwear restrict my movement slightly, make me walk differently, altering my posture, the pearls feels cool against the skin and the tightfitting gloves are perfect, enclosing my hands in a way that make me feel slightly from a different time and a different place.
We are on our way to a friends place and have been prepping during the afternoon and evening. There is something special about what we are doing right now, because Electronic Doll is in drag and doing his gangsterpersonae justice. The wrapping and packing is perfect, and the bulge in his trousers, albeit created with the help of a packing project, makes perfect sense.  And people are staring, and I come to think of all those stories of butch-femme couples that are passing as a straight couple, or all of those butch-femme couples that don’t pass, and it’s not just me who seem to be thinking about this. Electronic Doll seem to be aware of this as well, and we are both reading each other and our environment.

But I guess it is impossible to not flaunt what one got. So I just have to correct my stockings a bit, and he sits slumped back, with that kind of attitude that can just come from really, really good drag. We flirt, giggle, move in and out of characters like chameleons, discuss the potential of chameleons and I point out, as a true jealous girlfriend that I hope there will be no drama during the evening, that he will keep his cock in his trousers, to which he respond that he has never given me any promises what so ever. I know the game is on.
This is not something that I usually do, roleplay with that type of dynamic. I’m not very good at keeping in character, and find that my focus if off, but good god it is fun.

The party is awesome, meeting up with friends I’ve not seen for a while and drinking and chatting and dancing and laughing.  In a moment with some downtime, I sit down in his lap, we talk and then I can’t help but note how he got some lipstick on his mouth. And I explode, I feel angry and fed up and with a sour voice I let him know it.  How he can’t keep his cock in his trousers if he even tried. But he does not like to hear it, and pushing me, and I push back and suddenly we are on our feet fighting and shouting. My heels, the heaps of pearls I’m wearing around my neck, the underwear I’m wearing, all makes it impossible to fight back properly. In no time, I’m pushed against the wall, trying to get away but can’t, Electronic Doll telling me to appologize. And I can’t, my mouth is shut and I continue to struggle, he holds me tighter and there is a little something that breaks me there, but I have no idea what it is. A slight feeling of humiliation, excitement and adrenaline, he let’s me go with the words ‘Go and clean yourself up’. And I can hardly do that either, walking away on shaky legs, with a sense of shame burning on my cheeks.