To the Party


"Are you ready, honey?" a man's voice asked from the other room. "We don't want to be late."

Spencer was looking at himself in the mirror, obsessing over every little detail. How his dress adjusted to his movement. How his hair and makeup fared at different angles of light. How his necklace and earrings matched his outfit. It was an exercise in futility; he knew nothing would remain perfect as the night went on, but he couldn't help but try to be presentable. I guess I really am a woman, he laughed to himself. 

"I'm going to start the car." Spencer heard the man walking down the stairs. He knew he couldn't keep stalling forever; his "husband" was getting impatient. "Just a second," he replied. "I'm almost ready."

He squeezed his boobs one last time. Satisfied with the results, he headed downstairs to join his husband. The man's eyes lit up at the sight of him. "You look beautiful, honey," he said as he leaned down for a kiss. Spencer wasn't ready for such an act of intimacy, but he managed to endure the unwanted contact with his lips for one agonizing second.

On the way to the party, questions began popping up in Spencer's head. What if I can't maintain this facade? What if someone finds me out? I didn't ask for this. Spencer inhaled sharply. What if my husband wants to have sex with me tonight?

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