Tender

"It kind of snuck up on us this time, didn't it?" Emily asked me as we enjoyed a drink together, alone, as B was at her grandparents.

"Well...vacation, the holiday, work...suddenly here it is," I said, keeping, or trying, to keep my voice even.

Emily smiled. "You always have a pang of jealously, don't you?"

I shook my head, unsurprised at her observation, her intuition; she knew me well. "Always."

"It's part of it, you know."

I nodded. "I know. I suppose it wouldn't be the same without it."

"Is it different? Now? Different than it was before?"

"The jealousy?" I asked.

Emily nodded. "Before it was, what, a fling. Him, even the other. Is it different when he's not a fling, when he's my boyfriend?" I looked at her nylon covered leg, felt myself stir, swallowed. She giggled. "That still gets you, doesn't it? That he's my boyfriend."

"Yes," I said softly. "It makes the whole thing more...real. It's not just sex."

"Honestly, I'm not sure it was every just sex with Evan," Emily said.

"No, I suppose it wasn't," I said. "But boyfriend..."

She sat forward, had a serious look. "Sara..."

"No, no," I interrupted her, "I don't mean it that way. I...every time you say that word, it makes me jealous...but it also makes me...tingle inside...and...you know..."

"Down there...in your little cage," she said.

I nodded, thinking of the small, locked, pink cage that encased my small, sissy clit, keeping me soft, feminine, submissive. 

She stood, walked behind me. "He's my boyfriend," she whispered in my ear, intentionally teasing me.

"I know," I said.

"Come here," she said.

I stood, she reached for my chest, touched me through my blouse, touched my bra, my budding breasts. "He's the man in my life, in our lives, and I don't regret it at all, not at all. But for all he is, for any feelings I have for him, the only one I love is you."

"Emily," I moaned softly as she touched me.

"I like it locked, you know, prefer it. I'd rather play with these," she said, undoing my blouse.

"You're teasing me," I said.

"Will you think about me when I'm with him?" she asked.

"It's all I'll think about," I said. 

She took me to our bedroom where I made love to her, worshipped her, served her. My pleasure was pleasuring her, leaving me satisfied but unsatisfied, happy but longing, content but frustrated. It was our natural order of things.

After, we kissed, the taste of her lingering on our kisses.

"You're so good to me," she said, "so selfless, so tender, so understanding."

"I'll miss you," I told her.

"I know, love, I know."