Places

Emily was on the phone Sunday morning when I walked in the room; we were home alone as B was at her grandparents. "Evan," she mouthed, smiling at me. I pointed to the door, asking if she wanted privacy. She understood, shook her head, lifted her foot and held it towards me. She wanted me to stay and give her a foot massage while she made plans with her boyfriend. I sat on the edge of the bed, took her foot in my hands, saw her smile at me, mouth some words. "You're such a good girl," she said silently.

They were talking about their plans for the next day (today), when to meet, plans, etc. "I don't know, do you want to go to dinner first or..." She paused, laughed. "Both, of course," she said. "Evan," she giggled, "of course I want both." Her hand drifted up, she was idly touching her breast through her half open robe.

"It's never enough for you, is it?" she asked him.

I was massaging, felt her foot press against my chest, leaned over, kissed her toes reverently. 

"Right here giving me a foot massage," she said. "Evan, of course! You just want to hear me say it; you're such a man."

He talked for a few seconds and I couldn't hear him. 

"Men are so typical. Of course I miss feeling you inside me." She giggled. "Evan...fine...of course I miss feeling your cock inside me. Why? Because it feels so good, that's why." She looked at me again. "Men," she mouthed.

I was shaking, melting, picturing her with him. I leaned down again, sucked at her foot, took each toe in my mouth. She was obviously enjoying it, her sissy giving her a foot massage, her boyfriend making her talk dirty. Her lover. Her boyfriend.

"To be honest, I think she likes giving me a massage as much as you like taking me, maybe more." Emily looked up at me. "Well I don't think she'd trade places with you, either; being the man in my life was never her thing." She smiled at me. "It's certainly less tempting when you're in charge."

He asked something.

"I don't know. Conflicted but happier, I'd say, it's like one of those want it but don't want it kind of things."

I knew what she mean, what she referred to. The moments I wanted to be uncaged, the urge of the immediate, balanced against the comfort of indefinite chastity, feminine by choice and necessity. By way of affirmation, I leaned down again, kissed her toes again, accepted my place in relation to his.