Painted: An Erotic Romance

What is it that Charlie wants to talk about?

The sofa shoved to one side of the living room; I finally had enough space to practice. The winter sun shone in through the windows, illuminating the soft yellow walls and grungy, rental apartment quality carpets. I scanned through my phone and found the song I was looking for on Spotify. I had four songs to work on today. I had a show tonight and wanted to brush up on my moves. The bathroom only worked to practice my lip-syncing. I had spent more than enough time in there.

"How much longer are you going to be, Ains?"

My roommate, Charlie Riddell. He was as supportive as a roommate could be considering the over the top, glittery chaos I had created in our small two-bedroom apartment. A third bedroom would have been a godsend. My bedroom was already filled with wigs, shoes, stockings, breastplates, and hip and ass padding. Charlie's bedroom was off limits.

Our living room doubled as storage for the plethora of dresses, bodysuits, corsets, and props I owned. In one corner stood my dressing table and mirror, drawers of makeup, wig caps and glue, tucking spray, tissue, and tape, and adhesive spray for anything else I needed to stay glued down while performing. Plus, an assortment of panties and gaffs for good measure.

My collection of necklaces, earrings, tiaras, bracelets, rings, and buckets of stick-on nails had found a place in the dining room.

All the makings of Kiki Glamore in nine-hundred and fifty square feet.

"Maybe another thirty minutes." I shrugged.

"What time is your show?"

"I go on at nine and again at ten-thirty."

Charlie plopped himself down on the sofa. "I'll try to make it to the later show."

I blew him a kiss. "You're a star."

"You real-life workin' tomorrow?"

I flipped through the scheduling app on my phone. "Brunch. Nine-thirty." My jobs: server of overpriced food by day—drag queen by night.

"Yuck." Charlie rose from the sofa. "You better not drink tonight."

"Wasn't planning on it."

"Is Dennis going to be there?"

"God, I hope not." My ex-boyfriend, Dennis. He wasn't taking the hint. I had broken up with him over three weeks ago, but he was still showing up for my shows. Granted, it was one of the few drag bars in town, but there were others.

I took a stance in the middle of the room and pressed play on my Spotify app. The speaker hidden somewhere behind an explosion of ruffles burst to life.

Charlie chose this time to make his exit.

Tonight's repertoire. Body Parts by Courtney Act, Baby One More Time by Britney Spears, It's Raining Men by the Weather Girls, and Freakum Dress by Beyonce.

At the club, Ainsworth Fullerton, me, would take on a new, much more fascinating identity. I did so at least three nights a week. Being Kiki Glamore fueled my soul. Discovering drag had been like uncovering an entirely new universe, one designed for little gay boys to thrive in.

I couldn't exist without it.

It was the passion of my heart.

I finished my run-through of each song, satisfied I had them down. There was always room for improvisation. One had to take advantage based on audience response. Climbing into a few willing laps or swooning against a patron were all part of the show. Tips were essential.

I pulled out the stool of my dressing table, took a seat, and assembled what I needed to paint my face. I had shaved and moisturized not even an hour ago, so I ripped open a package and put on a cheetah-print sheet mask. I checked my phone, perusing my Instagram feed as I waited.

I had forty-three new followers.

Nice.

I fanned my face after removing the mask, then started in on gluing back my sideburns. That done, I slipped a wig cap onto my head. My eyebrows were next to be glued down. Once they were dry, I leaned forward and powdered my brows. Foundation was next on my forehead and brows. I used a sponge to distribute it evenly. I turned my head from side to side. My eyes had been puffy a few days ago but they seemed to have calmed down now.

Using a darker foundation, I drew in my brows, then carved them up with my paint stick in white. Then packed it all down with some powder. I fussed through my eyebrow liners, chose two, then went back in and created an ombre effect on my brows. It all ran standard after that. Black eyeliner on my lid with cat-eye details, then I created a new lid line with black liner and filled in the space with a soft brown. I wouldn't be using any wild colors tonight.

A tiny bit of color correction on my mustache and beard area, then a layer of foundation on my lower face, throat, and lips. I leaned back on the stool, examining what I had done. It was a classic drag look, nothing too fancy, just classy.

I turned the wheel on the highlight tube and coated the area across the top of my cheeks and beneath my nose. And set it with powder. I dug through a drawer and retrieved some powder in a slightly darker color and used it to define my cheeks and jawline. I contoured my nose, just a little. I wasn't into a dark line running down the sides of my bridge.

Next a little bit of super white powder under my eyes, above my brow, upper lip, and under my jaw. I found the black liner amongst the mess on the top of my dressing table and created lines beneath my lower lashes, then smoked them out with a small amount of light black shadow.

"You're looking good." Charlie wandered into the room, standing behind me, staring at my reflection in the mirror.

"Why, thank you, good sir." I winked at him, which always made Charlie smile. He was a funny one … for a straight guy. How he put up with my gay ass, I'll never know. We had gone to college together, shared a dorm. Moving in together had seemed like a natural transition.

Then I started doing drag, slowly filling up our little apartment. But Charlie hadn't complained at all. He had taken it in his stride. A whatever makes you happy attitude toward me.

"I'll leave you to it." He touched my shoulder. "You need anything steamed or cleaned?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm good." I pointed toward the outfit hanging behind me facing outward on the clothing rack. "She's all ready to go."

Charlie smiled. "I love that dress on you." Purple sequins. Charlie had a thing for purple. I looked at the time. Six. Charlie would stick around to help me before he took off for the night.

I leaned closer to the mirror, using white liner to pop out the inner and outer corners of my eyes, then used a white then black liner at opposite ends of my water line to accentuate my eyes further. I blinked as I looked at myself. They really were seductive—my eyes.

I smirked at Charlie. He was watching me in the mirror.

To finish my eyes, I curled my lashes and coated them in mascara. Then dusted off the bake. Finding the brush I was looking for, I tapped and pressed some silver glitter body paint along my eyelid. Next, I started with a 304 lash and glued it in place on my lash line, then fixed pieces of a 301 lash at intervals to create points. My new favorite trick. I could create my own custom eye.

Blush on the apples of my cheeks. A few white highlights along my cheeks, brow line, and along the top and bottom of the bridge of my nose, and I was almost done.

Lipstick was the final touch.

"Are you ready for me?" Charlie leaned against the doorframe leading to the kitchen. I liked that Charlie helped me get ready. Kind of like having best friend bonding moments. We had digressed into fits of giggles on many occasions trying to get me into or out of drag.

"Just let me pee."

I was quick about it but made sure my bladder was empty. If I could make it the whole night without having to untuck, pee, and retuck, life would be golden.

I returned to the living room and stripped off my clothes. Charlie had seen me naked more times than some of my boyfriends. He handed me the bottle of tucking spray as I tucked my shaft and balls between my legs. Nice and sticky from the spray, I applied a strip of tissue, smoothing it out against my skin. With my hands between my legs, I pushed my balls into the handy little cavity behind my shaft and completed covering the area in the tissue paper.

Charlie walked up behind me and handed me a strip of tucking tape over my shoulder. I pressed the end down firm on my pubic bone then swung it between my legs, flattening everything. Charlie's hand was at my crease to receive the other end. He taped it down, securing the sticky tape to the skin at my tailbone and running it partway up my spine.

I felt around to make sure everything was in place.

"You all good?" Charlie asked.

"Yup." I turned to face him. Charlie was the most caring and accepting person I had ever met. What other straight guy would be caught dead tucking another guy's junk.

He headed for my bedroom and returned. He had a set of pads in his hands. I pulled on some stockings and accepted each pad as he handed it to me. Lovely curvy hips in place, I pulled on another set of stockings. It was a struggle but with Charlie's help, I got them on.

I eyed the corset. A necessary evil, I'm afraid, for the dress I was wearing. I folded it on and turned my back toward Charlie. He had the task of lacing me into it. He was brutal but he was fair, always cinching me the right amount for the outfit I was wearing.

I grabbed the clothing rack as he completed his final pull. I tried to eat very little after a certain time in the day if I knew I would be wearing a corset. One didn't want stomach juices permanently taking up residence in one's esophagus. Charlie tied the ribbons.

Trussed up, it sometimes took two of us to pull an outfit onto my body. Once it was up around my waist, Charlie handed me the breastplate I would be wearing tonight. It was the kind that didn't need to go on over my head; just fit over my shoulders. The dress and the adhesive I coated the back of the silicone in would keep it in place. He zipped me up.

"Which wig are you wearing?" Charlie took a step back to look at me.

"I want to stack the two red ones I used last week."

"Yeah … nice." He nodded his head. This is when he usually ducked out. Watching me fuss with wigs was not as exciting as watching me flatten my cock.

His words—not mine.

"You off?" I turned away from the mirror and headed toward my bedroom to grab the wigs.

"Yeah, I'm meeting Rick and Sue down at the local."

"It's going to be a country music and beer night, is it?"

Charlie shrugged. "They have some girl they want me to meet." He chuckled. "Apparently, she's a real estate agent."

"Well, shit … there you go then. Just what we need. An agent for something we'll never be able to afford." I smiled as Charlie rolled his eyes.

"True, but Sue says she's nice—smart."

"Perfect." I tapped my cheek. "Kiss me before you go." It was a ritual. A quick kiss for luck. If Charlie wasn't around to give me one in person, he would send me a video of one. I had quite the collection of his quick kiss videos on my phone.

I breathed in his cologne as he swooped in and laid a glancing kiss on my cheek.

"Break a leg."

And then he was gone, leaving me to fight with my wigs, shoes, and jewelry.

---

The gay bar was packed. I arrived in plenty of time to decompress before going on stage. At eight-thirty, it was standing room only out front. Sliding into the dank basement green room, I found a space to sit and examine my face. The whole room smelled of sweat and body odor, and booze. A server from upstairs was down in the room taking drink orders.

"What can I get you, hon?"

"Gin and tonic." I touched her arm. "And a slice of lime … and a straw."

"Sure thing." Then she was off; the other girls already sipping on cocktails, shot glasses scattered across the makeup tables.

A figure stepped into the doorway. I couldn't make out his face, the glare from the vanity lights nearly blinding me. I prayed it wasn't Dennis.

"I decided I preferred gin and tonic to beer."

Charlie.

My face lit up. "You're early." I turned and folded my arms. "How was your date?"

Charlie shrugged. "Nice enough girl. Cute—bit of a talker."

"You couldn't have been there for long."

Charlie looked at his phone. "About an hour."

"Record time … even for you."

"I just wasn't feeling it. Sue was a bit pissed when I said I was taking off."

"The wrath of Sue … you really weren't digging the blind date."

Charlie's face twitched. "Other places I'd rather be."

"Well, I'm glad I'm one of those other places." I tidied my hair and rose to my feet. Charlie was slow to move out of my way. "Was there something you needed from me?"

"Yup … nope." Charlie cleared his throat and stepped aside. He followed me up the stairs and found a place at the side of the stage to stand.

Now, I wouldn't say I'm a comedy queen, but I had the audience roaring and clapping in no time. I could hold my own, especially when it came to throwing shade on regular patrons and my fellow queens for the night. I liked hosting. It gave me a chance to connect with a group of people I might not have the nerve to speak to otherwise. Kiki Glamore was invincible.

Glancing across the crowd, I spotted Dennis at the back of the club. At least he wasn't making a point of standing stage front anymore. No sooner had I thought that, than he came weaving his way to the front. I chose to ignore him and introduced the first queen.

My place on the performance cue was last. Four other girls, two numbers each, then me so I could close out the show with more banter and a plea for tips. I was in my element.

Charlie was waiting in the wings when I left the stage exhausted, gasping for air—and laughing. His warm smile and a pat on my back greeted me. I took the drink he offered me and sucked hard on the straw, quenching the fire in my belly.

"You were amazing," he shouted over the music.

I was still riding on a high. His words barely registered. I felt good—my performances had felt good. A tingle ran through my body. Charlie's hand on my lower back felt good. He guided me back to the chaos of the green room but waited outside in the hallway.

Once my face was blotted, I joined him.

"Do you need help changing your outfit?" Charlie fingered the edge of my dress near the shoulder. He sighed and lowered his hand.

"That would be fantastic." I grinned. "My very own assistant. The girls will be jealous."

Charlie gazed toward the far end of the basement then down at his hands. He glanced up at me, meeting my eyes, and smiled. "You really were good out there."

"Means more coming from my favorite admirer." I flicked open the fan I had picked up in the green room, fanning myself. The cooling effect was glorious.

I looked over my shoulder; the green room had cleared out considerably. "There should be enough space in there for us now." Charlie seemed to hesitate but then followed me.

Charlie stood close as he unzipped my dress, his breath dancing on my shoulders. He slipped off the heavy sequined dress and helped me step out of it, supporting me from falling over.

He was acting strange. His breathing was shallow and measured, his fingers fumbling. He looked up at me and licked his lips. "Can we talk later tonight … after the show?"

"Sure." I lifted my next dress off the rack, conscious of the fact Charlie was staring at me. As if he had expected me to answer differently. Worried I would refuse his request.

I turned and touched his arm. "Any clues as to what's up?"

Charlie shook his head. "Not here."

The next few minutes passed in near silence. Our usual banter subdued. Charlie's date must have gone worse than he was giving up. He was in a mood.

As he zipped my dress in place, Charlie lingered, fiddling with the latch of my necklace at the base of my neck; his fingers tickling my skin.

Something was up. I turned and touched his chin so he would look at me.

"Are you all right?"

He laughed, a forced huff of air. "I'm surviving."

One of the queens leaned in through the doorway. "You're on in five."

I smiled at her. "Right … thanks."

The rest of the queens cleared out of the green room, headed to the bar for a top-up. I had been serious about not drinking tonight. I was limiting myself to the three I'd already had.

"Can I get you anything, my queen?" Charlie took my hand in his and kissed my fingers. He laughed against them and caught my eye. The cheeky twinkle had returned to them.

"No." I led the way out through the door. "You're dismissed."  

---

The apartment was dark when we returned. I had forgotten to leave any lights on. Charlie crashed into me as we spilled into the front entryway, giggling. The second set of performances had gone better than the first. I had served some seriously shady tea to the crowd. I'd been sickening. Charlie had been in the wings laughing so hard, he was crying. I wouldn't let him forget it.

He was gasping for air behind me, holding my shoulders to keep me upright. I had nearly crumpled a few times, my platform heels deciding to misbehave. My garment bag was tucked against my stomach in my efforts to protect it. I reached for the light switch and found it.

"Oh, thank God, we have light." Charlie rested his chin on my shoulder, his hands making their way around my waist to give me a hug.

It wasn't common for him to hug me, but it wasn't entirely unprecedented. He held on longer than he had ever done before. I broke the contact by laughing and squirming in his arms.

"I have to pee. Don't squeeze me."

"Right … sorry." Charlie raised his arms as if surrendering. "Let's get you untucked."

I headed for the living room, unfastening jewelry as I crossed the room. It all ended up on my dressing table. I kicked off my shoes and turned my back to Charlie. "Unzip me."

The progress was slow as if Charlie was savoring it, unzipping me. With the zipper resting at the base of my spine, Charlie stepped closer to me, tugged the dress off one shoulder, and placed a kiss on my skin. At first, I thought he was joking. Having a lark. Then he kissed my neck—soft and gentle. He moved my hair aside and slipped the dress off my other shoulder.

My heart was thundering in my chest as he released my dress to the floor. What happened next was like a dance. His working loose the laces of my corset was deliberate—sensuous.

I tossed my breastplate at the sofa.

I sighed and tipped my head to one side. Charlie's lips brushed across the base of my neck, his hot breath cascading down my spine. I reached back and touched his hand as he finished unlacing the corset. "Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?"

Charlie nodded. "It's been killing me."