Oh Rocky

"Babe, I'm kinda scared of these clippers you bought... Babe?"

I stood in front of the mirror in nothing but my blue boxers, shiny clippers in hand, waiting for my girlfriend Gina to respond. Hi. I'm Bill.

* * * * *

If this were a dating app profile, you would probably see pictures of me, your run-of-the-mill average dark-haired, white frat boy type doing stuff like holding up a giant marlin with my dad, probably a shirtless beach shot to show off my well toned physique, and most likely your standard golf shirt, patio holding a beer looking like a bland doofus shot. It would point out that I was 27, 6ft tall, liked Netlifx and sports, and blah blah blah blah. See, I get bored with myself.

Gina, my girlfriend of 7 years, was the exciting one. Part latin, all spitfire, and an endearing ability to go from zero to bitch in no time flat. I loved this woman so much, which is part of the reason why we've been together for so long. The other, is because she knows how to push my buttons, get me angry and get me away from the beige, milquetoast existence I seemed fated for years before we met.

For the first two years, we dated like stupid people in their early twenties date - big eye on the future, holding the ideals of having a family and a mortgage, but then as we hit the quarter life crisis, it was like the scales fell away from our eyes. We would break up and get back together, flirt and cheat on one another. Cry, yell and fight, but still circle back to each other. What finally solidified things between us was a single argument, I had been unhappy at work and was complaining to her again, which garnered no support from her whatsoever - in fact she got pissed off at me and started screaming about me being weak and wimpy. I argued back, yelling at her in my defence. She didn't back down, instead getting in my face and demanding to know what the hell I actually wanted. I was speechless. Any attempt to avoid answering that question, and she pushed me back. At that point, something broke in me, and it was amazing. And that's where we found our loop.

I would hold things up inside of me, instead of connecting with her - she would push me to be honest about what I wanted, which helped focus me, and better our relationship, because I could be a whole and honest person.

So I quit my job, and stood up for myself, and finally went about doing the things that I felt were necessary for me.

And that all extended to the bedroom as well.

* * * * *

"Bill, they're clippers. Gimme," Gina took the device from my hands, and clicked the ON button. The clippers buzzed loudly, and made my balls clench. "Now drop trou',"

I thumbed the waistband of my boxers open, and let them fall around my socked feet. My dark, bushy pubes belittled my sleepy dick, and I shot Gina a sideways glance in the mirror. "We're just trimming, right?"

* * * * *

Most of my early sex with Gina was, again, your boring typical, standard affair. I tried to do my due diligence with her lady bits, but for the most part, it was doggy, missionary, sideways or her on top if I was tired, then sleep. But during our rough patches, when we were broken up, or when i thought or knew she was cheating on me - I tended to seek out more dangerous, perverse, hard-to-explain, sexual partners and scenarios than what I was used to. When we patched things together, I would often wonder what Gina would think of some of the things I had done, or whether she had gotten up to stuff just as crazy. But I never said anything about it, hoping not to start another row.

Then, one day, after a decent bit of mattress fun, Gina asked me if I didn't like going down on her. To be honest, I really hadn't given it much thought, I guess I had felt that it was important to give her a couple licks to get her wet before fucking, but - I mean, fucking was where it was all about. She got indignant, which in turn made me angry, and so we're naked in bed having this fight, when finally she tells me to fuck off, she's going to shower and go home. So I follow her into the shower, still arguing with her, and then mockingly get on my knees and beg to eat her pussy. So Gina says, fine, you want it - you've got it, and plants her crotch in front of my face. I start eating her out, stopping to add sarcastic commentary, when she literally, starts pissing on me. Its in my eyes, its in my mouth, I can taste it, and smell it, and I'm in utter shock, just sputtering and wiping the piss away from my eyes. Yet until she finishes, I'm kneeling there taking it.

We absolutely destroyed my apartment that day. We did every nasty thing I'd ever done with all the throw-away girls I'd been with, hell - she even ate my ass out. Again, scales from eyes, we never looked back. Gina could tell when i wasn't being my genuine self, and would push me to be honest - which most of the time meant, I didn't want to be some boring, uncurious loser.

* * * * *

"How's that look?"

I shifted my eyes from my cock, where I had been watching Gina buzz around with the clippers, to the mirror, so I could eye the whole package. My dick looked bigger (though admittedly, much bigger when hard), but I didn't look like a shaved eunuch.

"Yeah, thats cool. Thanks babe."

Gina blew curly hairs out of the clippers. "Now raise your arms,"

"What? No" I responded with a bit of alarm.

"Look dude, we're just trimming. Dr. Frank'n'Furter had armpit hair, just not buckwheat in a headlock armpit hair,"

Begrudgingly, I put my arms above my head - exposing the shock of dark hair in each of my pits to my razor hungry girlfriend. I looked over my body, the muscles, the toning, the six pack and quads, my puberty being cut back before my very eyes.

"Why couldn't I have been Rocky?" I asked.

* * * * * Gina and I, after our sex-fight, talked openly about our fantasies and desires, and we began to explore the local fetish scene. We attended parties, quietly clinging to each other in dark corners. We went to some events that were just dance parties or weird potlucks. There were some workshops and seminars, but nothing really seemed to click. We had gone to this one party where half the hall was dance and DJ, with another section devoted to BDSM. While holding some relatively strict rules for decency sake (oh hey, prudish liquor license people) and safety, I did get to trade public spankings with my girlfriend. At one point, Gina had been stopped by a monitor, when she began to pull my pants down to expose some cheek. Rules, sigh.

We did meet a handful of folks that seemed interesting though. And after a couple drinks, Gina had struck up a friendship with one of the more forward, leader-like women. They kept in touch, and a month later, we scored an exclusive invitation to a private party at a local dungeon space. The catch was, it was Rocky Horror themed.

Perhaps because of my dark hair, and light complexion - I was fated to be one of the more ghoulish types. After some pillow talk one night, Gina had gotten an idea into her head, and surprised me one night when I got back home from work. Slamming the door shut behind me, I kicked off my shoes, and called out to her. She was cooking away wearing very little but one of my large t-shirts. She turned and leaned on the granite island between us.

"I want you to stand where you are, and to strip naked for me,"

I smirked. Couldn't say no. So I loosened my tie and slipped it over my head. I had started to unbutton my shirt when she stopped me short.

"Uh uh - pants and undies first - then kick them over there... oh, and leave the socks on,"

Her attention to detail. I loved it. So I unbuckled my belt, and pulled my pants and underwear off in one shot. Standing, my semi-hard cock bounced under my shirt tails. I looked at her as if to ask permission before starting to unbutton my shirt. She smiled wide and gave me the affirmative. Shirt off, I stood there naked, dick out, in nothing but a pair of black socks.

"Jerk for me,"

My hand went to my cock as I made a big show about masturbating in the kitchen. Gina kept eye contact with me as she bent over and slipped her panties off, flinging them at me to catch.

"Smell that, I've been cooking all day,"

I brought her panties, the most delicate black lace panties, to my nose and inhaled deeply. Even going as far as tasting the damp, sweaty fabric. It was all the smells that made me horny. I removed them from my face and smiled like an idiot at her. I liked not knowing where things were going.

"Now put them on, and come sit down for dinner,"

Huh? Okay, I thought - I mean, at that point, I was totally going to give in to anything she wanted me to do, but I thought we would get down to business right away before settling back into domesticity.

We ate dinner in the kitchen like that, me in black socks and lace panties. Her in an oversized t-shirt. We did dishes like that, went through the mail and the bills like that, I returned a phone call to my mother like that, and ultimately we plopped down on the couch to watch TV like that. During a commercial break though, Gina reached over the arm of the couch to where my pants were, and removed my belt. My senses perked up, and I sat upright on the couch. With a weird grin on her face, Gina wrapped my belt around my neck, looped it through the buckle and pulled tight - creating a collar and leash of sorts. She pushed me onto the floor, on my knees, and spread her legs. Pulling up her t-shirt, she exposed a freshly shaven pussy and yanked the belt to pull my face into her snatch. My eyes shot up to look for approval, as I ate to my hearts content. I tugged at her labia with my teeth, flicked the hood over her clit with my tongue, and fingered her until she came. She pushed me back onto my butt, and with a pleased look on her face uncapped a tube of lipstick she had on the side table. Leaning forward, and showing me how to part my lips with her own, she crudely scrawled the red wax over my mouth. Satisfied with her handiwork, she took her phone off the side table and snapped a pic. Now, I trusted her with my life, but even that shocked and embarrassed me. To be sat with a makeshift leash around my neck, in women panties, face a mess from her pussy and wearing lipstick, and to have my photo taken. My heart raced, and I was panting. A message was received She showed me.

— Looks like we have our Frank'N'Furter —

* * * * *

"Are you sure these aren't yours?" I must have asked her this about a dozen times now. The panties just seemed so... Tiny.

"Yessssss," she responded exasperated, she was trying to do her own makeup, and didn't really need me bugging her while jamming a spiky stick around her eye. "I ordered them special for you after you split mine in the back. TRUST me, I don't want you splitting another pair of my expensive panties,"

I sat on the edge of the bed, duvet on my bare ass as I pulled up the black silk panties up my legs. Standing, I squished my cock, balls and ass into the sparse fabric, fishing a wedgie out of my ass and looking up at the dressing mirror on the bathroom door. So far so good, I thought. I wrestled with the stockings, ruining a pair (thats why we bought three) before getting them up to my mid thigh. Shit, I thought - do I put the garters on first? I was starting to understand why women were always late. I walked over to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Holy shit. I wanted to fuck myself in this.

"Babe, I think I need your help now," I slide into the garter belt, turning it on my waist, thinking, maybe its close to where it should be. The door opens, and there's my Gina, dressed in filmsy old school undies as my Janet. Breathtakingly innocent and dirty at the same time. She looked me up and down, and her eyes twinkled.

"Ooooooooh Frank!" She squealed and jumped up and down. She drank me in for a minute- her tall, dark haired pale male with black sheer stockings and garters, silk panties and a poorly drawn on bicep tattoo. Despite all the trimming, I still had dark hair on my legs, and sprouting from the side of a rather obscene looking panty bulge. My treasure trail and smattering of chest hair stood out on my fair skin, and offered just the right amount of contrast between the male and female elements of my look. Gina broke from her stare to pick up the corset from the bed, and instructed me to put my arms over my head while she tied me in.

I think I had always admired and appreciated that twisted, androgynous look that Tim Curry had in the Rocky Horror movie, and as I looked at myself in the mirror - a physically strong and powerful man, in delicate female garb being helplessly tied into a corset - I started to feel a new level of sexuality within me.

"Don't dream it babe, Be it,"

(okay, who's interested in part two? The actual party)