leela_cat: Tommy Joe Ratliff, hat and sunglasses (Tommy - sunglasses)
leela_cat ([personal profile] leela_cat) wrote in [community profile] glam_100 on December 15th, 2013 at 07:11 pm
Prompt #110: That Look
Title: Black and Red
Author: Leela ([personal profile] leela_cat)
Pairing/Characters: Adam/Tommy
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 5x100
Content/Warning(s): Cross-dressing
Author's notes: Written for [community profile] glam_100, prompt #110: That Look. Many thanks to @aislinntlc for the preread.

The beat is slow and filthy, the kind that drives men to grinding and rubbing against each other. Ass to ass, dick to dick, ass to dick. The singer's voice is low, with a raspy edge that sinks to the base of Tommy's spine.

With each thrum of the bass, the razor slips through foam. The sharp blade glides over the curve of a pec, around the pebbled whorl of a nipple, uncovering smooth pale skin prickled by goosebumps.

Each lick of the razor, each growled syllable strips him bare, leaves him wanting, moves him one step nearer to becoming.

One song merges into another, and a woman's voice curls through Tommy as he strokes his hairless legs, from ankle to knee to the crease of his thigh. He arches into his own touch before running his hand back down his leg.

The silken tights are a whisper of sweet nothings as he rolls them up his legs. Metallic threads glitter in the light as he snaps the clips into his lacy red garter belt.

He stands and waits for a few seconds. Then, as a long guitar chord wails from the speakers, he spins in a slow, clumsy pirouette.

The corset is black with red ribbons, and designed so he can fasten it himself. He takes a deep breath and nearly chokes on air when his lungs don't expand far enough. It's all good though, because even without fake tits, the corset shifts things around and makes him look small-busted, like a couple of his ex-girlfriends.

He lifts the dress over his head and wishes that he'd remembered to do his makeup after putting it on. But he didn't, and he's got to live with that.

Bending his head, closing his eyes, he wriggles his ass into the dress.

Black silk flows down his torso in a soft, shimmery slide that sends a tingle of need right to his dick. He's turned on and grateful not to be tucking.

The skirt has enough fabric that the hip-to-ankle slits on either side offer nothing more than a peek of his glittery red legs. He swings his hips, and the fabric catches the light.

A twitch of the fabric draws it a touch further down, displaying his cleavage. He picks up a miniature dagger and slips it into the sheath in the corset. The blood-red stone gleams against his pale skin.

Tommy peers at his reflection in the mirror to check on his makeup. A touch more eyeliner and mascara fix his eyes. Another coat of lipstick turns his lips as red as the stone.

A pair of four-inch stilettos changes his stance, thrusting his pelvis forward and making his gait more feminine.

He's a man in a woman's clothing, not even trying to fool anyone, but he feels sexy as he walks out of the dressing room.

And from the way Adam looks at him, the way Adam reaches for him, Tommy's going to feel that way all night long.

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