“You haven’t fucked her, yet?” Faye sighed, shoulders slouched and dark hair spilling over her shoulder as she sat once more in Erin’s palm. Erin, her other hand occupied with slipping some pretty earrings on, simply shrugged in response.
“It just hasn’t felt right yet, Faye.”
“You don’t know that you can trust her, already? It’s been, like, a month!”
“I don’t make decisions about whether or not I’m gonna fuck someone inside of a month, Faye.”
“You and I were dating for less than two weeks when we first fucked.”
“That was different, we had known each other for years before that, and I knew I wanted you to fuck my brains out before we were dating, Faye. Honestly, I think she’ll end up pinning me down and fucking me pretty soon here, whether I fully consent or not.” Erin giggled slightly, setting Faye herself down on the counter so she could secure her earing.
“Will you stop doing that?” Faye grumbled, arms folding over her chest.
“What, Faye?”
“STOP DOING THAT!” The tiny woman shouted in response, her tinier finger shooting out accusatorily.
“Stop doing what, Faye?”
“Stop saying my name at the end of every fucking sentence! I know, oh, trust me, I know, you’re being soooo much more mature and serious about this, but that doesn’t mean you have to talk down to me like that!” Faye’s anger had already partially wilted, and any scowl that had contorted her face was now far more pout than anything.
“Like what?” Erin frowned with something of a scowl, glancing down at her wife. “You mean like this, where I literally stand above you and then have to look down at you in order to talk to you? Faye.” While she was looking down, Erin took the chance to grab a tube of her favorite lipstick.
“Oh, come on, that was just fucking rude!” The comment from her wife reanimated the tiny ravenette’s indignance if not her rage.
“Was it rude, Faye? I hadn’t noticed.” Erin said, smacking her lips slightly as she popped the top back on the lipstick canister.
“Stop it...” Faye’s voice was quiet, now, unnerved and unprepared to deal with her wife acting like this.
“And what if I say no, Faye?” Erin demanded.
“Erin, please, stop it. I don’t like it, and yet, you keep doing it.” Faye did her best to acquiesce to her wife’s mood, just trying to get it to stop.
“And what if I do like it, Faye? What if I’ve decided that I’ll do it, Faye, just because I can? Maybe you and I need to start taking in the reality of the situation, Faye.” Erin figured her comment would inspire some outrage in her tiny wife, but at that moment, that’s all she wanted to cause.
“What the absolute FUCK does that mean?” Faye gave Erin exactly what she wanted.
“You know exactly what it means.” Erin began, her shoulders straight and her chin up, believing herself not only right in the moment, but justified, at that. “You are short. You are now short, and you always will be short. I love you, and I’m not suggesting anything other than you and I realizing that --”
“Are you asking me for a divorce?” Faye’s voice could have cut diamond if she’d felt like it.
“What?!” The absurdity of it took almost took Erin out of her argumentative mood, but Faye hadn’t nearly finished.
“It’s not working out.” Faye started, approximating Erin’s voice as best she could. “You’re short, I’m tall, you can’t fuck me like you used to cause I might literally break you, and the State considers you dead, anyway, so it’s not like we’d even have to file since I already own everything and --”
“Stop that, Faye.” Erin asked, in what she thought was a kind, caring, pleading tone.
Faye’s head cocked to the side, and her eyelids slid closer and closer together until they were very nearly closed. As clear as day, Faye was scowling, and as clear as day, she replied, still mimicking her wife, “Stop what? Erin.”
“Stop copying my voice like that, it’s creepy.” Erin grimaced.
Faye continued, all the same, staring up at her wife. “When you dislike something, I don’t much care if you tell me to stop, because I’m taller. And therefore, better. Since you’re shorter, though, I expect you to stop immediately because I am my own woman and you aren’t, anymore, Faye.”
“That’s unfair.” Erin replied, her lips now pouting.
“That,” Faye replied in kind, continuing to mock Erin, “is exactly what you just said to me. Even if you didn’t fucking say it.”
“Okay, no, you know what?” Erin sighed, switching tactics. “That’s enough, Faye. I am going to go have dinner, with my girlfriend, and my butthurt, little wife can stay right here on the fucking counter if she’s going to piss and moan about it! At least, then, you can piss into the sink and save me the trouble of cleaning it up.” Erin strode out of the bathroom, flicking off the light and leaving Faye in near darkness as she strode out of the house. On top of that, she totally ignored the 5’9”-tall levels of shouting that Faye was doing from the counter, striding out the door without even stopping to lock it.
Faye herself eventually tied some floss to the faucet and rope-climbed her way down, regretting not asking for Erin to have a ladder carved into the cabinets below. The tiny strayed from her designated countertop; Down the stairs and up onto the couch. There she tried jumping around on the remote to start playing some House of Cards on Netflix, figuring something as bleak as her mood would help her get rid of it. Instead, she couldn’t even get the TV on, and she just laid down and accepted that her evening would suck ass no matter what.
Erin drove to the nice restaurant that Gwendolyn had invited her to. She was wearing a dark, red dress that made her hair seem a brighter shade of orange than a muted shade of orange-red, paired with equally red lipstick, a pair of black, thigh-high stockings, and Erin’s favorite pair of black, “Fuck me,” heels than made her nearly 5’6” instead of 5’3”.
“Erin!” Gwen called, softly, across the restaurant when her date walked through the door and didn’t immediately see the 5’11” woman sitting in their booth. Erin, when her head swung towards her name being called, blinked in surprise. She had never been on a date with a woman in a suit before, and Erin took the opportunity to stare for a moment before she was able to swallow her libido and smile back.
“Gwen!” Erin cooed, striding easily over to her girlfriend. “How are you doing this evening?”
“Aren’t I supposed to ask you that?” In reply, Erin shrugged, watching as Gwen rose out of the booth, still towering over her like she wasn’t wearing 3-inch-heels. “Well, if it’s any difference, sweetie, I had a lovely day, knowing that I would be seeing you tonight. I suppose your day off was filled with anticipation, among other things?”
Erin flushed, tucking her chin slightly as Gwen took her purse and held her hand up to her lips so she could kiss Erin’s empty ring finger, before plopping her shorter date down in the booth that she had lobbed Erin’s purse into a moment or two beforehand. “Other things?” Erin finally replied, having to swallow a 5-inch-lump of worried embarrassment down. “What other things?”
“Did you forget the rule?” Gwen laughed, softly, leaning forward and resting on her elbows. “That after 6 dates, if we had 6 dates and here we are, that I was gonna take you home and screw your brains out.” Nothing about the way she said it allowed Erin to even entertain the idea that Gwen was joking, and instead she bit her lip and blushed.
A waiter came by and offered them drinks before Erin could think up a proper reply. The waiter then returned with Gwen’s strawberry-iced tea and Erin’s cherry-coke, still ahead of whatever response Erin was having trouble calling up. What reply, Erin wondered, was she supposed to give to what Gwen had just laid out for their night; Laying her.
Finally, in a half-giddy, half hesitant way, she pushed back a little bit. “I mean, that’s… Uhm… Exciting and all, but isn’t 6 dates a little bit of an arbitrary number for, like… Deciding to screw someone?”
Gwen shrugged, clearly smirking. “Maybe. Maybe not. But I am gonna blow your mind tonight, baby, whether I have to bend you over your kitchen counter or --”
“Wait, my kitchen counter?”
Gwen stopped and cocked her head, smiling. “Yeah. My apartment is an absolute dump. I’ve seen your car, it’s barely 2 years old, and you don’t seem like you could handle the additional stress of car payments so I figured you paid for it in full. If you have that kind of extra money, then you must have a nice house, too. So, I am going to drive you there, in your car instead of in my junker, and then I am going to fuck your brains out all over the place.”
Erin bit her lip, her toes curling in her shoes and her hands gripping the seat tight as she could manage. “I-”
“And, that isn’t negotiable, Erin. Take that as an order. After dinner, you’re going to know me more intimately than anyone has in a long time.” Erin gulped, thinking about how that could end up being a two-way street.
“Why hasn’t anyone known you in so long?” Erin managed to some up with something, struggling to find date night conversation that didn’t involve, ‘I’m sorry, I can’t, I like you too much,’ or, ‘FUCK ME ALREADY, GODDAMNIT.’ Before Gwen could think of a good way to answer, as Erin could clearly see she was considering, the waiter returned, asking if they needed more time. Since neither had looked at the menu yet, and so they definitely did.
Gwen, after pulling open the menu, came up with a good answer. “Take your shoe off.”
“What?”
“I know you heard me. Just one of them will do.” Gwen flipped through the menu nonchalantly, while Erin’s sat closed on the table, and the redhead stared across the table at her. “Find my knee.” Having sat frozen, Erin suddenly raced to get her heel off, and press her warm toes against the soft silk of Gwen’s dress pants. “Great, now, slide your foot closer to me.” Erin hesitated for only a second, and Gwen pretended to cough. “I don’t repeat myself, sweetie.” Erin scooted her ass as close to the edge of the booth as she could, and still her toes only made it around half-way down Gwen’s thigh. “Closer,” the taller woman demanded, softly.
“I can’t.” Erin bit off, her cheeks nearly redder than her lipstick. Across the table, Gwen’s eyes lit up in realization and she chuckled. A moment or so later, Erin’s date shuffled in her seat, and pressed Erin’s foot against her crotch. Unable to help herself, as her foot felt up what she was sure was there, Erin gasped. “Is that --”
“Yes. Yes, it is.”
“How --”
“Genetic defect. Kinda like that shrinking disease? My mom didn’t have it, sothe doctor says that makes it super unlikely for me to have it. That, and my genetics already pulled off a 0.0001% miracle and gave me, well, that.”
“Uhm… Wow. Is it, uhm… Proportional?”
“To what, my height?”
“Uh huh.” Erin confirmed, watching closely as Gwen paused, before a smirk crossed her cheeks and she nodded slowly. Erin bit her lip, “Holy shit.”
“You could say that. To be honest, that’s why so few people get to see me naked. With something like that, well… You get a feel for whether women who date women are up for that, and you definitely seem like the kind of woman who’s taken her girlfriend’s strapon before. Your hangup, if you’re as gay as I think, probably has more to do with dude’s than it does their --"
“Don’t say it!” Erin yelped, her voice soft but harsh.
Gwen leaned forward, an evil smirk on her face, and whispered, “Cock?” watching as Erin’s eyes widened slightly, and her date suddenly leaned back. All at once, Erin started tossing anything she’d taken out absentmindedly back into her purse.
“I don’t know if I can do this, Gwen, I --”
“-- found an excuse.” Gwen finished for her.
Erin froze. “What?”
“You found an excuse not to fuck me.” Gwen paused to see if Erin would reply. “Every date we’ve had, you’ve sat there with this kind of… Like, hesitant look on your face. Like you really want it, but you also… Really don’t? It’s been confusing the shit out of me. But, I know it’s not the extra bit scaring you off.”
“How?” Erin challenged, “How would you know that?”
“You haven’t stopped playing with my dick with your foot, for one.”
Erin blinked suddenly, blushing yet again as her foot twitched on it’s own accord, rubbing against the thick appendage growing in her date’s pants. “I, uhm, well, that doesn’t mean -- I, I just wasn’t --”
Gwen leaned forward, over the table, and pressed a finger against her lips. “Hush, darling.” She stood up, all nearly-six feet of her, and dug in her pocket for a wallet. She pulled a five dollar bill out of it, and tossing it down as she stepped away from the table. “Grab your purse, sweetheart, we’re gonna skip to the end of the date, to the part where you get wetter than an ocean.”
Erin tried to say no, tried to tell Gwen to leave without her. Instead, she found her hand folding in between Gwen’s massive fingers, and felt herself getting pulled with total ease out of the both. Her purse was somehow in the crook of her elbow, and she hardly felt like she was walking with her hand in Gwen’s. A small, weak protest still lingered on her tongue, but she didn’t feel like she could say it with any sense of conviction any more. As Gwen led her to her car and sat her in the passenger seat, she stared at the taller woman, wondering where the guts she’d grown after Faye shrunk had gone.
Faye, for her part, had only just made it to the couch when the couple sat down. Right around the time when Gwen sat herself in Erin’s car, Faye fell asleep, curled up on the couch.
---