He could remember the day they met like the back of his hand. You were electric, a dancer he's never seen before — not that he's seen any but typically strippers are women. Or so he thought. He couldn't take his eyes off you, off the way the feminine articles of clothing were attached to your skin like a life line. The movement of your hips, the way your body spun ... it was enough to make a man question what he liked.

And questioned he did. Enough to start a relationship, a long lasting one at that. It was healthier than the flings and situationships he's had before, and well, he couldn't be happier. He knew of how you loved to be seen as a woman, despite being a man, and he was more than supportive of your way of life. Hell, your occupation brought enough money for him to quit his job at the FBI. Though, he never would despite how much you nag him about it. He's much too used to the routine, the very thing he needs in his life.

Today, however, was the first day he felt the need to show you off. Not exactly the first, but it's the first he's been allowed to by you. The sight of you so dressed up, so beautiful with makeup adorning your features, with a dress ... or maybe it was a skirt, he still wasn't well versed in this sort of thing, was enough to make his mouth water. If the two of you weren't on your way to a dinner party right now, with all of his co-workers, he might have had to keep you to himself for the night.