“Hey, wake up. You’re going to be an honorary in the drag fashion show about to go down.” Mary Allison grimaced while shaking her head.
She knew Donnie wanted to show off his work, but walking across the stage without help might be a stretch for her. Her gaze trailed his face from his eyes glimmer with excitement to his grin. “Are you sure no one will get upset? I’m not exactly eye candy around here.” She pointed to her boobs.
“Bitch, please. Some of those queens going to look more like a woman than you. Get up.” He reached for her hand but she pulled away.
Her lips poked out. “That’s worse. I’ll be stiff and I’ll look stupid. Someone might be offended.”
“Hooker, we’re all family here. No one is asking you to lip sync. All you have to do is walk down the stage and back.”
“But…”
He lifted a hand showing her his palm. “This is not the Junior Miss pageant or even a paying gig. You ain’t takin’ work away from anyone, but if someone hands you a tip, take that shit.” He lifted a finger in the air before waving his hand. “Now go pimp my design!” He took her drink and helped her to her feet. “And watch your tipsy ass. Don’t fall off the stage.” He shook his finger at her before he shooed her along.
“Fine, I’m going. I’m going.” She huffed as she slipped behind the curtain. “Unbelievable.”
As she entered the lineup, a six-foot-tall queen looked her up and down. “Girl, I don’t know if you’re wearin’ that dress or if it is wearing you, but hot damn, you look good.”
Captivated by his beauty, Mary Allison stood back and took in the whole picture. A long, strapless, pink dress clung to his slender frame and was accented by elbow-length white gloves and a rhinestone choker. Perfectly plucked eyebrows and expertly applied makeup gave him the face of an angel while an ash-blonde wig finished off the look. Except for his height and an enormous pair of rhinestone-adorned heels, there was no indication he wasn’t a woman.
“You look gorgeous.” Mary Allison swayed on her feet.
The queen lifted an eyebrow. “Careful. You better not throw up on me.” The man placed a large, costume diamond ring on over the glove on his right ring finger.
Realizing whom he was emulating, she exclaimed, “Oh, Marilyn!”
A smile curved the impersonator’s painted pink lips. “Yes, girl! Call me Norma Jean.” The queen placed a hand on her hip and posed.
“You girls ready?” Donnie covered the head of the microphone he was holding. Mary Allison cringed, wishing her bestie hadn’t taken her booze. She wanted to forget about her stupidity, poor judgment, and especially how thinking about Holden’s kisses still made her heart thump. She rubbed her temples with both hands. Shit, fuck me.
* * *
The rest of the night seemed like an alcohol-fueled hallucination with lots of flashing lights, loud music, dancing, and drinks until later in the evening when Donnie took her to his house and stripped off her red dress. “I’ll hang it up for you.”
He disappeared into his gigantic walk-in closet. When he’d bought his apartment, he’d had the bedroom next to the master turned into a clotheshorse’s paradise while the closet intended for the room was relegated to holding linens. When it came to shoe racks and cedar drawers, Usher and Beyoncé had nothing on her best buddy.
Wearing nothing but her panties and a pair of strappy, high-heel shoes, Mary Allison sprawled out on Donnie’s bed. After changing into a pair of silk pajamas, Donnie returned and slipped the shoes off her feet.
“Check you out, wearing panties, hook-ah!” Donnie’s tiny overbite teased, drawing out the last syllable before grinning.
Literally drunk off her ass, she giggled as she rolled onto her side. “I always wear panties if I’m wearing a dress or skirt, you anal hole.”
Donnie fished around inside her gym bag and pulled out a cotton pajama set adorned with sheep. Sitting up, she put her arms up in the air and waited.
“Lord-love-a-duck, I am glad I don’t want any children because I already have you.” He snickered as he pulled the shirt over her head and then started trying to work the pants up her legs. She kicked her feet, negating his efforts. Realizing his mistake, Donnie yanked the white panties down and off.
Tugging at the bottoms, he demanded, “Bitch, help me out here.”
She laughed obnoxiously before sticking out her tongue. Donnie smirked, shaking his head as he yanked the up bottoms up over her rear. After flipping her onto her stomach, he landed a couple of hard slaps on her booty. “You are a bad girl, Mary Allison Applegate!”
Still rolling around on his bed while laughing. “So are you!”
“You got that right!” Donnie strutted around the room before stopping in front of the mirror to shamelessly pose and preen.
“Which one of those guys in the fashion show tonight are you doin’?” She slurred her words.
Gliding over to stand at the foot of the bed, he threw a smile over his lifted shoulder. “One? Donnie is not trying to settle down. I’m still young.”
“Donnie better be trying to use some protection every time. If I have to schlep my fat behind to an AIDS ward to visit you every day, I’ma beat your ass.”
“So noted, dearest, and of course.” He opened his bedside drawer and picking up a mile-long chain of condom packets. “Oh, and now only gay men can catch the HIV?” He lifted his hand showing her his palm while lifting an eyebrow.
“Not ’cause you’re gay but on account of you’re a mega-slut.” The words rolled off her tongue with a slight slur as she pointed her toes at him.
