Gifted

Our anniversary is coming up.
She prefers practical gifts, not fancy.
So, I bought her Uggs.
To make sure they fit, we traded feet and I went shopping.
Back home, she unwrapped the shoeboxes, and put her own feet back on with the new boots.
I’ve gotten her pedicures this way too.
Manicures and rings by trading hands.
We traded more so I could get her legs waxed, buy panties.
I borrow her breasts to buy bras.
Which don’t fit.
Oh. Right.
Shoulders. Chest, Back.
“Don’t forget the receipt,” she says, handing me a low-cut blouse.
She’s such a tease.

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