The Adventures of Polly Anna Black

Her hands cool and soft flutter over her necklace, the pearls cold to the world warmed against her skin. Sometimes it is hard to tell which is more luminescent, the creamy complexion of her throat or the shimmer of the pearls. Her fingers smooth her hair down, then run along the length of her body straightening her dress. She turns off the oven enjoying the homey scent of fresh baked bread. A smile dances over her lips while she stares at the table set for her family. The tiny toddler size fork with it’s little character face makes her think of her daughter napping in the other room. A frown catches her brow as anxiety steals the seconds… Is she good enough? A good enough mom, a good enough person…. “I better sweep the floor before she wakes up.” Brisk and efficient, she wields the broom like a weapon against the chaos of the world. She closes the door softly, the snoring of the sleeping child a sort of insulation to the night that is calling her. The house is clean, the children fed and in bed. Laundry is done for the day and the breakfast has been set aside. She turns off the light, locks the door and leaves. The dark of the night is cool, the breeze cuts through the thickness of the air around her body. She is very aware of the warm space between her skin and clothes, like a velvet layer of promise it holds her upright. The black lace against her skin is a secret weapon. She knows of it’s substance and it gives her strength, containing her full breasts, and deep wet need. She walks to the car, the clicking of her heels a staccato sound track. She knows where she will find him, so she goes hunting. Once she was hunted, but now she knows her power and her strength. It lies in her very weakness. He sees this in the space between her lips, and the wet sheen of her eyes. He taught her it’s strength. He gave her his desire. She needs this more than anything. He needs to lose himself in her because only when he is lost can her really find himself. She senses his stare before she actually registers his presence. Walking into the bar the polished wood surfaces and platters of wings and beer surround her. Amongst the bodies leaning over stools the sports on the television, and the noises of cups and cheers. She knows he is there. It is like electricity making every pore stand on edge. He nods in her direction, Appraising her outfit and taking her in. The simple cut of the black trench coat, covering her blouse and skirt, and the point of the shoes lengthening her legs. His approval is masked by his hooded eyes. Everything about his expression is lazy but confident. It sickens her when she is mad at him, that he can be so calm and make everything seem so easy. Tonight though it is part of the game. He waves her to his table. She knows how excited he is to see her, his breath catching in his pants. The slight tensing of his knuckles, when the rest of the group look over to see her. She smiles sweetly for them all. Sidling up to a seat she orders a drink. When she takes off her jacket he sees the hint of lace as she shifts her shoulders. His pulse quickens and leans over to ask her “Did you find the place alright?”. His breath damp against her ear, hearing anything not whispered directly into the ear is impossible. A cheer comes up around them as a score is made. The winner of a bet waving for another round. The waitress set down Polly’s drink, smiling trying to catch his eye. He can’t see anything but her. She reaches her fingers to touch his side to pull him close enough to hear her say, “I only got turned around twice.” Her hair slides forward over her face, his hand catches it. “Quite a accomplishment then” he smiles. She smiles, taking the straw of her drink between her lips using her tongue to draw it back, She looks up at him through her lashes. Loud shouts as a ball is dropped. She turns her head to see the screen. He is on his feet. “f**k this…Come on” he grabs her jacket and hand pulling her behind him. The he pulls her out through the door, bursting into the night, the rush of cold outside meeting the warm bar creates a breeze that blows her hair back. She is startled by this sudden exit. He pushes her against the building silencing her stuttering question and catching her breath in his lips. He presses against her… “You know what you are doing to me” “I thought we were going to watch the game and eat with the guys” she says. “I don’t want to watch the game with the guys. I don’t want anything but you right now.” “Why did you ask me to come here” She asks, puzzled. “I didn’t think you would be so distracting” the low tone of his voice vibrating through her. The smell of her hair…the vanilla and jasmine of her skin… even with the beer and the wings, he wanted to breathe her in.The yellow orange glare of the parking lot light caught the rise and fall of her breast with each breath in and out the shadow of her chin. He couldn’t think of anything but pressing his mouth into the hollows of her skin and hearing her breath catch and the moans that follow. Knowing how likely it was that the thin fabric of her panties was already damp with desire. It was all he could do not to kneel and see for himself. The thought of the lace darkened with her need, makes his body tighten, and wanting to regain control of the situation he pulls her away from the wall and heads to the car. Weaving through traffic, the bass of the speakers speaking into her core. She watches him out of the corner of her eye. She loves observing him like this. His easy competence when he does anything he knows well. The way he can turn his head so easily and catch all the information of traffic while his hands work the wheel steering, and his feet shift over the pedals. The way his clothes sit and fall so easily over him, skimming his muscles, and pooling in places she wants to lift and see what lies beneath. The smile that plays along her lips a kind of secret, her thoughts fast forward through the possibilities that could play out under those folds. She shifts her legs, enjoying the sensation of her thighs rubbing together. His eyes glance over when she shifts, and suddenly she knows he is observing her the same way he observes traffic. His knowing the shifting of her legs is for him, the pulse in her throat pounding now. He wants to unleash her desire and make her pant and beg him. It is what she wants after all. He grips the steering wheel and pulls off into a parking garage.