Poly Anima found it very hard to leave the scene of the crime, where the sweetest of assaults on all senses took place.
Little ripples of delight lingered as hard evidence of a very dreamy sequence. She lay there collating the data, running her hand over precious DNA, brushing dried flecks from between her breasts.
An endorphin-powered flash bulb in her brain had captured the highlights. They looped for her now, as she lay sprawled all road-kill style across the generous bed at the Edwardian. It was well past morning. She couldn't move; she'd been totally side swiped. How overwhelming, how delightful and unexpected. A fresh acquaintance, only 36 hours old and they had already exposed their soft underbellies and hard edges.
Two nights before, she was leaving a bar with someone else. He had joined her and her new friend Mr. Rake as they sipped their last cocktail, engaging them in lively conversation to make them stay. Poly bantered at her best, both men transfixed as she spoke. It wasn't the quality of the banter that held them - though she was in pretty good form. It was the accent, and maybe the low cut top. They found each other's voices mutually exotic. Flowers was an Oklahoma boy, Poly an Adelaide girl with a neutrality of accent that often saw her mistaken for South African. Mr Rake a New Yorker. Mr Rake was eager to leave and get down to business, clipping each attempt at a new conversation. Poly took the hint, excusing herself and ducking to the loo. Flowers looked panicked.
She checked herself over, tousling her hair, slicking her lips and arranging her ample breasts neatly in their lacey cups. She was looking forward to fucking Mr Rake. He was a little older than her usual fare, but well preserved. He was a supplement swallowing health nut, with lean hard muscles from some sort of martial arts training. She felt herself slowly moisten as she thought about his strong hands on her earlier, during their playful mock sparring session near the dance floor. He'd taken control of her quickly, pulling her arm behind her back and nibbling her earlobe. Poly considered spiking his foot with her heel, but thought it best to play nice for now. "Stop thinking about it, get in the car and get to it!" She barked at herself in the mirror.
In the dark corridor between the bar and the bathrooms, Flowers appeared from around the cigarette machine. Looking anxious, he could hardly speak and mumbled something about having to talk to her again. He pushed a note with his number into her palm. He was close enough to smell her now. He brushed his lips along her neck. She threw her head back, and let out a little moan. He pressed in to her and she could feel him swelling behind his zipper. She hitched her leg up around his hip. He grabbed her ass rocking them both back and forth with a slow syncopated thud against the fag dispenser. She wouldn't let him kiss her, thrashing her head around as he bit her neck. She'd just put her lippy on and Mr Rake was only meters away at the bar waiting for her. She dropped her leg and set him back at arm's length. She had to go. They stood for a moment panting. She was extremely wet. He was rock hard. "I'll call you, but I have to go." She put the note in her bag and walked quickly to the bar, her hair very tousled now. "Let's get out of here" she dropped over her shoulder, walking right past Mr Rake and heading for the door.
Mr Rake was a perfunctory fuck. The itch politely scratched. Very politely in fact, except for the little bit of rough stuff in the hallway as he slammed her against the wall, then pressed heavily against her squeezing the air out of her lungs. He had her pinned, her legs apart. Two fingers slipped quickly along the edge of her knickers and then trailed the slicked length of her pussy. He licked his fingers, smirking. He mistakenly took credit for the wetness, throwing her over his shoulder and tossing her onto his bed across the hall.
Everything that occurred in the bedroom was pretty straightforward. He was on top, her legs stretched out in a wide and flexible V. Condoms were not her favourite thing and she wondered how much improved this would be without one. Not much she concluded. She knew she wasn't going to cum, but she was enjoying watching the muscles tense in his neck and the way he stuck his tongue out at intervals - a bit like a lizard sucking at the air. She wished she'd let Flowers kiss her now, and allowed her mind to wander.
After Mr Rake came he inquired if she was suitably satisfied. If there was anything else he could do for, or to her, to make her experience equitable. She was very impressed by the good manners, but declined the offer and asked if he minded driving her home. During the short drive, she became aware he had a stable of lovers on rotation. Again Mr Rake was polite yet direct, which she appreciated. She was happy to go on the list, somewhere near the bottom preferably, and they agreed to do dinner sometime "soon."
Two nights later she met with Mr Flowers. He took her to his secret places; a little hilltop on the edge of the city, where the wind whipped at them, and a bar with a little garden out the back littered with statues, fairy lights and jasmine. He sang softly to her on the house guitar kept above the bar, his voice wispy and sentimental. It was her first time being serenaded. It was getting to her. A sweet sticky blanket of sound all wrapped up in the jasmine and the vodka and the little twinkly lights.
