The sun beat down on her like an interrogation spotlight. August in St. Louis is like standing at the gates of hell, Anna thought to herself, wondering again if she should consider moving somewhere with a more temperate climate. But her family was here, and her friends, and her job... The thought of starting over again somewhere else, while tempting, just didn't seem worth it right now. So she kept walking, cursing the cars lined up at all the meters around the courthouse. Jury duty in the city sucked. There was no other way to put it. While they nicely paid for parking, it was in a garage ten blocks from the courthouse, and unless you were called in spring or late fall, when the weather was cool, the trek was miserable.
The last time she had jury duty had been December, 18 months ago. Fortunately, Anna hadn't been selected to serve on a trial β it had been a close call, but she managed to avoid it, and only waste the two days of jury selection. She'd heard that trial had lasted the full week. But all she wanted to do right now was get through today and tomorrow. Thursday and Friday. Then it would be Saturday, and the Charity Gala. While not normally her cup of tea, her boss had asked her if she would like to go β the firm had purchased a table, and now they needed bodies to fill it. It wasn't like she had anything else going on, after all. Her divorce was final (finally!) and she was settled into her new house. The unpacking was finished, she'd painted the dining room, and it was too damn hot to start a garden. So she had bought a dress she'd found on a clearance rack at Famous Barr and made an appointment to have her hair and nails done Saturday afternoon.
***
As Anna sat in the jury room, she leafed through a magazine while studying the other prospective jurors who gathered. This was the interesting part of jury duty, imagining what kinds of lives they had put on hold to come here today. She studied the handsome black man, his hair just beginning to grey at his temples, working feverishly at his laptop in between answering his cell phone and talking animatedly. She guessed he was in upper management at a mid-size company, hoping to close a deal before the end of the week. The unkempt older woman in mismatched sweats and ratty sneakers appeared unemployed, possibly on disability, and the lines in her face suggested she had been unhappy for a long time. Two rows behind her sat a young woman in her early twenties, her long blonde hair perfectly smooth, watching with disdain as the grungy man next to her calmly spit shells from sunflower seeds into a paper cup.
She wondered if this young woman had left a young man in bed, tangled in the sheets, the window A/C unit humming. Was she wild in bed? Demanding? Adventurous? Or did she do her best to please him, sacrificing her own pleasure to keep him around? These were the other kinds of things Anna wondered about some people she observed.
Take, for example, the young black man seated three rows in front of her and slightly to the right. Anna had a good view of his profile, and the way he slouched in his seat suggested he was very comfortable with his body. He didn't care what others thought of him. His hand tapped out the beat pumping into his headphones, and he had good rhythm, which brought to mind other interesting uses for rhythm. He wore a black T-shirt that stretched invitingly across his broad shoulders, and she could tell from the slight bulges that he worked out with some regularity. His arms were nicely defined, and she could imagine him supporting himself on his arms above her naked and supine body, showing her the rhythm in his hips.
By late morning, she was horny and tired of fantasizing. She needed a little relief, but privacy was a bit of an issue. And what if she were in the throes of orgasm when her number was called? On the other hand, she'd be much better able to concentrate once she got the horny out of her system. It had been so long since she'd had a man she couldn't even admit the length of time to herself. Sure, she always had Bob, the battery operated boyfriend, but there were times he was a really poor substitute for a flesh and blood cock pumping in and out of her, and Bob didn't coat her breasts with cum and tell her to suck him clean when he was done. Bob didn't tell her to sit on him and fuck herself while he watched football. No, that was what her ex did, and he was gone now.
So what was a horny girl to do?
Anna's thoughts were interrupted by the call of juror numbers, and she listened, wondering if perhaps she should yell BINGO if her number was called. 104, 257, 319, 390, 393... Yep, that was her, Juror number 393. She gathered up her things and followed the other chosen jurors to the assembly area, her solo tryst put on hold for the time being.
***
Jury questioning lasted the better part of the afternoon, and again she narrowly escaped being selected. Had they eliminated one more prospective juror, Anna would have been next in line, and it turned out to be a rather violent rape case she remembered hearing about several years ago. Amazing how long it took sometimes for these things to come to trial. In all honesty, however, she wasn't sure she could have been an impartial juror in this instance, so it was probably best she hadn't been chosen.
But at least the lawyer for the prosecution was easy on the eyes. He wasn't tall, but he carried himself like he was the most important person in the room. He introduced himself as Matthew Golden, which seemed ironic, given that his hair was jet black and his skin had a somewhat olive tone. But Matthew Golden was a looker, and she was pretty sure he could captivate a jury with that wide smile and eyes that whispered "trust me." His wedding ring, however, was not lost on her, and she had spent the rest of the afternoon fantasizing about what he might be like in bed, and what his wife looked like, and whether or not he had ever brought her up here after hours to fuck her on the witness stand.
By the time the rest of the panel was dismissed, it was nearing five o'clock, and downtown traffic was already a nightmare. Anna knew of a little bar a few blocks away called The Bench, and it was a regular hangout for lawyers after court ended for the day. A nice cold one was definitely called for, because she wasn't willing to sit in traffic in the sweltering heat. And it wasn't like she had anyone to go home to anyway. Maybe she'd find a nice guy who'd be willing to buy her a drink, tell her a few war stories, make her forget temporarily that she had sworn off men and relationships...
***
Three beers and four lawyers later, Anna had had enough of The Bench. The few lawyers who looked interesting were not interested in talking to a single woman alone at the bar. The ones who did approach her were sleazy at best. One guy was actually an ambulance chaser, and freely admitted it. She closed her tab and headed for the door, just as Matthew Golden was walking in. Although it was tempting, she resisted the impulse to turn around and offer to buy him a drink. Anna just wasn't quite ready to pursue a married man, regardless of how sexy he might appear. Married men brought all sorts of complications to bed, and she just wasn't willing to open up that can of worms just yet. Over the course of her life, she had only met a handful of me she'd be willing - and eager - to bed, wedding ring be damned. Tonight, the only person she wanted to bed was herself.
***
By Saturday evening, the heat had reached a feverish peak. Thunderheads were building up in the west, and the air was thick with moisture. Severe storms were expected by morning. Anna dressed slowly, the air conditioning on full blast. She was thankful the stylist had put her hair up, allowing tendrils to escape and curl in the humidity.
First came silky red panties, a garter belt, and matching strapless bra, followed by sheer thigh-high stockings. Next, she slithered into a fitted red dress that skimmed her hips and ended just above her knees, and slipped the spaghetti straps over her bare shoulders. A pair of red heels completed the look. She kept her jewelry simple: a thin gold chain around her neck and a pair of ruby earrings. Simple, but elegant. Trite, but right. If Anna had to fill space at the table, she wanted to fill it with class.