Premeditation of Power

Evening BStone

It felt familiar, except the car seemed to move smoothly through characteristically bumpy roads, I mean come on, it was Brooklyn.  She wondered if tomorrow she would remember this ride in shades of black and white, historically accurate brownstones with pretty window boxes standing prominently in the backdrop of her memory and then she stopped caring and started focusing on the task at hand.

Where was she?  Ah, yes, the belt buckle.  She ran her hand over the gold tones of an obviously expensive belt buckle as his hands slid over the arch of her back.  Why did her knees seem to tuck so effortlessly into this position as the faint clink of metal on metal echoed?  Her head brushed against the roof of the car as she raised herself just enough to let him free himself.  No need to do all of the work, she thought.

What seemed to take a lot of thought before was happening fluidly now—the result of premeditation.  There were no scraps of lace as a barrier between his thickness and her warm entry so she just let it be.  Sliding down slowly she threw her head back exposing her neck and it was just the invitation he needed.  “Come here”, he muttered, pulling her forward.  With very little space to escape, she allowed herself to lean into him, no resistance.  He used her neck to muzzle the sounds of his groans as she rocked rhythmically on his lap.  Row, row, row your boat….1, 2, 3, 4….row, row, row your boat…1, 2, 3, 4….gently down the stream….1, 2, 3, 4….merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily….1,2, 1, 2, 1, 2….life is but a dream….1, 2, 3, 4…roll bounce…..yes the rhythm created a frenzy.

She let a moan escape her lips but it wasn’t the same peal of pleasure that he had expressed, it was a victory cry.  The pulsing between her thighs wasn’t her, it was all him as he gripped her waist and threw his head back, mouth open as though he would dare to fall asleep in that moment.  Disengaging, she adjusted her body and dress.  He watched her, mouth open, impressed with her bravado.

“Driver, pull over here please.”  The car slowed to a stop in the middle of the block, darkness  shrouding the actual location of home.  She placed a twenty on his lap and smiled into his perplexed face, “thanks for letting me share your cab, love.  I hope it was a memorable night”.  Speechless, he watched her exit the taxi the same way she got in, full of control.  As the car pulled away to move through the  intersections and streetlights of the borough, she adjusted her hair and makeup and pulled her keys out of the overpriced bag, another symbol of a Brooklyn girl.

She lightly bounded up the stoop, avoiding a loud click of her heels and entered the lobby before turning the key in the lock of her first floor apartment.   She knew what to expect and it’s exactly what she got.  Barely glancing away from the game, he called out his obligatory greeting, “how was your day?”

Nevermind her new dress, sky-high stilettos or slightly tousled hair, he only paid attention to the things that mattered to him.  Smiling sweetly as she headed toward their bedroom,she called over her shoulder, “Powerful.”


2 thoughts on “Premeditation of Power

    1. Thanks so much! Please keep reading, it’s my initial foray into flash fiction. (Had to make that response a little less effusive, sorry, I’m pretty excited about this new style).

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