Thinking of the man she awaited, often in the nights, her fingers would wind their way along her skin, over the slopes of her hips, to the center of her thighs; wet lips there that clasped at her hands, sucking them in slowly, a sharp twisting grind of her clitoris against the back of her palm. Thinking of the man she awaited, her mind went all Art Deco; herself a goddess draped in velvet and ermine, gigantic embracing hat akimbo, a svelte hound beside her on its studded leash. Thinking of the man she awaited, poetry ranged through her mind like stray remembrances of beauty and desire. The silence of the night coaxed her voice to echo there. The canyon below was deserted; lightless; promising with deep shadow and revealing with fronds of moonlight. "Blue..." she sang. "Blue night in a blue city girl I’ve been known to accept pity...blue." Somewhere, a man spins her around in his strong arms. Dances her tightly against him; and suddenly he is skin, warm, hard, urging at her. "Blue...". I told her to choose a safe word that would signal that she wanted to stop. Dana told me the word is planter. I repeated it back to her and she confirmed. I told her I'd be over shortly. I took some comfort after hanging up, that she would have sex with me,know what I had just been through. I gathered up my ski mask, duct tape, some condoms, and a change of clothes in my to go bag.The ride over to her house was quick, and I found her door open as she had said. The house a ranch style one floor lay out was easily searched as I went from room to room heading to the bedrooms. In the kitchen I noted the name on the mail was Dana's and felt relief knowing I had the right house. I found a smaller bedroom that was dark save a lamp on the desk.There was only one more room Dana could be in and the door was open and a light next to the bed was on. The television was on at a medium volume, giving me cover noise. I pulled my ski mask on and duct tape out as I entered her room. She was laying on.
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