Received

The beauty she possessed was vivid in her pale skin, in her powerful lavender eyes; it resonated in the curls of her deep-red hair, it poured from her naturally smiling lips. It followed the curves of her thin body, it kept her back a straight line. It made her an angel to her audience. Every breath, every shift of her delicateness, was absorbed by fascinated faces. In the long minutes that the program kept her on stage, she was lost.

"You looked great out there," her mother praised as she began to untie her child's shoes. She massaged the cramps from the bottom of her daughter's feet.

"Mama, it doesn't matter. He wasn't here," she sulked, her arms crossed in disappointment.

"Anita, it's not on purpose. You know he's busy," her hand reached out and gently parted her flesh and blood's strained emotion. She led Anita to a chair in front of a sparkling mirror and released the full thickness of hair from a tight, highly classical bun. Anita was quiet as her mother picked out multiple hair pins. She was flushed with anger when they eyes met.

-

Her mother let her take a taxi. She didn't want to go home, not just yet. The inside of the yellow cab smelled like cabbage and the seats were a dark purple, stuffed with lumpy material that was a light tan in color, seen peeking out of a tiny tear on her left side. She was cautious in handing her fare and eager to grab her bag and escape.

Anita was cold in her stockings and leotard, although she was bundled in layers and topped with a thick scarf and a snug hat. She wanted to watch the children play, she wanted to breathe in the stinging air. She wanted to meet a stranger and spend a few moments in their arms. She wanted to risk her life, just for one night.

-

"What the hell, Mary? Why would you let her go out on her own?" His voice was more sad than angry.

"Will, she's twenty years old. She was upset you didn't make it. I wasn't going to drag her home," her mother sighed. "I wasn't going to make her stay in, not on this night."

"Damn it," he cursed softly. She could hear the connection scratch.

"Baby, when are you coming home?" Mary's voice was now tender, soft and gentle with her own sorrow.

"Soon. I love you. Tell Anita I'm sorry," he hung up after she received his affection. Mary looked at the phone and weighed it in her hand before she placed it back in the answering machine.

-

She found a bench that wasn't covered in snow and sat down, her posture automatically, strictly, correct. The end of her spine was placed on the very edge of the last wooden planks. Anita watched not the people passing by but instead the cars that weaved through their own traffic. She listened to their honks, their screeches to suddenly halt, and speed up once the light turned green. There was a horrible dripping down the back of her throat, there was an annoyance in her sinuses, but she loved every moment of the scene playing out in front of her.

She drank from the water bottle she bought on the corner store with the money she stuffed in her coat pocket. It was a long wait until her thirst was satisfied. Her phone went off with a strong vibration. She scooped it from the confines of her bag and saw her mother's loving face.

"Hi, Mama..."

"It's late."

"I'm sorry, Mama. I'll come home now..."

"I love you, Anita," she said sweetly, yet calm and cool.

"Oh, Mama," Anita shook her head slowly, "I love you, too."

The walk home was quick, the scenery fast-paced, the world a bit warmer than it was before. There was a rushing in her ears and a deep pink on her face. There was no peace around her, or within her. There was only the tall buildings and looming sky that loomed over her, caressing her until her mother's embrace presented itself as soon as she stepped through the doorway. The heat fogged her mind and she smiled.

-

Mary closed her door and settled herself in the covers. She watched her wedding ring glisten as she held her hand out in the air. She smiled and opened the side table's lowest drawer, visions of her husband filling her head. She closed her eyes and imagined she was licking his dick, rather than her neon colored toy. Her nipples grew hard and she moved her hand from her breast, down her slim torso to the triangle of her pelvis.

Of course she was already wet. She loved the fullness in her mouth, almost matching that of Will's. She turned the vibration on low as she ran it across her chest. Mary slipped her finger in between her plump lips and started to make long strokes up and down her clitoris. Her moan was gentle with pleasure. She licked her lips as she squeezed out some aid and let her hand spread it around before she brought the dildo between her legs.

She slipped it in and kept it there for a moment, letting herself wrap around the deliciousness of its girth. She pulled it out, teasing herself and she arched her back in small pleasure. She took it eagerly this time and was quick to begin rocking her hips. She reached another hand down and turned the vibration on medium. She moaned, the entire length deep inside her with every thrust of her wrist.

She thought of the way her husband would fuck her on the night he came back to their bed. It wasn't just love, it was passion, it was a growing rhythm of satisfaction that he needed, and she was more than begging to losing herself in it. He'd bite, he'd make bruises and he'd make sure he fucked her till she shook and crumbled in his hands. Mary turned the vibration on high and she whimpered as she started twisting it, driving it in and out of her, hard, harder. Her breath was harsh and her body began to flush as she started rubbing her clit. Her toes curled and she screamed out Will's name in her pillow as she climaxed.

-

Anita took her hand out from beneath her panties. She wiped her fingers on the pants that she kicked off her bed.