A Brush With Success by Lu

A Brush With Success
by Lu

The very first thought that Parker had upon waking was I need to pee. She knew before even opening her eyes that she was in unfamiliar surroundings. With the nicotine, liquor and undeniable scent of sex blanketing the room, disorientation gave way to the realization that she was indeed not in her own bed. Lifting her heavy lids, she peered at the concert poster of some local band that she had never heard of, and the pile of stuffed animals on the toddler race car bed beside the mattress she was lying on. Counting the legs on the fluorescent green caterpillar, no doubt won at some cheesy carnival game, she wondered what time it was but didn't dare turn over to seek out a clock.

He was behind her, his breathing still heavy with sleep. She listened to her own breathing, concentrating on matching her rhythm, the rise and fall of her chest, to his. Inhaling deep as he did and exhaling in shorter counts as the rain tapped out its faint pit pit pat, pit pit pat against the bedroom window. She swallowed hard and hoped he didn't hear that. God, it felt like something had died in her mouth--her saliva sour and metallic. Parker carefully brought her index finger up to her eye and rubbed the crusty sleep out of the corner. She repeated the same with her other eye and wondered how much mascara had smeared off during the night. She swiped her middle finger underneath each eye in the hopes of making herself look less like a raccoon. God, I really have to pee.

She slowly, quietly, smoothed her hair down. She was suddenly aware of the stickiness between her legs and desperately tried to remember the last time she saw her underwear. As she lay there, she plotted each step of her mission. She hoped they weren't buried somewhere, and she would be able to locate them before he woke up. She prayed he wouldn't wake just as she was walking out and watch her ass and the pockets of cellulite on the back of her thighs jiggling as she left the room. Oh God.

Clinging to the right side of the bed, she slid a little further over and peered over the side. There they were! Thank you, sweet Jesus. Parker continued to plot her strategy… each move must be deliberate, quiet and smooth. She took a deep breath, gently eased her legs out from underneath the covers, feet seeking the carpet. Her toes found and clutched the balled-up black underwear, scooting them within her reach.

With the panties in her right hand, she held her breath and slowly, carefully, rose from the mattress. With her back to him, she slid the panties up over her hips. Whew! She crossed her arms tightly across her breasts and turned towards him. His back was to her and his breathing continued, deep and heavy, his nose whistling now each time he inhaled. Across the room, she caught her reflection in the mirror on the dresser. Actually, her hair didn't look that bad. As she returned her gaze to him, to his back, to a really hideous mole on his right shoulder and his head, with the thinning hair, resting on the pillow. She felt paralyzed. Taking even one step seemed impossible, but at the same time, she acknowledged that every moment she stood there contemplating her journey was another moment closer to him waking. My bladder is going to burst.

She gingerly made her way around her side of the bed and moved along its foot, pausing to grab his T-shirt and slip it on. She untucked her hair from the back of the shirt, and made her way to the left side--his side. She didn't dare glance in his direction. Almost there. She had to resist the urge to make a mad dash for the door. As she inched silently past him, her hand on the doorknob, he sighed.

"Hey, beautiful."

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lu is a thirtysomething single mama to two incredible daughters, and a full-time student pursuing her fantasy of being a sexy, full of mystique librarian. You can find out more about me and my fantabulous life at www.skiptomylu.typepad.com.