the breakfast table in her nightgown and slippers, fully covered, according to her father’s demands. She sits down, and eats eggs, bacon and biscuits lathered in honey without a word spoken between herself and her parents, also at the table.
Her father says once, “Pass the honey,” but doesn’t direct it at anyone in particular rather to whomever can deliver the request.
Her mother does.
Emma walks back to her bedroom, gets dressed, gets in the family Taurus, rides with her mother to church, comes home, eats buttermilk fried chicken, boiled squash with a hint of onion lathered in butter, black-eyed peas doused with ketchup and buttermilk cornbread for lunch.
Emma does the dishes while her mother and father go down for a nap, then she goes to her room, stretches out on her bed, and wonders if Josh will arrive at the barn in the evening for her the one kiss she has planned.
Emma reaches under her dress and up to the skin of her bare stomach, pulling at it, contemplating the possibility of another stomach tingling affair.
Just one kiss – that’s all.
But wait, no. She thinks she will want him too bad to stop at one kiss. She hasn't done her thing in months, and thinks she should try to take some of the edge off. If she has already fucked herself, perhaps she will not want to fuck Josh. She doesn't want to fuck herself, though. Since Michael, she has wanted a man. Her finger won't quite do.
Emma cans her room. She sees her desk in the corner.
Emma pulls up her dress. She pulls her bra over her breasts and up around her chest. She licks her thumbs, getting them dripping wet, and starts circling them around her nipples.
"Michael," she whispers.
Only seconds pass before she is dripping wet with a throbbing button. She gets up from the bed and takes a pillow with her to the desk. Emma wraps the pillow around the corner of the desk and straddles it, so that the pillow-covered corner jabs into her pussy with a softened blow.
"Ahhh," she says, as she begins thrusting against the desk corner.
"Ah, ah, ah," she says with each thrust.
On the fourth one her abdominal muscles ripples and her groin contracts as she comes all over the pillow.
"Michael," she says.
At the church service that evening, Emma has her hair tucked neatly behind her ears with bobby pens, and a freshly ironed yellow dress on. Emma sees Judith sitting with her daughter two rows behind her to the right. Emma glances back every few minutes to see if Josh is there with her, but he isn’t.
No Josh, just Judith.
Emma looks away quickly before Judith sees her looking. But within a minute Emma looks back. She and Judith make eye contact once, and Judith smiles, but she is holding Marybelle in her lap and seems unconcerned with the stare as a female soloist belts out verses to a hymn, How Great Thou Art .
When her father leads a prayer after the song, Emma stares through the stained glass windows behind him, straining to see hints of a fading light outside. Emma thinks about Michael throughout the service, standing when others stand, and saying “Amen” when others say Amen, but she is wondering if Josh will meet her.
She mouths the words in a low breathy voice to what used to be one of her favorite hymns; Jesus is Tenderly Calling You Home.
Jesus is tenderly calling you home
Calling today, calling today
Why from the sunshine of love will you roam,
Farther and farther away?
In the latter part of the service the palms of Emma’s hands are sweating, and her neck is flushed and splotchy. Her mother notices, fanning Emma with an open hymnal.
Emma thinks perhaps it is the temperature in the un-air conditioned sanctuary. The tall A-frame ceiling draws heat to the top of the church and a breeze blows softly through the opened stained glass windows lining the sides, but she is hot, nonetheless.
When her father calls in the last verse of Just as I Am for the snakes to be fetched by the deacons, Emma rises with Judith, sitting a few
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