tell me i'm your national anthem
By: Lindsey
Summary: Bad girls do it well.
Disclaimer: I do not own Pretty Little Liars.
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Imagine this:
Tar black fingernails trace sins down your neck, your chest, further further further-
Fingers find that spot, a moan escapes your lips, somewhere a girl chuckles, but its hard to concentrate on anything except the liquid gold running though your veins.
You're pathetic, she whispers in your ear.
Good thing you can't see me, you think.
She kisses you, lips warm and wet, (so wet) and you reach your breaking point.
You're still shaking when she slams the door, the sound of her high heels fading away slowly.
.
She has you up against the shower wall of the girl's locker room, two fingers sliding in-out, in-out, one hand fisting your hair.
Stop, you say, but the command falls straight to the ground (along with your pride) because she's Jenna fucking Marshall, and she makes the rules around here.
Your eyes are shut tight, yet somehow you just know she wears a smirk on her face.
She loves seeing (metaphorically speaking of course) you break like this, practically falling apart in her hands.
Once upon a time, you called the shots. You can't seem to remember when the tables turned, but then again you can't really remember much at all with her hands doing that to you.
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She corners you at school, blocks your only way out with her cane.
Wanna go to the mall later?
No thanks, -blink twitch swallow-
Why not?
(I know what you'll do to me) I have homework.
You can see your reflection in her sunglasses, and you don't think you've ever looked this nervous in your life.
That's okay. Maybe next time. (wipe that smirk off you arrogant bitch)
Sure.
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The two of you are in an empty classroom after school. You're supposed to be working on a project but then again, when have either of you followed the rules?
Her back is facing you, dress accentuating all her curves, making your eyes travel updownup.
You decide to make the best of the situation.
Slowly, you walk over to her and snake your arms around her waist.
Your lips go to her shoulder, neck, then earlobe.
Your turn, you whisper, hand already starting to snake up her skirt.
She tries to hide the shiver that creeps up her spine, but you catch it. (You want to catch it and never let it go)
Your fingers sneak under her panties before she can move, and she instantly presses her back further against you. A smirk graces your lips, how you've missed it so.
She moans, low and sultry and hothothot, her hands making bruises against your thighs.
As soon as it starts, its over, and she's unraveling right before you, threads coming apart at the seams. You wish it could have lasted longer, you were enjoying it but-
You slam the door before she even stops shaking.
Too bad you're not wearing heels.
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fin
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AN: Sorry this was so short, I'm trying out the whole, "fragmented, ee cummings style" of writing. Also, I never said who the main character was. I figured I'd leave that to you guys' imaginations. ;)