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Polly is like that small indulgent part of Milo amplified and personified. She was the “You should be bad and get another glass of wine” part. The “get out on that dancefloor and make an absolute fool out of yourself” part. The “they wouldn’t notice if we both snuck out and fooled around a little bit” part.
They were painfully aware of that. Especially when they went to find their best robe in their wardrobe, and found it conspicuously absent.
“...It’s on her again, isn’t it?" They sighed, and pinched the bridge of their nose. The heart symbol in their bare chest flickered orange. They had a schedule today – hours of filming and streaming, and then even more time editing highlights afterward – and they needed that robe for it. It was, after all, an essential component of the Look. Without the Look, it just wouldn’t be the same?
They thought back to the last time Polly had been around to visit them. Out drinking all night, cab back home, then rolled back into bed. Come to think of it, they hadn’t seen Polly get dropped off. Which must mean that…
They turned around, and sure enough, there was Polly, her head peeking around the door… How could they have forgotten? They looked at her with a half-formed frown.
“Polly. You haven’t been rummaging around my closet for anything, have you?”
A second passed before they got their answer.
“Noooo?” Polly’s lips curled into a smile that looked like it was meant to be innocent. Milo knew better. They rounded the corner, and sure enough, there was Polly, floating in the air on her stomach, at about waist-height to Milo. She was wearing their robe.
She floated past them, and came to rest in the air above their bed. They approached with measured steps, not wanting to let their temper get the better of them.
“You okay?” Polly looked at them with those doe-eyes of hers. “Your eyes are like, kumquat-coloured.”
Milo felt a little hot. “Why are you surprised? I keep telling you not to pinch that thing.”
Polly shrugged. Milo watched her shoulders gently disturb the delicate black silk and its intricate golden patterns…
No! I’m supposed to admonish her, not admire her.
“Look. Just take it off and give it back, and I’ll let it slide.”
Polly shook her head. “Can’t do that, babes. It’s too cold this morning.”
“Too cold? Surely you’re wearing pajamas or something under that, right?”
Polly shrugged again. Damn those shoulders, Milo thought.
“Is that… a yes, or a no?”
She pouted. “It's an ‘I’d rather not, sorry’.”
“You’re naked under there, aren’t you.”
She froze.
“I’m right, aren’t I?”
She nodded.
“Right. Normally I’d appreciate that, but in this instance—”
Before Milo could finish, Polly flew across the room like a rocket, robe billowing as she tore through the air. Instinctively, Milo gave chase, arms outstretched. Polly rounded the corner, flew past the door, and made a circuit around to the bed again. Milo’s attention was so fixed on grabbing hold of her, they hadn’t thought to account for the bed and ran straight into it, tripped and tumbled onto it in a heap.
As they rolled themselves over and sat up, Polly turned tail and zipped back over to the bed, and floated down until she came to rest on them, and firmly straddled their waist.
Milo’s brow knitted tight. “As soon as you get yourself off me, I swear I’m going to pull that robe straight off of you.”
“Is that a promise?” Polly asked, batting her lashes, and planted her hands on either side of the bed, looking down at Milo with that wide, horrid grin of hers.
Milo looked at either hand and then at that face. How could one girl have so much energy after the night she’s had? “God, I can never get anything done with you around, can’t I?” Milo practically growled; their hands grasped onto her hips, preparing to hold on tight for as long as they needed. Knowing her, this is going to take a while.
“I think we could get plenty of something done.”
Polly’s hips started rolling down against Milo’s, and then it began. Almost instantly they were breathing in through their teeth to try and compose themselves. Milo was always so wonderfully weak for those movements, impressive as they were frustrating. They already began to anticipate the end result of them being so utterly undone thanks to it. At this point, Milo was thinking this must be what it felt like to be their own obsessive fan.
“Enjoying the view, huh? I knew I looked good in this.”
“You know I can’t be seen without that,” Milo sighed, their voice shivering still with a touch of annoyance. “It’s a whole part of my brand.”
“Fuck your brand,”
Polly said. Milo gasped, shocked at the very notion.
“There’s no cameras around here. Unless you want cameras, then I think we can do something about that. I mean, as cool as the robe is, you look pretty damn good without it. Maybe your shirt, too, and your pants…”
“I am not going nude to stream live.”
“All they need to see is your pretty lil’ face, right? Nobody’ll notice.”
Polly smirks, knowing that they couldn’t stand trying to counter-argue her while she was grinding on them so hard. Instead of trying to counter with words, Milo just lets out a growling sigh and tugs down their pants as much as they could, which was made rather difficult by the paradoxically heavy weight of Polly’s rear on their lap but they managed enough to unveil their erection just before it starts to ache.
“Did I ever tell you how pretty your cock looks?” Polly grins before shuffling back just enough for it to slap against her belly.
“I believe you have, but I won’t mind hearing it again.” Milo hums, reaching down and brushing the head between her folds over and over in an attempt to throw her off. It definitely sounded like it was working, so they brushed their other hand up to her chest, palm curling around the curve of her breast, gently brushing against her nipple before going to move that robe off of her—
And then Polly promptly slaps that hand away. Curses.
“Nuh-uh. Hands where I can see them, Buster.” She tuts before grabbing the offending hand and pinning it back to the bed. Milo noticed that all that quick movement made the robe slip down her shoulders, showing even more of that chest. A sign that they were at least getting somewhere in removing it from her, plus it almost was like how they wore it, which warmed them a little more.
Just before Milo could finish that thought, Polly lowered herself down onto their cock, forcing a shivering moan to tremble from their lips and another one when she starts to rise up again once she was close to the hand they still had to steady it.
Milo grit their teeth a little as she just rides upon that upper half, craving the feeling of being fully let inside butl knowing that Polly’s just one free hand away from completely holding them down. She’s got them in check, as she might put it.
They felt themselves squeeze around the base and throb back just as hard. It felt too good to pass up, and they loosened their grip. Before they could make another move with that hand, Polly did exactly what they expected and pinned Milo fully down, with very little solace other than a clear view of her chest inches away from their face, falling out of the kimono.
“Do your worst, Ms Geist.” Milo growled, now resigned and very much looking forward to their fate. The formal nickname only seemed to rile Polly up a little more if that wicked grin was anything to go by, and boy did she fucking go for it. The way she sat down and grinded aggressively back and forth was as if she was trying to fuck them into the mattress and they swore it was working.
While Polly’s movements lulled Milo further into the sweet desperate bliss they were craving so badly, she pressed her forehead against theirs, her breath shaking as she kept them firmly under their control, riding until they couldn’t even keep their eye contact without closing tight and fluttering. Polly took this time to lower her head to his neck, making them feel their teeth graze the side of it.
“Ah, hold on, wait!” Milo pants, already feeling themselves twitch despite their objections, but they’re not objecting for what you might think.
“Lower. Just a little lower, Polly, please–Oh that’s better, darling— ”
They groan with excitement once Polly redirects her mouth away from their visible neck to their much-less-visible shoulder and bites down and she swears that the pulse of red in their eyes could blind somebody and the noise that left their lips could deafen just from the filthiness of it all.
Their hips were bucking straight up now, pushing up with their legs into her, going from accepting their fate to just straight-up sprinting towards it and she loved every bit of it. Every bit of care in them completely thrown out the window. This must be what she wants.
“Oh, that got you going, huh? Mx. Big Shot Influencer, all stuffy about their outfit until you sit on them and bite them just right,” Polly says right in their ear, making them shiver and squirm in the middle of their wild movements, making them need to hold her just much as they need release in no time at all.
Polly brushes a lock of hair from in front of Milo’s face and pressed her forehead against theirs, those hands now resting around the back of Milo’s neck instead of their hands, now twitching and grabbing at the sheets for a moment.
“Well go on, go fuckin nuts for me Boo, let it out. Let it out . ”
Polly breathes with a hint of an excited shake as she anticipates Milo finally coming undone. The red light in their eyes refracted through her grinning face as their newly freed hands slid under the silk to sink their nails into those irresistibly soft curves, holding them in place as both of their hips bounced and bucked up erratically until they came hard inside.
For a moment, Milo tried to push up with their legs but they were too busy shaking to do much of anything, instead just weakly jutting up their hips while their contrastingly strong orgasm shudders out from them and into her, each burst of it making Polly giggle and moan out— absolute music to their ears, as she slowly rocks her hips back and forth nearing the end, coaxing every last plentiful drop and as much deliciously naughty noises from Milo as she could, until their vocal cords strained.
As much as they denied it initially, Milo needed this. God did they need this. After day in and day out of making content and only having time to rest that other night, maybe what they really wanted to take that edge off was some good old fashioned hard—
Before Milo could even start that thought let alone finish it, Polly phased away from their lap, sans robe, letting it fall onto their chest and making them bat at it like a cat and ball of yarn trying not to get their own mess on it before flinging to their side, while Polly reappears at the other, hands behind her head.
“Aah, that’s the good stuff. I could tell you needed to bang out that frustration. I just got a Sixth Sense for that sort of thing. No need to thank me.” She says all satisfied, as if she hasn’t almost ruined their best statement piece with their own seed or god forbid whatever ghostly essence she could make.
“Well that saves me the trouble,” Milo snarks back between breaths, chest heaving from all that sudden activity. As admittedly very nice as that was, Milo had forgotten to admonish them until now.
“Polly,” Milo speaks up, resting their hand over their face, partly to express disappointment but also out of exhaustion.
“Mm-hmm?”
“… Do I have to buy you a robe just so you can stop stealing mine whenever you’re around?”
“Oh my god, really?”
“Well, if it would stop you wearing mine, I’m highly considering—“
“And then we can both wear these robes while we bang?”
Don’t you dare put that amazing idea in my head you wonderful, horrible woman, because I will do it.
“Well in any case, I’ve had my fun with this, you can put it back on now.” Polly sighs, giving the hastily folded robe a pat before Milo takes a good long look at it.
“On second thought,” Milo hummed aloud, looking at it and thankfully not seeing any obvious stains, even though they’ll probably wash this later anyway. Just to be safe. “I’ll let you wear it. Just this once, okay?” Milo hands it back to her ghostly hands.
“Oh shit, for real?” Polly’s eyes widen as she looks at the bundle of luxuriously patterned silk in her hands, this time with express permission to wear it. “But like, what about your ‘brand’ or whatever?” She asks while Milo sits up and lifts their weary, sweaty body up from their bed.
“Darling,” Milo scoffs before they over their shoulder, a smile growing on their face. “Fuck my brand.”
Polly gasped almost as loud as Milo did earlier. In almost any other circumstance they would never, ever say those words even as a joke, yet after all that they felt like they had to. It was scandalising yet also… Exhilarating at the same time, somehow.
“Well, I’m off to take a shower. Just… Don’t get anything else on that thing while I’m gone, got it?”
“I won’t, no need to worry… You won’t mind if I check in on you while you're in there, right? Maybe help wash your back?”
“Polly, please don’t make me more late than I already am.”
Milo said before stepping into the bathroom, door still tentatively unlocked despite their objections. Satisfied with making Milo’s day and gaining Robe Privileges, Polly lays back, leaning in and taking in the robe’s scent of lavender before letting out a deep sigh. “Aaah. Hell yeah, that’s good.”