Finally Fucked

(Courtesy of another hot contest by Trollop with a Laptop, Alison Tyler)

Alison loves the word FUCK. So she challenged us, her readers, to a flash contest. The word FUCK must be used in the title, and it seemed like as many times as possible in the story.

Here was my contribution.

Thanks again Ali, for bringing out the FUCK in all of us.

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“Hi.”

It was instant – the desperate desire to tear his clothes off, to be fucked until I didn’t know my name.

Our kiss was hard, electric. His teeth grasped my bottom lip, his hand going to my braless chest and my erect nipples.

“Fuck me.” I moaned into his ear, hands wandering to his zipper. He shook his head. We weren’t alone. His mother was in town, and staying with him, as damned inconvenient as that was. He led me inside by the hand. I smiled at his mom, hugged her hello. Over her shoulder I mouthed “Fuck me.” He shrugged his shoulders, helpless.

We sat on the sofa, chatting about inane everyday topics, but my mind wasn’t focused on conversation. He stroked my bare leg, his touch sending spirals of heat through my body. My pussy clenched, tingling with need. I stood up. “Anyone for a refill?” I gestured to our empty wine glasses.

I called for help with the corkscrew. As he entered the kitchen, I threw myself at him, falling to my knees and unzipping him in one smooth movement. I took his cock out and placed it in my mouth. Sucked once, sucked twice. I looked up at him.

“Fuck me.” I stroked his hard on, licking at the tip with my tongue, begging with my eyes. My hand was under my skirt, and my scent filled the kitchen.

He hauled me to my feet, bending me over the sink.

“Fuck you.”

"Finally."


©2008

haunted moon

Last night,
I gazed at the moon,
the centre of a
luminescent rainbow in the clouds,
and thought of you,
wherever you were.

Did you see it?

Did you think of me?

I stood alone,
yet felt your arms around me;
felt your moist breath
on my bare neck.

Did you feel me?

My ear tingled with
the memory of
whispered passions.

Did you hear me?

Phantom lips
tracked kisses
down to my shoulder.

A cool breeze skipped
across my heated breasts,
causing my nipples
to stand erect,
as your touch has done
so many times before.
I imagined it was a gift
from you.

I stood and gazed
at the haunted moon,


And I ached to be with you.





©Miz Angell 2008

Work place flash: Untitled (250 words)

Ok - this one is definately FICTION. Yes, I am the only woman in a male dominated workplace, but the guys here are not even close to hard bodies, or sexy.

And I always wear underwear to work....*wink*

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It’s hard working where I do. Being the only woman in a company of hot, sweaty, grease covered men really taxes ones … patience. *grin* It’s not easy to behave, sitting at my desk while they parade by, their coveralls pulled halfway down by lunch, showing off their ripped bodies covered in sweat from hauling transmissions around.

It’s not easy to sit across from my boss, his deep blue eyes twinkling as words like dipstick, lube, shaft, moisture, and ram - the truck of course - fall from his beautiful lips. He knows what he’s doing. He knows the type of girl I am – the type who appreciates the male form, the type who is in full acceptance of her sexuality.

The type of girl that today isn’t wearing underwear under her skirt.

He’s making me squirm, and he knows it. His hot gaze burns a hole through my shirt. I know he can see my nipples poking through the thin material. My pussy is so wet that I can’t get up without leaving a trail on my leather chair. So until he leaves, I’m stuck where I am.

My hand travels down to pull up the material that is the only barrier between myself and release. I pull my chair in closer to the desk, so that he can’t see what’s going on. But by the smile on his face, he doesn’t have to. Slowly, my thighs part. My fingers skip across my clit, and I almost moan out loud.

Five o’clock can’t come soon enough.

And neither can I.


©2008