Merry Christmas My FFFFFs
(Fellow Flash Fiction Friday Fanatics)It's too late now, but I guess we should have gone for the "End of the World" theme to celebrate the Mayan Calendar ending sometime this afternoon. But, I'm in more of a Christmas mood than a "sell my possessions and sit on the mountain top" kind of mood.I had fun writing all three of these. I hope you did too. I'm putting the links up top this week because my #3 is written in verse, it's too long, and would push your wonderful names to far down the page to ever see the light of day. And remember, it's never to late to add your entry!! Hours, Days, Weeks later, if the mood strikes, WRITE!!
This weeks' challenge was:Prompt Word = UnexpectedWord Count = 200 (same as my Christmas budget)Extra Credit = Use more than one picture... And here are all the wonderful players!!
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The cold wind swirled around the pillars of the train station and down the back of his coat. His bare fingers, wrapped around the briefcase handle, froze and he cursed himself for losing his gloves. He walked home in the dark, the severance notice in his pocket, and the overdrawn credit cards in his wallet. The snow crunched underneath his thin soled shoes and the gray slush slid between his sock and the cheap leather and he felt it pool under his instep, creating a cold puddle that chilled his soul. The layoff had not been completely unexpected, but the timing could not have been worse. What kind of cold-hearted bastards layoff 200 people the Monday before Christmas?
He thought about his wife, the disappointment that would drip from every word, the look in her eyes, and the tone in her body language. He knew a different job would come along soon, but the attitude would always be the same.
He thought about his wife as he trudged up the stairs to the four-story walk-up, and he started to smile. Home could wait, bad news could wait, he had a tree to decorate and an unwrapped gift waiting for him. (200/200)
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She stood tall, trying to keep her back straight in the weight off her wrists as she hummed a little Christmas song that she learned as a child. She loved Christmas time, the tinsel, the bows, the short little plaid skirts and the nipple clamps that twinkled in the snow. She giggled to herself as she shifted her weight on her high-heeled shoes. She stood quietly waiting, doing what he had commanded her to do, to stand there and be pretty.
She heard the door open downstairs and her giggle changed to a sigh. She clenched inside, the anticipation was the most delicious part, and her arousal, the intensity of her arousal, was always a bit unexpected. She heard his voice at the bottom of the landing, and clenched again and allowed a small orgasm to tremble through her pelvis, dance around the small of her back, race up her spine, wrap around her chest making her nipples stand erect and escape out through her throat with a wispy gasp.
He invited them all to come upstairs. She looked around the room and caught the eyes of the other decorations, shared a smile, then stood tall. Yes, she loved Christmas. (200/200)
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‘Twas the night before Christmas
Alone in the house
Nothing was stirring
She sat like a mouse.
The man in the suit
Just stood there and stared.
As his sweet little something
Knealt and prepared.
The riding crop glistened
And his boots were so black
She hoped on her hiney
That crop he would crack.
She added the collar
To her Christmas list
And now the long chain
Was held in his fist.
She quivered and groaned
While the fire was merry
She hoped as a gift
He’d take her sweet cherry.
Naughty or nice?
He said with a wink,
The forced her to crawl
And make him a drink.
He slurped down the eggnog
The disgusting old drink
But of his thick jism,
It did make her think.
Was Ms. Clause serviced
While riding the sled?
Or did he have elves
For giving him head.
She hoped he would give her
Wrists tied in a bow
Then blowing his load
Up the chimney he’d go.
He tugged on the chain
Made her whimper and moan
“Don’t make horny Santa,
Do Christmas alone”
She crawled to his lap
But his pants were too tight
“If we can’t get them off,
It will be a long night.
She giggled and fiddled
With his big silver buckle
While he reached down between
And rubbed with a knuckle.
“Oh my, you are wet,
You really are ready.
But he was a noodle,
Like real bad spaghetti.
Come on Dear old Santa
Don’t let it be so
Then she had an idea,
She’d give it a go.
The collar was tight
On the old fat man’s neck
But when they were done
The place was a wreck.
She love the tall boots
And the crop in her hand
Who would have thought
That she’d be the man.
She whipped him
And beat him
And called him
By name
And when she abused him
He finally came.
She unleashed the collar
To his team gave a whistle
And she realized his dick
Tasted something like gristle.
Christmas for her
Was never the same
And when she was horny
She called out his name.
Beware what you wish for.
But it’s nice to be naughty
‘Specially when you
Are the Christmas tale hottie.
x
