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Showing posts with label quickie. Show all posts
Showing posts with label quickie. Show all posts

FFF-Fixed

Word Limit = 250

Keyword = a synonym for "fixed" but not "fixed" itself

Extra Credit = Include a link to your favorite TUMBLR (besides mine)

25 Bonus Words can be earned by having an orgasm within 60 min of writing your entry (be honest)

Enjoy
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He smiled as he locked the door behind him, tossing the keys in the air and deftly catching them behind his back. He could already feel the stress of the day being carried away on the breeze and sun of the warm February afternoon.  The call came as he worked on the Anderson account, correcting mistakes his assistant made the night before.



“Go home,” Peterson has said, “We’ll pick it all up tomorrow.”


“No problem!” he said to himself as he loosened his tie.  He considered calling home about the afternoon off, but decided that a surprise might be in order.

He stopped at the corner and picked up some Thai noodles for dinner. There would need to eat something after they were done and he felt his cock grow harder and press against his slacks as he paid the beautiful cashier $12 in exchange for the bag.

“Expecting something?” she asked, looked, and giggled.  His mood was so bright that he grabbed his junk and blurted out, “I’m going home early to surprise my wife.”

“Lucky girl.” He heard her say as the bell on the door jangled his good-bye.

He paused to buy a paper, then unlocked the glass doors and bound up the stairs of the Victorian walk-up.

She was bare naked on the kitchen floor as he opened the door, a string of clothes guiding him to her.

Afterwards, he rolled off and said set a plate for her, “Your mom makes the best noodles ever.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“Maybe plumbing school was a good investment after all,” he thought as he looked down at the incredible blonde sucking his cock. The tile of the kitchen gave him chills, but when she looked up at him, her pink lips wrapped around his hard shaft, he didn’t mind. He wasn’t allowed to touch her, his hands were too greasy and she didn’t have time to shower before her husband came home, so he just laid back and enjoyed it.



“You saved my life,” she said, as he cleared the disposal clogged with yet another failed attempt at cooking dinner. “I can’t afford to pay you,” she said with a quiver, “I spent my money on the turkey I just ruined.”



He looked around the room, expecting a camera crew hop out at any moment, this was too much like Penthouse letters and he couldn’t believe it was happening.



She released his cock and crawled up, impaling herself, bouncing up and down.  Still not allowed to touch, she got herself off with her fingers and then he exploded inside her as she begged.



He thought nothing of it for months, never mentioning it to his wife or business partner until the letter from the attorney arrived.  He read the text of the paternity suit and laughed.  He pulled out his medical file and put copies of the payment for his vasectomy in the return envelope.



“What’s so funny?” His wife asked.



“Just a letter from someone who couldn’t pay their bill.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn't get a chance to early my bonus words.  I wrote this during my afternoon break at work and the office manager kept coming but to test the phones and the new keys that go along with the new locks installed over the weekend.  With the door opening every 2 minutes, I didn't dare try to earn them. Not that she would mind, for an office manager she's pretty cool and kind of flirty, so maybe, well...

I rarely pick favorites, but the idea for the 2nd story was my first thought when I picked the word "Fixed."  An on-line friend said she only flirted guys who had been snipped, so I gave her my doctor's name and offered so send the invoice.   It all came together in my head as i wrote the first one.  

The first one cracked me up.  My dark side wanted him to walk in on her fucking someone else, but then I remembered I promised to be happier this week, so I decided to make her mom the cashier at the Thai food place on the corner.  Given a few more words, maybe mom would have closed the shop early.  LOL.

I liked them both, I hope you did too.  

Now go tell your friends that it's time to get happy and write!!!  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
OK, I found this and earned my bonus words, but since my two stories were already completed, I added one more, just 25 words.



He came inside her as the tile cut her bare back, The door opened.  “Dang, I’ve got  to get that lock fixed.”
  
I had a great time writing this week.  As you leave your links above, please drop a comment in to comment box.

 

Happy to help

I join the class every Thursday, right after roll call and just before the final bell.  I wave to the kids, smile at the teacher, and take my place at the large table in the back of the room.  I see the assignments laid out, coloring today, a playful collection of "greater than/less than" pictures comparing apples, clowns, puppies, and fish.

We barely make eye contact with each other.  I've been doing this long enough that she need not worry about me.  The kids know to listen, she knows I am there, happy to help.  5 kids at a time rotate through, and we color and laugh and laugh and review the lesson.  "Are there more puppies or fish?" I ask, and they giggle and answer and we try again.  Another batch, the same jokes, the same funny faces from them and from me, but it doesn't get old.  Out of the corner of my eye I see her smiling at me, but when I catch her, she blushes and turns away.

Today I catch her as she sits in the middle of the rainbow rug, her pedicured feet peeking out from under the long flowery skirt she was instructed to wear in an e-mail the night before.  Her choice of panties was also dictated, but everything else was left to her and she highlighted her frame beautifully in a soft, but snug sweater with a pink satin bra underneath.

Another group cycles through and my time in the class is drawing to a close.  The last group begins and I start to clean up as they finish each page.  Soon the tables are cleared, the crayons are stacked, the wipes are put away, and the rainbow rug is filled with 25 eager faces, ready for recess.

I gather my kids for one last high-5 as the bell rings and the 5th grade chaperon leads them to the play yard.

Now she stares at me, her eyes sparkling as she extends her hand.  Her skin is soft and warm as we walk through the door, closing it behind us.  She turns to the wall and lifts her skirt, tying the lose fabric in a soft knot to allow her hands to be free.  With one hand on the wall for support, the other reaches back and pulls the damp fabric out of the way.

She is pure heaven inside.  Tight and young, but not virginal, eager, but not slutty, subservient, but not broken.

We begin to move, silent, urgent, needful, intimate.

She gasps and I release and we continue as the aftershocks double, then triple her pleasure.  Reaching inside, I scoop the wetness and paint her loins with our mingled wet.  Smoothing the fabric to cover her, I caress gently and then re-adjust her skirt for her.  She has, and knows, her place, and I have mine.

She stand, eyes down, until I lift her chin with a finger and kiss her tenderly.

"Thank you for being in class today." she whispers sincerely.

"I'm always happy to help."

The children are returning and I give more waves, high-5s and knuckle bumps.  The next volunteer walks in with them, excited to do parts of speech or counting, but that is all they will do, and I smile at the thought.

FFF- 8/5 - Upstairs

80-160
...strangled cry....
“What?” I leaned in to hear her over the band, but it was pointless.

“frum-ndy” She yelled again.

She saw my eyes moving down.  “Stop staring at them!!” She slapped me on the shoulder and blushed, though I wasn’t sure if she was mad or flirting.
.  
Risking rejection and honor, my body took charge and I took her by the hand. “Do you want to go upstairs?”

I couldn’t believe what was happening. I felt her sweaty palm in mine as we wove through the crowd.  The bass beat shook the floor as she unbuckled my jeans and did the same to her own.  

She pressed back against me quicker than I expected.  

“Oh fuck!” she gave a strangled cry and quivered.  

Moments later, as the music throbbed, I gave the same response and filled her in time with the music.  

“Thanks Cindy.” I pulled her close.

She turned, glaring.  “It’s MINDY!!”

My cheek was red for a week.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tense and nervous, can’t relax”  The lyrics filled my head.  She cornered me after weeks of flirting.  Her painted-on jeans and hippy-girl t-shirt left little to my imagination.  I followed as fast as I could, scared, fearing discovery and the hell-fire that would ensue, the epic level shit hitting the world’s largest fan.  My feet tripped as she pulled me through the door.

She turned and pulled my jeans to my knees engulfing me in one swallow.  

“Are you ready for this?”  she was sinister in look and tone as she stood, leaving her clothes gathered at her ankles.  

“Do it!” she commanded.

She braced herself against the narrow walls, forcing me loudly against the flimsy door.  

We moved and climaxed as in heat until the pounding on the door was too loud to ignore.

“Did you fuck her?”  The strangled cry echoed through the house.  

“Who is that?” I asked, suddenly ashamed.

She kissed me hard, “My girlfriend.  RUN!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rushed, hurried, instinctive, and most definitely upstairs for some reason.  This is not tender, or planned, or even vaguely consensual on his part.  This is a woman in charge.  I never saw this as him doing her, it was always her show to command and control. 

The first one is based, loosely, on a real life even where I met a beautiful blond, danced with her all night, and then, when I went to pick her up for our first real date (this happened freshmen year at college), I introduced myself to her dad and called him by a completely wrong name.  She had told me her name in the college dance hall and written down her first name and phone number.

I left as quick as I could while trying to patch things up with whats-her-name....  It was our only date.

The second one came to mind first, a rebellion fuck, a leap to the other team, a shot back at a crumbling relationship, or maybe a self-willed attempt to break free.  I don't know, but for me, this picture screamed 'lesbian break-up sex."  And not the good kind.

As usual, go to Panser's house while he's gone and use his shower and nice towels, and then leave a link for your own story....
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