FFF #9

Waiting

The wind wrapped the silk around her body, trailing behind with her windblown hair. She stood on the deck with the warm body of his cat curled in her arm, listening to the waves breaking below, the gentle hiss as water slid back over sand to the sea. The starlight lit the waves and she could almost see his boat. It was like this when a storm was coming in. He’d explained why the wind was in her face, later at her back. Something about weather – one of the myriad things he needed to know.

They’d been out – not far, she could still see land – he sat in the corner of the cockpit giving her a turn at the wheel. She’d tried to keep the course, but going back and forth, never quite on it. He didn’t seem to be paying attention. He’d pulled out his knife and cut off a length of a jib sheet – it was never a rope – it was a sheet, a line or a hundred other names sailors had for rope. He’d pulled out a marlinspike and worked one end into a ball – a turk’s head he called it. He reached over and swatted her on the seat of her shorts.

“Ow – that hurt”

She rubbed herself self consciously. He stood behind her, spun her gently around. She looked into his confident blue eyes, smiling as he bent down to kiss her.

“Next time steer where I tell you”

Oh God, please come back.

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Sorry ths is late - on weekends where I have back-to-back races it is really hard to make 6 PM Saturday - if I dont get it done very early Friday (~0100) it just wont get done until late Sunday at best.

Originally this was going to have a very different tone, but it was just too long. I wonder about the rest of you guys - do you wind up making several passes at this or is it just me?

Anyway - my thanks to my compadres for keeping this up.

MfM 33

Together

Lying next to me
Silky skin slipping under my fingertip
Soft brown eyes holding me
Your scent, your hair, the curve of your breasts,
Your body against me
Pleasing me beyond words
Your gentle southern voice
"Daddy - I'm a good girl for you"

Our arms, our bodies entwined
Your lips on mine, full, moist, wanting
I can only surrender to you.
I close my eyes
Sensing your warmth,
My fingers stretch to touch your core
Feeling your moisture,
Your breath quickens
Knowing your arousal
I play you like the beautiful instrument you are

Waiting for the moment you give voice
To the music within.

You lay back
spent
done
complete
the lazy smile, eyes slightly open.
"Ummmmm... Daddy?"

I smile and reach to pull you into my arms again.

FFF #8

Patrol Afternoon

Impudent would have been my description. She stood there daring me, hands on her hips, ash blond hair in a pony tail, the rose-colored skirt flouncing around her as she twisted her hips back and forth. She looked up at me, eyes sparkling, lips forming a pouty smile. Most girls found me imposing. She acted like I was her plaything.

“What’s the matter, officer. Cat got your tongue?”

She smirked – I swear she smirked.

“You cant make us leave”

There was no us – the other girls had run behind the barricades squealing as soon as I stepped over to them. Sergeant NumbNuts told me to keep the area clear, and it would stay clear.

“Miss, sorry but you’ll have to get behind the fences like everyone else”

You cant make me”

The thought of smacking her with my baton was appealing, but I thought better of it. Sure as hell I’d be on the six o’clock news – “Police brutally beat spectators at concert today”

“For the last time, Miss – move”

“No”

I heard the sirens of the escort. Oh hell – I reached over, picked her up and threw her over my shoulder. I stood holding her while the bikes and limousines passed, then carried her over to the cruiser. The wind kept blowing her skirt in my face. DAMN she smelled nice. I reached up and swatted her butt, then dumped my wife in the back seat and slammed the door. I decided to take the long way to headquarters.

Poetry I stumbled across

I seldom read something so good it brings tears to my eyes, but I thought these two were that good...

http://www.writingroom.com/viewwriting/Starlingpoet/i-picked-up-your-guitar

http://www.writingroom.com/viewwriting/Starlingpoet/Your-words

Flash Friday Fiction # 8 - Ready Set Go

Cancel this - casey surprised us all by getting on line from England. Please look at her blog http://www.caseymorgan.org/2009/06/3f-8-is-afoot/ for this week's info.

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OK - I'm doing this because casey is enjoying England and presumably off-net.
Write a 250 word story (erotic, tgi-oriented, or whatever) Start anytime Friday, finish by 6pm PDT Saturday. Try to include the keywords (wildcards) below. Post the link to your story in the comments below and/or on Twitter (Microfantasy monday always includes them in the announcement post, and it makes things a little easier since they're all in one place)

Thus far, the usual suspects:
@WorldOfRafi
@vanimp
@thursdays_child
@naughtyabby
@caseydamnmorgan
@spankinresource
@sabrinamorgan
and of course, yours truly, @PapaTomLA

The keywords are

1. Silk (moi)
2. Rope (@vanimp)
3. Sand (@WorldOfRafi)

Thanks to everyone in advance

Microfantasy Monday #32

Control

On all fours, face low, blistered bottom high,
toothbrush in one small clenched hand, rags in the other,
the meager supplies I've allowed to her right,
kitchen cabinets to her left,
arms moving, muscles burning, face flushed,
damp with the sweat of effort, not the sensous wetness of arousal
cleaning, cleaning, cleaning

One hour of sparking floor behind her, five more of filth to go
face inches from my tiles, searching for any stain, dirt, grime,
twenty minutes ago I pointed one out to her
with my belt.
Now and then a few tears,
but still she keeps it up, heartening me by her obedience
She continues,
cleaning, cleaning, cleaning

For months the lesson stays.
No more sarcastic wit, tantrums.
Not a door slam, raised voice, nasty comment
in all this time
because any time one begins,
All I need do is remind her of
cleaning, cleaning, cleaning

FFF #7

Desert Racer

One always trains if you want to compete. One trains the body and the mind, for they must work together no matter the exhaustion, the stress, the fear. So I had been. I had to cut down my running to 3 miles a day, because although my cardio and legs were great my upper body needed work. I did curls with Chevy 350 heads, stretch exercises with spring sets, haunted the gym.

After finishing my workout I’d fired off the bike. And I rode. God, I rode. For miles and hours, seeking to hone my skills, flicking several hundred pounds of motorcycle back and forth down skimpy trails through cactus. Hours later I realized I was somewhere I’d never been. I took off my helmet and goggles, wiped the dust. I was getting low on energy drink, and I needed to think through a return. I looked up and realized the sky was darkening.

If you’ve never been in the desert as night falls you cant begin to understand how enchanting it is. I could see the early stars, the bright ones anyway. I refueled, looked for the sky glow that showed where home was. I found it, and it brought a smile to my face. Dinner, I was sure, would be waiting when I got there. I kicked over the big Honda and headed down off the mountain, following the slim beam of light. I felt a contentment I wish I could share with everyone.

----------------------

That truly was my life for a while, and now one of my sons does it as well. And it looks like one of his also - and one of his daughters. The go-fast gene got tucked into us somehow.

What is wild is that a totally different story popped out of my small but active mind on the choice of keywords - I've not written SF ever, though I truly enjoy reading it. I finished it, and started to polish it, but there was no way I could get it under 600 words. I may post it here, or maybe if I get really overconfident send it into Analog. You never know.

Thanks as usual to all my co-writers. I'm tired and (to be honest) a little depressed tonight - hate being by myself on Friday nights.