FFF 2/27 - I did?

Key Words - Relief
Word Limit - 239
Forbidden words - unbeknownst, twitterpated. scullery
Bonus words - 25 points if there is a crowd cheering outside the room
Extra Credit - have you, would could you, in a stall?

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"You don't think I can."

She glanced back over her shoulder, irritated at his amusement.

"You could wait, you know..."  His voice was overflowing with mirth at her expense.

She pushed her panties down to her thighs.

"Did you see the line for the ladies?  Fuck that.  I need relief.  Now."

She leaned forward, freeing her stream into the urinal.  She was shocked it worked, but she'd never let on.  Outside the door she heard a rise of cat calls and applause. Someone else must have taken the stage.  She smiled at their unconventional beginning.

She felt him behind her. He leaned in, his large hands wrapping around her wrists.
"You know," he murmured against her ear.  "That was pretty fucking hot.  And I could use a little relief myself."

She heard the tick of a button; the promise of a zipper.

"Here," she asked.

 He laughed against her neck, rubbing his cock against her ass.

"Ma'am, I just fucked you on stage in front of a hundred of our closest friends."

She felt him slide between her thighs just as the door flew open.

He stood abruptly, tucking himself back into his .jeans.  He grinned at his best man. She laughed, her face flushing scarlet.

"We can't toast the newlyweds without the newlyweds."

He turned and left as her new husband wrapped around her, pulling her panties back over her hips.

"Shall we," he asked.

"We shall."  She replied, shaking her head as they walked towards the bathroom door.

Really, she thought to herself.  Who the fuck gets married at a sex club?

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Sorry so late, and such on odd story! I hope it was at least a little entertaining.


In a stall? I've done worse.

FFF - Sorry, Wrong Number

Thank you,  Advizor.  I do love this picture.   Though,  I'm surprised at the direction I took.   I hope it works for someone out there.

The details...

FFF Prompt - Devastated
Key Word:  Devastated
Word Limit:  Short week, low limit, 180 words
Forbidden Word:  Phone, Carpet, Nipple
Extra Words:  20 Extra if her mom or dad finds her or is on the phone.
Extra Credit:  Tell me a story about your worst phone call.

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She could still hear his voice.  

"Bella. Answer me, Bella."

She dropped the receiver after he came; after he said a name that wasn't hers.  Yet, it was a name she knew...

She lay on the floor, devastated, listening to him buzzing away like an anxious mosquito. She wanted to swat away his feeble excuses and end this horrid call.  He was her fucking fiancé.

"Stop," she whispered. "Please stop..."

She clutched at her dress, covering herself as she rose to a seated position..  In seconds, she'd gone from hovering on the edge of orgasm to total humiliation.  Sure, he'd been different tonight.   It wasn't the way he normally talked to her.  It was... dirtier.  And, yes, she was surprised that he'd called her here, but it was a pleasant surprise.   One that made her feel wanted and a little naughty.  But then he came and called her Anna. The only Anna she knew was...

"Bella, darling.  Who was it that called?"

She grasped the receiver and stretched out her trembling hand.

"Sorry, Mother," she whispered.  "It was for you."

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Extra credit, though I didn't take the words.

My worst phone call is yet to come.  I dread it.   However,  I did have one a year or so ago that was awful for me.   Many years ago,  I spent a year in an affair with my best friend.   She had a girlfriend.   I wasn't proud,  but it's where I was.  I adored her.   The year was torture,  but I loved her so I endured.  I was 1000 percent sure that she knew that.   I'd believed she felt the same way.   About a year or so ago we are on the phone and she tells me she never loved anyone before her current girl.   Gut punch. Yet, somehow,  I ended up telling her I'd been in love with her back then.   She said she'd never known.   Shed though it was just for fun.   Even now,  happily married,  it broke my heart.   It made me feel like she'd never known me;  that the entire year had been a figment of my imagination.

Satisfaction

He wants
the broken girl
from beneath the rubble;
the one that cries each time she begs
for more.

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My favorite poetic form, cinquain.  I haven't written one in ages.  This one seems to have written itself.

FFF - Fifty Shades of Crazy

Required Phrase - "And then my Crazy Ex......."
Word Limit - 2 short chapters of 230 each
Forbidden Phrase - Burned
Bonus Words if someone ends up dead.
Extra Credit if you fictionalize a real world story

Part I

This is the only way it could end.  She was fucking crazy.  That's what drew me to her in the first place.   We had mind-blowing sex.  Adrenaline junkie shit, you know? Fucking everywhere we could; daring ourselves to get caught.  Fingering her while we drove 90 on the highway.  If I wanted it, she was down. And Em got it at first.  She knew I had my girl; this was just a fling. Then she caught feelings.  They always do.   The midnight hang ups, showing up at my job, at Starbucks, outside my girlfriend's house...but it was when she torched her tongue with a fucking lighter that she scared me shitless.  What the fuck was she trying to prove?

We met at a Valentine's Charity auction.  I was supposed to go with my regular girl. We were in search of a third.  Just for fun, you know?  Instead, we had a huge fight, she backed out, and I went stag.  Em was on a pedestal in the middle of the room in nothing but 6-inch stilettos  and a patent leather teddy, all curves and burgundy curls.  Someone else won her, but I was the one fucking her at the end of the night.  I know it was wrong, but I was hooked.  Now?  Yeah, this is the only way it could end.  I just need to get away with it.

Part II

Flashing lights.  No sirens.  Incoherent babbling.  A cop furiously scribbling on his note pad.  "And then my crazy ex..."    I have to admit it.  She's selling this shit.  I watch as they wheel out the gurney.  I stay behind the caution tape remembering the rules she'd set in the beginning.  Yeah, those rules went right out the window.    I mean, shit.  Love?  She wanted to give me up for love?  No, what she wants are my stiletto heels digging into her bare ass.  She wants to bury her face in my juicy pussy.  She wants to call me insane, fine.  But she's the one that just offed her girlfriend. I fight to stifle my grin as the last cops pull away.  The coroner is long gone.  That bitch's body? Gone.  I watch her face, seeing remorse flicker in her eyes.  I toss my burgundy hair over my shoulder and walk to her.  I won't comfort her.  It's not in me.  Instead, I lower my mouth to hers.  I want to make sure she knows that I won.  She thought she would kick me to the curb.  She thought she was done with me.  But what we have?  No fucking way.  I drag my tongue piercing across the swell of her bottom lip, swallowing her ragged sigh. Yeah, this is the only way it could end.

Crazy wins every fucking time.

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230/230.  Yep, one dead body.  No true story.  Definitely no hearts and flowers this Valentine's Day.

FFF - How long?

I'm late to the party, but I'd still like to join.  Very nice pic, Advizor.  Here goes...

Key Word - Waiting
Word Limit -250 exactly

No extra words

Forbidden Words - boredom, enui

Ridiculous,.  She'd been waiting for hours.  It was meant to be a joke.  He always made cracks about those stupid "no shirt, no shoes, no service" signs, so here she sat... shirt, shoes, and waiting to be serviced.  He never showed, not that it was a shock.  Maybe he was doing some servicing on the side now.  Fuck, he didn't even get her off last time they were together.  

She reached over and grabbed her phone.  No texts, no missed calls.  This was the last time.  A bright, devious glimmer shot through her grey.  She lay the phone down beside her and spread her legs wide, letting her fingers trail through that thick bush he loved so much.  She turned, positioning her legs so that she could prop up her phone for the perfect shot.  After getting nice and worked up, she hit record... watching herself.  Watching her fingers work her slick, hard clit.  Watching what he didn't want anymore.  Watching what he'd never get again.

She came hard, her juices splashing the screen of her smartphone, the sound from her throat a broken cross between a moan, a laugh, and sob.  After a ragged breath, she wiped the screen off on his sofa.  Quickly, she attached the file to a text with the message, "Fuck you, asshole.  We're done." Message sent.

She closed her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks before she felt his hand grip her neck from behind, his warm breath caressing her cheek.

"Not even close."

(250)

Pity Party for One

I wonder what would happen if anyone actually knew me.  If they could split me open like some piece of rotted fruit and see everything.  This person... the one that dresses like her mother, hides behind her weight, and smiles at the entire fucking world is a piece of of shit fraud.  I don't write for a reason.  When I write, I speak truth.  I talk about the things I want, but can't have.  The pain I miss every fucking day.  The stranger seared into my brain.  I drown myself every fucking day in the fantasies of others so I can deny my own.  I want.  I want so much.  I complacently settle for the life of a middle class office bitch when I crave so much more.  And then?  Then I deny my past and cope with the anxiety and depression in a Mary Jane haze. Then I write dirty stories with my friends because it's the one thing that triggers my pulse.  And when my friends are gone, I go scary places inside.   Honestly.  I really am a piece of shit. I believe if anyone really knew me, they'd just walk away.  Plenty have.   Fuck, I would.