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500 Words – Mrs. Wilkins Smith: She found the safe.

August 23rd, 2009 No comments

500wordsIcon“I cannot deal with these fucking holy rollers!” Wilkins Senior screamed at Marlene.  “Get them the fuck out of my house.  What ever made you think I’d accept them here?”

Marlene chuckled.  “Listen to you trying to sound all educated.  Why don’t you go hang with your bar buddies and leave me alone for once?”

“Marlene, I’ll give you five minutes.  Don’t make me embarrass you in front of your lady friends.”

“Oh… You mean, you haven’t already?”

The back of Wilkins’s hand rushed toward her face and connected with her cheek before she could duck out of the way.  It was just as well.  Missing would only infuriate him further.

Marlene met his eyes.  Hers were watery and dark, but steady.  Her voice was clear and firm.  “Never in front of outsiders, Wil.  Are you an idiot? Are you looking for trouble?”

One of her friends had already made for the phone in the kitchen.  Marlene’s pleading eyes lifted in the woman’s direction.  “Annabelle.”

“I’m sorry, Marlene.  No more.”  The woman began to dial. Read more…

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500 Words: More?

July 26th, 2009 No comments

500wordsIconAuthor’s Note: This is way over 500 words.  Oh well.

You stare at her shape in the darkness.  The gentle rise and fall of her shoulders as she breathes in the cool night air.  And then she turns to face you.  And almost without thinking, your mouth finds her nipple.

She moans.

Your cock stirs.

Suddenly you’re on top of her.  Pushing her legs apart with your own.  Impaling her.

Eyelids flutter open and search for your face.  You can barely see the movement in the pitch black room.

Hands, like silk, tease the flesh of your back.  Moans, soft and sweet, tease your throat.

That slick, wanton hole milks your cock for all it’s worth as hips meet pelvis again and again.

Her tongue dances along the heat of your chest.  Tangles in your hair.  Tastes your skin.

And finally, as quickly as you started it, you finish it.  Pleasure rips through your body as your lips meet hers.  Primal need fills the air as the intensity of her moans match the intensity of your orgasm stroke for stroke.  And then you are finished.  And you lay beside her and order her to cum.

She wastes no time.  Fingers find the hardened bud trapped in so much hot, wet flesh and begin manipulating it to her will.  And then, she cums.  Loud and long and trembling as she turns toward you and nuzzles her face into your arm.

You both drift off to sleep between touches and pinches and caresses. Read more…

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500 Words: Frustration

July 19th, 2009 No comments

500wordsIcon

I’m really frustrated with myself.

I had two dreams growing up.   Two.

One was to be a lawyer.  Even in the late eighties and early nineties, when my dream began to develop, the world was so fucked up that I, a child between the ages of six and sixteen, could see it and wanted to fix it.  And I thought being a lawyer would give me the perfect opportunity. Because, to me, a lawyer isn’t much different from a salesman.  They’re both selling their product.  A lawyer’s product just happens to be their client.

My other dream was to be a writer.  Change the world with my writing.  Help MJ heal the world.

That used to be my favorite song.

I knew writing would never pay the bills.  I assumed I’d never be famous.  I was pretty sure I’d never be rich.   But I wanted to write. Even if that part of me was never noticed until after I died like so many artists who have gone before me.

I’m not sure when it started.  The decline in my self esteem.  The wholehearted belief that I would never amount to anything.  I don’t know what caused it or how it managed to get so damn big.

I know I never used to talk about it.  Would pretend I loved myself too much so I didn’t have to face the fact that, in reality, I hated myself so much I couldn’t even bring myself to do the things I love.  And I would just go on unable to look myself in the mirror. Read more…

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