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GONE IN MINUTES Ch 6
The fingers trailing across my mini skirt clad ass as I stood facing my colleague, Julie, at the company Christmas party sent a trail of sparks straight to my libido. Say what you like, at forty-eight no amount of looking in the mirror, no amount of husbandly compliments or ones from colleagues and friends alike say, ‘you’ve still got it’, like a physical touch. The simple act of three or four fingers trailing their way slowly and sensually from left buttock to right along the line of my super-short dress. Sometimes on silky fabric, sometimes on silkier skin, at exactly the half-way point drawn along my panty covered sex. Pressing briefly but insistently. The touch, from the guy who’d walked ever so slowly behind me, made me wet in the scant three seconds it had taken him to perform the act. Read More …
GONE IN A MATTER OF MINUTES #5
THE SCENE. It’s a glorious spring day and the educational consultant has walked the Year 11 photography elective class to the local park. Cameras in hand, they’re sitting on the grass in a circle around the professional photographer. Read More …
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! How does he know? How did Dave find out? My marriage is toast, I just know it. The courts will judge Dave to be the primary caregiver of our kids, he’ll be awarded custody. I’ll be a social pariah, shunned by just about everyone in this church-going community. Forgiven by the priest with the soft words but the judging expression. Read More …
GONE IN A MATTER OF MINUTES #4
I’ll let you into a little secret. I hate wankers. You know the guys I mean. The ones who have big bushy beards because some celebrity was photographed with one and all of a sudden all the hipsters have one. The ones with the knees torn out of their jeans because, again, some celebrity was seen like that. One member of this particular sub-breed of wanker was less than amused when I pointed out that this was a re-cycled trend from my youth, the 1980’s. Read More …
A BEAUTIFUL LIFE
Monday 10.10 p.m.
I’ll be the first to admit that I have a beautiful life. Read More …
POETIC JUSTICE
To this day, I don’t know if it was a sigh, a cough, a breath of air stirred up by my husband’s presence, or something on a more psychic level that made me open my eyes. I do recall having an inane, endorphin spurred goofy grin on my face attesting to the success of John’s recent efforts. Read More …
AT LEAST I STILL HAVE MY BALLS
“But at least I still have my balls, Your Honor.”
I heard my lawyer emit a low hiss and out of the corner of my eye saw his glare directed at me. I thought a guy on an hourly rate as huge as his would have a little more self-control than that. He’d warned, or rather, begged me to stop saying that phrase, citing that we risked losing public sympathy. Public sympathy, apparently, sways judges into handing out shorter sentences.
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COMPULSION – THE EXTENDED VERSION
SPECIAL NOTE: This extended version, adding approximately 3000 words, is thanks to the constructive feedback offered by low8option. Van1 and CTC love constructive criticism and questions. Thank you, low8option, for making us dig deeper on this story. Read More …
COMPULSION
BROOKE REGARDED HERSELF in the bathroom mirror. She was flushed and dishevelled. She held her breath and stood perfectly still. She knew that the smallest movement, even the merest thought, and the zing in her belly, the nerves strung so tight they were like a corset, would twang. Read More …