FlashMobWrites 1x49

    

Staying home instead of working the bar tonight for Tom is something I should have given serious consideration to. I know as soon as she walks in, she is going to cause me trouble. I know when she flirts with me, there is nothing innocent about it. What I should have done is what I usually do in these situations; flirt, serve the cocktails and make conversation. That’s it. And I do that. Sex on a beach and screaming orgasm are cocktails I have made a million times with pretty much the same conversation and howls of laughter like I haven’t heard it before. But the way the words fall in a soft caress from her perfectly glossed lips, the way her smoky almond eyes follow my every move like a cat stalking its prey, I know it is more than the drink she wants. And I am definitely interested.

She follows me outside when I have my break. Before I can speak, she flings her arms around my neck, presses her lips against mine. Of course, I respond, pushing her up against the wall, running my hand along her curves, feeling the warmth of her skin under the thin fabric. I ignore the wedding band. I ignore her reeking of alcohol, drowning instead in lust.  

Glassy eyed, she straightens her dress and joins her friends. It isn’t long before I’m delivering another tray of cocktails. She blushes which is cute. Her friends tease her but they have no idea. Coerced into joining in for a photo, I sit next to her, a compulsion to touch her. She lays her hand on my thigh, instantly my body responds. Luckily the tray is on my lap, hiding my desire. Her friends cackle hysterically. She plays up to them, pouting her lips, thrusting out her breasts. I want her and she knows it.

I can’t wait for closing time. I don’t know nor do I care what she spins to her friends or her husband. My girlfriend hasn’t crossed my mind (but then, I’ve only been dating her for a few weeks) until she walks in just before closing. My mind races, trying to find an excuse lurking in my mind. There is one, I’m sure. There has to be. But my mind is blank as the woman and her friends are ready to leave.  

“Hey, Mum,” my girlfriend says. “Mum, this is Daryl, the guy I’ve been telling you about and Daryl, this is Jane, my mum.”

A glass nearly slips from my hand as my girlfriend hugs her mum, the woman I just had sex with and plan to again within the next half an hour. Mum. She said ‘mum’. I see the colour drain from Jane’s face. I see the sudden realisation dawn on the faces of her friends. I feel sick. But not because of what I’ve done. But because I can’t stop thinking about Jane, the mother of my girlfriend.

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Written for https://flashmobwrites.wordpress.com.

Woohoo. Winning piece of flash with gorgeous judges comments. 

   

   

Blues Buster Dogs of Lust wk50 Lust

After last weeks' second place, I thought I'd give Jeff Tsuruoka's Mid Week Blues Buster over at The Tsuruoka Files another try. This week, a song by The The called Dogs of Lust. To listen, click the link. x here.

Lust

It had been eight weeks since Jay had his heart crushed. He thought he was over the worst but as the days grew longer and the mercury rose, Jay was reminded of sultry days on the beach. When he closed his eyes, he could see her glowing, bronzed skin shimmering in the sun, smelling of coconut and looking good enough to eat.

     Even when Jay was awake, he saw Emma everywhere, in the coffee she drank to the waft of her perfume as he walked down the street.

   The one place he didn’t expect to see her was at the back street bar as he sank his third bottle of beer, trying to celebrate his birthday with friends.

      His pulse raced.

      His mouth became instantly dry.

      The ice cold bottle of beer warmed quickly in his sweaty hand.

      “Is that Emma?” Gary asked.

       Jay couldn’t speak, unable to lift his gaze from Emma as she sauntered onto the stage. Her long blonde hair tucked up into a dark, bobbed wig; it suited her, bringing out the dark pools of her eyes. Her lips were plump, glossy and waiting to be kissed. He remembered vividly kissing those lips, as they smiled back at the audience. He could see her tasteful rose tattoo just at the base of her back. He remembered how he caressed that tattoo with his lips as she moaned under him. Now she was showing off that tattoo to complete strangers as she wrapped her legs around the pole, throwing her head back.       

     She licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. Jay groaned, remembering being on the end of that tongue.

    Even when her eyes fell on Jay, she kept smiling, not thrown for a second. In fact Jay was sure she tried even harder as she faced the crowd and slid down the pole, thrusting her legs wide open, before crawling towards the audience, and Jay, on all fours.   

        Jay felt a tightening in his jeans. He knew she was agile and supple but he’d never seen her do the splits. She was oozing sex, the sexiest thing he had ever seen  . . . and tonight he wanted her.

       Always wanted her.

       She knew it.

       Jay was hot. The sweat dripped down his back. His jeans skintight, stuck to his thighs. He ignored his friends as they tried to talk with him, trying to ignore Emma. They walked away, feeling uncomfortable watching their mate’s ex girlfriend writhe in front of them wearing next to nothing. But Jay sat, intoxicated, knowing how she used to respond to his touch, as he gently stroked her soft contours.

     He groaned, running a hand through his hair, not knowing what to do with himself.

   The music stopped and the crowd cheered. She bowed, which raised more cheers due to her skimpy bra, before running back stage. Moments later, her blonde hair flowing down her back, Emma appeared, fully clothed. She walked towards Jay. He wanted to reach out to her, glide his fingers down her tanned arm, wanted her completely.

      He couldn’t stand.

      He tried adjusting himself. She smiled. It was the acknowledgement Jay needed. Just a drink . . . a lingering kiss. . .

     She carried on walking to the guy behind the bar where he kissed those lips.

     Jay left his beer, needing fresh air. The night was still. Enveloped in lust, Jay walked home alone wondering how he would ever forget Emma.  

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