Friday, August 30, 2013

TLS's Flash-Fic Fridays are in full effect! Come and see who's flashing us this week: 8/30 - 9/4


Each Friday a new prompt will be posted along with the previous week's winners.
What exactly is a Flash-Fic? It's pretty much a spur of the moment, tiny story, prompted by words, images or silliness. Not sure if you've ever been on twitter when this has happened, but it's pretty awesome when it does. It also happens often in threads, with a combination of people contributing. 

How does it work? Each Friday one admin of TLS posts a picture prompt here to the blog. Using this image, entries are created by commenting on this post. Submissions must be 100-300 words ONLY. No more, no less. The entries are then judged and we post the winners here, each Friday, to share with all of you.


 "I know I shouldn't be watching him, but I can't look away."

You will have until next Wednesday at 9 p.m. EST to submit your entry.

We have a very special guest this week and are so excited to have her here. You all know her from her site, The Fictionators, which she shares with the lovely Kassiah. We welcome the picture prompt and GUEST JUDGE this week: @Carenl !

Please leave your submission in the comment section at the bottom of the post using this format:
Your name (use your Twitter, Facebook or FFN name)
Your link to your FFN profile if you choose to share it
Submissions will be judged on Thursdays and on Friday the winning entry will be posted here, on the TLS blog.
This feature is open to everyone, so come one, come all!



count: 298

She’s there.

I can’t believe it. She’s actually there.

She remembered.

I squint into the midday sun, against the ocean air kicking up grains of sand as it breezes off the Pacific, and take a long, hard look at Bella to make sure I’m not imagining what I’m seeing.

That was the last place I saw her, sitting just like that, in that exact spot. Four years ago, the summer we left for college.

“I don’t want to go,” she told me, leaning her head on my shoulder.“Yeah you do.”“Yeah . . . I kinda do,” she laughed.

It was time. We were both leaving this small town, discovering the world on our own. We promised each other we’d keep in touch. And we have, for the most part, but college life and work make for busy lives. Not to mention opposite coasts. Social media made it convenient. Random texts to say Hi and share old personal jokes made the time pass a little easier.

We also promised to return to this place.

“The next time I see you, I want it to be here. Just like this. Meet me here. In four years, after we graduate. Okay? Promise me, E. No matter what.”

I take a step off the concrete stairs leading from the parking lot to the beach and begin walking to her, my eyes fixated on her nearly bare back. Before I know it, I’m running, thankful that the hot sand quiets my footsteps.

Bel-la, Bel-la, Bel-la my heart sings with every stride.

I slow to a walk as I get closer. Hesitating slightly, I walk up next to her and sit down to mimic her position.

“Hi,” I say guardedly.

She leans her head on my shoulder. Smiles without looking up at me. “You remembered.”


Word Count 298

A couple sit further down the beach. Their bodies are angled toward each other as the girl laughs at something the handsome boy says.

I should look away. I should turn and walk in the opposite direction forgetting I ever saw them. Instead, I stand frozen unable to move.

Silent tears fall down my cheeks. I don’t wipe them away.

You were supposed to wait for me.

One year.

We didn’t even make it to Christmas.

You surprised me one weekend. I thought it was romantic, that you couldn’t bear to be away from me. I was wrong.

You loved college. It suited you. You loved the freedom, the parties… and the girls.

It was over. You wanted to enjoy college life properly. And the proper way was single, without a girlfriend pining for you back home.

I cried. I yelled. I threw stuff and told you to leave. I didn’t mean any of it.

As the summer months loomed closer I listened to the rumors. You were coming home. And you were bringing someone.

I dreamed of the moment you would be back here. In our spot. I never thought you would be here with another girl.

She’s beautiful.

Her blonde hair shimmers in the sunlight, her shoulders tanning in the midday heat.

You smile at her and my heart shatters. That smile used to be for me. I hate that it’s now hers.

In those moments I realize it’s over.

Planning to follow you to the same college is not an option. I can’t be near you and watch you love another.

With one last glance at my past, I turn and go back the way I came.

I don’t see you turning round, or the smile that falls from your face when you see me.


Word Count - 299

I dream of you. Every night, I lay my head on the pillow, your pillow, and smile. It’s my favourite time of day. I know that in a few short minutes, the sleeping pills will kick in and I’ll be with you.

As always, we’re sitting on a beach. Today it’s Waikiki, from the last trip we took together. The soles of my feet sting in the heat as I walk towards you, your back to me. I can still see the faint red lines from where I raked my nails down it last night.

You hiss as I press the ice cool bottle of water against those scratches. Tugging, you pull me down into the sand, rolling to near on top of me but mindful of the families nearby.

“You minx,” you growl, but your eyes sparkle in playfulness, so full of laughter.

I may have seen your face a thousand times but I can’t help but stare. You’re beautiful and you’re mine.


“Nothing,” I smile. “I was just wondering what I did so right to have you wander into my life?”

Your hand reaches up to caress my cheek, you gold band glinting in the bright light. “You were you; perfect in every way.”

A beat or two passes before I burst into laughter. “God, that was the cheesiest of cheesy!”

You blush, and I can’t help but kiss you. “Just as well I love you, your cheesy lines and all!”

We lie there, cocooned in our own bubble, talking about everything and nothing at all. The sun starts to descend, and I know we have to leave soon.

The beach scene begins to fade, taking you with it. I wake to another day where you are no longer in my world. At least until tonight.


Word Count: 243

It is just another day in paradise. We are sitting on the beach. It is our honeymoon. We are a perfect couple. My bleached-blonde hair looks nice against his olive skin. I smile. Jake is a generous lover. I can still feel his kisses all over my body. Mrs Black this time… It’s my fifth honeymoon in the past seven years. It’s my third time at Belize and it‘s getting old. Maybe Maldives next time?Tomorrow Jake will get on his boat and sail to the sea, the defective wire will cause the fire. A honeymoon tragedy. The inconsolable widow (me) will collect three million dollars in life insurance. Just one more day in paradise and I will be free to join my husband, partner and love of my life Edward Cullen.***My wife is sitting next to me on the beach. Bella. The name suits her. We do look good together. She is blonde and I have a black hair. We are a perfect couple. The sex is amazing too. I still have one more night with her. Bella, Nessie, Leah… The list is too long. I have to admit that I will miss Bella but I will do anything to keep my girlfriend Vicky happy.Tomorrow I will take my wife on a boat ride…Defective wire. Fire. Boom. Three million dollars in life insurance.***From a local newspaper: Honeymoon Tragedy. A Seattle couple married last weekend vanishes at sea.

The Lemonade Stand would like to also thank all of the participants. We thoroughly enjoyed ALL of the entries!


  1. @bigblueboat
    word count: 300

    The grunting and “Oh, baby”’s from the television aren't giving me enough tonight. I’m not at half mast even though my favorite brunette is starring in this one. I haven’t even bothered sliding my dick through the handy slit in my boxers.

    One would think that with my washboard abs and green eyes I wouldn't be home alone on a Friday night. What most blatantly ignore is that intelligent men are just as likely to hate being objectified as much as women. So here I spend another Friday night after a failed outing at the bar with my porn collection.

    The doorbell rings. Not even bothering with finding clothing, I open it. Before I can utter a single word, a feminine voice asks, “You’re Edward, right? Some chick at the bar said you lived here. God, I hope I’m not at the wrong place.” Her eyes drift over my bare chest as her words trail off.

    “Yes, I’m Edward. What’s it to you?” Her shirt tells me she works at the bar, but it’s her hair and curves that have me thinking I’m dreaming. How could I have missed her? I know I would have chatted her up if I had spotted her.

    Fuck, she now has a very good idea of how well endowed I’m not.

    “You forgot your credit card.”

    I take it from her. “Thanks.” I go to close the door when she stops me.

    “You know, if you didn't always have a scowl on your face, you could find someone to help you out with that.” She nods toward my dick and walks off.

    I shut the door, banging my head against it. My left hand slips into my boxers, and I adjust myself. Any erection I could have made use of is now deflated.

  2. @GeekChic12ff
    Word count: 300

    Ducking out of Rose’s room, I’m still giggling at my best friends’ antics as I head to the bathroom.

    The door to Edward’s old room is partially open, and a familiar, quiet moan stops me in my tracks.

    I’d heard he was coming home from college for his Spring Break, but I didn’t know he was here already. Rose must not know either because she would’ve warned me.

    Through the crack in the door, I can only see his torso and hips. Lying on his bed, he dips one hand into his navy boxer-briefs, his stomach muscles rippling deliciously.

    Swimmer’s body.

    God help me.

    I know I shouldn’t be watching him, but I can’t turn away.

    The problem is, I know how it feels to have that hand on me, in me.

    I know what it’s like to feel those muscles twitch and bunch under my touch.

    His hand moves under the fabric, and then the head of his dick is poking out of the waistband, hard and flushed dark pink, and I want to lick it.

    I hear myself moan, but I know I didn’t make a sound. I’d sunk my teeth into my lip to prevent it.

    Confused, I listen more intently.

    “God, baby. I love you so fucking much,” he murmurs, and I hear my hum in agreement.

    My hands fly to my mouth to contain my gasp as my scalp goes tingly-hot. My chest cracks open, and I’m suddenly fighting tears.

    I thought he’d destroyed that tape when he destroyed me. When he told me he didn’t think he could do the long-distance thing with me.

    Opening his door slowly with wide eyes, I watch the panic flood his when he sees me.

    He scrambles, covers himself, curses.


    I can't do anything but run away.

  3. @rubyblue9696

    “Com’er…” It’s groggy.

    Jesus. Why does he always do this to me?

    Trying my damnedest not to glance over my shoulder towards the bed where he lays, I reach for my vanilla rose body lotion and begin to smooth it’s awesomeness over my arms and then bend to spread some down my legs.

    A low groan. “Mmm, fuck baby…com’er…”

    No. I won’t do it. They are expecting me to open the shop this morning.

    Standing back up straight, I keep my eyes forward to look in my vanity mirror. Big fucking mistake.

    I can see him.

    Devil’s sleepy grin. “I just want a kiss…”

    It’s instant flushing heat now. “No.”

    “Oh yeah?” I watch wide eyed and helpless through the mirror as Edward, still sleepy grinning and rumpled in our bed, slides both hands slow like sin down his abs and right into his black boxer brief, languidly, hypnotically touching himself. His muscles are very distracting. It’s not fair. At all.

    Blinking away my sudden head haze, I realize I’ve been holding breath. I drag a long one in through my nose, but I can’t look away from my sexy fucking boyfriend. I challenge, and I know it’s futile but I can’t help it. “Yeah.” It’s like subconscious self-preservation or something.

    I can see the very moment his eyes challenge back. Strong footsteps sound across the hardwood floor. The next think I know, my now naked boyfriend is pressing me up against my vanity, taking that kiss he wants and then some. Large strong hands slide around my goose bump covered tummy and down into my own white cotton briefs, touching. Then he pushes them down.

    No fair. I am absolutely going to be late.

    And, I don’t really care.

  4. eternallyedward

    When Bella asked if one of her old friends from college could stay with us for a few days, of course I was fine with it. When she told me that this friend was male, I was a little leery, until she laughingly explained that Carlisle was gay and they'd never been anything but friends.

    Carlisle turned out to be easygoing and personable, with a wicked sense of humor. He and Bella were like siblings—inwardly I laughed at myself for thinking he might have an interest in her. We drank wine and talked and laughed, and I was sure I was imagining the lingering looks he was giving me.

    Eventually we were all yawning and decided to call it a night. As we climbed into bed, Bella asked if I would check and see if Carlisle needed anything. I got up and walked across the hall to the spare room, seeing a thin sliver of moonlight spilling out. I raised my hand to knock, but stopped short when I heard my name in a hoarse whisper.

    Peering in I saw Carlisle had pushed the blanket down past his groin. His hand played along his abs, combing through his pubic hair and grasping the base of his dick. I knew I shouldn't be watching him, but I couldn't look away. “Edward.” A strangled groan and then come was spilling over his hand and onto his abs. My heart was pounding, and I felt sick with guilt as I realized that my own cock was in my hand, hard and throbbing.

  5. @siarh

    She stood at the window to his bedroom, knowing she should keep walking, head back to her own room. But she can’t seem to look away. She hid in the shadows, watching him in the dim light from the bedside lamp, watching his hand move over his abdomen, his hand teasingly stroking his skin before diving under the waistband of his old beat up sweat pants. She watched the thumb on his left hand hook over the elastic, pulling it far enough way to give his hand the room to move.

    She stalked through the shadows outside his window, looking for an angle to see inside those dark pants, to watch his hand move over his cock. Her body tingled at the thought of catching just a glimpse of him hard in his own hand. She knew it was pointless, the angles were all wrong but it didn't stop her from pacing back and forth the double windows hoping for a glance.

    With an unladylike curse, she turned away from the window, her mind and body burning. She made her way back into the house, heading for her room, taking the memories of what she just watched with her, hoping she could remember where she had stashed the extra batteries she picked up in town the other day.

  6. bonadea777
    Word Count: 276

    I had always fantasized about doing something dirty in a crowded restaurant or theater. The chance presented itself when I was invited to the exhibition of erotic photography, His Secret Meadow, by Seattle-area artist, Edward Cullen.

    I was walking around the exhibition, looking for inspiration. Nothing was catching my attention, until I saw THAT photo. I could not look away. It was a black and white, showing a naked torso of a guy lying on a sofa with his hand in his boxers. There was something hypnotic about it, arousing.

    Earlier, in the bathroom, I'd already strategically inserted the vibrator. Its controller was disguised as a black opal ring. All I had to do was press the ‘opal’ to turn it on, which I now did.

    For a minute, I was lost in a world of pure sexual and sensual pleasure. I pushed the stone again to increase the speed. My muscles were clenching around the vibrator, and a warm tingling sensation was spreading through my body. I felt my pussy tighten around it as I came closer to orgasm.

    I was so close - ready to explode - when, from somewhere far, far away, I heard a husky voice.

    “I see that you really like this photo”.

    His voice was what tipped me over.

    “IT’S AMAZING!” I cried out, almost losing consciousness from the most intense orgasm of my life. Before I hit the ground, his strong hands caught me.

    “I've never seen anybody have such a strong reaction to my work. Nice ring, by the way,” he said, with a lopsided grin.

    I looked into his green eyes and knew I was a goner.

  7. Postapocalypticdepository on Fanfiction
    Apocalyptic Depository on Facebook

    I notice his rippled form resting over the weight bench after his rigorous workout. Tonight, he and I are the last ones here.

    A mesmerizing sheen coats his smooth, tanned skin, while his masculine scent bumps me like an unruly punching bag. He turns to see me just showered and eyes my moist, reddened skin and wet, dripping hair.

    Without any make-up, I turn away, embarrassed and self-conscious. His head shakes in encouragement, imparting that I needn’t worry that I’m without my mask.

    His consistent charm habitually captures my interest and pulls me in. I’m forever on the rope’s weaker end of his tug-of-war.

    My pulse pounds at my temples like my feet do on the treadmill. We’ve been here countless times with others, but never like this—alone—before.

    We mostly keep our distance when this game we’re in is played. But his grin conveys his victory as my essence succumbs to seduction.

    Inching downward, his right hand descends across his abs as his left hand lifts away his waistband, accommodating the stroke his gives himself. He repeats this action while staring at me, wondering if I’ll accept his challenge. His blood, like mine, must be flowing fiercely, and it doesn’t take my eyes long to find out where it’s gone.

    When he slinks his pants down further, there’s no underwear in sight, and out pops his seditious cock making its prominence known, no longer rebelling against the confines of his fitness gear.

    I unwrap the foil and wet my lips in anticipation of my only indulgence—a dark chocolate, melting kiss. His eyes widen, and he swallows hard as my mouth accepts the creamy confection. Finally, he gives up his words.

    “You know you want it, and I know mine tastes better…. So what are you waiting for?”

  8. @lellabeth
    299 words

    “Knew you’d be here,” he says, and the shame coursing through me makes me shut my eyes.

    Just for a moment, though - the image he presents is too tempting to ignore.

    Flushed skin and dark hair covers hard muscle, his abs tensing in time with his grunts as he fists his cock.

    “He fuck you tonight?”

    His words are vulgar and crass, a venom-dipped arrow meant to pierce my softest part.

    And it does.

    “Yes,” I whisper, not certain he can even hear me from my place just inside the door. But he doesn’t have to hear, because he already knows.

    He always knows.

    “Yeah, bet he did. He fuck you good?”

    I shake my head. He knows this, too.

    “No, never does. That’s why you come to me.”

    At my nod, he pulls his cock free. I stare at it, just as flushed as the rest of him, the skin tight and straining as his hand swipes over the head.

    “No one but you gets me this hard. No one. That’s fucked, babe.”

    This time, my eyes stay closed for long seconds, because he’s so right.

    “Touch yourself. Legs spread, let me see what belongs to me.”

    My movements are an apology; my reparation for the parts of myself I can’t give because the wedding band on the third finger of my left hand won’t let me.

    He gives me words full of filth, but it’s the raw affection in his tone that makes me hurt.

    When I come, it’s a sigh that’s edged with tears.

    When he comes, it’s with wet eyes locked on to mine.

    There is no afterglow, just endless dark.

    “Me or him, Bella. ‘Cause I swear, I’m done with this.”

    As I creep into the corridor, I pray to God he’s lying.

  9. ltlerthqak
    298 Words

    I crept along the hallway, wishing I had grabbed my socks. October in Marquette was cold. I was freezing, tired, and completely on edge.

    Fucking Edward.

    He had arrived today with his cocky smile and wicked sense of humor. When we ended up alone in the kitchen, he was all flirty banter and light touches. I wanted him, and I knew he wanted me, too. But he didn’t make a move - just teased me all night - so I went to bed alone and frustrated.

    I slipped quietly across the floor as I headed for the kitchen, knowing Edward and Jasper were sleeping in the great room. A soft grunt stopped me in my tracks. I peeked around the corner into the den, wondering what...


    Edward - on the couch - in nothing but his boxers. Head back, jaw clenched, his body practically glowed in the moonlight. That chest, those arms, those abs - everything about him was long and lean, sinuous...almost feline.

    His arms shifted down, his ab muscles quivering, his hand disappearing under the black cotton fabric.

    Oh my God, his hand was on his cock.

    I knew I shouldn’t be watching him, but I couldn’t look away. The way his muscles contracted when his fingers wrapped around himself...the sighs and groans as his arm moved faster...the frantic way he used one hand to push the fabric over his hips so he could grip his balls.

    It was the most erotic thing I had ever seen.

    I glanced up at his face as he came, shocked to see his eyes open, watching me as I watched him. A slow smile spread across his face, and I returned it as I stepped into the office and closed the door behind me.

  10. @bebeginja
    Word count: 293

    This is wrong. So, so wrong.

    I shouldn't.

    I won't.

    "Lead me not into temptation..."

    My impatient fingers drum the mouse. Just one click. One click.

    No one will know.

    Erase the history.

    "Flee from sexual immorality." -First Corinthians 6:18 I hear it echo in my head as I stare at the link Jessica sent me.

    I glance over at the bible on my nightstand. Father would kill me if he found out.

    I shift my laptop to obstruct my view of The Good Book. I'll ask for forgiveness later.

    "Oh be careful little eyes what you see..."

    Palms sweaty, heart racing. I flex my fingers, and I click.

    And I gasp.

    And I can't look away.

    My eyes are frantic across the screen.

    A man, shirtless, six pack, leans back on a couch. He's...he's...touching himself...while he watches her.

    I swallow.


    He watches them. Two women.

    Kissing. Squeezing. Petting. Licking. Legs spread, tongues out.

    Does that feel good? My free hand absently moves to my chest.

    He calls the women to him. His hands stroke himself wildly, and he says bad, bad words. He kisses the blond, pulls her by the hair to his mouth while the brunette pulls down his pants.

    Then, I


    My eyes go wide.

    It pops up, stands erect, the tip almost reaching his belly button. She takes it in her hand. Her long, decorated fingernails barely wrapping around his girth.

    I lean closer. Breathless. Flushed.

    My body feels soft and heated, but I have goose bumps. I'm trembling with anticipation and nerves.

    "Put to death sexual immorality, impurity, lust, evil desires... Because of these, the wrath of God is coming." -Colossians 3:5

    The floor creaks behind me, and-


  11. @QuinnSkylark
    Words: 300

    I haven't been back here since that fateful day - the blow up between him and I. The two months that have passed since I moved with my little guy into the small town down in the valley, have shown me that I really can make it without Edward. Even when it hurts like hell.

    Taking a deep breath, I use the old key he gave me back when we shared this small home, and let myself inside. The room smells like bacon and coffee and butter, and I know he's already made his breakfast. I hope he hasn't already left to work for the day, because, frankly, I'm not sure that I have the nerve to attempt this twice.

    The entire place is eerily quiet, except for the crackling wood that is likely falling apart in the dying stove fire. I'm about to push back through the creaky door when I hear it: the squeaking springs of the old brass bed, and the irrefutable sound of his moans.

    I carefully - quietly - make my way back toward the room. The door is open just enough for me to peer inside. What I see steals my breath.

    Edward is pumping his cock with one hand while the other fists the white cotton sheets. My pussy clenches when he moans my name, and every nerve ending is alert. I must've gasped, because his bright green eyes are suddenly focused on mine. His hand stops rubbing and he quickly pulls up his shorts to cover himself.

    "Bel--" he starts to call my name, but I'm already running.

    Making it to my old red pickup, I start to open the door but his hand slams it closed. And he spins me, lips assaulting mine and his breath becoming my own.

    "Mine," he groans. Owns. Possesses.