PLEASE JOIN US EACH FRIDAY TO SEE WHO'S FLASHING US
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? We're keeping FLASH FICS spontaneous, but when inspiration strikes one of our admin team we'll post a picture prompt here to the blog. You, the flasher, will use this image to create entries and submit via the comments at the bottom of the post. Submissions must be 100-300 words ONLY. No more, no less. The entries are then judged and we post the winners here the following Friday to share with all of you. So stay tuned and keep those words handy.
LAST WEEK'S NEW PROMPTS:
Judged by Ed Mazin
I want to send out a quick thank you to the ladies who entered and pimped. I loved reading all of the entries and ultimately decided to only list the top three because I didn't want anyone feeling like they were at the bottom of the list. Thank you for giving me something to read and making the fandom a fun place to be.
“Let me look at you.” His voice was low and oozed lust as his focused on my trembling hand. The same hand that clutched onto the knot of my robe. “Please.”
I obeyed his command and his eyes widened as the silk fell down my shoulders, exposing my bra and panties to him.
“Fuck.” He muttered.
“Lay down, I want to taste every inch of you.” His hands seemed to shake at his sides, almost as if he was holding himself back from touching me.
I scooted on his bed and tried to keep my eyes locked with him as I laid on my back, waiting for what came next.
“Do you know what you look like?” He asked as he bent down and I watched his pink tongue peek out from his full lips.
“No. What do I look like? Describe me in one word.” I replied, getting a little confident. He smirked at me and his tongue gently touched my skin, right by my panty line and I shivered in pleasure.
The wetness of his tongue, as it trailed up my body sent a fuse through my veins and my skin flushed. The twinkle in his eyes let me know he was enjoying my reaction.
He went as slowly as possible, ignoring my breasts even when I tried to arch my back so he would have better access. He wanted to drive me crazy. He wanted to make me beg.
“Mine.” He answered as he bit my ear, pulling a moan out of me. “All mine baby.”
And it was true, I was all his.
Word Count: 282
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His lips trail fire across my skin, blazing to the deepest parts of my soul. The rough skin of his fingers follow his lips with the softest of caresses, making my body tremble and shiver and shudder.
His touch is the sweetest torture, leaving me squirming and writhing under him. It's maddening and altogether perfect.
"Shhh.... Just feel," he whispers. His tongue draws circles around my belly button, the sensation earning a soft giggle from me.
But even as my face smiles, my heart is heavy. My toes curl as my eyes well up and my breath comes in short pants. I clench and moan and dig my fingers into his scalp even as my chest aches.
Because every time he's here I wonder will it be the last. I savour every moment and cling to every sensation because I never know when he'll be back.
"Please...more," I beg, dying for his touch. His deep, rumbly voice starts whispering in the darkness, sweet nothings and dirty words about the softness of my skin and the smell of my hair. How he loves my eyes and craves my taste.
"Describe me in one word," I whisper as his fingers gently peel my underwear down my shaky thighs. His eyes are intense as they meet mine and the desire and love there is undeniable.
It intoxicates me, that look. His love brings me the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.
I'm a junkie, and he's my fix. I'm Eve in the Garden, and he's my forbidden fruit.
I'll never get enough.
And my heart cracks a little more as he utters the one word we both wish was true.
We both know it; he can't stop. And I don't want him to.
He starts by tasting my neck with his warm tongue and whispers in my ear that I'm intoxicating. That makes me go even crazier for him. He knows that, too. He keeps moving down to the swell of my covered breasts and even further down to just the spot above my hipbone, before sucking at my skin there. I love that. I love everything about him.
Our connection has always been too intense to be able to ignore it. Every single time. And it doesn't matter where we happen to meet in our conference tours: Washington, Ohio, Florida... his hotel or mine, we've never cared. But this time he's right where I truly want him. Right now he's in my own bed, in my home. There's a high chance that it won't work out for us, but it's a risk I'm willing to take, because I can't imagine going through the rest of my life without him.
He raises his head, looking behind me, and flashes me a little smile.
“I never would have pegged you for a Dalí kind of girl.” His eyes are on the art I have set up on the wall behind the bed.
“There's a lot we haven't talked about.”
“But we will.” He says this so sure while he caresses my bare thigh. I believe him.
I'm still curious about what he sees in this room about me.
The moment he starts kissing back up, from my stomach to my ribs, I ask him, “Describe me in one word.”
He doesn't hesitate one second to touch me where I need him the most before responding against my skin, “Mine.”
I know. We both know.