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Copyright © 2010 Frenulum. All rights reserved.
So-called “flash fiction” consists of ultra-short stories, just little vignettes to plant a scene in your head. Where you take them after that is up to you.
All of these are independent, and appear in no particular order. In my opinion, reading them one after the other is a less than optimal experience.
If you like this sort of thing, see also Flash Fiction II, Flash Fiction III, Flash Fiction IV, Flash Fiction V, Flash Fiction VI, Flash Fiction VII, and Flash Fiction VIII.
The girl’s mother looked up from the heap of silver in her hand. “She’m a right virgin, m’lord,” she whined, angling for another coin or two.
“Are you offering a discount for the inconvenience?” I asked, not expecting a reply. My eyes were on the girl, struggling in the grip of two guardsmen who held her arms. Only her homespun underskirt remained, and her generous, rose-tipped breasts danced enticingly as she squirmed.
I drew my sword and held it against the girl’s hip. She froze in fright. I held her eyes, which flashed darkly with... not so much anger, as disdain. With a twist of my wrist I severed the button, and her last garment fell around her ankles. Naked, helpless, she spat at me, falling short.
“Have her bathed,” I ordered. I let the tip of my sword brush through her pubic curls. “Plucked bare. Dressed for service.”
“Yes, my lord,” said my squire. “And the draught to make her biddable?”
I turned away from the spirited young girl, and sheathed my sword. “No. I’ll break this one the old way.”
One brunette, one redhead. One tanned, one creamy. One petite, one nearly my height. One centerfold-curvy, one schoolgirl-slender. One decked out in alluring lingerie, one as bare as her birthday. And my stone-hard cock: bobbing with my pulse, aching with urgency.
“Heads,” one of the girls called. The coin spun flashing into the air, and landed with a soft plop on the rug.
“I win!” cried the other. But they both looked pleased and eager.
Seconds later, two girls on their knees. One sucking my cock with talent and passion, the other licking and lapping avidly at my asshole, her face pressed hard against me.
There’s a winner every time.
“So here’s the deal. There’s about fifteen scenes of the villain, the main bad guy, in his whatchacallit... lair. You know, like a secret headquarters thing. I’m gonna have pussy all over the place — walkin’ around, sittin’ at his feet, rubbin’ his neck, bringin’ him shit, ya know? ’Cause, see, the fanboys who watch this sci-fi gun-play nonsense, it’ll just make ’em hate the guy even more, he’s up to his nose in prime cooze and they got none.”
“Plus I just like plenty of skin in my films, kinda guy I am. So: no lines, no motivation, no character, no acting. I’m lookin’ for tits and ass, looks hot in heels and a g-string. I woulda preferred no panties, but it fucks with the rating. So, baby, y’innerested?”
“Let me just slip out of my things and show you how very much I’d like an audition. And then perhaps I can give you an... incentive... to keep my qualifications in mind.”
“Finally. A chick who unnerstands the value of a job... Whoa! — those are nice qualifications, baby.”
“You two are equally responsible for this reprehensible behavior. I trust you are aware of the consequences.”
“Spanking,” they said, in a unison of self-pity and dread.
“Ordinarily, yes,” I said, and watched hope dawn in their eyes. “Or it could mean... a two-headed blow job, taking turns one minute long. And whoever makes me cum gets to stay and watch me spank the other... for twice as long.”
They glanced at each other quickly and, abandoning friendship, began to undress in haste. I knew I could count on their enthusiastic best efforts.
What the cute little cocksuckers could not know, is that in such situations I always declare the contest a tie.
“Please hold me,” she had said. “I just want you to hold me for a while.”
Some women mean that in an entirely different way.
I looked at her, prostrate on our bed, naked, ass high, legs wide-spread. I drizzled some Astroglide onto my fingers, and got on the bed beside her.
I’m not a bowler. But I know the grip.
(For Diane, and her beautiful smile.)
It’s hard to pin down what attracted me first. Her youth; her beautiful face, an exotic Asian-American blend; truly fine legs bordered by short skirt and high heels; her stature, barely to my chest despite the boost; the warm softness of her hand as she took mine with gentle pressure; or the look of pleading supplication in her eyes: about to graduate, with jobs so very scarce, and me with a priceless few to offer.
But I know what changed attraction to lust. She smiled brilliantly, and spanning both her upper and lower teeth I saw a single thin silver wire, gleaming in the bright lights of the convention center.
Later, in one of the private interview rooms, I found her braces even more enchanting, covered and dripping with my cum.
If one of these bits of kindling started something
glowing in your imagination, do please write and tell
me about it.
The first two paragraphs of Job Fair are true. The last, alas, is only fantasy.
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