FFF - Turnabout

 

Officer Hupke liked being a cop; he liked the authority and he looked good in the blue uniform, or at least people seemed to think so. But what he really liked was arresting pretty women. They would do anything to get out of jail, and he was happy to oblige.

Like Darlene, part-time stripper, full-time trouble. Hupke busted her regularly, for possession, for drunk and disorderly, for whatever he felt like, really. But she'd never seen the inside of a cell because she could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch and she had no illusions, unlike some of the girls he had to help see the light. She sometimes saw him coming and offered to fuck him before he even tried to bust her. And she was pretty hot too.

That night, he nutted twice, the sex was so good, and she even offered him a taste of what she was holding, which made it all the better. Darlene had seemed particularly happy to see him that evening too. Hupke let her fool around with his uniform a little as a reward. She looked hot in blue.

The next day when Hupke went to the precinct, everyone avoided his eye. He was called in to the chief's office. IA wanted to see him. Apparently there were pictures, and Darlene was nowhere to be found.

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The limitations of the form meant that I couldn't tell exactly the story I wanted to tell, but this is close enough. She just looks straight into the camera like she knows it's there, because I figure she does. I'm also proud of being able to work both required words into the first sentence. I could have gone with a female cop, but where's the fun in that?

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Speaking of fun, Flash Fiction Friday is supposed to be fun, and part of what makes it fun is seeing all the different ways people interpret the picture and the assignment, and the more people there are, the better it is, so you should go to Max's blog and join in the fun. Or at least have the fun of seeing the other interpretations. I'm not going to carrot or stick this: FFF is fun, and it'd be more fun if you were playing, and that's really all that matters.

But I am going to encourage you to visit Max's blog if for no other reason than that it gives him pageviews, and he deserves them for being our host every week. You could leave a comment thanking him. You could spread his link far and wide so others will see it too. That, I'll encourage you to do.

FFF - Rolled

The whores sat back, sagging tits revealed but as yet no snatches in evidence. Their hair may once have been in fashion but now all it did was remind him of the urban legend where a gal didn't wash her beehive for so long that actual bees took up residence. He'd always thought it was just a funny story. Now he hoped these two weren't the kind who didn't wash regularly.

The older one had a sardonic look on her face. Her voice could have cut glass when she said, "You want us to undress you or are you in a hurry?" He was in no hurry.

The younger one had been what had attracted his attention. Girlish in a cute way when she had her clothes on, now she just looked like more tired street meat. Still, she looked at him with a smile, not shy, just smiling. He stripped down to his underwear and she kept smiling, so he appreciated that.

They took turns sucking his cock when he asked for that. After all, what was the point in his first threesome if he didn't get to watch two ladies fighting over his manhood, right? Honestly, they seemed more into each other than him.

"Which one do you want first?" the elder's voice rasped like sandpaper over his brain. He indicated the younger one. He hoped she was a little easier to take.

She smiled again and pulled off her panties with little fanfare. Then she lay back on the bed, legs spread, waiting for him.

The injection stung a little, which was how he knew it  had happened. When he woke, he was naked, they were gone, and so was his wallet.

---

I don't know why this one gave me so much trouble. But trouble it gave me. I initially wanted to do something more interesting with the story, but in the end I couldn't make it work, so the whores, like my inspiration, fled and left our protagonist lonely.

The look in the one in black's eyes was really what I wanted to capture. She looks like she's saying, "Seriously? You expect us to fuck you?" But I wish I'd been able to do something more interesting than just two hookers rolling a john. Just kind of depressing and mundane this week.

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Surely you can do better. Surely you can take one look at this picture and summon up a flash of inspiration which blows mine out of the water. Head over to Max's blog for the rules of the week and throw your hat into the ring. These gals deserve better than this. You can give it to them.

FFF - Watermelon Man

"Hey Watermelon Man!"

And he would hack the juicy fruit to pieces with practiced ease and I would devour it, the sticky red chaos all around me. It was a ritual.

Until one day, "Hey Watermelon Man!" as he came around the corner only it wasn't him, it was her. She handled the knife a little more slowly, and the pieces of cold, crisp melon were different somehow. But one look at her fresh face, and who was I to judge?

Later, when I had lapped all the sweetness I was going to get out of the rind, she returned, her face looking more care-worn, beads of sweat glistening on her brow. She had cast aside her shoes and unbuttoned the top button of her dress, and as she slouched down and sliced one of her remaining supply, she looked lonely.

"Hey Watermelon Man!" and I laughed to show I was joking. Her eyes lit on me and she beckoned me over and we silently shared the fruit, warm now from the sun.

And who am I to say that that was the beginning of our love?

---

So there's this jazz song called "Watermelon Man," and that's all I could think of, except this was clearly no man.

I'm doing it a bit differently this week. I've written something which I believe cleaves to the requirements, but I'm not going to verify the word count while I'm writing it. Then I'm letting it sit for a bit and I'll come back and do what edits need to be done. Because while simply putting words on the page is a good exercise, editing them to make them work is equally good exercise, and fortunately Flash Fiction Friday provides a mechanism to stretch both muscles a little.

I'll write more about the editing process when I do it, but the writing process is mostly as usual, except I decided that there would be no dialogue other than "Hey Watermelon Man!" How many different ways can you say those three words? Probably more than I've used here.

And the editing process was nonexistent because I managed to, without counting, write precisely the number of words necessary to fulfill the challenge. I am the champion! Sorry if you were planning on an in-depth discussion of editing. I'm not touching a thing.

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You're probably expecting me to make some reference to stretching muscles here and then to exhort you to go to Max's blog and join in the fun, but I'm not going to do that this week because it doesn't seem to work. You're adults (I hope, anyway; if you're not, I hope you have a parent's permission to read this). You can figure out what you want to do. I respect your agency.

FFF - Check Up

So Daddy being Daddy, even on vacation he couldn't keep from monitoring me. "I just like to make sure my girl is taken care of," he said when I brought it up with him.

"Before I had you I managed to go more than a day without being taken care of," I couldn't resist saying. He sounded a little crestfallen and I mentally promised to make it up to him when he got back.

The next day, a smart-dressed young man knocked at my door. "Bill sent me over to check up on you," he said.

"I told him I was fine last night," I groaned. Just what I needed, a man around the house when all I really wanted to do was have a nice evening in.

"No, you don't get it," said the smart-dressed young man. "Bill said I'm supposed to check up on you, and that's what I intend to do." And courteously but insistently, he shut the door behind him and started taking my clothes off.

I was a little shocked into silence at first, but then Baby came roaring out and I was putty in his firm but tender hands. "Bill said he likes you smooth," said the young man, running his hand over my hastily-shaven pubis, feeling the stubble from too many days without. "'Baby should be smooth,' that's what he said. So hop to it, into the bathroom and let's make sure he comes home to a smooth Baby."

I'd never let a man shave me before, and at first I was awkward and shy, but his hands guided mine in putting the cream everywhere he felt needed it. "He wants pictures," said the young man, and there was a hint of a smile.

"And after?"

"After, Baby can have a treat if she's good."

---

These are supposed to be Flash Fiction in that they're short, not that I write them in a flash, but the past couple of weeks time has gotten away from me and I've written them very close to deadline, which isn't necessarily a bad thing. It forces me to ignore my inner editor and critic and just put words on the page. And isn't that the point of the exercise after all?

Anyway, the lateness of the hour means that despite there being two word limits in this week's rules, I only went for one FFF. Sorry. I'll try to do better next time.

I'm a lousy sub so I don't really know what D/s should be written like, so instead of doing Master and slave, I went with something a bit more familiar. Not that my father ever told a young man to undress me to make sure I was trimming the hedges in his absence. He didn't need to. But anyway, this is not, unlike some of my stories, real incest. It's just a D/s relationship with a bit of a twist to make it easier for me to grok, maybe? I don't know. Hopefully I haven't fucked anything up too much.

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But you'd be fucking up majorly if you don't go to Max's blog and take part in this week's Flash Fiction Friday. It's not a competition, unless you're competing against yourself. And if it were a competition, it would only award prizes for most forced segue, and I'd win every week, so don't even try to top me. I don't know. I'm not going to appeal to your better judgment. You should just play with us.