Microfiction Stories

Techno music throbs, dark room filled with thrashing dancers. His hand snakes under my shirt, finds my braless boobs, plays with my nipples. I stroke his dick through his jeans, then drag it out and take it in my mouth. It hardens quickly as I tease my tongue round his knob. I deep-throat him; he pulls up my short skirt and slides his fingers into my cunt. A flash, phones pointing, people smiling. I pull him out, rub him,...

His scarlet throb traces my lips, slickens them in a honeyed froth. Though blinded by silk noir haze, I divine its hue from its hardness.  It probes, a plum brimming with the taste of his control, the first breach of unclothed submission. I open for the deepest kiss I can bestow, all its flickering wiles unleashed to swipe desire's tears until his swollen rage strains as one with my bindings.  Heat withdraws. I breathe fr...

Illicit touch’s giddy frisson. “A drunken one off,” I had told him. It was; until fingers again brush my skin. Pussy memory dampens my knickers. “Shouldn’t,” I say, half-heartedly. Wordlessly, my inner thigh is caressed. Self-control evaporates in a vortex of forbidden desire. Spreading my legs, fingers spear my slick pussy. Knuckles press against clenching velvet walls. I ride and slap my clit on twisting fingers. She wh...

Life is a special game. Sometimes it's fun, like playing jacks or marbles. I had a talent for some school playground games. Some more than others. That evening we approached each other along a dimly lit street during college orientation. On the sidewalk was a hopscotch court. A key chain pulled and tossed from my pocket to a square, hopped on one foot, stooped, picked it up. Hopped to the end and back. She tossed a hair s...