Microfiction Stories

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...