Lest We Forget

Tattoos can be so very sexy. The way they kind of wind around on your skin and tell stories of your life. The Second Mate’s intrigued me. His were very, very personal. The first one I noticed was the one on his arm. It only took a few moments to realise it was symbolic of his service. There was a dog tag, and a flag and some other symbolic things I didn’t understand. But I never asked him about it. 

I was drawn to him when I first saw him. He told me 

“I will be the big guy standing there.”

And he was. Everything about him was big. His height, his shoulders, his hands…

Everything about him was sexy. His eyes, the way his hands pinched my nipples and left finger bruises on my breast. The way he would lay me down and hold my legs open so he could watch me play a vibe over my clit. The way he told me to spend an entire day wearing no underwear so that he could put his fingers into me every time I bent down to put away a rope or adjust some sailing gear. 

Apart from the tattoo there were other marks of service. His hyper vigilance. Trained to see every tiny movement and notice every little thing. He was acutely aware of his environment but also the moods and interactions of the people around him. He noticed when your mood was down and asked how you were going. And when his fingers were inside you he noticed every movement of your face. From the first time he touched me he could play me better than any musician. 

There were other scars. Ones that were harder to watch. Physical pain from old injuries. Mental pain from the things he had seen and done. The army is not easy on its infantry. It chews them up and spits out their injured bodies and souls like seeds from a fruit. 

Every November 11 we remember the fallen and pray for their souls. This year I will be remembering those who came home and praying that they can heal their souls.  

Boys of Summer

Brigit Delaney runs Flash Fiction Friday every week. Last week’s prompt was the following image;

For an added challenge we were invited to include the lyrics of a song into our entry.

I chose a song, wrote my piece (it was more than the 200 word suggested limit) and then went to the world of no internet for about four days. So I missed the deadline. But, lucky you guys, you still get to read it. I hope you enjoy.

“Good morning,” Keith greeted her from behind the coffee machine. “How is my favourite girl today?” Lesley smiled as she donned her apron.

“Looks like another busy day,” she gestured around the café. A week ago the place was packed with holiday makers. Today a few locals wandered in to collect their morning brew on their way to work.

“Well you know how it is.” Keith shrugged, “Everyone wants to go to the beach when it is hot but as soon as the weather turns…”

Lesley made herself a cup of coffee and sat in the corner to read the paper before her shift officially started. In the corner the Jukebox played.

Nobody on the road

Nobody on the beach

Unbidden memories came to her mind of a man she had met a month ago. The locals always made a point of avoiding tourists. Somehow this one had gotten past her defences.

I can see you

Your brown skin shining in the sun

She had noticed him from the moment he walked into the café. Tall, confident. His presence filled the room. Later she watched him playing cricket on the beach with his friends. His skin glistened as he struck the ball. The crotch of her swimsuit was damp, and not just from sweat.

I never will forget those nights

I wonder if it was a dream

Later that night he walked into the bar where she sat with her friends. Their eyes met and suddenly he was beside her, buying a drink. The rest of the night was a blur of cocktails, dancing, flirting and fucking in the alley outside the bar.

Remember how you made me crazy

Remember how I made you scream

They had spent every night together. She loved to tease him, stroking his cock until he was hard then skipping away out of his reach. He would return the favour by stroking her pussy until she felt the head and warmth building and then leave her hanging, gasping for release. He would hold her wrists together and look into her eyes;

“Wait,” he would say.

Then he would bury his face into her cunt as if he were a man starving. Orgasm after orgasm would shudder through her body until she was pushing his face away, but he would press harder bringing her to climax again and again.

Out on the road today

I saw a Deadhead sticker on a Cadillac

A little voice inside my head said

“Don’t look back you can never look back”

Lesley knew what would happen. His holiday would end, he would leave, and she would be a notch on his belt. The chick who filled his bed during his vacation. She knew that he wasn’t losing sleep about her. She had gone out and rekindled a relationship with an ex to try and get him out of her head. “The best way to get over someone is to get under someone else”. It was fun and it made her feel a little better until some stupid song made her remember.

The song finished as she drained the last of her coffee. Lesley straightened her apron and got ready to work.

Nothing Matters

This is my first attempt in the “Flash Fiction” genre. Normally my writing ferments a little and I don’t like to post as soon as I have typed the last word. Although I have had the experience of stories falling out of me from seemingly nowhere before. In any case I hope you enjoy my first effort.

Brigit Delaney gave the following image as the prompt

The asphalt is hard. All around is noise. Police, protesters, tear gas cannisters, shouting, rubber bullets being fired. It feels like the end of the world. Then he kisses me. I feel as if time has stopped. Suddenly nothing matters except his body on mine. His hand pushing aside my panties. His breath in my ear drowns out the chaos. I look into his eyes as his fingers probe into me, stroking my wetness, spreading it over my throbbing clit.

Somehow his cock is pressing against my opening, demanding entry. I cannot deny him. Right there on the street he fucks me. Hard intense strokes. My body rises to meet him. I feel him building and I am right there with him. The earth moves. Nothing matters except us.

If you enjoyed this click the image below to read the other entries.