Yeah, I haven't posted the last couple of stories I did for Alison Tyler's contests. For various different reasons.
I hadn't figured out why I couldn't copy and paste into my blog posts (because I was using silly Safari) and I was too lazy to type them in. (Stop Snickering - sometimes I can be dense). Okay, solved that one by googling my problem and now I'll do the pasting in Firefox.
Another reason is that ... well ... they didn't do too well (not that any of mine have done great) - and yeah, I know I know. But somebody (actually more than one) liked mine enough to vote for it. Plus, as Alison pointed out a lot of people read but don't vote. So yeah, this is MY problem and I had to get over it.
One other reason is that I'd had to edit these down, both in my head and typing to keep them to the 250 word limit. And I may want to rewrite them as longer pieces. So I was kinda "saving" them.
Oh, but what the hell, they're mine, right? And maybe somebody might want to read them. So I guess I'll post them. This one was for the Vote For Change contest in January.
My body has been humming all day. Anticipating tonight. As I drive to work - the darkened room. As I stare at my monitor - candles flicker on the dresser. As I sit bored in meeting after meeting - him on his back, his hands behind his head. Waiting for me. Like always.
That was the problem. Like always. Time for a change.
We start off the same. That’s part of my plan - him on his back on the bed. Me taking my clothes off. Straddling his legs, undoing his jeans. I slide my hands over his chest to his shoulders, bend and kiss his neck.
“You seem tight – why don’t you turn over and let me rub your back?” I whisper in his ear. “I’ll try this new oil.”
I massage his shoulders. Move down his back. Soon he’s making those getting turned on sounds. Kiss his neck again. Nibble. Scoot to pull down his jeans. He starts to turn over. I press him back down.
My hands get brazen as I begin kneading his tender buns, smoothing the backs of his thighs. He shifts, needing room underneath for his growing erection – yup, he’s liking this. But I’d never done more – until now.
I dribble more oil onto the small of his back. He mumbles something into his pillow. Trembling with excitement, I shush him. Slick, my fingers move into new territory. Sink into warmth. Change is coming.