First 1st!

So I've been entering Alison Tyler's flasher contests at her blog Trollop with a Laptop since December of last year. I've missed some, but not many. I don't know how many I've entered - all I do know is I have a shitpile of buttons from the contests and more. So many I've forgotten what some of them are for. These stories are fun to write and there are some I've really liked and others that well...

But I'd never had one of my stories take 1st place. Until this past week.

And there's a now funny story about it. I wrote it while sitting in my husband's truck on the side of the Mass Pike as he tried to fix a leak and salvage a weekend trip (for just us two) up to Maine. This truck has a lonnnnnnnnng history. Let's just leave it at that. So I wrote this in a notebook and typed it into Alison's blog comments on my husband's computer in the motel room up in Maine. Needless to say, things didn't happen quite this way...

Roadside Discipline

The state trooper just left, warning us that if we’re not gone next time he comes by we’ll have to be towed. Tommy’s under the car, oil all over his face. I’m sitting here, pissed. Another trip screwed over by his insistence we take one of his precious project cars. He’ll pay. Soon his smiling face pops up in my window.

“All fixed!”

I say nothing. Just glare at him.

“I’m sorry honey. That hose needed replacing but I hadn’t gotten to it. Good thing I had extra with me.”

“Yes, good thing.”

He goes back to gather up tools. I step out, look around. Traffic is thinning with the coming dark. Headlights cast shadows as I bend down and pick up a piece of hose. Just long enough, I think, flexing it.

Tommy comes around the side of the car, sees me with the hose and gets this look.

“Come here.” He does.

“Hold onto the mirror.” He does.

I take the hose and wrap it around his wrists and the mirror.

“I’m really sorry honey.”

“Shut up.”

He knows what’s in store. Maybe. I rummage in his tool box until I find something suitable. A rubber belt of some sort. I don’t know car parts. But it will do. Then I yank down his board shorts, exposing his ass. I kick his legs apart.

“What if the cop comes back?”

“Shut up.”

The belt thwaps across his ass. His yelps are drowned by passing trucks. It’s too dark to see his cheeks redden, but I’m wet and wanting to fuck him so bad I can taste it. I reach around and feel his hot rod.

Hissing in his ear I tell him “You better make me come in record time.”

Not long after, the trooper returns just as Tommy starts the car.

“Looks like you got her started just in time. I was about to call the wrecker.” He looks over at me. “ And Ma’am, you have the patience of a saint.”

I smile at the officer.