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A pick 'n' mix genre author. "I'm not greedy. I just like variety."

Wednesday, 21 November 2012

Wednesday Briefs: Truth or Dare?



I missed doing flash fiction last Wednesday because my mother wasn't very well, and I wasn't getting a lot of sleep. Today's flash is a continuation of the excerpt I posted a fortnight ago. Like last time I would like to point out that this is a rough draft, and I mean rough as in I have just written it and posted it. Very naughty, I know, but I have had a busy day and only just finished this about fifteen minutes ago.

So, I haven't edited it. I haven't polished, or padded it out with more detail, which I know for a fact it does need. And I can say right now that there will be a ton of things I will want to change and end up changing when I go over the entire story from start to finished.

So be warned; this is very rough writing - mistakes included- which isn't written in stone until I am happy enough with the story on a whole to submit.

The prompt I have decided to use this week is: "He was the kind of guy you just wanted to lick ... off of."

Hope you enjoy!

Truth or Dare?

A couple of hours later . . .

Blissful heat tingled beneath every inch of my skin as I sat crossed legged on the sofa. My focus was fixed upon a giggling Kathy who sat perfectly still as Ben attempted to collect the full shot glass from her cleavage.

She shrieked. “It’s going everywhere.”

“Stop moving then.” Ben chuckled and loudly slurped the tequila from the glass. With a triumphant shout, he sucked on the lime he had held in his hand.

Kathy removed the glass and put it on the table. “I’m all sticky.”

“I can help with that.” Ben leant in and ran his tongue along the top of each of her breasts. “Tequila never tasted better.”

“Great now I have your saliva all over me instead.”

“I’m sure you’ve had more than his saliva on you before.” Trey leaned in and poured another four glasses as Benjamin laughed.

Shaking my head, I scowled at him. “You’re so fucking gross.”

“Just being’ realistic. It ain’t like we’re a bunch of virgins.” He pushed a tumbler toward me. “You’re turn, Danny, and Ben gets to pick the question or the dare.”

“Fine by me.”

“But this time you’re doing a dare.”

“Hate to break it you, but it is my choice to choose, not yours.”

“You keep picking’ truths.”

“And?”

“Well, not that it ain’t fascinating watching your blush over all your sexual experiences or anything, but stop being such a chicken shit.”

“Fuck you.”

“Any time. Any place.”

“Fine. I will take a dare.” I looked at Ben. “What do you want me to do?”

A wicked grin that was almost as sexy as his brothers spread across his lips. “I want you to lick salt off Trey’s neck, and then take the lime from his mouth.”

He had to be fucking kidding. “Do I dare ask where I will be drinking the tequila from?”

His gaze flicked to Trey, who I couldn’t bring myself to look at. I held up my hand to cut Ben off before he suggested anything else.

“Fine.” I untangled my legs and slid off the sofa. I took hold of my shot glass and levelled a look at Trey. He pulled his t-shirt over his head, and my mouth dried at the ripple of his six-pack as he moved. He was solid; perfect. His skin was a healthy bronze. A fine dusting of dark hair ran from his navel and crept down into his jeans.

I hated to admit it, but he was the kind of guy you just wanted to lick ... well, anything off of.

Slowly, I made my way round the coffee table. Despite the fact that my legs felt as though they were turning to jelly, I kept my gaze fixed on his, not wanting  to give the satisfaction of seeing how this stupid dare was affecting him. Although, I was pretty certain that the press of my hardening nipples against the fabric of my top was a dead give away.

I stopped in front of him. “Well?”

Lifting his hand, he ran his tongue up the length of his palm, and then wiped his saliva on his neck. Grabbing the salt shaker he tilted his head, and shook the white granules over his skin. “Whenever you’re ready, sugar lips.” His lips twisted at the corners.

“It would be a lot easier if you stood up.”

“Too easy.” He tucked the salt shaker down the side of the armchair, and patted his lap. “Hop on.”

“What?”

“I’m not going to bite you, Danny. Not unless you ask me too.”

Heat rushed to my cheeks and quickly spread down my neck. With a determined grunt, I carefully slid on to his lap. My thighs awkwardly trapped beneath his and the arms of the chair. He ran his hands up my legs, and around to my ass, pulling me closer as he sat up and offered me his neck.

“Go on, lick me.” The words were rough as they fell from his lips. And said in that particular way of his. A way that conjured images of him fisting his hand in my hair and begging me to take his cock in my mouth.

My nipples tightened painfully at that idea, and I found myself wondering what he would taste like. What he would feel like. I had to fight the urge to grind against him. An impulse which was hard to ignore when I could feel that he was growing hard again beneath me. His reaction both thrilled and amused me. And with a shit load of alcohol in my system, and the simple fact I had been dared to do this idiotic stunt I was in the perfect position to tease him a little; try and reek some form of revenge even if it did meant that I would be getting my favourite toy out tonight to take the edge off.

Sliding my hand round his neck, I threaded my fingers in his hair and pulled his head farther to the side. The cord of muscle bulged at me as he swallowed. Leaning in I licked the hollow of his neck; gentle, teasing. I shifted in his lap. He squeezed my ass and I had to cut off a moan.

“Danny . . .”

I ran my tongue up the length of his neck; once, twice. The scent of cologne on his skin mixed with salt was strangely erotic.

Releasing his hair, I pulled away. My pulse fluttered as I looked in his darkening eyes.

“Lime.” I held my free hand out and quickly knocked my tequila back.


Until next Wednesday!

Cia Nordwell     m/m
Lily Sawyer    m/m 
MC Houle      m/m
Victoria Adams      m/f
Elizabeth Morgan    m/f
Nephylim     m/m
Julie Lynn Hayes m/m

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