Mondays are very short stories (vss's) and poetry, mainly from my Twitter account (@EroticMorsel) shared in batches of 10 to make each post worth your time! Feel free to let me know which one you like the most and if you feel like 10 is too many or not enough. Please enjoy!
11. Aria struggled to act natural, but stopped short when she noticed her #torn panties just beneath the couch her sister now sat upon. She silently prayed that Aurora wouldn't notice the way her cheeks burned or the slight tremble in her voice as she asked, "More tea?"
12. His hand trailed up her inner thigh, his touch featherlight and teasing. It didn't stop until he reached her most intimate of places, and her cheeks flushed as a chuckle rumbled through his chest. "Well now, who would have thought the Ice Queen has a #piercedpussy?"
13. "Now strip." Clothes fell to the floor, one piece at a time. When fingers brushed the top of high heeled knee-high leather #boots, he lifted a single finger, making all movement stop with the simple motion. "Everything else goes. But those stay on tonight."
14. He waited on her porch for the perfect #opportunity. When she stepped out the door and turned to close it, he pounced. A shriek as they fell, limbs tangling, clothes ripped and pulled away. His hands moved to her heated sex as her lips caught his in a hungry kiss.
15. The feeling of wet heat sucking on his cock was too much, and his hips forced it down the tight throat as his seed shot out in spurts. After some gagging and slurping from a greedy mouth, blue eyes looked up as a soft voice quipped, "My compliments to the #chef!
16. "That's $3.56 please." Mei barely kept her hand from trembling as she handed the orange funnel cake to her customer. She bit back a moan and fought the need to press the vibrating nugget harder against her clit. Why did she ever agree to this?
17. Her senses flood as she falls back. The sight of blue sky and eyes that match. The sound of small birds and panting breath. The scent of wet earth and sweat. The feel of grass and skin. The taste of salty sweat and seed. Why did she wait so long?
18. She stared down the alley, hardly willing to believe her eyes. Her umbrella dropped without a thought and her feet moved with the quickened rhythm of her heart. If her daydream held true, she would know this stranger intimately well tonight.
19. Why do you want to be a writer?
It's not a matter of want. It's an impulse, a drive. A yearning that can't and won't be denied, no matter how hard I've tried.
For the sake of the scraps of sanity I have left, I need to get these people out of my head.
20. If you're looking for an open book with an easy plot, find another shelf. But if you're willing to take your time, set my bindings, cover me kindly, and write your own story across my pages with your tongue, I promise to make the experience worth your time.
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