Category: Sunday Quickie

The best part about going to a gourmet coffee house is not the five dollar cup. It’s the standing in line.

At least for me. I love people watching, and being close to people while I watch them is even better. And I like it even more when somebody watches me.

So I wear the shortest skirts. I push my boobs up and together, and wear skimpy shirts with the lowest possible cuts. I prefer knee-high boots, even out of season. I’m an attention whore, admittedly. Men are fun to tease, sometimes, because they’re cute when stupidly brave and get shut down so easily.

But I enjoy it more when the ladies notice me. They’re sneakier, like me, and like to observe from a distance. The women use their periphery vision more. But I’m good at noticing eye movement and body language. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Mix Up at the Coffee House”

I grow my own vegetables on the side of my house. Cucumbers, tomatoes, carrots, zucchini. I can be a meat-and-potato man too. But I enjoy a wide variety of taste, and love cooking a lot of different foods.

That’s not the point of this story.

The point is, from my garden I have a great view of my neighbor’s living room window. Leigh keeps the drapes shut most days. And I’m not a peeping Tom, and she knows it. We’ve been neighbors for over a year, and regularly do small favors for each other.

At the height of summer, on the hottest days of the year, Leigh kept her living room drapes open. The gauzy curtains were still shut, but I could see her moving around inside, vacuuming.  Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Watering Her Garden”

I’ve always had a thing for bad boys, but never met one I’d sleep with. Just never felt safe around a true bad boy, to let him undress me and use me however he wanted. But that doesn’t kill the fantasy for me.

But when Daryl rode in on his motorcycle, leather clad and with rough facial hair that wasn’t quite a beard yet, I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

I lived in the desert at the time, and it was a dusty late afternoon right before the sun went down. I washed the bookstore windows, for lack of better things to do. Not enough tourists in the middle of the week. To say I was surprised when a biker dude turned a wheelie and parked in front of me, was an understatement. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: A Biker in a Bookstore”

You close the blinds partially. Late afternoon sunlight streams through on the Egyptian cotton bedsheets. Nobody should be able to see through the cracks in the blinds, not if they’re casually walking by. But you like to think a persistent peeping Tom will stroll past. 

On an adults only cruise ship, things like that happen. Right? 

The smell of dripping coffee permeates the little room. You have low expectations of what it will taste like, but it will be hot and bitter and it’ll hit the spot right where you need it. 

You’re wearing the blue two-piece bikini you bought on a lark last spring, as motivation to lose weight. You still think the scale reads the wrong number, and you hate that more than anything. But you love the power to turn heads when you strut by in your high heel wedge sandals.  Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Control”

I was told by older relatives and friends that going to college would be the best experience ever in more ways than one. Supposedly, I was going to meet a boy and have wild sex parties with lots of booze and do things I’d never tell my parents about.

Yeah, bullshit.

Unless I became a lesbian overnight, my little college didn’t have enough suitable sex partners to go around. Girls outnumber the boys by a big margin. All the cute guys don’t last very long. Forget about the creepsters, I’d as soon hang on to my virginity. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Laundry Day”

AUTHOR’S NOTE: Apologies if this is a story I’ve repeated. First, I didn’t realize how many of these flash stories I had. Second, I need a better organization system. Enjoy!

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On Tuesday, I didn’t go to the grocery store to just get laid. I didn’t have to go in the first place, my cupboards and fridge had enough food for a few days. Only needed eggs, milk, and butter. So I wore cut-off jeans that were cut off a wee bit too short, and a low-cut tank top that showed off the little freckled cleavage I have. And what of it if I wore dark wrap-around shades so I could check out guys without them knowing?

Just a typical loony day at the store in the sweltering summer. Every aisle was packed with people and their loaded shopping carts. I used a hand-basket so I could zip around the store and be done. All my stuff was on the outside sections anyway. But I wanted to walk down the frozen aisle anyway. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: The Tuesday Dairy”

It started with her fingernails and hair. Linda always painted her nails in funky colors and designs—red skulls, blue flowers, pink dubious shapes that might’ve been lips of one type or the other. And she used those nails to torture me right before orgasm.

She’d ride me non-stop, our sweaty bodies slapping together and making a musky sexy smell, and then suddenly she’d be scratching me up and down my sides. I’m ticklish as hell, and I always squirmed and laughed despite being near the edge of orgasm.

Then Linda lowered her head so her hair brushed against my face, tickling me even more. Continue reading “Sunday Quickie: Tickled to Orgasm”