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Oral Sex Workshop (or Victoria, Your Twenty Minutes Start NOW) – flash fiction

banana

Each of our Sultry Scribes writers closed her eyes, opened a magazine, and pointed to her topic. Mine? Oral Sex Lessons! Here it is:

 
Caitlyn poked out her tongue while she stood in front of the mirror. How far should it stick out?

Glancing back down at the magazine, she quickly skimmed the relevant paragraph. Mmm. It didn’t really say.

She squared her shoulders and stared at herself in the mirror. “Caitlyn,” she said sternly to the skinny young fair-haired freckled woman, “you are going to do this.”

Her reflection seemed to pale.

“Yes, you are,” she insisted firmly. “Darling. Naming no names.” Caitlyn rolled her eyes as she mimicked the throaty tones of her older sister’s best friend, Juliana. Then she ground her teeth together as she and her reflection glowered at each other.

Plopping back down on the bed, she snatched up the magazine, determined to get the hang of this oral sex thing. But the words blurred as she remembered last night.

As she reviewed the flow of the conversation, she stiffened. The…the…bitch. Juliana had brought up the topic herself, right at the start of the night. She’d toyed with the strawberry from her champagne, sliding it in and out of her mouth. Caitlyn snorted. Was that supposed to be seductive? It made her sick, all that spit sticking to the strawberry.

Caitlyn’s throat tightened, her bottom lip wobbled, and two tears trickled down her face. Hayden had stared, fascinated, at Juliana throughout the long excruciating evening. She’d leaned across the table, baring even more of her huge boobs, and had said with a knowing wink, “Darling, some people, naming no names, are quite talented in that direction.”

There was a knock at the door. Damn. Hayden. She’d only got to the tongue loosening exercise.

Quickly wiping her face, she raced to the door, dropping the magazine, still in her hands, onto the dining room table. Hayden stood in the doorway with a bunch of roses, grinning. Before she could say a word, he swept her up in a big bear hug, then carried her inside. “Sweetheart, it’s so good to see you.” He lowered his curly head far down to hers and kissed her. His trademark, yummy, sigh-worthy, soft, gentle kiss. As he drew away, he laughed, as he always did, at her sigh. “What about that Juliana last night? Dahling,” he said, his voice a low, throaty growl, “Some people are quite talented in that direction.” His blue eyes twinkled as he chuckled. “God, I laughed all the way home.”

“You…you weren’t…um…interested in that whole…um…oral sex thing?” Caitlyn said, licking her dry lips.

His eyes fell to the magazine article on the table. Its huge headlines seemed to have transplanted themselves across her heated forehead.

ORAL SEX WORKSHOP —BLOW BY BLOW TIPS.

“Baby,” he said softly, “we’ll get to that one day, but for now, let’s go out to dinner. We can take things as slowly as you like.”

As he went off in search of a vase, Caitlyn breathed out a whole lungful of air. She picked up the magazine and went to throw it into the rubbish bin.

But a sudden giggle tickled at her throat. The picture of the banana drew her eyes to the article’s first key point: How to Get Him To Go Down There More Often.

Maybe she wouldn’t throw the magazine away.

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Roxanne, Your Twenty Minutes Start…Now!

At our latest Sultry Scribes meeting, we wrote onto slips of paper, a noun, an adjective, and an emotion, then dropped those words into separate bowls. Each person then ‘lucky dipped’ to choose her own three words, all of which had to appear somewhere in her story.

My three words were: window, hungry, manic window

The Honourable Emily Honeywood shivered as a cold breeze brushed the back of her neck. She turned up the collar of her brother’s greatcoat and continued to stare in through the lighted window. Inside she could see the man she watched relaxed before the warmth of a roaring fire, with what looked to be a brandy in one hand and a book in the other. Lucien, Marquess of Thornbury appeared to be the epitome of gentlemanly refinement. But Emily knew otherwise. She had been watching him for three nights now and tonight she knew what she had to do.

Cold seeped up her legs despite her sturdy boots, and her stomach rumbled. How unladylike. Aunt Prue would be shocked. But Emily was hungry having had to skip dinner and plead a headache so that she would not be missed. But then Aunt Prue would be beyond shocked, she would be positively manic if she could see Emily now, standing in the shadows, dressed in her brother’s clothes, watching a gentleman.

As she continued to stare into the light she saw his lordship lay aside his book and stand. Emily’s hand shook as it closed about the gun in her pocket. The time was now.