Microfiction

In Mercy She Finds

He's not her type. It was just a mercy fuck—a favor for a friend. Now she can't catch her breath, and she's coming again.

Their date—once a chore—turned on a dime. She was faking it—until she wasn't. His shy charm and thoughtfulness tugged at her heart. When she suggested going to his place after, it was no longer part of the plan.

He's hung, and he lasts. Her best sex in ages. The look in his eyes as they cuddle makes her feel desired, not used. It's been a long time.

No need for ride. She's staying the night.

****

Her Work Hubby

He bathes before coming. She likes him. So she puts on a show. His homely, scarred face fills with joy from the sound of her moans. In less than a minute, it's over. He comes with a groan, and then collapses to shudder beside her.

She snuggles in close, and listens once he has the breath. He listens too. Five years of catharsis now. They both need it more than either will admit. His half price hour goes by in no time at all.

He gets a kiss at the door. A real one.

She'll see him next week.

****

Stolen

They have twenty minutes. It's all they could steal. There's no time for romance or foreplay. They've gone without for too long.

He drops his pants. She lifts her skirt. That's as long as they'll wait. Their coupling is frantic—almost violent. A clash of bodies, screams, and growls. Soon she's coming so hard that she's light in the head.

She drops to weak knees, and he erupts down her throat. They needed it so bad, but it barely quells the hunger.

A quick wash. A mint. A lingering kiss.

Then it's time to go back home to their spouses.

****

Scarlet Muse

He stares at the blank page—his typewriter silent. The sunlit field full of poppies where he sits should inspire, but the words won't come today.

Then she appears. Her red hair and red dress evoke the flowers around her. She's stunning and smiling so sultrily.

No words. She bares her breasts, drops his pants, lifts her skirt, and she rides him. She sways like the poppies in a mesmerizing dance of lust. It's pure heavenly bliss. She comes with a squeal, and he groans as he fills her.

A final kiss and she's gone.

His typewriter is no longer silent.

****

Eruption

Twenty-two days in the field. Close quarters. No privacy. On the edge of a volcano, with zero relief.

Now he's finally home, and making up for lost time. She's climaxed more times than she can count, but he's close. With a growl, he finally pulls out.

She whimpers from the sudden emptiness, then yelps as he explodes. Thick ropes close an eye in a sudden splatter. He roars like a volcano, and erupts like one too. It's everywhere. Her tits. Her cheek. Up in her hair. His hot cum a salve they both needed so badly.

What a happy homecoming.

****

Class Dismissed

I freeze as I walk past the window and she tosses away her bra. Her tits are incredible. Once my teacher—now just a neighbor—and almost completely bare.

I can't move. Can she see me? Does she even care? Down go her panties, revealing a triangle of red hair. She stretches and her back arches—tits and ass in full view. I'm mesmerized by her, and hard enough to cut glass.

She sits on the bed, glances toward me, and smiles. She runs her fingers through her red locks—a stunning display. A final wink, a word, and out goes the light.

****

Road Show

It's hard to pay attention to the road. We're heading home, but she has a hand in her shorts, and she's going to town.

She said she couldn't wait, so I said to do something about it. I didn't think she'd do it, but I shouldn't have doubted. Every car we pass knows. They can't help but see. Her face is turning red, and she's writhing in the seat.

A truck slows down and matches our pace. Just like me, they can see it in her face. I hit my exit and leave them behind.

Sorry guys, the finale's mine.

****

Come Get Your Robe

She stands in the hall, naked, blushing, and covering herself with her hands. Somehow, I turn my head. It's hard, because she's stunning.

I offer my robe and my room, so she can call the front desk.

The staff's on the ball, and they get there quick. As he leaves, my door opens, and she steps back outside. She looks no less beautiful wrapped in my robe.

She's still flushed as she thanks me, but there's no shame in her eyes. Her sultry voice gives me chills when she leans in and whispers, "Why don't you come get your robe?"

****

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed these bite-sized naughty bits. I know this kind of thing isn't for everyone. I've been writing a few here and there, and finally have enough to collect into a submission. Please take a moment to vote. ( once per reader ) Comments are certainly welcome as well.