Sexy Flash Fiction
"Bubblegum Pink," an erotic Vanilla short story by Lorraine Sears
Pointing the Way, by Lochai (prints available at ObsessionArt.com)
Pulling the bubblegum-pink, four-inch heels from the back of her wardrobe, Tess frowned. Why he liked these damn things so much was beyond her. Cheap vinyl; they made her feet sweat and in warm weather always gave her blisters. And why pink? She threw them in her tote bag and reached up for the micro denim piece. Lunchtime on the last Friday of every month—it was the same old story.
With her thong cutting her up the middle like rusty cheese wire and her beloved Wonderbra holding the girls high and proud, she admired herself in the mirror. Cheap at half the price, she thought. She shuddered to think what her mum would say if she knew what Tess got up to. Pulling her jeans up, she noted that the denim skirt she now had on over her pants was so short it could work perfectly as a belt.
An hour later, Tess was in the multi-story car park. She checked her kohl blackened eyes and the vile, shoe-matching lipstick in the rear view mirror. She tousled her hair for extra body until she was finally satisfied it was just the he liked it. She buttoned her jacket to the neck and left the car to make her way to their regular meeting place.
Five minutes early, as usual, in the grotty alley between Weatherspoons restaurant and the building society head office. She wriggled out of her jacket and jeans and slipped on the heels, stuffing the unnecessary clothes and comfy shoes in her bag. Adjusting her breasts to show as much creamy flesh as the low cut top would allow, she shrank back into the recess of a fire escape, assuming the pose for maximum tits and ass exposure.
The high walled passageway stank of stale beer, rotting food, and the dog ends of a thousand smokers all kicked out in the cold for their thrice-daily nicotine fix. Why he liked this spot was a mystery, but he paid well so, no questions asked.
“Hello Tess.”
His regular greeting was all the warning she got before she was yanked into his embrace and his tongue force its way into her mouth. Tense at first, she soon melted into it. But the kiss didn’t last long before she was forced to her knees in the accumulated filth and dead leaves swept in the doorway.
Praying, as she always did, that there wouldn’t be a fire evacuation, her manicured hand snaked up his thigh and unzipped the trousers of his charcoal suit. His cock was already hard and sprang from the confinement of the material.
“Mmm,” she murmured as her tongue flicked out to taste him. His hands reached down to lift her tits out of the bra. She winced as the wire dug into her and the material pinched her flesh. He didn’t care.
“Open your mouth, bitch.”
Tess obliged. The quicker she got him off, the quicker she could get her money and leave. He never complained if it happened quickly. It was a straightforward business transaction; he got his blowjob and she got paid. Her lips and tongue found a rhythm that worked for him as he grunted and thrust in her mouth. It didn’t take long for that first salty drop to hit her taste buds.
Bracing herself against the increasing force of his body, she had one hand on his thigh and the other gripped the brickwork. His hand fisted tight in her hair, making her moan; he was close. Her skirt had ridden up round her waist, exposing her ass to the wind that chased down the narrow alley. If she wasn’t so cold and so terrified of getting caught, she might actually enjoy acting the slut.
The half sob, half grunt he gave was her cue, and she opened her mouth wide and gagged on the length of him as he shoved himself down her throat. Warmth hit the back of her tongue, forcing her gag reflex again. Arms stretched out to either side of the doorway, she held on and closed her eyes, ignoring the taste of warm wallpaper paste as it filled her mouth.
“Done,” he croaked.
Keeping her lips together, she sucked the last drops from him and swallowed, trying to keep the look of distaste from her face. She stood up and smoothed her skirt down, shrugging her tits back inside her top. The meagre warmth of her scant clothes was a welcome relief.
Murphy leaned forward and kissed his wife’s cheek. “Thanks babe, you’re the best.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied with a sexy grin. He handed her a wad of notes; one hundred and fifty pounds, her personal monthly shopping allowance. How she had ever agreed to his sordid little fantasy she couldn’t remember. But the deed was done for another month, and she could go shopping and enjoy herself.
Before Tess pulled her jeans back on, Murphy took the opportunity to smack her bear behind. “See you at home tonight.”
Copyright November 2011, Lorraine Sears.
Published with permission from author on OystersandChocolate.com. Copying or reprinting this work in part or in whole without permission is illegal.