Tumblr writing prompt: cheating.

And if I could have it any other way, I’d have him in my bed. But this world isn’t perfect; it’s grimey and crooked and confusing. He sits in a chair in the corner of the hotel room, watching me undress as Interpol plays in the background. I like the way his gaze feels on my shoulder blades as I slip my bra straps down my arms. I can feel his urge to eat me up. The danger of being desired is becoming addicted to the game. My husband has never desired me like my men do. He has never taken me, pushed me up against the wall, torn a skirt off of me. But these men, my men, feed me sexually. Once my bra hits the ground, he charges at me, the chair his the wall with a loud thud from the momentum. He tackles me onto the bed, biting and kissing at my neck and collarbone. No my husband could never want me this much for he lacks passion. And without his passion, I remain unfaithful.


So Close

Pressed. Silently, we stood in his kitchen, the small of my back pressed against his counter. Arctic Monkeys plays from the living room. He breathes down on me, short breaths hitting the left side of my face. He’s stares down at me indifferently. No expression. No hitches in his breathing. His hands at either side of me, pinkies itching to be touched. He grabs my left hand, fingers weak in his strong grip. Slowly, he nibbles each finger tip, one by one, starting from my pinky, working his way to my thumb. Nerves tremble as he now kisses and sucks each tip, never breaking his stare. My lips separate as he does the deed. I envy my fingers getting such attention from such beautiful lips; oh how I’ve fantasized them on my own. The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk as he concludes sucking on my thumb. His index is gently placed under my chin, guiding me towards the place I’ve always felt I belonged, pursed and tasted, enjoyed and savored. I lick my lips in anticipation, ready for the softest crash landing. A long time coming journey comes to unexpected stop, millimeters from home. He smiles devishly as he shakes his head no, abandoning me. He steps away gradually as my body internally crumbles of defeat. The tease leaves me shell shocked and achey. “Later.” he says before he slips out the door to join the party outside.

She was intoxicated. Intoxicated off the reverb. Intoxicated off the seven tequila shots. Intoxicated off his taste. Screams of joy and laughter fought through the EDM noises as lasers pierced through the smokey air. He was nestled into her neck, smothering himself as he licked and bit at her skin. The vibrations of the bass massaged her back. She stood fixated on the crowd, her nerves tingling down to the tips of her nose, her lips, her toes. How did she end up here? Who was this strange leech attached to her body? “I want to taste you.” He pants into her ear. With no response, he drops to his knees and slides underneath her floor length dress. She felt numb, too drunk to flinch so she just watched the insanity ahead of her. Couples violently shoving their tongues down each other’s throats. Arms and hair flailing through the muggy air. Shots being chased with more shots. Then like thunder building in the clouds, the urge to laugh consumed her. She cackled and hollered, laughing so hard she thought she could stop breathing. The leech blanketed by her skirt never released its hold. Suddenly she inhaled deeply, eyes wide with fright. He stood across the room, staring at her, in disbelief. He didn’t recognize the girl at the other side of the club, sloppy and sweaty. How did he find her? Why was he here?! He turns to retreat, never parting ways with her gaze. Back off the wall, arm  extended, she slowly begins to chase after him, knocking the leach to the wet, sticky dance floor. He didn’t need to see her like this. She was a messy, drugged up club girl, a side he had never known, never knew existed until tonight. She whispered, wait, several times to herself as she tried to rush through the crowd to explain. This is only temporary, just a phase. Please don’t judge her. She was so much more than this lifestyle and she knew he knew that. The person he knew her as was now tarnished and she was hoping she would have the chance to fix that. Once she hits the exit, she shouts his name, watching him cross the street. He doesn’t look back. He doesn’t stop. 

Off the dome #3

“Are you sure we have time for this?” He speaks up to her. He knelt before her, her fingers locked into his tresses, with her dress pushed to the right. The slit was designed for frolic. The party was in full swing downstairs; Why not try to get off while people were occupied? 

“You are asking a stupid question at a very inappropriate time.” She tugs at his roots in frustration. She had been thinking about this days leading up to this party. Plotted? Possibly. Did he need to know? No. She could feel the warmth of his breath about her thighs. She quivered anxiously. “Are you seriously trying to get out of this?” You better not say no you shithead. 

He pushed his nose into her crouch. With a deep breath he exhales, “God no…”

With a coy smirk, she pushes his head further into her. She can feel his lips part slightly, the tip of his tongue danced lightly on her moist skin. Her knees grew weak to the teasing, ready for him to dive right in. The wait was killing her. She gripped his hair tighter as he initiated the warm up: spreading her legs a little wider for more room to work with, using his forefinger and thumb to expose her lips, nibbling on them gently then long licks up each side, leaning back to enjoy watching her get wetter. She fought to focus on keeping her strength in her legs that shook as if they were in the blistering cold. When he kissed her right inner thigh, the knee buckled but he caught her. He shifted her from off the wall to the edge of a bed in one of the many rooms that filled the stranger’s home. She gathers the dress and flips over to her left side as he forces her legs open once more. He smiles at her wet pussy, glorifying his work. He takes a thumb and runs it along her clit.


She laughs, “Hey there.”

He resumes. Devouring every bit of her, she groans out, and fastens her hands to the about to be ruined comforter. She can’t take her eyes off him; watching him enjoy her pleases her. The way he used his whole mouth…

There’s a knock at the door. “Is someone in there? We can’t find the groom and…” There’s whispering on the other side. She cocks her head back in anger but he doesn’t stop. A man on a mission. But she is now out of the moment. The whispering has turned into shouting that’s echoing down the hallway. 

“They’re looking for you…we should stop…” She gasps as he does this thing with his tongue that he knows drives her crazy. 

“Fuck no,” is muffled. 

She wasn’t about to argue. She stood urgently, checking her dress for any stains that would give them away. He sat, Indian style, sulking on the hardwood floor. She squats down to be in his eyeline. It was hard to resist those soft brown eyes. 

“You have to get back. They’re on the hunt,” she pushes his hair off his forehead. “This is what you chose. Now go clean your face…you smell like pussy.” 

My last words

Instantaneously, there she laid her head on the busted window. Murky blood was dripping down the left side of her head. Everything around her was silent. Her slender fingers trembled along the edges of her iPhone. She was positive someone already called 911 but she knew there was another call she needed to make, especially if she thought she was going to die here in the middle of the intersection. It had been years since she’d spoken to him but there was more she craved to say. With all the strength she had left in her hands, she touched the address book icon on the cracked screen. In her peripheral vision, she saw a young white teenager with panicked eyes speaking to her. If only she could read lips. Bloody fingerprints covered the splintered glass on the phone. Phone to her ear,
“What do you want?”
As soon as the words were spoken, sounds of screaming people and car horns came crashing down around her. Tears flew from her eyes. In a few deep breaths she composed herself to say,
“I miss you; I only wanted to be with you once again. I wish you never met her so that way I could work just a little to get you back. We’re only friends in my dreams but I want to make those dreams into a reality. I just thought you should know how bad I still love you before I died on this pavement.”
Sirens in the background echoed as each tear burned the cuts on her cheek. Now he was shouting, “Where are you?! What’s wrong?! Where can I find you?!” Her vision was growing dark now. As everything faded away, she only hoped once it came back that she would see him. That was her dying wish.