Nov
20
#5minutefiction: Week 126
It’s 5 Minute Fiction time! You know the rules (and if you don’t, check here — but make it quick because you have only got a few minutes!), so here is your prompt:
Your entry must contain “like little birds.”
NOTE: the photo (source) is not part of the prompt–it’s decorative/inspirational only.
This week’s judge is Lady Cheeky. (You can learn more about her by clicking that link, but we suggest you wait until 8:45pm. Time is short!)
The overall winner of this week’s 5 Minute Fiction wins an copy of Anais Nin’s Little Birds!
“[It is] so distinct an advance in the depiction of female sensuality that I felt, on reading it, enormous gratitude.” —Alice Walker
A Few Notes:
- In the interest of time and formatting, it’s best to type straight into the comment box or notepad. It’s also smart to do a quick highlight and copy before you hit “post” just in case the internets decide to eat your entry. If your entry doesn’t appear right away, email us.
- We’re a little more strict on what we will allow. We reserve the right to remove entries:
- involving sexual activity with animals or minors (under 18);
- involving non-consensual sexual acts;
- involving substantial verbal abuse or deliberate and extreme humiliation;
- involving hate speech or racism;
- involving cutting, incest, necrophilia, snuff, or weapons;
- or similar, but other than than that we’re not too picky.
- This is all for fun and self-promotion. So be sure to put your twitter handle or similar at the end of your post and a link to your blog, if you have one.
Go, go, go! You have until 8:45pm ET (On the dot. Yes, we’re serious) to submit your entry in the comments section of THIS POST.
We’ll see you back here at 10pm EST with the finalists.
The fluttering in her stomach felt like little birds, frantically flapping against a too-small cage.
She stood in front of Mark and tried to smile through her anxiety, while her hands fluttered along with the birds in her stomach with the need to cover…well…everything.
Sarah had never felt particularly attractive. Throughout her teenage years, her mother “helped” by suggesting diet after diet, convinced that if her daughter could just lose a few pounds she’d feel better about herself.
Dating had been a joke in high school and college. She’d learned quickly that guys who expressed an interest in her were typically looking for a shallow, temporary relationship centered around sex.
Then she’d met Mark.
He’d come into her bookstore to find a title that had been out of print for years. They’d talked for almost two hours, and Sarah had felt an immediate connection with him. She’d let herself hope that he’d come back, and when he did, she immediately cautioned herself against assuming too much.
He invited her out to dinner. She convinced herself that he was just looking for an adventurous eating partner to try out a new restaurant.
He invited her to the movies. She convinced herself that he was simply uninterested in going to a movie by himself.
Then he invited her to his apartment for what turned out to be an intimate, carefully prepared, and completely delightful dinner.
Now, three months later, she found herself standing in front of one of the sweetest, sexiest men she’d ever known. Wearing a negligee that the salesperson–a size zero, Sarah was sure–assured her was both flattering and sexy.
Her eyes lifted to meet his.
And the heat there burned all the little birds to a crisp, stilled her hands, and lit a matching fire that made her smile and meet him in the middle of the wide bed.
She screamed again. There was no stopping the moans of pleasure that escaped her lips. Her hands begged to tangle in his long thick hair but the restraints at her wrists stopped her. His tongue was like a whip. Lashing and thrusting into her pussy. His hand held her down firmly, grasping at her hips. There were sure to be marks and small smile crossed her lips.
“Oh, god. Kaleb!” Her voice was raspy as she moaned again. This time his fingers entered her. Hard and fast. There was no slow loving for her tonight. Kaleb was in a mood and he was taking her to places she had never been before. He was getting impatient, she could sense and he growled against her humming clit.
“Cum for me Cait. Do it now or you won’t be allowed to again tonight” His dark lushes voice wrapped around her like a warm blanket and she was helpless to stop the release that was breaking through her body. His fingers thrusting in and out while his tongue lapped at her sweet nectar. She was tied down but she had never felt more free. Kaleb sucked on her clit and that was her undoing. Her back arched and she was free falling over the edge. Her eyes rolling back in her head she tried to catch her break as she came back down. She was so high and lost that she didn’t think she would come to. Slowly her lips opened, fluttering so hard and fast to get her bearings, they were like little bird about to take flight.
She smiled slowly when she saw his face. He leaned down and kissed her lips. Her sticky sweet juices still on his mouth. She had never tasted so good then when he made her come undone.
http://eroticscribe.tumblr.com/
https://twitter.com/SarahSnyder_
Both sides are criss-crossed with scars, like little birds had danced up her forearms and scratched thin white lines into her skin.
She was afraid to show me, insisting on “shirt on” or “lights off” for months. “I’m damaged,” she said.
The first time I saw, I didn’t ask why.
“Can you still feel this?” I asked, dragging a fingertip from her palm to her elbow.
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“This?” I nipped at the base of her thumb before kissing up to her shoulder.
She shuddered. “Yeah.”
“Seems like you work just fine,” I whispered, lips brushing her ear. I hold her by her shoulders, keeping her still while I bite and suck at the base of her neck. My hands slide down to hers, thumbs lingering over the pulse points at her wrists.
Her lips twitched into a smile. “Yeah, I guess I do.”
-@sadtomatoff
The beach had never looked more grey. The water, hard as steel, slapped the sand flat. The clouds hung heavy with snow and the wind which was anything but a breeze whistled through the poplars long stripped of their leaves.
I sat there, clutching the beer until my fingers ached from the cold, switching it from hand to hand, alternately warming the other up under my sweater, the only part of me with any warmth left in it.
No question. I’d waited too long. The girls had walked back and forth in front of the lot we were clearing no fewer than six times. The first one had been strange enough. They had to be year-rounders. My dad and I were the only two cottagers crazy enough to be working outside this late in November.
Like little birds, they passed back and forth, giggling, pretending to ignore me while I stole glances between swings of the axe. Was it the lumberjack thing? Was it how I fitted my T-shirt? I’d never been looked at like that before but I figured it out quickly enough.
By the time my dad told me I could take a break, check it out, it had been twenty minutes since the last walk by. I snuck a beer from the cooler, thinking it would make me look hip, hustled to the beach and froze my gonads off. My mind filled with hottest of dreams.
It goes like this…
Carve our names in the earth. Watch the dust swoop and swirl like little birds. Wait.
Will he come?
Will he leave me here, wanting … burning?
Sun streams across my bare arms while jetliners roar overhead. Tarmac waiving in the sunfire, chain links announcing someone else’s escape. Our favorite spot. On the other side of adventure. So close to living a real life. We dream other people’s dreams. We find joy in the possibility that one day it’ll be us thousands of feet in the sky, like Icarus touching the sun.
My fingers are dry and cracked with red desert clay. Sweat beads at my neck. Birds fly. Planes fly. In my mind, I soar.
An engine roars and settles. Door slams. Engine click-clacking as it cools.
Cowboy boots and a shadow across my face. He’s here. To fly to my arms. To dream another dream.
@_SDRyan_
Love was like little birds, she told me. You nurture it, you feed it from your mouth, words that mean everything. Words like, yours are the eyes I want to see when I first open mine in the morning. Words like, yours is the hair I want to match the gray of mine. Words like, forever is never enough.
But one thing she didn’t mention was how, at some point, little birds fly away. And how every flap of the wing hurts a little more. A little more.