“Fuck it!” Georgia ripped the page from the Underwood with such force it tore in two.
She pushed back her chair and stomped towards the kitchen, eliciting a squeal from Percy, the fat tabby at her feet. Glaring at her reproachfully, he retreated to the safety of the bed.
The deadline was looming and she had nothing. Her editor needed a piece of hot flash fiction.
“Hot enough to melt our readers panties and make them slide down their thighs while they fingerfuck themselves to heaven,” were the exact words she used.
But the words just weren’t coming today… and at this rate her readers wouldn’t be either.
Gulping down cold tap water she heard a ding from the MacBook, which meant He was online. A slow grin replaced her frown as she sat at her countertop.
↪ “How’s the story coming along?”
↩ “It’s not…”
↪“ Are you using that antique to write?”
↩ “I can’t type to a screen, not for sex. I need to hit those keys and hear the click-clack.”
↪ “Little weirdo! So, need a helping hand?”
↩ “What do you suggest?”
↪ “Take your top and bra off. Send me evidence.”
She complied, took a shot and sent it to him.
↪ “Good girl. I love to see those pretty pink nipples. Pinch them. Hard.”
↪ “Imagine my teeth on them, biting down, while I shove my fingers inside your wet cunt. Are you wet? Show me.”
Pulling off her shorts and knickers, she opened her legs and angled the cam to take a snap of her glistening lips, her fingers spreading them wide for his viewing.
↪ “Beautiful. Just beautiful. Think of my mouth moving down your body, reaching your smooth mound and biting into your skin, just enough to leave marks, while I pin your hands by your sides. You can’t stop me from sucking on that swollen clit of yours. Not that you’d want to stop me, right?”
Face flushed, breath rasping in her dry throat, she managed to reply.
↩ “ No Sir, please don’t stop.”
↪ “Tell me what you are?”
↩ “ I’m a horny, filthy little slut, Sir.”
↩ “Sorry, Sir. I’m YOUR horny, filthy little slut.”
↪ “That’s better. Maybe, for that indiscretion, I should tell you to stop…”
↩ “Please, Sir! Please don’t make me stop!”
↪ “No. Stop. Now.”
Tears of anger and frustration pricked her eyes.
↪ “Go back, write something so indecent and obscene that you blush with shame as you type it. THEN you may finish.”
↪ “Answer me… or I will deny you for longer.”
↩ “Yes, Sir. I’ve stopped. I am sorry, Sir.”
↪ “Go. Tap on that piece of old junk you love. Make me proud.”
↩ “I will, Sir. Shall I send you a scan of it?”
↪ “Good girl. Yes, I want to see what my little whore thinks up. Now go.”
Still naked, Georgia sat back at the old typewriter. The click-clacking began.
ps – love it when I hit bang on 500!
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