I admit, I chose this picture unsure of the direction to go with my story. Then, as is often the case, I latched onto one detail and it kicked off a train of thoughts. See if you can spot my prompt.
I’m mortified. I try to wear an innocent expression, but it fails. I can’t begin to explain my actions over the past few weeks.
Dating two men at the same time—a big no-no. Dating brothers? A disaster in the making.
They look so alike, sound it too. One has red hair, the other doesn’t. Ron—the red-head—slightly taller, witty, while Dave, the quieter one, the listener to my rants.
I called Dave on the telephone, chatted away and slipped up. I’d said something specific about Ron to Dave. The line went silent. Dave hung up.
An hour later, turning up on her doorstep together, they grill me and compare notes. Not about the sex, thank goodness, but where it happened: my bedroom, the little hotel at the end of the street, the bench behind Mrs Wainwright’s house…
“It’s the thrill,” I confess. Two strapping hunks.
“I can’t make up my mind which of you I like the best,” I admit.
The brothers glance at each other, then back at me. “Well,” says Ron slyly, “Stop trying.”
I lean back on the worktop, my body afflicted by tiny shivers, especially around my neck and scalp. “Really?”
“Yes, really,” says Dave. “Ron and I are close. We do everything together.”
“Oh,” The word slips out softly and I lick my lips. “Everything.”
Ron folds his arms. “Starting from today, missy, you’ll not lie or go behind our backs.”
Dave fingered his belt buckle “Ron and I will make sure you understand.”
My eyes widen.
Ron tucks his thumbs under his belt. “You’ll go upstairs, Felicity, take off you panties, pull up your skirt and bend over the bed.”
Dave isn’t smirking. “We’ll give you a thorough spanking, then we’ll all feel much better about this, won’t we?”
I freeze, bolted to the spot. Both of them spank my tush! I swallow the spasm in my throat. “I am sorry,” I say pathetically.
“We know,” says Ron. “Now be a good girl and do as you’re told. Upstairs, panties off, bottom up in the air ready for your strapping.”
Reaching the door, my legs tremble, my heart is burning into my breast. I turn. The brothers beam at me from across the room, unmoved, unperturbed. Damn, they’re sexy.
The penny drops. They’ve known for ages. Of course they have. Brothers talk. What a fool I’d been to think I’d get away with it. My belly churns, delighted that my subterfuge hasn’t spurned them.
Maybe everything is going according to plan.
I race upstairs, kick off my heels and yank down my panties. The skirts flies high as I flip it up and I toss a pillow under my hips.
Waiting. Grinding my toes into the carpet pile. Listening to the old clock tick on the dresser. My butt clenches in time to the pendulum. Little missy’s bottom is going to pay for this.
One footstep, then another. Two pairs of boots climb the stairs.
I squeeze my eyes tight shut and giggle.
A little touch of hair colouring sparked my idea.
Do you want to join in? Don’t be shy.
The lightly applied rules:
- No more than 500 words, but as little as I like. It could be poem if I’m short on time.
- Something related to the prompt – it can begin it, or end it. It could be the background or the action, the setting or the people or maybe the words incorporated into the story.
- It’s going to be erotic or romantic, possibly spanking or kink, but not every time. It depends on what comes to mind.
- It got to be original. No excerpts or works in progress. If it turns into something bigger, great, that’s what I find flash fiction useful for – story ideas.
- No cliffhangers. Preferably a beginning, middle and some kind of conclusion.
If you want to join in, just add your link in the comments when I post my story.