Flash Fiction Wednesday from Tuesday Tales

Those of you that know me, realize how this type of feature rarely comes along. To put it bluntly, I'm a wordy writer. I ramble on and on, filling my writing with details. I've always been the type of writer who wants the person to experience every nuance of what is going on.  So writing this piece was a challenge to say the least.  But I think I pulled it off.  I had 300 hundred words to pull it off, and with the help of my wonderful editor, we did it!  So please enjoy this - my first attempt at flash fiction, all courtesy of the peeps over at Tuesday Tales.  Below is my version of our first picture prompt. But be sure to check out the rest of the prompts HERE or click on the cool button at the top to go back :D

“Where are the kids?”  She pushed his hands away.

“You mean our little demon-spawn?” He nuzzled her neck, backing her towards their tent.

She moaned softly, trusting him to guide her around the cluttered campsite. “Yes.” 

“I drowned them in the lake.”  He whispered, nibbling on her shoulder.

She giggled, nearly stumbling over the stuffed animal her youngest had insisted on bringing. Evidently Mr. Buttons wasn’t as important as their daughter had claimed before they’d left home.

“Seriously – what did you do with them?” Her fingers tightened on his wide shoulders while his wandering fingers popped the clasp on the front of her bra. Her breath caught as he cupped her breasts under her damp shirt.

“I told you, I drowned them.”  He gave her a gentle shove. An unladylike squeal escaped her as she bounced on the air mattress. Her mouth dried out as he grabbed a handful of t-shirt behind his head.  Moments later, his dark torso was exposed to her gaze.  He leered down at her. “Get out of those shorts.”

Her fingers fumbled with the button fly. What had possessed her to buy them?

“Damned if you don’t look sexy in those.”  His hoarse tone caused her thighs to tremble.

Oh yeah, now she remembered.  Tossing them away, she squeaked when his sun-warmed body covered hers.  Exploring fingers tested her readiness.  Amazingly she was damp as if they’d engaged in hours of foreplay.

“Christ, you’re wet.” 

His zipper’s loud rasp filled the humid tent. Then he was there – filling her. A low sob escaped her. 

“Tight.”  He nipped at her shoulder as he moved, pushing her closer to the edge…

“Momma!”  She flushed, jerked out of her day-dreams by the three year old who stood next to the canoe with her husband.


So tell me what you think? Did I do okay for  such a short piece?