Mistress Rochelle has returned to her castle from her annual August quest, and she is enticing us with her own painting of shells in a glass. I kind of did a hard left leaning twisty turn on the prompt (coz TMI) to flesh out my 100-word limited story whilst weaving in some suggestive erotica, playing around, and the results of binge-watching too much Grey’s Anatomy.

My tongue-in-cheek apologies for rubbing-in an R-rated Friday Fictioneers (fantasy) story. If you think you might do better, it’s on! Click on Mistress’s fantabulous watercolour ((winks at Brits and Canucks)) to jump on my bike and wheel on over to Rochelle’s purple pleasure posts to get your ticket to ride.

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Genre: Allman Erotic Fiction
Title: Polyamorous Holiday
Word count: 100

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The lady was an artiste, a trooper. She did it all. When she climbed on behind me, I sang out.
We gotta run to keep from hidin.’ I don’t own the clothes I’m wearin’.

Then she sang.
“Not gonna let ‘em catch us, Midnight Riders.”

She grabbed my crotch and yelled in my ear.
“Ten-day vaycay, Babe. Let’s go before I do you here.”

I sang.
I’ve passed the point of caring. I’ve one more silver dollar.

She squeezed hard.

We crashed.

Ten delightfully romantic days in the hospital. Each day we sang.

“Same old bed we both are sharing.”

***

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Look both ways during those special summer days.
Mind the gaps unless that’s where your hand lays and stays.

***

 

I bogarted and messed around with the lyrics to the song. If you don’t recognize it, here goes… I shudda picked a shorter one, but hey, meh likes it.