Hey, Everybody! Finally trying to make a comeback from my unexpectedly lengthy health issues, and happily rejoining my friends at Flasher Friday Fiction!
Every Friday, we all use a pic lovingly chosen by our majestic leaders and use this pic as our prompt to write 100 words - no more, no less. After you take a look at this one, click here to take a peek at my friends' posts, too. Unlike my heroine this week, you won't be disappointed. LOL Oh, and we LOVE comments. Here's the pic and my take on it...
We met at a cast party. Such a great dancer, our bodies gyrating in tandem, and he’s fuckin’ hot to look at, but now…
“You okay?” His voice is strained. What? Really?
Collecting myself. “Um, yeah. Fine.”
Hell no! I’m not ‘okay!’ I’m disappointed, disillusioned, still horny as hell. I can’t believe I wore my rockin’ gold mini just to end up pummeled, pawed, uncomfortable, and dissatisfied.
Why do I still have these damned uncomfortable heels on, anyway? His idea of sexy.
“Sure you’re okay?” He peeps at me from between my legs, a wounded puppy.
“Sure. That was…great.”