Tagged: romance

Edwina Has a Tendency

  • k-avatarI want to kiss you but I can’t
  • with the books and the plants
  • to curse and get nasty
  • I lit her cigarette
  • hid myself therein for many, many months

Edwina has a tendency to curse and get nasty when she hasn’t had a fix, so I lit her cigarette as quickly as possible. She took a long drag before muttering around the tube of putrid death pinched squarely in the center of her lips, “I want to kiss you but I can’t take this coffin nail out of my mouth.” Another lengthy drag and half of the cigarette was drooping ashes. “So you’ll have to wait,” she added, her words emerging in a gray plume that scattered flakes of ash into my face. I forgave her. Poor thing hadn’t had a smoke in almost a year. Her father kept her locked away in the conservatory with the books and the plants. Meanwhile, I nearly got caught sneaking around the grounds. I dashed to the cabana and hid myself therein for many, many months until the seasons turned and Edwina’s parents stopped using the pool so much and I could finally join her indoors.

 

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Blaine Approached the Tennis Court

  • by jenin small gold letters
  • five minutes or an hour
  • your love was just a game
  • “Let him speak!”
  • so weak and emaciated

Blaine approached the tennis court bleachers where Lucille sat with her gaggle of girlfriends, watching the match. She saw him coming and stood to leave, but Gertrude grabbed her by the elbow and said, “Let him speak!”

It mattered not if he spoke for five minutes or an hour, Blaine knew he had no hope of winning her back, so he read the speech he had prepared ahead of time which was printed in small gold letters on an index card and cupped in the palm of his left hand. “Your love was just a game, Lucille, like tennis, and I so weak and emaciated from the nonstop playing of it that I could not help but lose.”

And with what little dignity he still possessed, he turned and strode away, leaving Gertrude and the others all awhisper.

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Whenever She Talked About Dieter

  • by jenwhen she found out he was married
  • exaggerated his size
  • seating configuration woes
  • blue-gray vest with silvery buttons.
  • now have caught up with the Hamburger

Whenever she talked about Dieter, Brittany exaggerated his size, both in the financial and genital departments. She planned an elaborate dinner party to introduce him to her entire family. But when she found out he was married, to some hausfrau in Hamburg, the small apartment’s seating configuration woes seemed hardly worth mentioning, at least not in comparison to her vendetta.

“His lies now have caught up with the Hamburger, as has the woman he scorned,” Brittany growled. “Hell hath no fury, Dieter.”

There were tears on his blue-gray vest with silvery buttons, along with blood and sweat. Brittany had at least never had to exaggerate the size of his wardrobe.

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Ofttimes In My Job as a Wedding Planner

  • by jenplays cat and mouse with the yakuza
  • simply wasn’t awesome enough
  • in blissful ignorance of the preparations
  • liked each other sincerely enough that there was little awkwardness
  • one helluva romp

Ofttimes in my job as a wedding planner I am at the beck and call of a very demanding and challenging bride, but none in my experience were worse than Catrinka. Popular culture calls these women “Bridezillas” but I see Catrinka as a different sort of Japanese-inspired trope: the geisha who plays cat and mouse with the yakuza and Daddy’s checkbook.

Nothing could please Catrinka. No matter how spectacular or expensive an item or venue, it simply wasn’t awesome enough for Catrinka. Her groom-to-be, Harold, meanwhile meandered along in blissful ignorance of the preparations. He cared naught for the details of the wedding or reception as long as the bachelor party was, in his words, “one helluva romp.” Catrinka didn’t give a fig what he and his friends got up to with the strippers as long as Harold arrived on time to the wedding wearing the proper color bow tie and socks. The betrothed liked each other sincerely enough that there was little awkwardness in this arrangement. And the checks all cleared, so I suppose I ultimately have nothing to complain about.

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Rodrigo Chuckled Softly

  • by jenI’m very sensitive to smell
  • in a tizzy about the specter of sweaty boobs
  • Summer’s Eve can go douche itself
  • for nearly a week
  • killed in a skiing accident

Rodrigo chuckled softly and tugged on the waistband of Siobhan’s panties. “Summer’s Eve can go douche itself, babe. I’m very sensitive to smell and I’ve never noticed a problem.”

“I’d rather be killed in a skiing accident than have an embarrassing odor,” Siobhan simpered.

For nearly a week she’d been fretting about feminine hygiene. This was almost as bad as the time they went to the beach and she worked herself up in a tizzy about the specter of sweaty boobs. Rodrigo wished she could see herself as the beautiful woman she was, and not pay any attention to the predatory marketing efforts of the world’s “beauty” conglomerates.

Rodrigo winked and tugged Siobhan’s panties lower. “Give me an hour and we’ll get you good and stinky. Deal?”

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“How Much Do You Drink?” She Asked.

  • by jenHow much do you drink?
  • on the Indonesian island of Flores
  • looks pretty cute in his mugshot
  • vital, sunburnt, carefree
  • dazed but not seriously injured

How much do you drink?” she asked.

“Like I’m on vacation on the Indonesian island of Flores,” he assured.

She eyed him with a smirk. “You look like a guy who looks pretty cute in his mugshot: vital, sunburnt, carefree. Like the bar fight you were arrested for left you dazed but not seriously injured.”

He shrugged and she admired his lazy smile. “But in any case, you have the right to remain silent.” She cuffed his wrists together behind his back. “I’ll have to ask the booking officer if I can have a copy of your mugshot to see if I’m right.”

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“I Don’t Care That You’re Married, Genevieve”

  1. by jenCharacter – cheating wife
  2. Setting – witch’s cottage
  3. Object – sequined handbag
  4. Situation – I smell smoke

“I don’t care that you’re married, Genevieve,” cried Wilhelm. “So am I, and I won’t let it keep us apart.”

The beautiful raven-haired woman behind the cauldron nodded and held out her hand, and Wilhelm handed over her gift. As she opened it, Wilhelm admired the pale green undertones in her silky complexion and the way the firelight danced in her deep black eyes. Those lovely dark orbs sparkled with delight when she saw the sequined handbag under all the layers of tissue paper. Or was it the smoke that made them glisten?

“Thank you darling, it’s lovely,” Genevieve purred. She pulled a ladle from the voluminous folds of her long black gown and scooped up some of the liquid from her bubbling vat. The fumes made Wilhelm’s head spin. Genevieve carefully poured the effervescent concoction into a vial and handed it to Wilhelm.

“Have your wife drink this and our troubles will be over.”

“What about your husband?”

Genevieve smiled lazily. “Let me worry about him.”

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Jason Crossed the Restaurant

  • by jencash prize of $100,000
  • Is that your usual walk?
  • if any part of your body is frozen
  • A little rubbing of the limbs
  • Jason, what happened?
  • asking for a dragon of her own
  • traveling at a furious rate

Jason crossed the restaurant, traveling at a furious rate. He was shivering.

Jason, what happened?” asked Holly. “Is that your usual walk?

“Georgia locked me in the walk-in freezer!” Jason exclaimed.

Holly rolled her eyes and waved her hand dismissively. “A little rubbing of the limbs is all you need if any part of your body is frozen.” She eyed his zipper. “Is any, er, part of your body frozen, Jason?”

“You don’t understand!” Jason snapped. “Georgia knows about us. Now, thanks to that damn prenup she’s going to get a cash prize of $100,000!”

“Your dragon of a lawyer will take care of everything,” Holly assured.

“Georgia’s already asking for a dragon of her own,” Jason sighed. “I’m screwed.”

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Aarto Hammersmith Was a Tall Norwegian Man

  • by jena pair of filthy feet
  • an enormous cantilevered balcony
  • a bin of oval fish
  • On a sailboat?
  • Free-Range Antelope Chops
  • a tall Norwegian

Aarto Hammersmith was a tall Norwegian man with blond hair, bright blue eyes, and a penchant for sailing inherited from his viking forefathers. Standing on the prow of a ship made Aarto feel like he had discovered an enormous cantilevered balcony over the fjords of his homeland.

When the ship docked in Tokyo harbor it took on several passengers and a bin of oval fish of a type Aarto had never seen before. Intrigued, he tracked down the owner of the bin to ask what the odd oval fish were called. He found her sitting on the deck, dangling a pair of filthy feet through the railing. They were, in fact, her own feet, which was good news to Aarto because she was gorgeous: a beautiful Japanese marine biologist named Hiromi Sakai. They spent the afternoon together talking fish and falling in love. That night at dinner Hiromi, explaining that she never ate the fish she adored, ordered Free-Range Antelope Chops.

Antelope chops? thought Aarto. On a sailboat?

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Underneath the Fancy Bustle

  • by jensmooth as a sunset
  • too young to produce
  • her naked bottom was small
  • It was a truck-driver bang
  • president of Midnight Mink
  • clench her fists and stomp her feet

Underneath the fancy bustle, her naked bottom was small. Her inability to afford surgery to augment it drove Shirley to clench her fists and stomp her feet in frustration. She was too young to produce movies, which was her life’s ambition, and this led to more frustration.

“Why did I ever move to Hollywood?” she wailed.

Shirley’s moment of self-doubt was interrupted by a loud knock at her door. It was a truck-driver bang, she thought, but when she opened the door she found not a truck driver, but the President of Midnight, Mink McGee, with his pale, pale skin and his auburn hair as smooth as a sunset. The look in his deep blue eyes told Shirley that Mink did not find her naked bottom too small.

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