Tagged: seduction

If I Went Back the Way I’d Come

  • by jensitting there, all puckered up
  • there was this guy there
  • surreptitiously unbutton the top of your shirt
  • It was implied.
  • “Truly.”

Tune in next time part 201                           Click Here for Earlier Installments

If I went back the way I’d come I’d end up in the rocket surgery with Jim, the Professor’s girlfriend, and the remains of poor Absinthia. I hated the thought of seeing her sitting there, all puckered up and bloody, so I began to search for another exit. There were no other visible doors, but perhaps there was a hidden passageway. I ran my hands along the walls, feeling for seams, and eavesdropping on Jim’s conversation.

“But who was that guy?” asked a feminine voice, probably the Professor’s one-legged girlfriend.

“What guy?” drawled Jim.

“When I got here with the ransom note, there was this guy there with your sisters!” the woman said. “I saw him!”

“I didn’t see a guy,” Jim lied. Whatever his reasons for lying, he was doing me a favor. I kept up my search. Maybe he was in on the Professor’s kidnapping.

“Don’t you surreptitiously unbutton the top of your shirt at me, Jim,” the woman said. “I’m not going to be distracted by your muscles and all of your sexy chest hair. You can’t seduce your way out of this one.”

“Who says I’m trying to seduce you?” Jim purred.

It was implied. By the striptease. And by the way you’ve got your hands on my hips now.” She sounded distracted.

“I’d never use sex as a distraction,” Jim said. “Truly.”

I heard kissing noises.

Just then my fingers found a hidden button near the top of the wall, which, when pressed, caused a panel to slide open, revealing a fire pole. The problem was I was standing at the base of it. I peered up into the darkness above, trying to gauge how high it was and whether I had the strength to climb it.

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I Stand in the Rain

  • by jencan’t you hear the thunder?
  • “You shut up!”
  • one gold, one black
  • brown skin and a flat skull
  • Leonard is a strange person

I stand in the rain, gazing at the man beside me. Leonard is a strange person, but undeniably attractive. His eyes entrance me, one gold, one black, nestled in brown skin and a flat skull like faberge eggs in an ornate display case.

I try to tell him I love him, but he leans in close. “Can’t you hear the thunder?” he whispers in my ear, making me shiver. “That rumbling is Zeus’s way of saying ‘You shut up!’ to us mortals.”

I try once more to speak. Leonard’s ornately colored eyes hold mine and he lays his finger across my lips. “Shhh,” he breathes, “you don’t want to anger Zeus.”

And he’s right. I don’t. I lean in and press my lips to his just as a bright bolt of lightning illuminates the sky.

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I Couldn’t Help Laughing at Chet

  • by jenhe was a full-grown man
  • tiny clothes that actually fit
  • drew a revolver from his belt
  • you rang the eskimo
  • here at your request

I couldn’t help laughing at Chet. He was a full-grown man wearing a cowboy costume, tiny clothes that actually fit his adolescent brother better than they did him. Chet drew a revolver from his belt (a toy, I hoped) and aimed it at me. “You rang the eskimo‘s private number, LuAnne. You’re the one who ordered up a gigolo. You’re the one who specifically requested chaps and a stetson. I’m here at your request, and I’ll thank you to stop laughing at me.”

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Hendrick Loved Indulging

  • smiling slightly as he spoke
    k-avatar
  • gloomily grand and savagely vexed
  • and then later, we swooned
  • shower of fragments and woodlice and decay
  • indulging in the luxury

Hendrick loved indulging in the luxury of genuine materials, smiling slightly as he spoke of how authenticity had often led him to unexpected stimulation, like the gloomily grand and savagely vexed old half-timber cottage he bought sight-unseen, only to have the roof fall in on him in a shower of fragments and woodlice and decay the first night he slept there, him without me, that part of the memory dimming his smile and prompting me to guide him to the divan where we spooned, and then later, we swooned.

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Chauncey Knew

  • by jena great deal of reviewing
  • He got down with raised eyebrows.
  • she did not respond to him in a favorable way
  • for no special reason
  • proximity to money and power

Chauncey knew the way to win Myrtle’s heart was by winning the dance-off at the senior prom. After a great deal of reviewing how-to videos on YouTube and practicing in front of the mirror, he was ready. Chauncey’s rental tuxedo was a stunning combination of white and gold that some people inexplicably saw as blue and black. At the country club he stood in line with all of the other hopefuls. The music started. He got down with raised eyebrows. Despite his sick dance moves and the soulful expressions he threw at Myrtle, she did not respond to him in a favorable way. Neither did the judges. They awarded the trophy to Mike Phillips for no special reason that Chauncey could see, except for the fact that Mike Phillips’s mother was a senator and the judges were all blinded by his proximity to money and power. But not Myrtle. She left the prom the way she arrived, surrounded by a group of indifferent girls dressed all in black.

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Our Ship Rocked and Pitched

  • k-avatarour mole-eyed contemporary
  • is best read in complete silence
  • pushed the throttles to full power
  • under the influence of the impending storm
  • we showed you how to be a gynecologist

Our ship rocked and pitched under the influence of the impending storm as our captain pushed the throttles to full power just to hold position and I handed the dinner menu to our mole-eyed contemporary who squinted and mumbled (although a list of entrees is best read in complete silence, as anyone with any manners should know) and you blushed and squirmed as we showed you how to be a gynecologist, if you know what we mean.

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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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The Sable Fringe

  • k-avatarfetlocks of many oxen
  • something murky and shocking
  • how to proceed with his seductions
  • an act of extreme blasphemy
  • Then he shut his cupboards

The sable fringe adorning the monsignor’s cassock, once the fetlocks of many oxen, swept dry leaves from the path as he hurried to the cloister. His premonition bespoke something murky and shocking, an act of extreme blasphemy. The monsignor moved as fast as he could with the tiny strides permitted by his attire’s slender silhouette. When at last he reached the colonnaded avenue outside the cloister, the monsignor paused. His premonition revolved languidly in his mind, showing him the face of the malefactor. His own face. That visage acquired a delighted grin when the monsignor recalled that Sarah lived in the cloister, and Sarah had a reputation. Better yet, her twin sister was visiting. Walking now, as much to catch his breath as preserve his dignity, the monsignor pondered how to proceed with his seductions.

Ten minutes later, ox-bristle fringe dragged dejectedly over the gravel as the monsignor slogged back to his rooms. His premonition had been wildly inaccurate, Sarah and her sister scandalized by his visit. The monsignor took out a mug to make some tea. Then he shut his cupboards and stood staring out the window, waiting for the kettle to boil.

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Minerva du Mauvais Stood Naked in the Forest

  • by jenwe who shared a womb
  • pointing at a couch
  • the oath of Hippocrates
  • despite the freezing night
  • sly apple-polishing
  • Moon maidens must be strong

Minerva du Mauvais stood naked in the forest despite the freezing night. Moon maidens must be strong, she admonished herself inwardly, and suppressed a shiver. Her brother Devlin paced the clearing, reciting the oath of Hippocrates in its original form — before it was co-opted by the do-gooding healers.

Once finished with the ceremony, Devlin led Minerva inside the black condo they shared. “Wait for me there, darling,” he growled, pointing at a couch. “And none of your sly ‘apple-polishing’ before I return. Save your energies for me.”

“Spoil sport,” Minerva pouted, but she laced her fingers together and twiddled her thumbs to occupy her time while Devlin made a few arcane phone calls.

We who shared a womb with the devil know all his secrets. Isn’t that right, Mirny?” Devlin said upon his return. Minerva knew that meant the ritual had succeeded and they were now free to celebrate in the most carnal of ways.

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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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