Tagged: parent

I’m Getting Overeducated

  • by jenby the time I reached my adolescence
  • this filthy little segmented thing
  • he could make us all suffer
  • recommended the Eggs Benedict
  • his ears are adorable
  • I’m getting overeducated
  • kissed Sharon lightly on the cheek

I’m getting overeducated in regards to sex. By the time I reached my adolescence I’d seen it all, thanks to my older sister Sharon.

Our mother split when we were little, and our father was always out drinking, so it fell to Sharon to raise me and teach me the ways of the world.

Her boyfriend’s name was Hans, and he could make us all suffer with his attempts to speak English. Sharon didn’t care. “His ears are adorable!” she would say.

One night Hans arrived at our apartment and kissed Sharon lightly on the cheek. Mere moments later she was on her knees before him and he was pulling this filthy little segmented thing out of his trousers. I didn’t want to see any more.

I cleared my throat to remind them I was there. Hans told me to go to the diner and get something to eat. He recommended the Eggs Benedict.

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I Dare Not Kiss You

  • by jen“She works so hard.”
  • corrupted by your father’s notions
  • To John’s dull perceptions
  • I dare not kiss you
  • but now the bitter aftertaste

“I dare not kiss you,” she said, meaning, “Our previous kisses were sweet while they lasted, but now the bitter aftertaste is all that remains, the joy corrupted by your father’s notions of class distinctions and I dare not risk raising his ire again.”

To John’s dull perceptions it merely sounded like rejection. He blamed her cooling ardor on the long days she spent toiling cleaning his family’s mansion. “She works so hard,” he reminded himself. “I really should learn to pick up my own dirty socks.”

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“Happy Birthday,” He Said

  • by jenshrinking like a balloon
  • 50 bucks worth of shit
  • picture of the burly child
  • “Happy birthday,” he said
  • passed a cohabitation law

“Happy birthday,” he said and handed Loretta 50 bucks worth of shit she didn’t need, as well as a picture of the burly child he had once been, back before the state passed a cohabitation law that compelled her to leave him behind with his father and take up residence with an old, half-senile party official whose phallus had the habit of shrinking like a balloon stuck by a pin whenever they were in bed together.

One sentence = Bonus Points!

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I Always Used To

  • great hammer blows
  • I always used to envy children
  • my father’s arrogant stride
  • with that horse face
  • this surely must be a sin
  • they glowed crimson

I always used to envy children whose parents seemed normal, whereas my mother’s sinister leer was overshadowed only by my father’s arrogant stride. Mother’s leer was really something, with that horse face sporting eyes like a denizen of the depths — they glowed crimson. So, that should help put father’s arrogance into perspective.

Even today I blame them for where I wound up, doing body make-up on second-tier professional wrestlers. Casting blame, this surely must be a sin.

Today’s client insists on eating while I bronze his quads. Great Hammer blows on his soup, and my belly growls. I can’t eat until he’s in the ring.

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When My Brother Arrived

  • nothing that would offend meby jen
  • My manservant read to him
  • decorated with red leather stitching
  • and another with lust
  • with a rueful chuckle
  • He abuses your trust
  • annoyed and proud at once

When my brother arrived for his visit he wore the boots decorated with red leather stitching that were his inheritance from our father. He was annoyed and proud at once, for those boots were Father’s most prized possessions, yet were worth very little monetarily when compared to the family estate which was left to me.

My manservant read to him two stories, as he requested, one with daring deeds and another with lust. “But,” my brother said with a rueful chuckle, “nothing that would offend me.”

Once my brother was asleep, my manservant came to me and said, “He abuses your trust. Those are not, in fact, the boots of your father.”

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from the comments, Jen has another take on the same prompt:

“I want to hear a story,” the old priest demanded. “But nothing that would offend me, if you please.”

His request made me feel both annoyed and proud at once, so I had my manservant read to him from the big black book decorated with red leather stitching that has been in my family for countless generations.

Afterwards the priest took me aside to gossip about my manservant. “He abuses your trust,” he said with a rueful chuckle. “I smelled alcohol on his breath. He read one story with vice in it, and another with lust.”

I nodded, secretly pleased that my manservant had done just as I told him.

The Adult Conspiracy

  • a ninety percent chance of success!by jen
  • a large raindrop, then another
  • to cook in spite of her protests
  • when I emerged from customs
  • adult conspiracy to spoil Beatrice
  • drawing back from his kisses
  • with its own gin palace

The adult conspiracy to spoil Beatrice‘s appetite stood a ninety percent chance of success! They continued to cook in spite of her protests that she wanted to save room for dinner, like her momma said she should, and soon tears fell from her eyes like a large raindrop, then another.

I knew when I emerged from customs that this was an unusual country – with its own gin palace at the airport and everything. Beatrice’s mother could be seen there, through the window, flirting shamelessly with a man who was not her husband, but drawing back from his kisses just in time. Did she know what the customs officials were trying to do, right then, to her darling daughter’s diet?

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