She struggles constantly to stay on track, to be a good girl even in lace, even without panties. But even she is at times pushed off kilter.
Like when she met him, that scalawag with charisma the magnetism of iron and breath the cold deadness of steel. On that first night, when he approached, she heard the clangor and whistle of a steam engine. He knocked her off her course. On the second night, she invited him home without inhibition.
She wore her lace for him, without panties. She reclined on the bed and opened her long, smooth legs, casting her scent. And he did feed. As he bared himself, she widened her legs fully, her gaping, dripping sex screaming for him. And he breached with the force of a locomotive. In and out he cycled, stoking the fire in her belly all night long.
But it was a coal fire, the kind that once spent leaves only coldness and soot. He's beyond the horizon; yet she stands. Weakness for her is fleeting. Now, in a golden haze of a new morning, she again treads carefully. Still in lace, still without panties, but again in balance as she advances.
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Your challenge for this Friday, 10-1-10, is to use the photo above toImage courtesy of Igor Shitikov, via Erotic Flash Fiction.
write a flash fiction of 150-200 words. Here, also, is a phrase for
you to use in your submission: "...in a golden haze..."