Monica came into work late this evening, hair hanging down over her left eye. “A new look?” I asked. “No,” she said. “Just allergies.” I left it alone. The bar was busy. Usual Monday Night Football crowd. Monica got right to it. Pouring beers. Mixing drinks. Fielding unwanted advances. Franklin,
Category: 100 word fiction
Rafael watched as she raised hand to mouth, lips spread, teeth slowly sinking into soft flesh. Juice dripped down her chin onto her chest. She giggled. Wiped the sweet, delicious nectar from her supple skin. Licked her fingers. Rafael averted his gaze, ashamed of his desire. Oh, what he wouldn’t
She buckled Robby into the back seat of her old, beaten-up Honda. A wayward child, he was not to be trusted riding shotgun. The two drove for some time, highway markers rushing by. Robby rolled down the window and tossed one of his shoes. Clapped his hands, mad with glee.