One-Night-Stand – Friday Flash Fic., March 2nd

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He stood looking out the glass walls at the small backyard. Concrete walls surrounded the tiny space but for a large cutout at the side that let in the bright morning sunshine and gave a soft blue tint to the stone. Lionel could see greenery and remembered the lush surroundings of the place that he’d seen the previous evening when he’d stumbled onto the dark grounds with their owner.

The owner of this beautiful home was still asleep in the large master bedroom, and Lionel wondered whether he should stay or call an Uber. He wanted to stay but he wasn’t sure if that was a good idea.

They’d had fun at the bar, he and the slightly older man whose name was Marcello and whose green eyes had pierced through Lionel’s defences and shattered his resolve. His resolve to never engage in one-night-stands for the very reason he was now standing in this glorious space wondering what to do.

But he wouldn’t regret it. Wouldn’t regret taking Marcello’s hand and following him to the alleyway, wouldn’t regret letting Marcello kiss him, wouldn’t regret nodding and sighing yes when Marcello asked permission to reach into his jeans.

Definitely wouldn’t regret spending the night making out and then fucking in Marcello’s four poster bed.

The problem, and this was always the problem with Lionel’s one-night-stands, was he wanted more. It took alot for him to fall hard enough for a guy that he was comfortable becoming physically intimate. Usually it took more than one evening of flirting and penetrating looks, but sometimes it did not. And once he’d stripped himself of everything and opened up to another man, Lionel couldn’t help feeling bereft.

A sound behind him and a soft reflection of movement in the glass caused Lionel to startle and turn.

“Good morning,” Marcello said, blinking in the bright sunlight and giving Lionel the wide smile that had seduced him so easily. He was wearing only boxer briefs and Lionel couldn’t help that his gaze swept over the attractive man as if it might be the last time he could do so.

“Morning,” Lionel mumbled. “I, uh, I’ll make some coffee and then I guess, well, I guess I’ll go.”

Marcello yawned and shook his head. “I’ll make coffee, Lionel. You’re my guest.”

Lionel nodded, still not sure what the expectations were this morning. He hated not knowing what to do.

“Sit down. Relax,” Marcello said with a grin. “You must be tired.” he waggled his eyebrows, referencing how late they’d stayed awake, exploring each other and enjoying each other until the small morning hours.

Lionel felt the tightness in his chest loosen and he smiled in response to Marcello’s good humor. He sat in one of the soft chairs at the round breakfast table.

Marcello went about getting the coffee ready.

“Are you hungry, Lionel?” he asked.

Lionel cleared his throat. “I, uh, well, yeah.”

“Would you like to stay for breakfast?”

Lionel nodded, relieved. “Yes. Yes, I’d love to.”

Marcello batted his eyes and smiled again. “You know, I don’t do this very often,” he said softly.

Lionel felt a glimmer of hope in his chest. “Um, eat breakfast?”

Marcello laughed and shook his head. “No, I mean, I don’t drag home gorgeous men from bars.”

Lionel blushed. Gorgeous? Him? He let himself smile. “Really?”

Marcello nodded. “Really. I don’t usually go this far with someone I’ve just met.” He laughed then, shaking his head. “God, I sound like a high school girl. But it’s true.”

Lionel felt the tension drain from him and said, almost too quickly, “Me neither. Really, I don’t. I don’t know what came over me.” He realized what he’d said as soon as it had exited his mouth.

Marcello met his gaze and they both burst out laughing.

“Oh my God,” Lionel said, blushing furiously. “I’m such an idiot.”

Marcello shook his head again, placing the carafe on the burner and pressing the start button. “You’re not an idiot,” he said softly, eyes shyly glancing at Lionel’s and darting away as if he were nervous. But how could he be? Lionel was the nervous one.

“Stay for breakfast,” Marcello said quickly. He bravely met Lionel’s surprised gaze head on and held it. “Stay for lunch…”

Lionel felt the smile spread across his face this time, and he nodded. “Okay.”

The relieved and happy smile that spread over Marcello’s face then washed away all the doubt from Lionel’s mind. This was more than a one-night-stand. It had to be.

Craving – Friday Flash Fic., Feb. 15th

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I was on the treadmill at the gym when I got an idea for this flash fiction prompt.

I realized that these guys could easily be two characters from my Vampire erotica WIP, Diamond Dogs.

Theo Matowski is a devoted lover to my protagonist, Gemini (a bisexual, androgynous female vampire who keeps Theo and his male lover, Justice, as human pets/companions). However, when an older male vampire, Kristofer Vallespi, comes to Ottawa seeking excitement, Theo finds his loyalties tested.

Craving

Theo waited restlessly on the park bench, eyes glancing furtively about and hands in his jeans pockets.

Kristofer Vallespi had texted him the night before, requesting that Theo meet him here at noon because he needed to ask him something.

Theo knew he shouldn’t have replied. Shouldn’t have texted Kristofer that he’d come. Shouldn’t have thought about Kristofer all evening and all morning.

Gemma had told him that Kristofer was dangerous. She’d said Kristofer was not like she was. He’d want to take advantage of Theo – use him for sex or food and then toss him away like spoiled fruit.

But Theo didn’t believe her. He didn’t think she was lying. He believed Gemma supposed Kristofer to be like that. But from the moments Theo had spent in Kristofer’s commanding presence, he couldn’t believe it.

And now, as he glimpsed Kristofer approaching along the gravel path in his pea coat and jeans, looking so very human and yet not-at-all human, he wondered if perhaps Gemini was right. Theo knew vampires had powers he didn’t yet understand even though he’d been sharing Gemma’s home for seven years. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come.

But it was too late now.

Theo straightened as Kristofer approached. Even though he knew very well that most vampires could walk about during daylight hours, it still made him uneasy. These creatures were supposed to be night dwellers. But maybe that was what people believed in order to feel some kind of partial security.

Theo knew better.

Kristofer stopped in front of the bench. He looked Theo over with a frank and obvious hunger.

“Theo,” he said in greeting, offering a small smile and a glint of fang. So he was hungry. Hungry for either sex or blood, or his fangs wouldn’t have descended.

Theo shuddered in the face of such desire. “K-Kristofer. I wanted to see you.” This was the truth.

Kristofer nodded, sitting down beside Theo on the bench. “I know. I wanted to see you too. Needed to.” His vibrant blue eyes drifted over Theo, consuming him on the spot.

They locked eyes and Theo felt that connection, the same one he experienced with Gemma but even stronger here, now, with Kristofer. Was it because Kristofer was male, or because he was an older vampire?

It didn’t matter.

“Theo, I need to taste you. Now.” Kristofer’s voice felt like smooth amber covering him as if Theo were a tiny insect who would soon be trapped and paralyzed.

Theo nodded, his desire ramping up in Kristofer’s intoxicating presence. “I know.”

No sooner had Theo said those words than Kristofer’s cold hands slid along his neck and the handsome vampire pressed his lips to the younger man’s mouth.

A bomb could have gone off nearby and Theo wouldn’t have cared. Kristofer’s cool lips on his, the vampire’s soft tongue pressing inside Theo’s mouth, the fingers pressing against his pounding jugular – this was everything.

Theo opened his mouth and let Kristoffer have his way, loving how the vampire savoured his taste. He hadn’t taken blood yet, only kissed Theo like any man or woman would. But Theo knew it was coming. He moaned into Kristofer’s mouth and gripped his coat.

But Kristofer didn’t bite. Instead he pulled away and swore softly. “You do this to me, Theo,” he murmured, licking his red lips and gripping Theo’s neck tightly enough to alarm him. But just as Theo noticed, Kristofer’s fingers loosened and he let go. “You make me want you.”

Theo just sat there, trembling, cock hard and full of blood from that kiss and from Kristofer’s nearness.

“I want to really taste you,” Kristofer breathed, eyes drilling into Theo’s.

“Yes,” Theo replied without question. It was too late for any other answer.

“Do you know what I’m asking?” Kristofer said carefully.

Theo nodded. “Yes.”

Kristofer smiled, slowly, with genuine pleasure and relief. “Then come with me.”

Theo nodded again and stood, taking Kristofer’s offered hand.

He would go. He had to. He needed to experience everything that Kristofer was, everything that Kristofer had to offer him, if he was ever to sleep again.

Personality – Monday Flash Fics, Jan. 22

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The most interesting person in the square was someone wearing a white cashmere coat over a dark red blouse with a floppy red bow at the neck. Perched on their head was a matching red fedora-like hat. I thought the outfit showed a lot of personality and a certain unwillingness to dress to convention.

The person had a closely trimmed beard and clutched a large brown handbag.

“Excuse me,” I said to them, after tapping them on the shoulder. “I’m a photographer from Ottawa. I love your outfit. Would I be able to take your picture?”

The person looked at me, surprised. But they nodded and gave me a guarded smile. “Sure.”

I thanked them and asked their name.

“Martha.”

I nodded, giving them a genuine smile. “Nice to meet you, Martha. I’m Carson.”

Martha nodded, still seeming wary.

“You’re fine right where you are, Martha. Just be yourself.”

At that, Martha laughed, seeming to let down their guard finally. “Oh, that is who I always am, I’m afraid. I can’t seem to help it!”

I took some shots of them, and smiled. “It shows. I really like your outfit.”

The wariness came back. “You’re not making fun of me, are you? Setting me up for some kind of joke?”

I lowered my camera and shook my head. “No, I’m not. I think you have more personality in your little finger than most of the people here. I wanted to capture it.”

They stared at me, and a small smile finally broke on their friendly face. “Thank you. It’s been a long time since someone gave me a compliment.”

“I’m sorry.”

They shrugged. “I guess my expectations of people have been lowered since I started dressing the way I want. Living the way I want.”

I looked at them with sympathy. “That’s a real shame.”

“Yes, it is. But thank you for renewing my hope in people.”

“Would you like me to send you a copy of the photos, Martha?”

“Yes, I’d love that!”

We exchanged contact info and parted with a warm handshake. I left the encounter with a lighter heart and some fantastic photos on my camera.

Monday Flash Fiction, Sept. 18

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Where the fuck did all these birds come from?

Here I am, trying to have a meditative sulk by the goddamn pond and I can’t even hear myself think.

See, things just aren’t going very well right now. This t-shirt I just bought is way too fucking big, this stupid sweater’s still itchy, and my love life’s in the toilet. At least, I think it is. Actually, I don’t know what it is.

I met this guy the other day. Well, met isn’t the right word. I fucked this guy the other day. This amazing, sexy guy, that I almost fell in love with right then and there while we were doing the dirty, and it was all good, fun and happening.

But he hasn’t replied to my text. Okay, texts. I may have sent him too many texts and now I am freaking the fuck out.

I’m standing at the edge of this goddamn peaceful pond trying to calm myself the fuck down, and this huge flock of crows comes out of nowhere, and I can feel my stress levels going into high gear.

It’s a good thing I have my phone on vibrate because I probably wouldn’t have heard the text notification that just buzzed my ass.

A little flame of hope rises within me as I pull the phone from my pocket and check.

It’s him. He replied. I’m smiling and my heart is joining the cacophony of caws and screeches as I read:

You sent me like a gazillion texts you moron. Next time just call. 

Flash Fiction Monday (on Wednesday)

 

I just joined Helena Stone’s flash fiction Facebook Group because I desperately needed to write a short piece for this photo:

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SCRUB

“Jason, you need to scrub it in.”

I thought I was scrubbing it in.

“I am scrubbing it. You want harder?”

“Always.”

I huffed fake annoyance and dug my fingers deep into his scalp, eliciting a deep groan. Okay then.

“That’s better.”

“Thank you, Sir,” I said, with only a bit of sarcasm.

“Watch it. Getting you to wash my hair is a pretty mild consequence for what you did earlier.”

My ears perked up, as did my cock. I mean, I’d thought it a little too mild actually. And kind of boring. Plus my fingers were getting tired.

“Too mild?” I asked, hinting.

He groaned under the flex of my fingers. “What do you think?”

“Yeah, maybe. I’m not a fan of mild. As you know.” I was a fan of intense. Maybe even painful. Definitely not mild.

“Well, then. Why don’t we finish up here. Rinse me.”

The smile spread over my face before I had grabbed the hand held shower, washing the suds from his black hair and wondering what he would choose; a spanking, maybe. I could definitely go for a spanking. I’d been a very naughty boy.

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