Sinful Sunday Flash Fiction: Abandon

Welcome back to Sinful Sunday Flash Fiction! After a verrrrry long hiatus, I’ve been encouraged to pick it up again. I’m hoping to do it on a monthly basis–probably the last Sunday of every month. There will be no winners. It will be just for creative exercise and fun. 🙂

Word prompt:

Abandon:
1) A complete lack of inhibition or restraint. Synonyms: uninhibitedness, recklessness, lack of restraint, lack of inhibition, wildness, impulsiveness, impetuosity, immoderation, wantonness.

2) To give up completely (a course of action, a practice, or a way of thinking). Synonyms: renounce, relinquish, dispense with, disclaim, forgo, disown, disavow, discard.

3) To allow oneself to indulge in (a desire or impulse). Synonyms: indulge in, give way to, give oneself up to, yield to, lose oneself to/in.

Photo prompts:

I’ve been working on a heroine who is very focused on the hero’s hands, hence today’s picspiration.

tumblr_nchui7Sz5L1qjuse9o1_500 tumblr_nbr3fwqVHK1thpqhoo1_500 tumblr_nc8a1fx2Ov1qjuse9o1_500 tumblr_lhfh8b01oA1qg7xwvo1_500

The photo prompts are meant for inspiration, but you must use both prompts in some way. Have fun with it, and synonyms are accepted! (If you use a word other than the synonyms listed, please include that information after your entry.) The word minimum is 100, maximum 200. Post your story in the comments section of the post. Include your word count, your Twitter handle, blog link or email.

Get those steamy thoughts going! You have until midnight EST to get your flash in. (If you’d like more info before the prompts, please check out the new rules.)

Disclaimer: The author does not claim to have taken any of the photographs used as prompts. All imagery was found in the public domain via Tumblr.

 

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Comments

  1. Day after day, week after week, my voluptuous “partner” drove me to the brink. Her sexy dresses, her “fuck me” heels that she antagonized me with…every time I saw her was blissful torture.

    We barely spoke outside of the topic at hand, and after two months of working with this beautiful stranger, my desire to know more about her rivaled my desire for her.

    At the weekly partner meeting, we were assigned a new case. She sat beside me, affording me the opportunity to glance at her cleavage and brush my leg against hers. Never had I felt like I did just then. There was a sudden electric charge in the air. I heard her gasp; then watched her tremble. Time stood still as heat consumed me – as she consumed me.

    Not knowing how long we were left alone in the conference room, she was the first to stand. Desperate to finally claim her, I gripped her hips and turned her to face me, which inadvertently made her sit on the coffee table beside the door.

    Panting as I explored her flesh, I watched her until our eyes met.

    “Let’s abandon all professional pretenses, shall we?”

  2. Your hands are dangerous.

    Haven’t you caught me by now, staring at them?

    I’ve imagined all the ways you could you touch me. An unapologetic grasp to my wrist, fast. Harsh. Dragging me close, chafing my sides. Fingertips rough and calloused as they ease up my thighs.

    I’ve lain up nights thinking about how warm your skin would be. What I could do to make your breathing hitch. If you’d bite your lip when I took you into my mouth. What sounds you make when you come.

    I know I shouldn’t want this, but your hands could find the cracks in my armor.

    It wouldn’t take much, if you shoved me up against the wall and showed me who’s really in charge. Your fist in my hair, pulling tight. Your palm coming down, hard and stinging on my ass. Your lips by my ear, whispering the filthiest thing you can think of, driving me to the point of complete abandon.

    We tease, we taunt, upping the ante every time.

    It’s a staring contest we’ve got going on here.

    Let’s see who blinks first.

    183 words
    @RGraceAllen

  3. My hands feel everything. Hell, they even feel the air moving in the room. She knew that. I’d told her that countless times. “I keep them closed. Or in my pockets, or pressed flat against something.”

    She sat next to me on the sofa, holding two blindfolds. “We each get one. Then, we use our hands. We throw the rules out the window.” She’d kissed me, hard. “Let your hands feel everything. Your fingers touch everything.” She put a blindfold on me. “Let them move with total abandon. Set them free.”

    She put her blindfold on, then found my hands, and placed them on her lap. “No rules.”

    My hands found her thighs, my fingertips traced from her knees, to the edge of her skirt. I remember every texture, every curve. I set my hands free, Let them remove her clothing, piece by piece, relishing the feel of each material. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t talk.

    I could only, slowly drown in the feel of her. Her back, shoulders, neck, and breasts. The world ceased to exist as my fingers found their way between her legs, then inside her.

    “No rules,” she whispered, “No rules at all.”

    197 words
    @LurchMunster

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