Sinful Sunday Flash Fiction Week # 47

Welcome back! Today’s judge is Chocaholic123!

Sinful Sunday #flashfiction week 47 judge

Chocaholic is an aspiring writer and mother of two, who lives just outside of London. When she’s not at work, she can usually be found with her fingers glued to a keyboard or her head stuck in a book.

If you’re unfamiliar with the usual Sinful Sunday Flash Fiction contest rules, please check them out.

The photo prompt is 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, and don’t forget to include your word count and twitter handle!


Word Prompt


Lust: A strong sexual urge, desire, or appetite, especially a self-indulgent desire to possess or enjoy; to crave. Synonyms: aphrodisia, appetence, appetite, appetition, ardor-veneris, carnal-desire, carnality, coitolimia, concupiscence, craving; eroticism, estrus, heat, horniness, hunger, lechery, lewdness, libidinal craving, libido, licentiousness, lickerishness, longing, lustfulness, passion, prurience, pruriency, restlessness, rut, salaciousness, salacity, sensualism, sensuality, sensuous desire, wantonness, zazzle .


Photo Prompt:

 Sinful Sunday #flashfiction week 47 prompt

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.

Get those steamy thoughts going! You have until midnight EST to get your flash fiction in!


  1. Missy Melissa Gardener says:

    200 words

    I watch her through my lens.

    Naked. Wet. Glistening.

    Does she know?

    The lust intensifies every time.

    I want her.

    Need her.

    Covet her.

    She swims in the nude and leaves her body in the sun to dry.

    My neighbor.

    My sin.

    My fantasy.

    Zooming in, I snap a picture. I can’t help it this time.

    Her chest goes up and down with every breath, making her tits look full and luscious.

    I’m dying to have my mouth wrapped around them; to hear her moans from the pleasure I give her.

    Her face moves to the side; to where I’m standing.

    Her eyes open to slits, her mouth curving to a smirk.

    She knows.

    She has to.

    The hedge isn’t as full as it should be between our yards.

    Looking through the lens, I zoom in to where her hand is going.

    This is new.

    She spreads her thighs wide and I wish my yard was bordering that end of her property.

    Her face is still tilted toward me as her fingers skim the skin on her belly, making its way down over her navel.

    I swallow hard and lick my lips.

    My dream girl is giving me a show.

  2. @QuinnSkylark
    words: 197

    Her pictures line my wall – years of carnal desire and adoration for my beautiful girl. She’s my favorite piece of art.

    She owns me.

    I watch – harden – as her pink vibratory disappears between her legs, her back arching off the bed. Her morning orgasmic performances are my absolute joy. The way she moves and slides and touches her wet cunt leaves me aching.

    I snap my pictures, zooming precisely until I can easily see where her skin is raised with the shiver of her arousal. The way her mouth falls open and the moan pours from her throat is enough to set me off. I unzip my fly, quickly pulling out my dick and pumping in time with her hand’s movements. Thank fuck for tripods.

    When she comes, flushed and pink, so do I – sticky and messy all over my black shirt. I know what’s coming. His name is a whimper on her breath; it always is.

    I tuck my flaccid cock away and stand from the bed, switching off the mic feed from her apartment. Her photos cover one wall and his another – each with a red bullseye. She’s mine and soon he’s going to know.

  3. @simone millien 200 words


    It’s new this feeling of open vulnerability.

    They said nude photo-shoot but it’s not at all what she’d thought. Which was what? Dangerous, perhaps, sexy and vibrant and enthrallingly bare. Look at me, look at my body, look how desire is cut into every line, every curve, you want me but can only have me as far as an eye can caress.

    Instead she feels caught. Seen and known by these two strangers and their photo lens in ways only her handful of late-night lovers would.

    The air is on, cold and crisp against hot flushed skin.

    Her nipples pebble tight nubs.

    ‘Relax,’ they said, ‘pretend we’re not here.’

    She does. Still there’s a hint of shy as she tucks her chin in close to her chest and her legs press closed as she brings her knees up. They’re professional and that’s better than crassly sexual or openly wanton but it leaves her to center down and find her own lust.

    She imagines a lover’s admiring want, a heavy gaze tracing her body, hoarse groans bitten off as clenched fists tremble to touch. Her breath catches in her throat.

    It’s her first time; she likes it. She’s doing it again.

  4. He snaps picture after picture of the writhing woman on the bed.

    I watch.

    She flirts with the lenses with a smirk on her lips. She’s in control.

    Her hands touch where he wants to touch and I can almost feel the lust in the room.

    I watch.

    He whispers some orders and she complies with a giggle that sounds as young as she looks.

    The pleasure is clear on her face when he shoots again. I can hear his pained groan.

    He’s playing with fire and he knows it. She’s going to destroy him.

    I chuckle.

    Lowering the camera from his face, his guilty eyes meet mine. We stare at each other while the other woman goes around the room, picking up her clothes. She closes the door behind her and the walls shake.

    We’re left alone with the scent of their time together hanging in the air. It’s like a cloud threatening to suffocate us.

    Looking away, I play with my ring.

    “How many times?” I ask, hating the way my voice sounds. He looks at me and I know he’ll lie.

    “Just once,” he says.

    Just once.

    190 words.

  5. @everydaybella89
    Words. 197

    She’s all smooth skin and long curves while spread out for me on top of the quilt. Her perfect breasts are capped with small rosy nipples. There’s a devilish grin on her face and her limbs are stretched so that neither I nor my camera miss a thing.

    I had dreamed of this forever. Lust wasn’t a strong enough word for what I felt for her. I wanted to own her, claim her, consume her. My dreams were etched with her until I woke up hard and aching.

    She had never given me a second thought. I hated that she didn’t want me.

    It all changed when I mentioned that I had to find a model for a nude study. She’d winked and said, “I’ll do it.”

    Staring at her now I’m glad I didn’t turn her down. She’s a vision. I know I’m standing too close, but I can’t help myself.

    She looks so damn sexy.

    Without even realizing it my fingers trail up the inside of her thigh. Her eyes darken and the smirk turns into a challenge as my fingertips tease her wet folds.

    My camera is forgotten as her mouth issues a moan.

  6. Tinsley Warren says:

    My palms were sweaty as I pulled back the curtain. I was praying to everything holy that her light was on and that her drapes were open.

    I was greeted with the warm glow of her bedroom lamp. It seemed to heat up the room with it’s yellow tint.

    It didn’t take me long to zero in on the most important thing, her body.

    She was laying on her bed, her legs spread and her breasts exposed. Her nipples were so hard, as if demanding to be pulled.

    Her eyes were shut tight and her hand was exploring her center. From the moans escaping her mouth I knew I was right on time.

    I fumbled with my camera, trying to grab it but refusing to allow myself to look away from the divine creature next door.

    My dick hardened as I saw the way her skin seemed to flush darker.

    She was about to come.

    I held up my camera, waiting for her to fall over the edge. When I heard her scream I frantically captured image after image.

    She finished and never knew I captured it.

    She never knew a lot of things, like how I lusted after her.

    Words: 200

  7. I follow directions – mouth closed, eyes demure, so fucking obedient. I want him to think I’m someone worthy and special, but I just blend in.

    I’m faded like the old black and whites hanging on his wall. So far out of his focus, I’m a forgotten strip of negatives cluttering his sacred darkroom.

    I slip out of my dress and lie on the bed. Cool sheets and his presence stir unrequited lust in the red rivers of my blood, deep under my skin.

    It hurts I’m not enough for him.

    I’ve seen the women he dates. Never models like me. Curvy women, untainted and clean. Laugh-lined beauties with soft bellies that aren’t pinched in from starving themselves for a trashy magazine cover-shot.

    I skim an icy finger over a sharp nipple, wishing he cared enough about me to turn on the heat. I shiver, waiting for the flash; his professional approval in a wash of burnt sienna behind my tightly closed eyelids. My fingers slip lower, touching my clit, circling slow. His fake praise is bittersweet agony, taking me high, crashing me low.

    How I wish he could love me the way his camera does.

    . . . . . .

    198 words

  8. The poet Rumi said, “Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They’re in each other all along.”

    I recite this line over and over in my head as you writhe and wait for me to finish these photos before we join our flesh.

    You are in my lens as I aim the camera upon your form.

    You are in my eye as you return my hungry gaze.

    You are in my heart as I focus upon the tear forming at the corner of your eye.

    You were in me long before we met, and I in you.

    You perfect me now in our joining, soft meeting firm, sweet melting sharp.

    Your image reveals what I am inside, the part of me that has always been you and yours.

    Though I cannot fully satisfy my lust for you while I’m away, I capture your lusciousness here in my lens before embedding the taste of you on my tongue, the perfume of you in my nose, and feel of you on my skin.

    I’ll be reminded by these photos of the man I can be, made better by you.

    I’ll recall the better man I have become, the one in love with you.
    Words: 199

Speak Your Mind