Sinful Sunday Flash Fiction Week # 48

Welcome back! Today’s judge is Missy!

Sinful Sunday #flashfiction week 48 judge

As a teenager, Missy had dreams of someday being a writer. As an adult, she is slowly making those dreams come true. These days, when Missy isn’t busy working or taking care if her family, she  likes to spend her spare time with her eyes on her Kindle while reading or her fingers on her keyboard while writing.

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

Bits and pieces: The obvious sexual attributes of a woman visible to the naked and untrained eye.

Photo Prompt:

 Sinful Sunday #flashfiction week 48 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. Lory (Lolo84) says:

    I slid my fingers down my chest, past my stomach, and slowly pulled at the string of my shorts. I couldn’t stop thinking about her—what her bits and pieces looked like underneath the dress she wore tonight.

    Black and sleek, it hugged her like a second skin. And all night, I searched for reason after reason to accidentally brush my fingers against the silk.

    I tugged my shorts over my hips, fisting myself while I fantasized about her mouth, her lips, what they would feel like wrapped around me. Licking me. Sucking me.

    I ignored the flash of light bouncing off the dresser and screwed my eyes shut. Visions of what she’d be like in bed—in this bed, with me—danced behind my eyes.

    Up and down, up and down, my hands continued moving to images of her over me, riding me, hips grinding, tits bouncing. She’d moan. Whimper out my name. Squirm.

    Groans and grunts fell from my lips. My hips bucked against my fist. I was fighting my release. Struggling to catch my breath. And praying beyond reason that one day, someday, she’ll be next to me.

    Not watching me from afar.

    Word Count:196

  2. AnnaLund2011 says:

    He’s there. As I watch his nude torso, hand in shorts, I realize I’ve set the webcam at a perfect angle for his bits and pieces, but I’ll miss his face if he doesn’t move down the bed a bit.

    I never though he’d be going home alone tonight. I was sure I was going to see some action; that redhead had looked very interested.

    But he had turned him down—and when he left the club, I followed, from afar.

    I watch. It’s what I do.

    It’s all I can do.

    Now, give it your best shot.

    Show me.

    Word count: 100, on the nose
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011

  3. She’s at the foot of the bed, ready and willing, offering herself up to me as if she is some sacrifice being made to a religious idol. She may find me to be like a God, but in truth, she is the Goddess and it would be I that would be worshipping her tonight.

    The anticipation of what was to come between us already had my cock soaked with pre-cum. I slipped a hand down my pants to gently stroke my ever-hardening erection. She licked her lips at the sight and her eyes expressed her desirous intentions. I’m sure the lust I’d felt was evident, pouring out of every pore of my body.

    I couldn’t wait to bury my cock deep within her warmth. I couldn’t wait to pound into her bits and pieces until she screamed in pleasure.

    She began to crawl towards me as I began to slip my boxers and sweats down my legs, freeing my erection. It wouldn’t be much longer now. I was gonna fuck her like she’d never been fucked before, and then she’d forever be mine.

    Word count: 183
    Twitter: @randommama

  4. @MadiMerek aka QuinnLark
    words: 198
    For all of us.

    Not every guy can handle a girl who writes the things mine does. When she first told me that she wanted to pursue this as a career, I flipped the fuck out. Her dad was going to shoot me in the nuts for putting these ideas into his little girl’s head.

    Now, though, I don’t feel trepidation of any sort. No fucking way. I see the bits and pieces of my love pristinely typed upon the pages of the paperback, and I crave her. My dick swells and I ache for the smutty, wonderful woman I call my wife.

    When she takes a few minutes too long to come to bed, I know where to find her. She’s there in the study, with the baby monitor beside her, wearing those sexy purple glasses and typing furiously at her keyboard.

    “What’s this one about?” I ask.

    Startled, she looks up from the glowing computer screen. “Um… A rockstar who fucks hard and falls in love even harder,” she says, and nibbles her lip.

    “Do you need any ‘lemon’ inspiration?” I wonder. Hope.

    A slow grin lights her face as she closes the laptop, and her finger beckons me forward.

  5. They kissed goodbye all summer. Salty and frantic, wet with tears.
    He wouldn’t go home the first weekend or the second. Not for a month, at least. They talked about it. Planned.

    Her, perched on the edge of his bed, hands folded. Him standing next to his closet, two boxes at his feet. Take and Trash.

    “I could stay. Go to State.”

    “Give yourself a month to acclimate. We can survive a month. Can’t we?”

    By the third weekend he knew the answer to her question. She’d been his only before he left. Now she was just his first.

    When he told her about the party, the drunken fumble, the girl who had looked so much like her it hurt, she didn’t cry. She just said, “I know.” It sounded exactly like goodbye.


    He tapped out and deleted the same messages three times.

    i’m sorry
    i miss u

    Never sent, not after weeks of silence, but the litany soothed him as he flipped through pictures. Her smile. The curve of her breast. All the bits and pieces he knew as well as his own. His cock throbbed, but he ignored it for as long as he could. Penance.

    198 words

  6. @twiddler83
    196 words

    Morning wood.

    I reach my hand down to stroke my cock, moaning at the feeling.

    I go to pull myself out and I notice something.

    It’s lipstick.

    Smeared from the base of my cock to the tip.

    Oh shit!

    I look around the room and you’re not here.

    My heart is beating a mile minute trying to remember.

    How the hell did I get home?

    Bits and pieces come flooding back.

    My bachelor party.

    The first bar.

    The second.

    Oh hell! The strip club!

    We promised each other – no strippers or clubs.

    I roll over and scream in the pillow, even though my hangover is in full effect.

    A knock in the door makes me stop.

    You ask me if I’m okay as you open the door.

    I nod, my gaze not meeting yours.

    You’re gonna fucking kill me.

    I tell you I’m gonna shower and you start laughing.

    I see a tube of lipstick in your hand.

    You twist the tube and apply some to your lips.

    Putting your finger in your mouth, you pull it out.

    My mouth drops open and you smile wink.

    “That will teach you.” You say and walk away.

  7. He hears her coming down the hall. His peek-a-boo girl, creeping close on silent, bare feet. Turning his head, he stares at the mirror angled to reflect the door she tries to hide behind. He left it cracked wider tonight.

    He waits until she’s bold enough to peer through, then slides his hand down to fist his throbbing dick. Pre-cum pearls on the tip, proof of how excited his beautiful voyeur gets him.

    He wishes she was brave enough to come in. He wants to caress her, strip her bare and kiss all her bits and pieces, especially her sweetest, slickest piece. He knows he could make her feel so good. All he has to do is turn his head, hold out his hand…

    But he won’t. Not yet. His girl is fragile. Rage prickles and his erection nearly wilts. He wants to kill the fucker that hurt her, made her fearful of touch.

    He exhales, pushing those thoughts away. Day by day he works to earn her trust, ease her fears.

    This is just one way.

    He strokes, and she watches. Tonight, when he comes, he’ll moan her name so she’ll know he’s thinking of her.

    . . . . . .

    197 words (200 if the hyphenated words count separately – which I’m never sure if they do or not…) 😛

  8. Holy fuck, she drove me wild! What began as just a random online chat months ago has evolved into something more. So much more.

    “Paul? Are you there?” Rosalie asked timidly. She was adorable.

    “Yeah, baby, I’m here,” I answered gruffly. I lifted my pants to show her my leaking hard-on.

    “Mmm, so you are, baby.”

    God, she had the sexiest voice when she was turned on. Our flirtatious online chats had evolved into the absolute best Facetime fun time. We were set to meet in two weeks and I couldn’t wait.

    “Fuck, I can’t wait to touch you, baby. To lick you. To kiss you. To taste you. I’ve seen your beautiful bits and pieces, and I can’t wait to claim them as mine.” I couldn’t help but hiss as I began stroking myself.

    “Oh, Paul,” she moaned. I opened my eyes to see her fingers glistening with her cum circle her clit before dipping them into herself.

    “I bet you taste like the sweetest peaches, baby. Cum for me, Rosalie. I want to see you cum.”

    She writhed and moaned until she climaxed, and it was the most beautiful thing I’d seen.

    194 words

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