Sinful Sunday Week # 15

Welcome back, all! I’m particularly excited about this week’s entries, because the judge has chosen some really awesome prompts!

This week’s judge is last week’s winner, Lovelybrutal!

LovelyBrutal is trapped on an island, trying to get off. El-Ahrairah has her back, and Manic Panic has her hair. She’s finding her way back to writing and art after a long hiatus. Poetry, painting, photography and fiction are her media, and she believes that Love is the lodestar.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Sinful Sunday Flash Fiction contest rules, please check them out! You must use both the photo prompt and word prompt in some way. The  minimum is 100, maximum 200, and don’t forget to include your word count and twitter handle!

Word prompt:

Edging: Coming nearly close to climax, then purposefully stopping sexual stimulation in order to delay the same, so that the ultimate climax will be more intense. It is not a practice necessary inclusive of masturbation, but is also practiced amongst partners/couples. (Synonyms: orgasm control, “peaking, surfing.)

Photo prompt:

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


  1. antonioangelo21 says:

    He would say it this time, she knew he would he would look her in the eye and say it without apology he would say he loved her. He had been close, so very close, she knew he loved her. She thought of the way he smiled, the way his hands felt on her shoulders she thought of the way his breath had mint on it. He had been that close and her back arched her finger slid up her belly she had opened her shirt last round, what if someone came home, what if someone saw her on the couch what if mom came home early or dad or her little brother didn’t go to football practice today? Her shirt was open her bra was off and she felt the cool air on her nipples. But what she longed for was that smell of sex, that burning delicious smell she could only get from working herself up, her fingers moved over her clit and again she felt his breath on her lips what would that mint feel like being breathed into her as they fucked. Her hand moved faster her fingers were moist as she sniffed the air, god damn she was close, this was the closest she had ever come and been able to stop. She wanted it badly but she wanted that scent, her own sweet scent the one she would cover him with God damn edging was hard. She stopped her hand stopped her breath, she imagined he stopped, his face was angry it was the only thing she could think of that would stop her, his angry face glaring at her telling her not to cum it wasn’t time yet. She felt the sweat running down her forehead she inhaled, there it was the scent she could smell it the scent of sex, the scent of him inside of her, the scent she so badly wanted. She took her hand wet with her own essence and grabbed the piece of spearmint gum, she sniffed her sex and the gum together and then began to chew, there would be no stopping this time, her teeth and tongue cut through the gum as her saliva washed his mint kisses into her mouth once again her hand took its place for his body and this time his face smiled he kissed back and told her he loved her and they made wild passionate love on her parents couch and she came in his arms and arched her back sliding from the couch onto the wood floor being brought to orgasm in perfect love and then she heard the kitchen door.

    443 words because god damn it. lol

  2. antonioangelo21 says:

    Her finger slid down. What if mom came home early or her brother didn’t go to practice? Her shirt was open, what she longed for was that delicious smell of sex she could only get from working herself up, her fingers moved and she felt his breath on her lips, minty. Her hand moved faster, she was close. She wanted it badly but she needed her own sweet scent the one she would cover him with God damn edging was hard.
    She imagined his face was angry it was the only thing that could stop her. She felt the sweat running down her forehead she inhaled; there it was the scent of him inside of her she so badly craved. She took her hand wet with passion and grabbed the piece of gum, the scent of spearmint mixed with sex, her teeth cut through the gum as her saliva washed his mint kisses. She began to stroke and this time he smiled, they made wild passionate love on her parents couch her back sliding from the couch onto the wood floor being brought to orgasm in perfect love and then she heard the kitchen door.
    195 words hit it with a machete.

  3. “You come first.” She panted and slowed the rhythm of the small circles she applied to her clit.

    They’d been at this all night. Edging themselves higher, and higher stopping right before their climaxes hit the point of no return.

    “Why should I let you win?” He said palming his hard thick cock and slowly stroking it from base to tip.

    “Because you always win.”

    “That’s because I pay attention to your triggers.” He walked to her side of the bed and angled his cock toward her mouth. She arched up to taste the shiny pearl of liquid at its tip only to have him move it out of reach. “Tell me what you want, and it’s yours?”

    With his musky smell so close, she could feel the tension cultivating deep in her womb. Her fingers made tighter circles, and her rhythm picked up speed. She should have taken off these damn jeans.

    “I want to taste you.” She saw the victory in his eyes as he lowered the smooth head to her lips. Her favorite flavor filled her mouth, and her shuddering release rocked wave after wave through her body.

    She was grateful they would both be winners…eventually.

    199 words

  4. “Undress now.” He tells me as he turns back to me & opens toy cabinet.
    I remove my shirt, feeling my nipples harden as air hits them. Unbuttons jeans slides hand down unable to resist flicking clit to relieve some of the pressure already built up from anticipation. A small grunt slips out.
    “Little one, are you familiar with edging?” Sir asks without turning around.
    “No sir.” I answer, quickly removing hand, heart pounding in fear of being caught.
    “Oh, pet you will be after tonight – Were you touching my clit?”
    Breath stutters, whispers in reply, “Yes, sir”
    “Such a bad girl.”
    “I was going to let you cum at the end of the lesson, but now I will take you right to the brink of your orgasm; right to the edge of the cliff, then yank you back. Over and over tonight with no release. I will have your body so onslaught with pleasure and unmet need you will be able to think of nothing but the tightly coiled tension in your body, your pussy will be dripping wet and throbbing. When you are mindless, feral with need I will then send you to bed.”

    198 words.

  5. Lilah Langdon says:

    He fucks like the ocean.

    When I’m alone, that’s what I think about. I unbutton myself and guide my hand down, remembering the wet, deep waves of his love. My fingertips act as his and I surf each stroke, inhaling the sweet scent of my own arousal as liquid fire floods my belly.

    He licks the shell of my ear and whispers how beautiful I am – how he longs to be submerged in the slick abyss of my ecstasy.

    My barriers erode.

    He buries himself and, with each stormy thrust, he drags me out and wrecks me. The plunging breakers foam and I can taste his brine on my lips; I can feel the spray.

    I swell for him – just for him – my tempest.

    As each crashing crest of tide slams down against the jetty, a scream begs to bubble forth from my lips. I’m edging at the precipice of something furious, but I don’t want to let go – not yet.

    I can drown later; my groin holds.

    171 words

  6. Gingerandgreen says:

    “Beautiful? I’ll be home in three hours. Be ready for me?” His voice catches, then he whispers, “Can’t wait to touch you.”

    I drop the phone and drum my feet on the ground. I bite my fist, but squeal around the flesh anyway. Three hours!

    I’m half naked in the livingroom. I’ve had to use my own hands for eight long months, pretending they belonged to my soldierboy. I’m so ready for him. I’ve waxed, plucked, buffed myself until I shine, but that’s not what he meant.

    My hand slips down my jeans, inside my panties – which are soaked – and begins the sliding journey around my pussy. My clit stands to attention, thrilled by the slight touch of my fingertip. I open wider, edging closer to orgasm, retreating again. I’m not going over that cliff. Not until he gets here.

    The sound of his key in the lock sends a new flood of desire through me. I leap up to greet him exactly as I am – naked, wet and desperate. He barely has time to drop his stuff before I am in his arms, burying my nose in his scent, and falling over the precipice.

    “ I’m home.”

    200 words by @Gingerandgreen

  7. I swallow my whimper as I slide my fingers from where they feel best to where I’m equally wanting and without.



    And open.

    My feet glide along suede as I stretch my legs and push my jeans down so I can open more.

    While it’s an unignorable reminder that I’m certainly alone, unfilled, it’s also the deepest way to surrender to absolute susceptibility. When am I ever more vulnerable than on my back, breasts and belly unprotected, and my softest, most precious, most delicate place open?


    I stifle another whimper, feeling minuscule muscles around my eyes clench around closed lids. I slide slow circles, concentrating on morning light French kissing my nipples and hips. I think of peonies unfolding for the sun, showing the whole world all their dainty, sacred, barely-ready-to-open pink.

    My bottom lip falls from my top at the thought. I cry out. Opening my mouth edges me so close my bones feel like flames and my curled-tight toes snap and pop like kindling.

    I arch, circle, slide and breathe. I’ve tinted the air in love’s room with tender innocence, like gentle virginity and barely ready peonies.

    New pink.

    So-open pink.



    Just like me.

    201 words – oops 🙂 @soWarrenAshley

  8. I touch.

    Naked from the waist up, my hand inside my unbuttoned jeans, I think of him.

    I think of how if he were here, watching me, commanding me; I would probably be done already. If he were here, he would have me edging so close to coming and forcing me back down that I would be a panting mess.

    I caress.

    I would be begging him for permission to come. I would be crying with frustration because my body and mind belong to him so entirely that I refuse to come until he says so.

    But he’s not here.

    I whimper.

    He didn’t want the love that came with my submission.

    It’s been months and I still explode with his name on my lips. It’s been months and I still beg him to let me come. Inside my head I picture him withholding permission just because he can.

    I moan.

    And that’s what does it.

    I surrender.

    That’s what gets me there; the memory of him, powerful and confident, devouring me with his eyes as I touch myself.

    He’s not here but he’s everywhere.

    I remember.

    My master set me free but I am still his.

    I cry.

    199 words.

  9. Sam Overton says:

    I wasn’t sure if I was ready to do this, this was something that had always seemed a little wrong to me. But, if he wanted me to do it, then I was going to do it. He had told me it would feel good. Slowly I slid the t-shirt I was wearing off and discarded it on the ground. With my other hand I unbuttoned my pants and slowly slid the zipper down. Shakily I placed my hand under the waistband of my jeans. Closing my eyes I nervously bit my lip, hard, and slid my finger inside of myself. The sensation that erupted in my pelvis made me moan out in pleasure and soon, the movement of my finger started to gain speed. Soon I was on the verge of finding my release, but came to a stop. He had called the act edging, and he wanted me to do it. Slowly I moved my finger in and out, until I was on the verge of release again, and then stopped. The feeling that plagued me made me cry out in need. But the third time I could not take it. My finger moved so fast, and then my release came, and it was like nothing I had ever felt before.
    Words: 200
    Twitter: darklybeautiful

  10. Caffeine_Needed says:

    “Do it dirty.” His command was quiet.

    Eva knew what he wanted. It was a code they had practiced, over and over.

    He had worked her over relentlessly just minutes prior. Not once. Not twice. She had lost count.

    Eva was a hot mess.

    She hesitated and ran her fingers through her short, ashen hair.

    “Now.” A decibel louder, he again insisted.

    Eva’s pale blue eyes locked on his almost black ones and her lips parted to allow two fingers to slip inside her warm, wet mouth. She slowly pulled them out and before they could dry she had unbuttoned her jeans with the other hand and smoothed over her freshly waxed mound and slipped past swollen folds.

    Her aim was perfect.

    She bit her lip as she watched her rose-hued nipples perk up, feeling a flush of heat her fingers were eliciting.

    “Sweet Jesus.” His approving words were like honey.

    “Stop.” God, she hated him.

    “Fuck you.” The words spilled from her lips as her chest was heaving.

    Oh shit.

  11. Caffeine_Needed says:

    And… that was 170 words. Duh, forgot to mention.


  12. Eyelids are the only parts of myself that are unopen. Ebbing and edging this way requires it. If I see her watching me, I’ll slip, and I know –

    She wants me helpless first.

    I keep my lips parted so I can taste air like holy water on my tongue. I keep my sense of sound open so to hear birds outside and cars going by and my best friend’s little sighs. I keep my heart wide to let veneration in and my knees apart so she can watch my fingers slide, spread and slowly soak right into bare, burning hot, balm of Gilead pink petals.

    I keep jeans on but pushed down because they’re her Calvin’s and she likes them on me. I keep even the hand in my hair unclosed and my toes consciously uncurled. There isn’t a single part of myself I don’t want her eyes to touch.

    “More, girl.”

    Her voice further unfolds my heart and softly unseals tear ducts.

    “Let me see.”

    Her admiration feels so good I cry.

    I leak longing and hold my petals so open with my left fingertips while I make dew with my right, desperate for love’s blessing.

    200 hundred words are not nearly enough

  13. My fingers slip lower, my eyes close. Does he know? No. I have not heard him from across the way. Will he even notice what I have stolen from his mother’s clothesline? He has many pairs and I have none.
    It’s not stealing. I will return them when night falls. It’s not a sin to borrow something. My fingers, however, touching wet skin. That, is most certainly sinful. I cannot help it. I stroke faster, my breath quickens. I think of his smile, his leather jacket and rockabilly hair. Oh, oh, oh. Stop! I mustn’t. I am a good girl.
    The jeans are soft, worn. He has worn them many times. They are snug around my hips but much too long. They feel like freedom. Good girls don’t wear jeans. They wear long dresses that hide everything underneath. Mother says so. My chest heaves, bare without my cross. I wear only his jeans. Levi’s, the label reads. They are American, just like him. One day I will speak with him. One day, I will let him touch me. Only then, will I feel what happens after the point where I always stop myself. I am a good girl. For now.
    200 words.

  14. Trust

    The clock struck 10:00
    It was time for FaceTime.

    “I’ve been a good girl and haven’t touched myself all week- not until you tell me I can.”

    “You may touch yourself, but have to follow my instructions.”

    She stripped off her T-shirt, unzipped her jeans, and slid her hand between her legs, spreading them slightly, as technology allowed him to be part of it all and still control her.

    Smiling, he started at the number 10.

    As he counted down each number, she told him something she knew he wanted to hear.
    At number three she started to come and quickly moved her hand away, her sharp breathes slowing slightly down.

    “You’re so good my dear. Learning where the edge is and what takes you there, making me want to please and reward you…”

    Starting again, he finally got to one.

    “Please. Please may I come? I’ve been a good girl.”

    “Yes. And I will reward you even more next time with my mouth between your spread legs.”

    His voice triggered her deepest responses mentally and physically as her back arched, head back and moaning when she came hard.

    “Welcome to Edging,” she heard his voice say.

    Words: 199 (the real version is over 400 😉

  15. She’s touching herself as I walk into the room, long fingers pushing against wet flesh. My wet flesh.

    “You’re going to pay for that,” I say calmly, almost in a whisper.

    She smirks. “I know.”

    When my clothes are scattered on the floor in a direct path to her body, I push her back onto the thick comforter. Again and again, I bring her to the very edge of her orgasm, then trail my fingers and mouth away. My fingers push deep inside, finding the soft place inside that makes her squirm and beg.

    “I can’t take it,” she says, her fingers wrapping around my hair.

    But I know she can. She has no choice. I smile down at her, fragile and vulnerable.

    “You can and you will, darling.”

    She’s so wet, her own slickness mixing with my saliva, and although I could do this for hours, I don’t know how much longer I can take it. We’ve reached the point of our encounter where I’m not letting her come for herself; I’m making her come for me.

    “Now, kitten.”

    180 words. @deepdarkplaces

  16. Title: Handiwork

    Mark loved to bring Katy to the edge with their joined hands, just to pull her back and do it again and again, until they went off the cliff together. Perhaps he was a control freak, but she let him. Hell, she craved it.

    With his hand on top of hers, he pushed their fingers in and out of her sex, swirling and twisting as he went.

    “Mmm, you are so wet,” Mark murmured, pinching her nipples gently with his other hand.

    Katy squirmed and pushed her pelvis into their hands.

    He ran his free hand down to her pants and quickly pulled them down, completely exposing her to him. Mark chuckled and thrust their fingers deeper inside of her.

    “More,” Katy moaned.

    Mark smiled and worked her clit while their joined hands continued the urgent pace in and out of her. He watched her body tense as her orgasm built and just as she was about to fall apart, he pulled their fingers out.

    She gasped, but Mark wasn’t going to leave her hanging for long. Before she took a second breath, his mouth replaced their fingers, taking her to new heights.

    193 Words

  17. She was stretched tight, legs over the back of the office sofa-bed, trembling. He rustled papers, typed something on the keyboard.
    “You need to learn control. Wait for my permission.”
    She shuddered, her hand abraded by the open zipper of her jeans as she circled her fingers over her clit. Had she ever been this swollen, this wet?
    Her nipples pulled tight, almost painful. She desperately wanted to touch them but didn’t dare.
    He called this edging.
    She called it torture.
    Her naked back rubbed on the tangle of soft sheets. They smelled like him and the loss of control he’d admonished her for.
    So close, right there…
    She drew her hand away, fisting it on her sweaty stomach. Her muscles quivered, fighting the spasms of near orgasm.
    The mattress dipped under his weight as he finally joined her. His touch on her skin was both balm and fuel. Strong fingers replaced hers, stroking, sliding in where she was open and starved.
    “Such a good girl, so wet and needy. Should I let you come now?”
    He smiled that sinful, beautiful smile, then he pulled his hand away. “You forgot to say please, pet.”

    Words: 198

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