Sinful Sunday Week # 31

Welcome back to Sinful Sunday! This week’s judge is last week’s winner, Melfin80!

Sinful Sunday #flashfiction week 31 judge

I call myself dynamic, but in reality I’m just a walking contradiction.  I love words, music, and organization. I have a gnat like attention span and flash fiction has been the perfect outlet for my desire to write.

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


Word Prompt:

Irrumatio Or: irrumation. Etymology: From the Latin irrumare, suck or fellate. Fellatio by actively thrusting into the mouth of a partner.


Photo prompt:

Sinful Sunday #flashfiction week 31 prompt


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


  1. Kristine says:

    She loved the silky soft skin stretched tight over his hot, hard cock as he pushed into her mouth. The veins were prominent, textured against her lips. His pubic hair was trimmed close against his skin but it tickled her face as she swallowed him down.

    She loved the pull of his hand tangled in her hair, holding her as he rhythmically thrust in and out of her mouth, working himself deeper down her throat. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing through her nose, working her lips and tongue against him, wanting to please him, to make him come.

    She loved the rough texture of the wool of his trousers against her hands as she held his hips to steady herself, reminding her that she was completely naked and he was mostly clothed. She listened to the jingle of his belt and the rasp of his breathing as he used her to bring himself over the edge.

    She loved that moment when the cold metal of his wedding ring brushed against her skin, cupping her cheek as he slowly withdrew his softening cock.

    She loved him. And, as he lowered her to the ground, he would love her.

    200 words

  2. Elle T. says:

    She always ends up on her knees and with my dick in her mouth.

    Time and place don’t matter.

    Today is my office. She doesn’t care that I’m in the middle of an important call. She doesn’t pay attention to the voice coming out of the speaker.

    She’s in a trance, taking all of me as deep as she can.

    She looks up. I tremble.

    She moans. I feel it all over me.

    She takes her time, slowly swirling her tongue around my cock. For a while I let her. Then I can’t take it.

    I hang up the phone and grab the back of her hair.

    I thrust harder.

    Irrumatio, she has called it. It’s what she wants. It’s what she came for. So I give it to her.

    It doesn’t take long before I lose it. I dig my fingers deeper into her hair and the sound she makes it’s my kryptonite.

    I come, cursing and shaking. I lose my mind and leave this world. I see nothing but white spots. I feel nothing but bliss; my body gives out on me.

    She always ends up on her knees and I always end up on mine.

    198 words

  3. AnnaLund2011 says:


    Oh, private lessons, for-the-win. Latin is always welcome.

    “Today’s word: Irrumatio,” he says, one eyebrow raised, his hand guiding me, constricting movement.

    He sees that I hesitate, not sure of what I’m doing, and he smiles. “Anything you do right now, with your mouth, lips, tongue, nose, fingers, is going to be good. As long as you keep sucking.”

    I search for hitched breath, for new places to squeeze that elicit moans, and new twirls to do with my tongue to make him jump.

    In minutes he is wild above me, thrusting into my mouth, out-of-control. I breathe through my nose as he blocks me there, and soon he is shooting straight down my throat.

    He looks down at me, sated smile playing on his lips, and says, “When—and how—did I ever get this lucky, woman?”

    “When I registered for your course, Professor,” I answer.

    He looks me over, and says, “You give new meaning to the word bi-lingual.”
    He is sassy, today.

    “Well, next time, YOU can play the little virgin student.” My voice is full of promise. “I’ve got that new strap-on, and, if you’re a good boy, I’ll even use lube.”

    His whole being shudders.


    Word count: 200
    Twitter handle: @AnnaLund2011

  4. Antonio Angelo says:

    She was a graduate student, beautiful and brilliant, I was a bar tender willing to listen. She stayed after the close grateful for my ear. She says Irrumatio I say blow job.

    i could have put in oohs ahhs amd ums and hell yeses to get to 100 but fuck it. Not eligible

  5. Gingerandgreen says:

    My mother once told me that marriage was nothing but a balance of power.

    My wife has missed me. My woman. Mine.

    She kneels in front of me, so sweet, so graceful. Delicate hands, bearing my ring, unzip and unfold, baring me. That part of me. The part that’s hers alone. It weeps for her mouth, greedy and grateful all at once.

    She kisses me there with a reverence that absence and fondness kindled. It jumps, an eager puppy, needing the warm acceptance of her wet mouth.

    I nudge her plump lips, a request but also a quest. Allow me entrance, let me come home, permit me to take you over. She opens up for me with relish, her tongue coaxing me in as if to say ‘come here, boy’.

    My hand feels large on her slender neck where I hold her while I fuck her gently. She demands this of me – this dominance; irrumatio, she calls it – surrendering her power to me, while in reality, she draws the power from me in each sweet suck.

    I am her husband. Her man. Hers.

    My mother was wrong. Marriage is everything in a balance of power. Everything.

    198 words by Gingerandgreen

  6. “Irrumatio.” His voice is commanding, deep and husky. These are my favorite moments: examinations. The professor takes all assessments very seriously, but I especially enjoy the…oral exams. Biting my lip, I unbutton my blouse and let it fall to the floor as he loosens his tie and unzips his slacks. He knows I’ll pass this test; after all, we’ve spent so much time studying.

    As I drop to my knees, his hand immediately finds purchase on the back of my head, entwining his fingers in my hair and holding me steady. The metal of his wedding ring is cool against my neck but I ignore it. This isn’t about anything more than fucking.

    When his thick, swollen erection is before me, I open my mouth and present myself for his pleasure. There is no hesitancy as he pushes past my parted lips and begins to thrust with force. I love the way the silky head of his cock prods at the back of my throat with each drive.

    For a moment, I pull away, licking up his shaft as I go. “Irrumatio,” I repeat the word of the test before taking him as deep as possible once again.

    199 words

  7. Reagan says:

    Mitch leaned against the potter’s shed behind the main house and jerked his tux zipper down. “Come on. It’ll take a sec.”

    “You just got married, you freak.”

    “Then this will be the last time. Please.”

    “She’s my sister,” I snapped.

    He pulled my head down onto him. “Then we’re keeping it in the family.”

    I couldn’t resist Mitch. I untucked his growing penis and sucked him in between my lips. One hand massaging his scrotum, the other wrapped around his shaft. A quick glance up proved he loved watching me work as much as I loved him watching. I took him in deep to the back of my throat and gagged.


    He moaned.

    “You liked that.”

    He pushed himself in again, trusting against my mouth, forcing my cheek to pop. Faster and faster and faster he plummeted until his body jerked and he pulled free. On the verge, I swirled my tongue around his head in tight circles and worked my fingers closer to his anus.

    Mitch groaned. His body spasmed. A steam of white shot to my cleavage, landing just clear of the pink satin maid of honor dress.

    “That’s the last time!” I ordered.

    He smiled.

    200 words

  8. BellaScotia says:

    One word scrawled on a page opened up a new way to please him. Irrumatio. I had to look up its meaning, but the very thought of it excited me. I will do anything to make him stay.

    The quick staccato of his footsteps as he approaches seem to match the beat of my eager heart.

    Our eyes meet briefly, the desire in his soothing the craving I’ve struggled to hold at bay.

    With deft fingers he releases himself and salty desire greets my lips. “Fuck my mouth,” I whisper to let him know I want this too.

    “Fuck, yeah,” he hisses, pushing deeper. “Take all of it.”

    His pace is frantic, almost violent, demanding everything I can give. For these brief moments he belongs to me. His passion, his pleasure, his fulfilled desire are all mine.

    A frisson of pain heralds his release as his fingers tighten in my hair and his cock jerks deep in my throat.

    Afterwards, there are no terms of endearment, no soothing caresses. He simply straightens his clothes and leaves.

    I catch the mocking glint of his wedding ring as he turns the doorknob. As always, it plunges me back into this savage loneliness.

    Twitter @BellaScotia1
    Word Count 200

  9. MeraNaamJoker says:

    “Professor,” he calls me, and it’s both indictment and acknowledgment of my background, though he’s more educated than I. When we were first feeling our way forward together, I would wince every time he said it.

    “Irrumatio is my favorite,” I told him on a satisfied sigh, the first time he did it.

    He frowned and picked up his phone. Later I’d discover he was looking up the definition of the word I’d used. At the time I thought he was bored. “You can’t just say, ‘when you fuck my mouth,’ professor?” he said after a few seconds.

    Hiding the sting his words caused, I shrugged. “Words are meant to be spoken. Irrumatio was feeling neglected.”

    Over the years, we each taught the other. He speaks, now, as he fucks my mouth, still wearing the uniform of the wealthy world he inhabits effortlessly. “Good girl.” He never leaves me feeling neglected.

    My hair slips, and the cold metal of his ring presses to the nape of my neck. He chose stainless steel for the object that would symbolize his commitment to me. Although he never told me why, I knew. It was for the same reason I chose platinum.

    Twitter: @in_purdah
    Word count: 199

  10. Every Sunday until last Sunday, Robin and I met at church, sat together through the service, then went to lunch. After lunch I walked her to her car, and we went our separate ways.

    That Sunday after lunch, when we reached her car, she put my hands on her ass, wrapped her arms around my neck, pressed her entire body against me, and kissed me. She whispered, “See you at my house.”

    I dropped my keys four times as I crossed the parking lot. When I got to her house, the door opened, and she peeked around it, “Come in.” I did, closing the door behind me.

    She was naked. My brain cells said, “Wow!” and before I could do anything, she’d dropped to her knees, opened my pants, and pulled out my dick. I kept thinking, “I’m dreaming. I gotta be dreaming,” as I watched her head ride up and down the length of my cock. After a few strokes, she stopped and looked up at me. “I want you to try irrumatio.”


    She put my hands on the back of her head, “Fuck my face. Any way you want.”

    Sundays will never be the same.

    198 words

  11. randommama says:

    Fellation, blow-job, irrumatio, cock sucking….whatever you want to call it, the point was that I’d been waiting all day to be able to fuck my girl’s mouth. My girl loves to suck me off. It’s her favorite kind of foreplay before we fuck until we’re spent.

    She’d been sending me lascivious looks all damn day, driving me wild with need. She was doing it on purpose too. She didn’t wear the outfit she did, the red lipstick that she knew always took my breath away, nor did the god forsaken, sexy as hell, hip wiggling whenever she entered my office just because it was the norm for her. It was her way of punishing me for not agreeing to blow the work day off and spend the day in bed together like she wanted. To say I’d been distracted all day would be an understatement. I wanted nothing more than to just throw her down on my desk and have my way with her, but I couldn’t.

    Finally, the work day was done, the office empty. It felt good to get my cock in her pretty, little mouth at last. We both moaned in pleasure and relief.

    Twitter: @randommama
    Word count: 198

  12. rebecca says:

    He always starts off so gentle. He doesn’t want to hurt her.

    “Jesus, yes.”

    She’s so good. Too good. His hands tangle in her hair, coaxing her toward him, encouraging each soft, slow suck.

    “Fuck, Sarah.”

    She moans around his length. He fists his pants in his free hand.

    He wants to be gentle. He can’t. Not when she gives him what he wants.

    Irrumatio, she’d called it. It was right after they started this, after he’d almost apologized for being so rough. He loves her vocabulary almost as much her mouth.

    His grip tightens. He can’t stop.

    Her eyes fall shut. She knows.

    With shameless thrusts, he uses her. He doesn’t feel guilty anymore. Not about this.

    He comes with a curse, still shaking long after she tucks him back into his pants. It’s always like that with her. Every fucking time.

    “Anything else, Sir?”

    “Nothing else, for now.”

    She’s smiling as she walks out the door.

    He zippers his pants. His wedding ring catches the light, mocking him. Head from his secretary on his lunch. God, he’s so fucking cliché.

    He doesn’t want to hurt her.

    It would be so much easier if she weren’t always so damn willing.

    201 ineligible words 😉

  13. I don’t just want her mouth.
    I need it.
    It’s been forever: 14 days, each of which were forever, since I saw her. Now, driving straight from the airport to her apartment at 2 a.m., all I can think of is the sweet, heavy warmth of her mouth.
    My cock presses boldly at my zipper, starving for her. It pulses when I think of her opening her lips, gentle kisses to the head giving way to irrumation.
    The last 5 miles are endless.
    When I arrive, I barely manage to close the door before I’m seeking her out, raw, irresistible need pounding through me like panic.
    I wake her with unceremonious kisses, and she returns them, achingly soft and fresh and fuck, I *need* her.
    Presumptuous in wild desire, I place her hand on me. she whimpers. she’s endured forever too. I unzip and her skin is on me, everywhere, like air.
    She guides me to her mouth and it feels so fucking good, I swallow a sob.
    Sensing my urgency, she doesn’t pace herself. She envelops my cock, sucking me in greedily, and in moments, I’m losing control, fucking her mouth with grateful abandon.
    “I missed you” doesn’t begin to tell.

    200 words on the nose.

  14. We’ve loved our whole lives. Before her, he’d never handled me like I was breakable. He knew better.

    His tell is his touch, as if his trespasses make me fragile.

    He lies with his words, even with his eyes, but not his hands.

    He’s with her now. I’m in our bed, alone.

    My heart throbs in my throat. I can’t swallow. I can’t really breathe. I can’t do anything but stare at our ceiling and imagine them, together.

    My pulse dips to my belly. My heart stays in my throat. I don’t make a sound, but my entire body aches and burns and weeps.

    When he returns, I’m so twisted I crawl to the carpet as he sits.

    “Adfui vobis,” I barely whisper. “Cupio te.”

    I unbutton, unzip and unhide him while he caresses lies.

    “Amare,” I promise.

    “Pedicabo,” I pray.

    “Irrumare,” I plead.

    He’s full in my mouth then, pushing my heart out of my throat with the head of his still-slick cock.

    Now, I can swallow.

    Now, I can breathe.

    He’s not the only liar.

    It’s his little darling my tongue loves, her sex I’m greedy for the taste of, her that I lie for.

    200 words

    Latin translation, in order:
    I missed you. I need you.
    Fuck me.
    Use me.

  15. “I have something for you,” she whispered in his ear, running her hands down his dress shirt. She loosened his tie and unbuttoned the collar.

    “Yes?” He unbuckled his belt as he stepped out of his oxfords.

    “French art,” she growled, taking two steps back before untying her wrap dress.


    “Gainful knowledge.” Her dress slid off, silk puddling on the floor.

    “Continue.” He opened his zipper as he watched her intently.

    “Gamahuche,” emphasized by the release of her brassiere and its plummet to the floor.


    “Fellatio.” She stepped out of her pumps.

    “Ah.” He unbuttoned his shirt cuffs.

    “Flute playing.” Her panties dropped onto the discarded attire.

    He couldn’t choke out another sound, mesmerized as she took a step forward and dropped to her knees.

    “Irrumatio,” she whispered as she reached into his boxers and pulled out his tumescence. She ran her tongue around the head, savoring the crystal drop that greeted her as he reached complete erection.

    There were no more words for some time, only the soft sounds of pleasure as he took the offering of her plump, lipsticked lips and her warm, soft mouth.

    189 Words

  16. Fiyaaa says:

    I messed up the time difference in my head, but here it is anyway.
    @Fiyaaa 162 words.

    I remember the first time I sucked him off. I’m pretty sure it was his first time ever. Mid-way he weaved his hand through my hair and tugged. Pulling my head back “irrumatio” he said with a cocky smirk. “It means to suck or fellate. Fellatio by actively thrusting into the mouth of a partner.” Fucking classics student. Yeah, definitely a newbie. 
    ‘You wanna come in my mouth or teach me Latin’ I said raising my brow at him. And with that he smirk vanished. 

    10 years later I feel the cool metal of his wedding ring against my scalp as he tugs my hair. ‘Touch yourself, I want to watch you come with my dick in your mouth’. Now it’s not just about the sucking or thrusting. It’s his grip on my hair guiding me, taking me how he wants. It’s his husky voice, demanding and stern. It’s hand undoing the buttons on his shirt preparing for what’s to come to tonight.

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