Hello, My Beauties, this week the Friday Flash prompt grabbed me by the throat, and Dawn happened.
I love it when words come unbidden. There are a lot of them right now, too. The flood of projects has been a little overwhelming. I’m intent on finishing the Smutathon 2019 piece, “The Circus Came to Corwen,” and the newest chapter in the Mound of Gaia series before the end of October. Then it’s on to NaNoWriMo, which is all about finishing the first draft of my magnum opus, “Letters to the Northern Nights.“
Hungry for another Friday Flash offering? Check out my cosmic horror micro-love story “Forever.”
Yikes. What have I done to myself.
Then out of nowhere Dawn appeared. So without further ado – enjoy this Friday Flash morsel of smut (is it micro fiction or prose poetry? I don’t know, you tell me).
Morning and I have reached a fragile truce since you arrived on the scene.
Once I resented the geometry of daybreak. I hated the bright blooms that crept across the floor of my room, like wayward lovers returning to my bed. Then one dawn, while the sun was splashing its heresies onto the horizon, you whispered into the silence
(wake up, pet).
You sat in the corner, legs spread, careless, and unashamed, cock rigid in your palm. How could I despise the way the sunrise caressed your skin or illuminated the curve of your lips as you spoke.
Now when light cracks the sky open, I imagine you seated in the corner watching me like an impatient emperor waiting for his concubine to wake.