Friday, May 24, 2013

Line Dry

He found her sitting at the table in the gazebo, tablecloth spread, dishes laid, pillows tossed along the benches. She looked like the essence of summer itself, her face flush from the sun, her bare shoulders tan above her sundress.

“Hope this fried chicken is as good as you said it would be.”

She smiled as she took the bag he offered. “It will be. It’ll be as tasty as the rest of this picnic.”

He sat on the bench beside her, leaning in for a kiss, wrapping his left arm around her shoulder, gliding his palm over her smooth, warm flesh. His right hand slipped beneath the hem of her dress, sliding along the inside of her parted thighs, slowly working his fingers toward her heat.

Her eyes closed as he whispered in her ear, “Oh, it will be a very tasty feast, and accessible, too.”


“Shh. Every pair of panties you own is hanging on the line, dear. Which can only mean one thing—”

She jumped ever so slightly, then sighed as his lips grazed her neck and his fingertips met her softest, warmest flesh.

“Dinner is served, my love, time to eat.”
Copyright © 2013 Femme Malheureuse 
Words: 197 
Originally submitted to fan fic flash fic - Week 17 
Photo prompt: origin unknown

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