Category Archives: Adult

Mistakes

So here it is – the start of my new novel ….. and I really have no idea where things are going to go… 

 

Tanita

Clutching her baby closely to her chest she ran down the rain soaked street.  It wasn’t a good night to be out as the promised storm lashed the coastal town with a force greater than predicted. The lamplights cast pools of light and dingy shadows full of promise. At the same time the rain and lighting caused disturbing shadows and frightening images in every doorway and plate glass window and door.

Running as if her young life depended on it she was careful to stay hidden in the shadows. She wanted nobody to see her, and luckily the weather meant there was hardly anyone around. The storm had sent the whole town’s population heading for cover on this fateful night in October. Now everyone was holed up for the night in their warm homes. This year there would be no trick or treating, or at least none of the traditional kind that usually filled the streets.

As she ran she could feel her heart beating wildly in her chest. She could also feel her baby’s laboured breathing through the blanket she had snatched up and wrapped him  in as part of their escape. Although her thoughts were jumbled and her mind consumed by fear she also felt a kind of elation that at last she was free, that they were both free from Mack and his cruel ways.

 

Any thoughts? Comments? suggestions? Encouragement? ….

 

11 - Mistake

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Filed under Adult, Contemporary, horror, Thriller/Mystery

Drunk ….

They’d drunk too much, but that didn’t matter now as his fingers traced their way back up her body. He knew how to play her and she loved it all. She was drunk on the cheap vodka they had shared and drunk on the intense feelings he was gently manipulating within her.

She moaned as he orchestrated the storm deep within her once again. She was falling and rising all at once. She was giving over the control of her body to a man she’d known for less than a few hours, and she didn’t care. This was passion, this was sublime, this was exactly what she had been looking for.  She surrendered to his touch.

Pulling at the wiry hair on his chest she traced a damp finger down the ink snake to his other. He grunted and smiled looking deep into his eyes as her fingers encircled his prized possession. She had control now. She knew just what she was doing and revelled in it.

All thoughts of what had gone on earlier in the day that led her to the bar had been banished. Now for the second time she was giving in to him, She was letting herself be taken down.

His hot breath swept past her ear as he moved in and chewed her ear, her neck, her shoulder. This was how it should be. This was right.

12 - passion - Drunk

Thanks to Michelle for today’s prompts

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Pattern

Chief Detective Inspector Alex Carlson sat looking out the window at the London skyline as she slowly and methodically bit her nails. In her smart blue suit, with regulation skirt just above the knee she looked every part the senior detective she was. However on this gray Saturday morning she felt nothing like that.

There was an abrupt knock at the door and in walked Detective Inspector James Arlington. He was carrying two steaming mugs of tea. “Ma’am,” he said as he handed one to Alex.

Alex nodded and after taking a sip set the mug down on the windowsill. “What a bloody mess,” she said staring out over Saint Paul’s Cathedral.

“Ma’am?” James responded formally.

“You can cut the ‘Ma’am’ malarkey out in here James. This case: what a bloody mess. Literally and figuratively.”

“I see,” James said and sipped his tea quietly. He knew just how to handle this situation. They had been a team for two years now and had solved some of the worst cases he could remember, and with a little luck and foresight they would solve this one too.  He let the silence hang between them.

“Seven dead in three days. We have to get a grip on this and soon.The press are already baying for blood.” Alex picked up her mug, stood up and moved to her desk.  She shuffled some papers and pushing them aside sat on the edge of her desk. As she did so her skirt slipped up her legs revealing a large portion her upper thigh. She noticed James noticing and pulled at her hemline.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to embarrass you,” She smiled openly.

“And you didn’t.” James laughed. The tension was broken at least for the time being.

“Have you  really never….?” Alex began.

“Let’s not go there again. I wouldn’t ask the same of you, so…” James shrugged.

“Sorry.” Alex smoothed her wavy blonde hair out of her eyes. The tension was back, after just a brief respite. “And what do we have?”

James was used to sudden changes in conversational direction. “Seven dead in three days,” he repeated Alex’s words,”And little of anything else.”

“There’s no sodding pattern,” Alex’s frustration was clear in the clipped way she spoke. “Or rather, there are too many bloody patterns.”

“We just need to sort the wheat from the chaff. Come on let’s go start the meeting.” James checked his watch, stood and turned towards the door. “All we need is a small advantage and the case will be wide open.”

“Oh how I love your optimism,” Alex told him as she stood and moved towards the door. She hoped that going over the case one more time would give them a clear pattern to the spree of murders that had untied her patch.

“Listen up,” she said loudly calling her team to order in the time honoured manner.

9 - Pattern

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Partial

Standing over the body the two detectives were discussing the ongoing case.

So far three people had been murdered and there seemed to be no connection between them , this call-out appeared to be the fourth . This one was different. In the past three the scenes had been left in immaculate conditions, almost as if the murderer had cleaned the house after him, which in fact he had. This was different because the room in which the body had been found, by the distraught housekeeper, was in a state of complete disarray. 

“We could be lucky this time,” DI Wallace suggested as he righted a cup on the coffee table with his pen. “The place is in a mess. I wouldn’t be surprised if he was disturbed before he could clear up. And that could mean we have all sorts of trace here.”

“Trace is fine, Sir,” Anderson, the DI’s sidekick agreed, “But we’d need a match on the data base, and a suspect in ind would be nice.”

“Uh-huh, but even with just one finger print, or a partial we could be moving this case forward, insead of stuck in the mire we’ve been in for the past couple of weeks.” the DI confirmed.

“James, Forensic team,” A young man announced as he came through the door.

“All yours,” Di Wallace told him. “we’re hoping for a result this time. This is the first time that any trace has been a possibility. I know you will, but I want this palace combed with a fine one,”

“Too right we will,” James nodded as he set his case down beside the coffee table. “And right here is where I’m going to start. This coffee table looks grubby enough to have picked up a million prints. With a bit of luck one or more will be from our suspect.”

Wallace and Anderson returned to the station where they added the latest victim’s details to the crime board. “Four bodies and nothing to go on,” Wallace mused as he wrote on the board.

“Reminds me of a joke,” Anderson said smiling.

“Don’t even try it. It’s been done before,” Wallace warned him.

They sat down in front of the boards and stared at the information that was written on it.

All of a sudden DI Wallace’s phone rang. He snatched it up and nodded to Anderson. “Wallace,” he said.

The voice on the other end was James from the Forensics team. “Trace aplenty,” he began, “fingerprints, footprints outside the flat and even hair .”

“Great news,” Wallace replied. “Let me have the details as soon as you can.”

“Will do,” James told him. “We’ve run the fingerprints already,” he added.

“And?” Wallace asked.

“Well most of them were the vic’s and his housekeeper’s, but the one that could tell a story is just a partial, but it’s a partial with form. It could be the breakthrough we’ve been after…”

12 -Partial

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My name is …

At Fifty three years old this was not where Rupert thought he would end up.  He looked round the room and wondered how his fellow sufferers had arrived here and just what their stories were. Of course his eyes alighted with glee on the redhead on the other side of the room. He’d always had a thing for redheads. For a moment he let his mind wander as he considered how he could get to talk to her.

“Rupert, for God’s sake. remember where you are and what you are doing here,” he whispered to himself. Still he stared at the redhead and when he caught her eye as she coquettishly twirled her hair he smiled and received a welcoming smile back.

For a moment he suddenly realised what possibilities a place like this held for him. They were all here for the same reason. It could be quite a candy store for his favourite kind of opportunity.

He continued to look around the room and calculate the possibilities until the guy at the front coughed loudly. For a moment Rupert thought he was staring straight at him, the game up, but then realised he was just being a little paranoid.

“Good evening everyone, my name is Alistair, for those of you who don’t already know.” Alistair, the guy at the front introduced himself. “And I can see we have quite a few new members this evening.”

Rupert was now sure Alistair was staring straight at him as he made eye contact and nodded in his direction. With his heart in his mouth Rupert stood up.

“Hi, My name is Rupert and I’m a sex addict,” he announced.

03- my name is

 

 

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Filed under Adult, Contemporary, humour

Vegetable

The poster on the village hall’s noticeboard announced that there was going to be an interactive lecture the following Friday on healthy eating. Jeannette read the poster with great interest, and then took a photo of it so she wouldn’t forget any of the details. Not only was it on a subject that interested her, but it was also being given by someone she considered to be one of the sexiest women she could ever imagine meeting.

“Come on Bren, it could be fun. after what Doctor John said to both of us, about being a little overweight I think we should at least make an effort to get better informed. and besides we’ll get to eat too. Look it says refreshments included.” Jeannette showed the photo she had taken on her phone to Brenda pointing out the relevant line.

“And you’re wanting to go has nothing to do with who is giving the lecture?” Brenda asked smiling.

“Don’t know what you mean,” Jeannette replied.

“Oh don’t you? Well at least it’ll give us a night out,” Brenda agreed to go, “And besides she is hot and may well give us a few more ideas of what we can do with vegetables besides boiling them to mash.”

“Oh, Brenda you are awful,” Jeannette laughed.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Brenda replied with a twinkle in her eye.

17 - vegetable

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Create

While the title for this little story comes from Fatmumslim the inspiration for the story came from a book I’ve just read called ‘Miss Hargreaves’ by Frank Baker. In this novel the main character creates another by simply imagining her into being….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The clock on the wall behind Tom struck the half hour. Looking over his shoulder he could hardly believe it was already one thirty in the morning. He had been sitting at his laptop for the last five hours with no break creating the next chapter for his latest novel.

Tom looked through the small window over by the bookcase. He could see that it was still raining heavily. He could hear that the wind was still howling down the drive and could see the old sycamore tree thrashing around in the wind, occasionally banging its branches against the side of the house.

Checking the clock one more time he decided that he would stop writing and go to bed as soon as he had edited the last couple of pages.

Scrolling back through his words a little he started to read back his words:

Manel was probably the most dangerous person Anna had ever met but somehow that made him even more exciting. Anna had already turned in for the night some hours back. she was snuggled under the duvet reading while she waited for Manel to return from whatever dastardly errand he had been on that night. Every now and then Anna heard a noise and thought it might be him coming back, but each time so far it had simply turned out to be the house settling or the sounds of the storm raging outside.

Editing some of his words to increase the drama Tom looked out at the storm well aware that it had been the inspiration for the one engulfing Anna’s house in his story. Like Anna, he too had heard the occasional creak on the stairs and other sounds of movement in his house, but unlike Anna he wasn’t expecting anyone home that night.

Tom returned to his editing:

Anna had met Manel in a bar just a short two weeks before. His dark brooding looks, especially his deepset dark eyes, had attracted her from her first glance. The tattoos that showed above his collar and on his hands and wrists might have put some off. To Anna they were additional attractions. Even the slight scar on Manel’s chin made him all the more alluring to Anna.

In his mind’s eye Tom could picture Manel well. He almost felt as if he knew the man was real and was sure he knew the bar that the two had met in.

Anna took Manel home after their first encounter for a night of rough and tense sex. She had enjoyed the pain that Manel had carefully inflicted and had encouraged him with low moans, at least to start with. She had ended up crying out with pleasure as she climaxed again and again under his rough touch.

Over the following days Manel had gone out every evening, returning late. Sometimes he carried a leather holdall with him and even when he didn’t Anna was sure she could make out the outline of a firearm under his jacket. One night as he undressed he unstrapped a hunting knife from a holster on his ankle, smiling all the while at Anna as he did so. Not once did Anna question where he went or what he did while he was out. She realised he lived on the wild side of life and needed no details, what  she wanted him for was what he gave her; unbridled passion and incredible sex. 

Tom sat back from the laptop and smiled. He enjoyed his art and how he created characters out of thin air. He especially liked the evil and bad ones. “Manel,” he said aloud to the screen of the laptop, “You are one mean bastard, aren’t you?”

Behind him in the empty room he was sure he had heard a reply: “You’d better believe it,” the gravelly voice had said.

Tom turned round as the glare from a lightning bolt filled the room. Of course there was nothing there.

“You silly old sod,” he chided himself as he turned back to the laptop.

About to continue editing his story he touched his fingers to the keyboard. At exactly the same moment he felt a calloused hand on his neck. In the reflective surface of the laptop screen he saw a face he recognised, a face he had created. Had he been able he would have screamed, but it was too late for all of that.

16 -create

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Filed under Adult, Contemporary, Thriller/Mystery