A Taste of Summer

Elyse Knowles by Josephine Clough

         

Thursday: 3 of 6

Mask Within, modelled by Shelly and photographed by The Illustrated Eye.
Found by Suburbansub.

The Executive Floor -Short Story. (Redux)

I didn’t hear him at first!

Far too busy undoing his belt and pulling his trousers down around his ankles.

Then his underpants.

Pale blue with a dark waistband. It was obvious that a woman purchased the stylish garment for him as, judging by his appalling tie; he had no fashion sense at all.

His arse looked white and vulnerable and then he mumbled again.

I leaned over him, lips close to his ear.

‘Did you say something?’

His face was mashed against the desktop, thinning hair tousled and the tips of his ears were red.

Blushing from shame.

Or fear.

Hopefully, both.

How very nice!

‘Don’t,’ he croaked.

‘You don’t mean that,’ I chuckled.

‘No. I do. Please…don’t…’

I folded the hem of his suit jacket back over his waist, revealing the bright orange lining. Another example of his terrible taste. Continue reading

The Way We Were (Story)

He stood nervously by the dressing table as his wife applied lipstick. The room was silent except for the sound of his ragged, hoarse breathing. In the evening air, the distant sound of a car door slamming, laughter and a dog. He watched the lipstick move over her lips.

Suddenly, his wife was very sexy to him. She was wearing a full white satin slip with a froth of lace at the hem as well as at the bust line. Her hair was curled and shone as she had visited the hairdressers that afternoon.

The “do” had been expensive but it wasn’t every day that a woman…

As usual, he was naked in her presence with his rotund belly hanging over his groin. Middle age had not been good to him. Too many business lunches, cocktails and minimal exercise as well as a genetic leaning towards baldness. The mirror reminded him constantly that he was not worthy, that she deserved something better. Continue reading

The Red Bikini (Short Story)

He watched her everyday.

It was a ritual. One coffee and one croissant, which he usually left half eaten for the seagulls.

Sitting on the resort terrace, sipping coffee and nibbling at the croissant, he watched her lying by the pool.

Watching her was part of his small ritual.

Exquisitely beautiful in an elegant but sexily skimpy red bikini, she lay on the white sun lounge and surveyed the world through her fashionable sunglasses.

Honey coloured skin, cascading thick black hair and red lips, fingernails and toenails to match the bikini. Continue reading

Martha & Paul (F/M Story)

Martha was not a vengeful woman.

I’m not, she told herself silently, staring at her reflection in her dressing table mirror.

There was that time, though, that Martha partly cut through the laces of Lena Thomas’s tennis shoes so they would break in the middle of her championship match.

Lena had eliminated Martha from the finals, due to a bad line call by the linesman Lena was shagging at the time so revenge, in Martha’s opinion, was mandatory.

And now Paul had shagged Martha’s sister!

Technically, her step-sister but it was still a case of in-family shagging and that was, in Martha’s eyes, a definite no-no! 

‘I didn’t know he was with you,’ Sharon had protested and Martha had shaken her head sadly.

How could she? How could he? Continue reading