The last night – a Giving Up competition entry

It’s been a long time since I’ve really tried to write any proper fiction on anywhere close to a semi-regular basis. I worked out a long time ago that I don’t have a novel in me, but occasionally I manage to knock out the odd short story or postcard from my imagination – given hours with a notebook and copious coffee and hot chocolate.

But after the #EuphOff I realised I’d let my fiction muscles get far too flabby. So when Sex Blog of sorts threw down the gauntlet with her Giving Up flash fiction competition, I figured it’d be an ideal kick up the backside. Homework with a deadline! I always used to be good at *that*.

So here it is. Enjoy.


Kiss me like a final meal
Kiss me like we die tonight
–  One Day Like This, Elbow

She’d known if she told him he’d make a fuss, try to make it something big and special. She just wanted to keep enjoying the moment, like she always had, without thinking ahead. So she’d purposely kept quiet, like this was any other night they’d been together.

She’d almost slipped on the walk home, glancing across at him and realising how little time they had; stopping sharp and yanking him around for a long, deep, searching kiss.

Now they were back in his flat and oh! she was edgy. She opened her mouth to say – something, she didn’t know what – but he swept in to kiss her.

She could feel the impressive bulge straining against his trousers; his hands slid around to her back then down, finding and undoing the zip of her skirt and pushing it past her hips. She shimmied so it dropped to the floor, leaving it pooled around her feet. One hand skimmed back up her body, gliding over her waist and back, making her shiver, coming to rest, tantalisingly, just under her bra clasp. His other hand smoothed over the fabric of her knickers, gently squeezing.

She pulled back for a moment to look at him again. She wouldn’t see this for so long…

He took advantage of the lull to pull at her top, tugging it over her head- and hesitating. Her arms over her head and her top acting as blindfold and restraint – and she heard him exhale appreciatively. His hand swept down the curve of her breasts before he bent to dip his head and nuzzle them.

At the same time he slipped his hand down the front of her knickers, curling his fingers slightly as they brushed her clit and lips, rubbing gently, setting off tiny tremors.

Losing patience, she finished pulling her top off, using her freed arms to grab his head and pull him back up to kiss like there was no tomorrow-

He responded exactly right, pulling her in a practiced tango to the bedroom. Clasping her face between his hands, he kissed her hard then pushed her onto the bed, climbing on top of her. His thick, pulsing cock swung beneath him, brushing against her knickers, setting off the tiniest ripples in the skin beneath and teasing her, making her gasp.

He moved his hand slightly, brushing her lips and clit before withdrawing it completely and positioning his cock at the entrance to her pussy before dipping into her slowly, tantalisingly, pulling back equally slowly, dipping into her again slightly deeper, pulling back again then- oh! He let out a shuddering breath, rolling his hips into hers.

She wrapped her legs around him, pushing their stomachs into sweaty contact; her breasts, still in her bra, brushing against his chest with every breath. Her hips rocked beneath him, setting their own rhythm, urging him deeper into her. One arm around his neck, pulling him in so she could kiss and nibble his neck, she moved the other down his body, lingering for a moment on his waist before continuing to his backside, his buttocks too irresistible to grab and squeeze. His eyes narrowed and he leaned down to bite her lip.

Her thighs tightened around him, her hips bucked faster, her gasps became grunts; he thrust harder, faster, ever more urgently; driving her ever closer – to a shuddering, convulsive, orgasm that ripped a long low strangled moan from her. He groaned in response, the clenching of her pussy triggering his own orgasm – explosive, hot, pulsing into her.

…An hour later, as he began to snore quietly, she pulled her skirt back on, located her left shoe and let herself out.

She started to sob on the walk home. She still had to pack. Still, she’d managed it. She wouldn’t see him again for the next she didn’t know how long, if ever – but their last night together had been just the way she wanted it to be.

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