From this Friday’s release, Sexhair:
The waitress came back to take their orders. Her eyes took in the woman’s hair a second time, and she took less care in hiding her smile. He told the waitress they needed more time.
“Sexhair,” he said, after the waitress left.
“The waitress. She was checking out your sexhair.”
“I have sexhair?” Her expression was a mix of embarrassment and arousal.
“Yeah, it’s all disheveled, like you just got out of bed.”
“I did just get out of bed.”
“It doesn’t just look like it’s been slept on. It looks like it’s been pulled out of shape. Grabbed in a fist. It’s sort of, like, dented on one side.”
“She knows?” asked the woman. “That we’ve been fucking?”
“She knows. I could see it in her smile.”
The woman’s hands shot up to attempt to fix her hair, though she gave up soon after she started, recognizing the task as hopeless. A loopy grin fell across her face, seeing the lust gather in his eyes.
“Do I look slutty?” she asked.
“You look hot.”
“Is that the same as slutty?”
“It’s not dissimilar,” he said, his grin spreading.
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He slapped her ass hard with the flat of the belt, the sound of the impact hanging in the air. She moaned.
“Wait,” she said. She wriggled out of her skirt, then bent over again. Her sheer panties stretched taut over her ass.
“Now,” she hissed.
Read the rest of this story here.
From this Friday’s Serious Moonlight: Mindful.
“He stood. As he walked around the far corners of the bed toward her he began to take off his belt, slipping it through the loops one by one.
Her back was to him when he reached her. Playfully he slapped her ass with it. She gasped. She turned her head to look at him, over her shoulder. She was smiling, but something crouched behind the smile.
Her fingers were outstretched toward her last piece of jewelry, the single shimmering diamond mounted at the end of a strand of silver, left dangling from her ear. It seemed important he not let her finish taking it off.
“Bend over,” he said.
Her hand froze.”
– from J G Cain’s Mindful
His shirt held the smell of him. She pulled it from the closet and wrapped herself in it, remembering his touch.
Every Friday for the next year, Serious Moonlight will release a new erotic flash fiction story. These stories are glimpses into the life of a man and a woman who are curious, creative, sexually adventurous and deeply in love.
The Serious Moonlight stories push hardcore BDSM up against loving tenderness. They make no distinction between what is dirty and what is sweet, what is brutal and what is gentle, what is play and what is real, what is love and what is lust. Hot, playful, subversive, humorous, kinky, sex-positive and literate: it’s all in the mix.
An excerpt from this Friday’s uncharacteristically melancholy release:
He had left the shirt behind because of the missing buttons. One of their first nights together she had straddled him, loosed his tie, and then ripped his shirt open, the buttons popping off as she bit his chest. He rolled over on top of her, quickly peeling off his shirt as she watched with glee, the buttons scattering into the dark corners of her room, never to be found. She had looked, many times.
It became a joke between them, how she was going to sew the buttons back on one day. She was a horrible seamstress.
And the buttons were long gone.
When the elevator doors closed, everyone faced front, as people tend to do. That left them in the back of the car, free to explore each other, unseen by the eyes of the crowd.
They were bound in an ever-tightening net of desire; she watching him, he watching her, each performing for the other. Each the sculptor, each the stone.
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