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The Best of 2013

Sixty-Seven
by Big Ed Magusson

Newbies and the Rules
by Daddy X

Playing With Dolls
by Daddy X

Regular Places
by Daddy X

The Dumb Ass
by Daily Hollow

A Good Settlement
by Ian D Smith

Flayed
by M. Micheal Rakes

Breathless
by Penelope Lake

It's Too Hot for Yard Work
by Penelope Lake

Ship Breakers
by R.E. Buckley

Such Things as Soldiers...
by R.E. Buckley

Time Capsule
by R.E. Buckley

The Shampoo Girl
by Rose B. Thorny

Tartine
by Valentine Bonnaire

Happiness was his warm gun
by Valentine Bonnaire

Year of the Snake
by Valentine Bonnaire



Archives

By Daddy X
Aftermath, 70's Style
Greetings
Re-charge
Smoking Section


By R.E. Buckley
Flasher Feast
It's Just a Dream


By Rose B. Thorny
The Reason for the Season
Stalkings


By Steve Isaak
Flasher Feast
Jailhouse Sleepover

Aftermath, 70's Style

Flash Fiction
by Daddy X

 

Flash FictionThere’d been plenty of booze and lots of pot. Somebody brought some Quaaludes. The dancing and flirting over, maybe eight of us lay around in various stages of nodding off. We’d talked of the esoteric, important and poignant subjects for hours.

Tom had been, if not the life of the party, its soul. He’d engaged easily, interjecting common sense whenever the conversation went too far-out. I’d been lusting after him all evening, my pussy moist and swollen with him. Now I’m on the sofa, my legs across his lap. He and I the only ones still conscious, speaking in hushed tones so as not to wake the others.

But now I feel him under my skirt, knuckles pressing into my slick mound. Looking over to see that everyone’s still asleep, I push back into his hand. He stretches alongside me, turning my face to the sofa back.

“Shhh,” he whispers. “Bite into the pillow.”

Lifting a knee allows him access. Undies pulled aside, he slides into my grateful pussy from behind. We engage in a slow, silent challenge of a fuck. We come, my whimpering mouth full of soggy cushion.  

A pattering of applause erupts unexpected.

_______
© 2012 Daddy X. All rights reserved. Content may not be copied or used in whole or part without written permission from the author.

Bio: Daddy X always wanted to be a dirty old man.
He’s survived the 40’s, 50’s, 60’s, 70’s, 80’s, 90’s, and George W. Bush. He maintained good humor throughout Catholic school, a paper route, muskrat trapping, a steel mill, Bucks County, Haight Ashbury, North Beach, Castro Street, the Mendocino Coast, the SF bar business, drug addiction, alcoholism, a stroke, Hep C, cancer, a liver transplant, a year of interferon, a stickup at his ancient art gallery while tied to a desk (not as cool as it sounds), a triple bypass, and George W. Bush. 
Now he’s old, and it’s time to get dirty.
He’s been with Momma X (greatest editor on earth) for fifty years, but she thinks his stuff is too skievy to deal with. They live in northern California with an epileptic 90 lb lop-eared hound (17” wingspan) and two cats. They raise little green girls to medicinal maturity each and every year.

[Filigrie]



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