Monday, June 25, 2012

Tag

(Gardener's note:  I know it's been a while, friends.  RealLife® reared its ugly head and has prevented me from adding much more that a few Flash Fiction Friday stories to this blog.  I'm back, however, and to start, I've got a story inspired by a picture I came across on a Tumblr site.  I hope you like it!)


The daylight peeked through the window, waking Gwen. She felt as much as saw her boyfriend, Ronnie, laying next to her. Gwen thought about the night before-the urgent, hungry need that engulfed them both. They had fallen upon each other like two starving people, sucking and fucking till the wee hours of the morning. Gwen realized it was time for her to collect her clothes and let herself out.


As she searched around the flat, Gwen started to panic. Her blouse was missing all the buttons-they flew everywhere when Ronnie ripped it off her just inside the front door. She could only find four, if you discounted the two that landed in the fish tank. Her skirt was in one piece, and would have been serviceable, if it wasn't for the stains front and back. Ronnie's jizz stained the front and her quim honey soaked the back. She couldn't wear it to work.

About the only things that survived were her stocking and suspender belt, which was amazing when she saw her shredded knickers. Gwen could work with that. All she'd need was something to throw on and she could make it home, change and fly into work almost on time. “Oi, Ronnie!” she called to her boyfriend, “Where's your mac?”

“It's at the cleaners” was the sleepy reply. “Why? Is it raining?”

“I need something to wear home” she yelled back. “You buggered up my kit last night, you tosser!”

Ronnie shuffled out of the bedroom and crossed to the coat rack. He took down a hooded yellow plastic thingand handed it to Gwen. “Wear this” was all he said as he shuffled back to bed.

Gwen couldn't figure out how to put the poncho on at first. She stood there, starkers except for her stockings and heels, turning the yellow plastic over and over. She finally slipped it over her head. It barely covered the top of her stockings and was completely open on both sides. She looked at the clock on the mantle and muttered “Bloody hell!” as she headed for the door.

Outside on the walk, Gwen looked all around. There wasn't a black cab to be seen. What she did see was a bobby at the corner. He was staring at her, and why not? She looked like a banana standing there on the one day it wasn't raining in London. At least he was far enough away he couldn't see her naked bum peeking through the opening.

She stood there for about ten minutes, freezing her arse off. Even her nipples were stiff from the cold. “Here I am, freezing my tits off while Ronnie is nice and warm in bed” she thought, “and still no black cabs!” Gwen decided she'd just pack it in, go back to Ronnie's flat, call out of work with “lurgi” and crawl back in bed with Ronnie.

Ronnie was sleeping soundly when all of a sudden two blocks of ice landed on his bum. “OI!” he yelled, then turned over to see a naked, grinning Gwen beside him. “Tag, you're it!” was all she said.

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