One of my favourite writing procrastinations is the Six Word Memoir website. Doing exactly what it says on the tin, asking you to write a memoir or story in six words. So I challenge you to do the same, right here, right now, and I will post it with next weeks Writespiration. While your at it, why not post on their website too?
He said “Will you…?”
To last weeks entrants and a LOT of sex – quite how we got from insects to sex I’m not sure, but I will remember that for future prompts!
Geoff starts us off with a banging (see what I did there!) tale of sex, wings, dancing and a little more sex! 🙂
Just One Day
I knew it would be tough, getting out of the chrysalis – you know it will be a struggle, but you’re ready for it. Just before the skin cracks you don’t want it to happen but the air is on your eyes, the light – sharp, caustic – is like a magnet and you pull like you’ve never pulled.
This is your time. This is why you’ve been kept boxed tight for so long. The new wings, freed of their wrapping unfurl alone and you sit on the reed, exhausted, happy, dizzy as you dry.
Vaguely you become aware of others, spiralling about you, a dusty cloud of other May Flies – a dance of daring and death.
Seeing them draws from you a new strength, you let go and…
I’m flying, spinning and twisting. And I have one thing on my mind. The only thing that matters. The only reason I’m here. The only thing that I will have time for. No eating, no sleeping, no rocket science or choosing which socks to buy my dad for Christmas. My life is the envy of every living thing. It’s the reason I have two penises. Today is my day and my day will be full of
And then I’ll die. The French for orgasm is La Petite Mort. They know something, those Frenchies…
Nicholas C Rossis joined us for the first time this week, and gave a vivid tale of mating courtship and a humorous reminder that not all sex ends well!
“How about sex and dinner?” she asked, her throaty voice sending tingles to play on the fine hairs on his neck. She rubbed one fine, slender foot on her lengthy leg, to stress her point.
Her audacity caught his breath. They hardly knew each other, having met only a few minutes earlier. And yet here she was, her naked flesh provoking him into a frenzy. There was no mistaking the hunger in her eyes; the need for his body; her desire for his flesh.
He swallowed and tried to look away, to avoid her burning stare. She snickered at his discomfort as he lowered his eyes to examine his trembling fingers. Speak! Say something! His mouth obeyed the mental command and opened, but words failed him. His gaze caressed her nude body to linger once more on trim legs that seemed to go on forever. He bit his lip, his heart skipping a beat. She had him now; he would stop at nothing to slither between her mounds, to experience the ecstasy promised by her inviting, crooked smile; consequences be damned.
His determination slipped fast. With the last remnants of his strength, he made a final, desperate attempt to negotiate. To save himself. “Why not dinner first?” he croaked, a thick bead of sweat trickling down his forehead.
Her raspy laugh made his knees tremble. He leaned against a tree to stop himself from shaking. A delightful, mortified shiver travelled through his body and onto the wrinkled bark at her next words.
“Don’t be silly,” she said with a smirk. “Who’s ever heard of a praying mantis eating before sex?” She inched closer, her faceted, emerald eyes gazing softly at his smooth skin. He closed his eyes as her mouth brushed against his ear. Her hot breath tickled him, made his heart race. A long tongue slithered out of her lipless mouth to lick his slender neck. “That would ruin my appetite.”