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Click hereHe was out like a Man. Completely oblivious, totally unaware of her feelings, pains or designs. She felt guilty, but it was a necessary guilt. She parked the car at the station, and slipped out quietly toward the ticket window. There was no real line save a small fatigued woman arguing with the ticket-issuing agent. She looked familiar. Sarah! She realized suddenly. The girl who Shawn had dropped. She was stranded, and desperate and... and... wearingly angry. Molly was strangely angry about it too.
"Excuse me?" She tapped the woman on the arm. She was wearing a darling little shirt. But it was oh so quite ripped. She felt quite protective, dreading Shawn was again responsible. "Excuse me, dear?"
"Yes?" Sarah responded meekly. She was tired, the poor woman.
"Are you stuck here?" Molly asked.
"Yes. Twenty. Four. Hours." Each word was a breath.
"Well, dear, I feel partially responsible--"
Sarah interrupted, "Oh no, I was boy stupid--"
Molly interrupted back. "Shawn stupid, yes I know. He told me. I'm his mother."
Sarah blanched. Molly continued, it all had just formed in her head as she said it, like a new novel: "But as his mother, I don't agree with his stupidity. And would like to offer you our guest room while you arrange other plans. Shawn is passed out in the car, he has no idea. And you might have some unfinished business with him, huh?".
She couldn't stay alone at a house with her son right now. It was too much 500lb gorilla in the room, too much hot incest because she had been weak. She needed a buffer. Either more time away or another woman with intent to bridge the road back to normalcy. She smiled. Warmly.
"So whatcha say?"
Sarah stood there shocked, then smiled impishly in evidence of swiftly turning gears in her head. "Thank you so much! Yes. I really need place. And Yes! I would love to have some time with your son to express a few things he could do better in the future."
They walked back to the car together.
And shared something. More than just one thing, Molly thought sheepishly. This time however, it was a laugh.
- COMMENTS
Anonymousalmost 12 years agoAlways appreciate an original approach to a genre which generally oozes cliche.
William smythabout 12 years agoIncedble sex scene on the train and the promise of much more to come.
Good writing. Good story line. Good honest pornography.
Saucebladeabout 12 years agoAuthorListen, to each their own.. Read what you enjoy. This is my style, so I write it. I didn't come on this site to write like someone else or to satisfy people who don't like my writing.
I am proud of the story. The characters, the situation, the mother's resolve to take care of her son and her horror at how much she enjoys doing so. I have been cooking professionally my entire life. And we burn the fuck outta ourselves. And if you ever look at a professional Cook's forearms, yea it's riddiculous. Snowboard is being kind, my arms look like an Ice capade.
When it's all said and done, this is me. It's how I am, it's who I am. And if you hate it/me, that's fair brother. I am just gonna write, you don't have to read.
All the best,
Anonymousabout 12 years agoSums it up.
Skimming is great. It has a purpose. That purpose is to seek the words that'll make you cum, not to read a tale.
Read.
I've read it, so will translate... The trees bit? The main man is sitting on a train, not playing with his laptop or listening to his iPod; he is staring idly through the window, where the trees have become one with the noise of the train, and the whole thing? Well, it's the train-travel joy... you switch off.
The surf-board burns? As is apparent from the first few paragraphs, Shawn is a cook. Cooks burns their forearms. I cook sometimes, just like family meals and stuff, so even I get these burns. His burns? They tell you something of his life.
I don't see pretention. The ability to write figuratively is NOT pretentious. Fear of 'letting go' perhaps, and appearing pretentious is what holds people back and maintains the cliched style of writing so often seen on a site where, let's be honest, just about anyone can get published.
Skim to cum. Read to think. Just a thought.
