avatarEmily (Little Miss Right Now)

Summary

A narrative of a passionate and luxurious encounter between two individuals that ends with a dark twist.

Abstract

The story recounts a chance meeting at a yacht club that leads to an evening of opulence and sensual indulgence. The protagonist and Joy enjoy a gourmet meal paired with fine wines, followed by an intense sexual encounter at the protagonist's cliff-top cottage. The evening's events culminate in Joy's murder, as the protagonist throws her over the balcony, takes back the money left for her, and discards her belongings to avoid additional charges.

Opinions

  • The protagonist views Joy as a temporary diversion, referring to her as a "bimbo" and expecting a short attention span.
  • The protagonist places significant value on material wealth and social status, demonstrated by the detailed description of the meal and wine choices.
  • The protagonist shows a lack of remorse and a calculating nature by planning to murder Joy for financial gain and to avoid inconvenience.
  • The author presents a critique of superficial relationships and the objectification of sexual partners, as well as the darker side of human nature.
  • The story suggests a theme of hedonism, with the protagonist focusing on immediate pleasure without regard for consequences or the value of human life.
Photo by ROSA GATTUSO from Pexels

MICRO MONDAY, FLASH FICTION

Enjoying the View

We met last evening, during the cocktail hour at the local yacht club

Joy complemented my view of this morning’s sunrise, naked except for her panties, standing on the balcony. She was enjoying the vista and was taking a breather from the pounding we gave each other last night. Myself, I’m lying in bed, trying to recuperate, as well.

We met last evening, during the cocktail hour at the local yacht club. The conversation was as interesting as she was beautiful. After a glass of wine, we discussed her rags to riches story in the art world, and I described my jet setting and my collection — not Louvre worthy, but definitely better than most galleries. I invited her for dinner and promised her the time of her life. Intrigued, she accepted.

A fine Wagu fillet, grilled medium-rare, so the marbling has had enough heat to melt into the tissues, paired with a cognac-shallot-shitake risotto and a few herbed and baked mini red potatoes, started the evening. I paired the entrée with a bottle of 2016 Château Pape Clément Pessac-Léognan — a decently robust red. Not the best in the cellar, but good enough for a random hookup.

A small salad of greens, with a raspberry balsamic dressing, was our second course, with a delightful yet forgettable Valpolicella selected by the sommelier.

For dessert, chocolate raspberries, flambeed in Armagnac and gilt in 24k gold, topped with crème fraîche, and paired with the last bottle of 1990 Dom.

Desert always has to be spectacular, because bimbos like her have a short attention span. After I show her the art collection at the cottage, I plan on banging her like a drum.

Following our wonderful meal, we retired to my cliff-top cottage, with a fantastic view of the bay, for cocktails and conversation. Leaving twenty crisp, new Ben Franklins on the dresser for her, we quickly moved from small talk to passion.

In the bedroom, we tear each other's clothes off and descend into a heap of passion in the middle of the bed. Kissing and licking and squeezing. She played with my titties, and I played with hers. I traced my tongue from her sweet lips, nibbling down to her juicy box, stopping along the way to savour her delights. After an hour of eating her pussy, and with her screaming for more, I brought out my strap-on, and we banged the rest of the night until near dawn. She told me she had never experienced a night such as this before, and lying, I told her the same. And we would be forever.

I walk up to her, give her a kiss on the neck, and toss her over the railing. Stopping to savour the waves lapping at her splayed body. I rummage through her purse, taking back my money, plus a bit more for my troubles, and throw her belongings over the railing to join her. I don’t want an unnecessary cleaning charge added to my Airbnb fee.

Emily (Little Miss Right Now) isn’t interested in later. Gotta live for the moment., for right now. Read her stories, cause it’s as close as you’re gettin’! The local preacher man used to call her a sinner, while he boned her hard, but when there’s no future, how can there be sin? You can follow her on Twitter @MicroEmily.

And if you want to subscribe to Medium, here’s a link where I get paid almost enough to buy a coffee.

Read another of her stories here.

Another Flash Tale by May More

Fiction
Short Story
LGBTQ
Microfiction
Twisted Tale
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