MICRO MONDAY, CHRISTMAS EROTICA, FLASH FICTION
Red Gloves
Christmas 1973. The three day week is just around the corner and one of our favourite songs is born.
We sat in our Christmas finery.
She’d switched off the car engine to save fuel. It was freezing outside. Chapel hat pegs some would call it.
‘You’re not saying much tonight John.’
‘I don’t feel right. This being our last time and all.’
‘It doesn’t have to be.’
‘I know, but you’re Mrs Askew now and Mr Askew’s my boss.’
‘Never bothered you before.’
‘Well, that was different. You were just Linda then.’
I stared out into the dark. Small pin pricks of light miles away. Manchester. I felt her gloved hand on my thigh. It moved down to my groin and gently squeezed my cock.
‘You feel all right to me.’ She undid my flies. ‘You wouldn’t want to miss out on this would you?’
Soon her red lipstick was all over my cock. She loved holding the shaft tightly and then slowly bringing her hand up to feel the knob expand as I came in her mouth. Tonight was no different. Some drops of come ended up on her red leather gloves, which she then proceeded to lick clean. The way I’d seen her savour the sweet and tasty bones of a chicken in the basket.
She turned the ignition on. The engine caught at the second attempt.
‘Look it’s starting to snow.’
‘Will Mr Askew be getting treated tonight as well?’
‘You’re my favourite. You know that. Don’t sulk. I want you all smiles tonight. And If I catch you with that Sandra again there’ll be hell to pay.’
She laughed and switched the radio on as we drove off down the road to the Askew Light Engineering Christmas do.
‘Now quiet. I like this one.’ She turned the volume up and sang along.
But I wasn’t saying a thing.
The song had only been out a few days and she already knew all the words.
‘Well I wish it could be Christmas every day…..’
Another tale from Cousin Pons…
And one by Marsha Adams
