Still, in the end it was me insisted on the condom, while he pouted behind his transparent mask.
Friday Flash Fiction |
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He wouldn’t come back to my place, insisted on his own. More hygienic, he said. He had all the latest innovations; antibacterial, antifungal, antiviral… I had to soak my feet in disinfectant before I stepped on his plush carpet, thick as fur. His foreplay was practical: gloves on, clothes off, goggles on, scrub down. He told me not to worry about his new, matching, ‘his and hers’ gloves. Promised you could feel everything through them. Like a second skin, but cherry flavoured.
Still, in the end it was me insisted on the condom, while he pouted behind his transparent mask.
Sue Clayton
13/8/2020 02:04:35 am
Perhaps a condom that fit like a second skin and was fruity flavoured would have driven away his pout.Don't think he'd have been my type but your FFF definitely was.
Mary Wallace
15/8/2020 03:50:52 am
Leave quickly for your own protection. Well written Lisa.
Lisa Farrell
17/8/2020 12:55:55 pm
Thank you both! Comments are closed.
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"Classic"
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