I entered Flash 500 a while back; my first ever writing competition. I was very excited. However, I logged on today to find out that I hadn’t been short-listed for it. I was upset, but it is my first competition entry so I am taking it with a pinch of salt and moving on.
I thought it would be beneficial for me to put my submitted entry up here for you all to read. I would appreciate your feedback.
Calling the Shots
I’m standing at the usual meeting place and I still don’t quite know why I’m here.
I should learn; but I never do.
I see him approach me, weaving in between all the men and woman who are going about their evening routines, totally unaware of what we are about to do. He reaches me and, with nothing more than a nod and a curl of his lip, he grabs my hand and manoeuvres me back towards his office.
I can smell the crispness of the printing machines and the stacks of paper. It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve been here, it still invades my nose whenever I enter. The wine is taking hold now and I feel all fuzzy from head to toe. Why am I here?
And then he spins me round and pulls me close, brushing his nose with mine as he leans in for a kiss. His lips are soft and hot, and he teases mine apart, playfully slipping in his tongue as he does. I reach up and grab his hair, unable to control my urges and swinging my legs around his waist as he sits me, roughly, onto his desk. I can feel him pushing himself onto me, showing me he is ready for me. My breathing is fast and my heart rate even faster. I want him, now!
As I pull at his shirt, frantically prizing open the buttons and yanking it off his shoulders, he puts his fingers through my hair and caresses the back of my neck. It feels so good and I’m tempted to moan out, but I remember that we must be quiet. It takes everything I have to keep quiet, but I do.
But, what was that? I wasn’t sure I heard it at first, but then he snapped his head away from my chest and froze. The footsteps were getting closer and then they stopped outside the door. Suddenly the handle is being frantically worked; the person on the other side obviously suspicious to see the alarm switched off at this time of night.
We continue to stay locked in our embrace, not daring to move. The adrenaline has hit me hard and I feel a mix of terror and sheer excitement, knowing we could be caught at any time. I can feel the heat of his breath on my face as I glance around at our clothes, strewn across the floor.
Finally, the footsteps retreat and fade away. We know we haven’t got long, what if they come back with security; who do have a key. I begin to wonder if I should stop. Why do I keep doing this to myself, letting him call the shots and ring me whenever he feels the need? I hate being walked over, being at his beck and call. I’m going to stand up to him, I am! This isn’t going to happen again.
But then he looks at me and smiles – I can’t ever resist that smile…