Flash Fiction Friday: The inspiration crept in . . .

SO THESE ARE ENTRIES . . . Please feel free to vote by leaving comments, but only one vote per comment. (Comments with more than one will not be counted. Period.) If you can not leave a comment and you want to vote, email me at wtprater.jwasg@yahoo.com
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This week's theme/title was:  The inspiration crept in . . .

ENTRY 1

     Kelly sorted laundry as his mother continued her harangue. “You’re eighteen tomorrow, but you have chores around…especially the laundry. How you can dirty so many clothes is beyond me!”

      “I’m sorry, Mother. I was just like to look nice.”

     “Your clothes make you look weird…like those goths and queers you hang out with. I don’t want you turning out like them.”

      “I know I wouldn’t have these problems if you were a girl.”

     Kelly continued to sort and fold clothes. You want me to be a girl, he thought. You’ve got it. He put her sexiest panties in his pile.  -  Author Gary Smith

ENTRY 2

     “Hold out your arms.”

     A stream of light shot out, wrapping around Caitlyn’s wrists, and binding her to Hector. They faced each other, with the luminance interweaving across their skin similar to the rope used in a wedding ceremony.

     Hector squeezed her hands, sending a sense of reassurance. When she looked into his eyes, the unease evaporated. A quick, burning sensation laced the delicate flesh. She pushed through the pain, the inspiration crept in and she embraced the heat.

     As quickly as it started, the radiance dimmed. A tribal band remained etched, circling both wrists like a permanent henna tattoo. - Author Lousia Bacio

ENTRY 3

       Sawyer knew she shouldn't be here- every fiber in her being was screaming at her to run. "I have never been very good at following orders," she thought silently to herself as she looked at the archaic, wooden door. It was covered in intricate carvings: runes, gods and goddesses, long forgotten but never very far from earshot. Setting her jaw and gathering her courage, she brushed the door knob ever so slightly and she felt it hum under her fingertips.
     "Malachai, you are so lucky I love you, “Sawyer said, pulling open the door and stepping into a beautiful nightmare.  -  Author Kayla Jennings
　
ENTRY 4

      Kate stared out the kitchen window as Luis and Dex, her best friends from high school, repaired the barn paddock. She’s been in love with them both.

      Unable to choose between them she’d gone away to college, but her feelings hadn’t changed. She watched Luis douse Dex with a bucket of water. Dex advanced on Luis and she expected him to pummel Luis like he always had.

       Instead Dex backed Luis against the fence and kissed him hard. Heat coursed through her at the sight. She moaned softly when an image of being held between them flashed in her mind…  -  Author Shay MacLean

ENTRY 5 

    It looked like a fireman's pole. The opening was black, the bottom impossibly far down. It was one of the few access points to the lost undercity. The closed ancient ruins belched gases that made it
impossible to breathe a good man's air. He supposed he should tell his son to avoid the pole. Sevrin was always curious.
     He should have told him thirty seconds earlier, before the little blonde monkey slid down and left him staring at the pole. Parents tended to just forget. It wasn't until he was halfway down that he realized he was going after Sevrin.  - Author Gabriel Belthir

ENTRY 6                                                     

     He was perfect. Beautiful. Ethereal, like he had been carved from the tears of angels and made human.

     Unobtainable.

     He walked through the crowd, apart from it. He couldn’t blend in if he tried. The scruffy beard and shaggy hair did nothing to dim the light that seemed to shine through him. Jaws dropped. Conversations stopped.

      Inaccessible.

     He approached me. We talked late into the night. He suggested a nightcap. I invited him to my place, and he followed me home. I mixed him a drink, and he smiled. It took my breath away.

     I returned the favor.

     Preserved, forever.  -  Author Xara X Xanakas

ENTRY 7

      I keep him naked and blindfolded, spread-eagle on my bed, hands and feet cuffed to the four wooden posts.

      What should I do first? Oh, decisions, decisions. The possibilities are endless, and the anticipation is almost as delicious as the actual act.

      His silver nipple rings wink in the candlelight, catching my attention. My gaze trails from them down over his ridged stomach to the thatch of black at his crotch. His cock is hard already, eight inches of eagerness bobbing between his meaty thighs.

      As moonlight casts faux scars over his skin, the inspiration creeps in, and I smile.  -   Author Kiernan Kelly

ENTRY 8

      In a dream he comes to me. He whispers dark, sensual lyrics against my ear and his hot breath stirs a fire deep within my soul.

      His fingers caress my body, playing it like an instrument until my crescendo crashes in waves against him. He enters me then, his possession overtaking all of my senses. The night and everything in it belong to him.

     Once again, our bodies dance and our hearts sing. We make beautiful music out of passion and love.

     And then, without compassion, the dream ends.

     I awake to a cold emptiness. My Phantom is still gone.  -  Author Annette C. Macias

ENTRY 9
      
    Alex put the finishing touches on his sketch of Emily. His professor would love it. Alex didn’t. Quite the opposite, actually. There was nothing of him in it. Drawing it had been mechanical. Sterile. Blasé.

     Alex skulked toward his bedroom, glancing through Zed’s open door, and stopped in his tracks. Diffused light illuminated the bed’s occupant, asleep on his stomach, the sheet barely covering his ass.

     The interplay of light and dark, hard and soft, had Alex leaning against the door frame, opening his sketchbook. The charcoal swept down the paper, forming the graceful lines of a perfectly sculpted back.  -  Author Andy Slayde