a grey October morning, a FISH story by @NinaBellini

Reposted from here.

He stripped me. Kissed the clothes straight off me after his sweet talk in the cafe. Please don’t judge me.

We came to mine, to bed.

I know. It’s only 10am. Ok. Judge away.

But honest to fuck he’s doing something to me. I’m not sure what. But he’s doing something to me between my legs that I can actually feel in my molars.

He’s using his fingers.

Deep. Up inside.

Curled and moving like he’s trying to fish the last olive out of a jar. And Jesus Mother of God something’s happening. I do watch then, focus on my glistening slit, half expecting him to reveal a briny Kalamata.

He watches too, with an amused curl of lip. He knows what he’s doing, is enjoying my helplessness as I surrender hooked on the end of his fingers.

I break the silence with a series of shakily chanted ‘fucks’ then see myself drip slowly down his fingers and into his palm.

Less than 500 words, prompted by FISH for #whimword on Twitter.

thanks for reading xxx


by @NinaBellini