Flash Fiction: Definitely NSFW

clean-reader1

This week, in honor of Clean Reader, Chuck Wendig decided to challenge us to create something “filthy.”  I’m not sure that I succeeded, but I’m less prudish than some, so who knows.  I wasn’t really interested in just making something filthy by using lots of swears though, so I switched things up and added an additional challenge for myself: I tried to write content that Clean Reader’s creators would find objectionable while using very few words that their program would know to “clean.”  The result is probably best described as erotica.  You have been warned.  Also, if you like NSFW cartoons, I mention the Rock Cocks and they are a semi-real thing that you can look up.  Enjoy!

Someone was knocking insistently at his door.  Bobby froze, his hand on his dick.  On screen, the writhing ménage à trois continued moving, their moans punctuated by sounds of slapping flesh and wet penetration.  The knocking got louder, more insistent.

“Bobby?”  It was his landlady, Mildred.  “Bobby, there’s someone here to see you Bobby.”  A brief pause, then the knocking turned to pounding.  “I know you’re in there Bobby, come on out.”

Fuck!”  Bobby hissed.  He was losing his hard on.  He’d thought he had more time.  He fumbled himself back into his pants, slapping the laptop closed.  The sounds carried on for a second more, then cut off.  Stumbling over to the door, he opened it just in time for his landlady’s pounding fist to catch him in the face.

“Shit!”  Bobby clapped a hand to his stinging nose.  Eyes watering, he looked out into the hall.  His landlady was apologizing profusely and introducing him to some woman in a nice suit.  Head still ringing, he missed her name.  The woman shook his hand just as he remembered where it had been.  He blushed, blessing his dark complexion and hoping that she’d attribute his awkwardness to having just been hit in the face.

“So, uh, what—,” Bobby mumbled his confusion.

“Sarah here is an investigator, Bobby.  She said she wanted to talk with you.”  Mildred smiled.  Bobby couldn’t tell whether she was being insincere or really just was a sweet old lady who thought she was helping him out.  “Why don’t you invite her in?  I’m sure she’d like that.”  Bobby couldn’t tell whether Mildred’s smile had changed.  For a few befuddled moments, he wondered whether or not she was trying to set him up with her.

“Well?”  Mildred’s smile was frozen in place, and Ms. Sarah-The-Investigator looked back and forth between the two of them awkwardly.

“Uh, yeah, um,” Bobby ran a hand over his tightly kinked hair, “come on in.”  Sarah strode into the apartment, Bobby closing the door behind her.  “Sorry about the—,” Bobby looked around, racking his brains as he looked for anything incriminating on display, “mess.”  He hurriedly pushed clothes off the little sofa, shifting a few textbooks and research papers.  He couldn’t see anything in view that would be too bad.  He waved Sarah to a seat on the couch before pulling up one of his two spindly chairs across from it and plopping down.

Sarah arranged herself fastidiously, straightening out her jacket.  She started to say something, but Bobby was distracted.  He’d forgotten that he had a Rock Cocks poster up on the wall behind the sofa, a piece from their latest concert showing them mid-act on the stage.  He cleared his throat nervously and looked back down at Sarah.

“—and I was wondering whether you’d be willing to offer your assistance.”  She finished, looking at him expectantly.

Bobby blinked, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes.  He just couldn’t get himself to focus.  He knew that he didn’t look that impressive; his rumpled yellow t-shirt needed a wash and, he crossed his legs as he remembered, this set of sweatpants really needed a patch on the crotch.

“I’m sorry,” he heard himself saying, “could you repeat that?”

“You were recommended by an acquaintance of mine, and you frequently go to a club that I need to get into.  And I was wondering whether you’d be willing to offer your assistance.”  Sarah looked at him, quirking an eyebrow.  “With my investigation.”

Bobby looked at her for a few moments.  “Huh?”  He saw her take a deep breath, appreciating the effect it had underneath her suit, and interrupted her to clarify.  “Sorry, I mean, I just got hit in the face, and I kind of missed your name and why you’re here, and I don’t know why you want my help with… with a club?”  He sighed a little on the inside.  He was not making a good impression.  Was this just going to end with her cuffing him or something?  That totally wasn’t how he’d wanted this to go.

Sarah tried again.  “I’m a private investigator, Sarah Longsdale, and I need access to the club Inferno.  I know that you go there fairly frequently.  You,” she paused briefly, glancing him up and down, not sure what to think of what she saw, “were recommended to me.  Are you willing to help me?”

Bobby narrowed his eyes.  “Inferno is pretty exclusive.”

Sarah nodded.  “And I’m willing to make it worth your while, too.”

“You do know that Inferno is, uh,” Bobby glanced up at the poster behind Sarah, “a sex club, right?”  When she nodded again, he continued, “I’m just saying, showing up there looking like that is, um,” he looked at her again.  “Actually, never mind, there are totally some people there who would go for that.”  He shifted his legs awkwardly.  As a matter of fact, he’d go for that too.

Sarah continued to look at him, deadpan.

“Oh, right.  Yeah, I’ll get you into Inferno.”  Bobby felt like a bumbling teenager.  “When were you wanting to go?”

“How about,” Sarah glanced at her phone, “right now?”

Bobby felt his face heat up again.  “Right.  Right, uh, let me go get dressed.”  He stood quickly, moving through his kitchenette deeper into his apartment.  “And take a shower,” he muttered to himself.

***

He cleaned up as quickly as he could, and came out in a three piece ensemble he’d assembled for himself over the course of several months.  Something to match Sarah’s class, if a bit different from the leather that he usually preferred for Inferno.

The bouncer smiled and nodded to him, buzzing them in past the bar’s lounge that doubled as an antechamber of sorts.  The stairs down were broad and open to the club’s main floor; another bar lay to their left, while a series of couches, cushions, and chaise-lounges were scattered across the central area to create eddying pools of conversation and congress.  Semi-private rooms lined the right wall, with a hall that led further in to other, more specialized rooms.  Languid and sensual lounge music drifted from hidden speakers, never quite loud enough to make speaking difficult, but enough to give a quiet conversation privacy.

Bobby was extremely aware of Sarah’s hand on his left arm as they descended into the club.  He could feel her fingertips through the fabric of his shirt and jacket, his skin thrilling to their touch.  “So,” he said as they came to the bottom of the stairs, “I’ve gotten you in.”  Aside from her touch, he felt cool and calm, far more comfortable here than he ever did at ‘home.’  He quirked an eyebrow, “We never did discuss how exactly you were going to make this worth my while.”

Sarah glanced at him, looking around the room as she stepped in a little closer to him.  She set one foot on the step behind him, grazing him with her inner thigh as she moved in close.  She whispered into his ear, “No, we didn’t, but I have a few ideas.”

“Oh do you now?”  Bobby let his hand slip around her waist, sliding down to the swell of her hip.  “Please, share.”

Sarah chuckled.  “Well, I wasn’t thinking of sharing, but we could do that if you like.”

“No, I’ve only just met you.  We can save sharing for later.”  Bobby leaned in to speak in Sarah’s ear.  “You see the open room behind me?  The one with the blinds pulled all the way up and the freshly made bed?”  He could feel Sarah nod.  “Let’s go there.”

Bobby turned and let Sarah lead the way across the floor, wending their way past the various parties that had settled in on the couches.  There were small knots of people conversing, and several tangles of limbs as people publicly pleasured each other.  The concierge nodded and smiled to him from behind her desk, handing him a set of keys for the freshly made up room.  And then they were inside, and Sarah’s lips were on his.

Her kisses were hot and slow, like she was savoring the taste.  Her hands came up to caress the back of his head, feel the muscles of his neck, and his hands swept down her back to grab hold of her behind, kneading and pulling lightly at her cheeks through her suit pants.  She exhaled heavily, a quiet “hunh” of pleasure, and then one of her hands was trailing down the front of his suit, finding its way to his crotch.  She cupped him, feeling him harden, and she smiled.

“Heh.”  She chuckled as their lips met again.  “You like that, don’t you?”

“Oh god yes, yes I do,” Bobby moaned into her lips, sliding one of his hands around front to return the favor as he found her cleft.  She gasped.  He laughed, “And I like that too.”

“Two can play that game.”  She squeezed lightly, feeling the shape of him through his trousers.  “You know, we should really get that suit off of you.”  Her fingers deftly started undoing his many buttons.

“Oh, is it time for you to investigate something?”  Bobby smiled, showing teeth.  He leaned in once more, nipping lightly at Sarah’s ear.

“Ah.  Mm.  Yes.”  Sarah lost coherence briefly as his fingers clutched and circled.  “Investigation time.”  She pulled his jacket down off his shoulders, and his vest away as well.  She left his shirt on, hanging open to show his dark skin beneath the pale fabric, and she trailed her tongue down his chest to his belly, flicking her tongue there as she tugged open his pants and planted kisses across the bulging fabric of his boxers.  She smiled up at him for a moment, then grazed across his hardness with her teeth.

Bobby hissed in pleasure, barely managing to set his jacket on a hook by the door.  “Oh, please Sarah, keep going.”

She gave a throaty laugh, teasing him with her fingers, trailing fingertips down between his legs, then back up again.  She reached for the bowl of condoms and tore one open with her teeth.

“Wait, are you going to—,” Bobby froze as she put it on him using her mouth.  He shuddered.  “Girl, we have got to get you out of that suit.”  Sarah stood, obligingly.  Her hand continued to stroke him, and she smiled as he tried to undress her while she made him squirm in pleasure.

“Jesus!  Just, just let me—,” Bobby managed to undo the buttons of her jacket, then he gave up.  “Fine.”  He spun her around and unzipped her pants, pulling them down to her knees as he bent her forward over the bed.  He pulled her thong aside while he reached for a bottle of lube, squirting some onto his hand and rubbing himself until he was slick.  His fingers searched her folds, finding her wet as he stroked her.

“Mmm, yeah.”  Sarah hummed her pleasure.  Bobby slowly pressed up against her, teasing her much as she’d teased him.

“You want that?”

“Oh god yes, please.”

That was all the answer Bobby needed.  He entered her in one long slow stroke, his fingers finding her clit once more as he shifted his arm.  He rested there for a moment, circling his fingertips as Sarah groaned.  He pulled out most of the way, only to slide back in once more, building a slowly increasing rhythm.  Soon their skin was slapping together, the sound echoing in the room.  People on the main floor watched appreciatively.

“Oh, oh!”  Sarah began to shudder as Bobby moved his fingers faster, slamming into her.  They both came quickly and collapsed in a gasping heap on the bed.

Lying together side by side, Bobby smiled at Sarah.

“You know Sarah, you’re the best escort I’ve ever met.  That investigator bit was perfect.  I’m so glad I called you.”

Sarah winked.  “You’re not so bad yourself, Bobby.”  She kissed him.  “Again?”

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