School Work, Sexy Nutella Stories, Post Secrets

The prompt was this:

Review the PostSecret site. Choose one of the "secrets" as a staring point for your own flash fiction. Write a short short story of no more than 750 words. Make sure to create a title.

My choice was this:My story came out like this:

The A-line Skirt

She walked into my room at 8:22 in the morning. The light, at that moment was filtering through my windows already and I needed to be up 20 minutes ago. Before she came in, I could smell toast burning in the kitchen. As she entered, so did the smell of coffee.

I closed my eyes, but I could feel her walk up to the bed, the hem of her skirt rubbed against my arm as she set the coffee on the table next to me and walked out, her heels click clicking on the floor as she made her exit. I sat up in bed, took the cup to my lips, and burned my tongue.

I followed her scent to the kitchen. She was wearing her black patent heels. They had a tendency to make her ankles look small but today, without tights on, they just made her legs look long, her calves look lean. Her skirt started at her knees and hugged her thighs and stomach all the way to her waistline. Her white shirt was half buttoned, and half tucked in. She had her hair in a bun, and was wearing red lipstick. I watched as she carefully took a bite of her Nutella toast, being cautious not to smear the rouge on her lips. The smell of the hazelnut hit my nose just as she scooped a dollop with her slender finger out of the jar. She didn’t blink, she stared into my eyes as I stared at her take the chocolate to her mouth, wrap her lips around the chocolate and exhale.

I forgot why I was in the kitchen. I wasn’t hungry anymore. She knew I shouldn’t be looking at her like that, be she knew I wouldn’t stop. She knew that once she left, I would go back to my room, and sit on my bed with a partner-less sock. She knew I would be closing my eyes and thinking of her, and that hazelnut spread. She knew that I would moan softly at the thought of her mouth around her finger, that I would masturbate to the memory of that smell. She knew I would feel guilty, later that night, when we sat around the table for dinner, and I would have to watch her fawn over my dad, when I would watch her go into his room, when I would wonder how soon it would be, until I had to call her ‘mom’.