The short story I'm writing at the moment is taking longer than I expected, the result of being a working, single parent, I guess. I could do with a holiday, which is exactly what the couple in my story are having - at a historic cottage sited over an ancient spring. What I didn't realise when I started writing was that I would need to try to imagine what sphagnum moss smells like and how to describe a hand-carved wooden dildo. It's hard work, you know. Here are two snippets to whet your appetite:
‘No reception,’ he said, glancing at his mobile. ‘And no TV,
I notice.’
‘That’s why I chose it,’ Maria said. ‘Remote. Secluded...’
‘No-one to hear you scream...’
‘Precisely.’
****
He
dipped the moss in the well and squeezed it over her, again and again. She
wriggled and moaned in frustration as the cool water tantalised her clit.
*****
I'll put the finished version on here soon, but for now you'll have to use your imagination. Feel free to speculate on how the story goes in the comments section!
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