The gauntlet was thrown down so what else could I do but accept? Anne Ferrer Odom http://www.flashinganne.com/asiberianvacation/ has challenged me to participate in The 24 Hour Wooden Spoon Challenge. The rules? Write a 2k word story in 24 hours including the following parameters:
cooler of Gatorade
Please be gentle, I’m a newbie 😉 so with no further ado, here ya go!
“It was a dark and snowy night, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse, blah-blah crap.”
I deliberately mashed-up whatever words popped into my head as I wiped down the bar for the final time. I was thinking of closing early tonight.
It was another bust, a waste of time and money opening the bar during a snowstorm when the house band cancelled. Hell, even the hardcore regulars didn’t want to come out in this weather. I didn’t blame them but somehow, I was sure of it, James would blame me.
His bar, his rules, and he asked me to keep an eye on it while he was out of town.
“Just a day or two,” I grumbled to myself. “Liam in trouble and James runs. Every. Damn. Time.”
All he wanted me to do was make sure the bar opened and closed on time. Nothing more, nothing less.
Yet here I was pouting like a kid, alone in a cold, empty bar washing down already clean bar-tops. Even the bartenders and the cook called out. Hence me here alone in a howling snowstorm.
I was doing nothing more than making myself cranky and it wasn’t even midnight yet.
Screw this, I thought to myself, we’re closed. Executive decision.
I locked up, shut most of the lights out, looked at the clock and immediately felt guilty.
James would think I was insane for even opening the bar but I gave him my word and my stubbornness wouldn’t let me go back on it, valid reason or not.
And it had absolutely nothing to do with the way his jeans fit perfectly in just the right places.
Or the way his voice made me shiver in places I didn’t even know I had.
Or the way he twisted his one eyebrow when he saw through my feigned disinterest.
I thought I turned the heat down because it couldn’t be my train of thought heating me up.
“Ok,” I said to no-one,”I’ll stay until midnight but I’m keeping the doors locked and….”
I looked around the bar, eyes spying the pool table, deciding to play pool until midnight, leave my car here and walk the few blocks home. I’d even pony up the quarters so I wouldn’t feel so guilty about the shots of Jameson I was about to pour myself.
“In for a penny, in for a pound,” I muttered as I turned on the jukebox and programmed an eclectic selection, starting with some good old fashioned punk music to match my mood and stop my moping.
After throwing three shots in succession down my throat I began to feel a little warmer, wishing I hadn’t worn my favorite blue cashmere sweater. Sure it made my eyes sparkle but right now it was making me sweat.
I walked over to the rack and chose a pool cue, the Jameson doing it’s job as I felt warmth rush through my body. A Nick Cave song came on and I swayed my hips to the beat, slithering to the pool table, racking the balls, ready to channel every bit of stress through that wooden stick. I wasn’t messing around, I was determined to get every damn ball in a pocket without scratching.
I did pretty good the first game, didn’t scratch once. And since that was the only rule I gave myself, I expected my winning streak to continue.
Another few rounds and I began to get bored, but I still had one more ball left on the table.
“Damn it’s hot in here,” I said out loud as I threw back another shot.
I really wasn’t drunk, just comfortably numb and careless. Or was that carefree?
Oh who cared? Whatever it was had me thanking my lucky stars I’d worn a camisole under my sweater because I ripped that sweater right over my head when “Hey Big Spender” came blaring out of the sound system, making sure to swing it around as I swiveled my hips before throwing it over my shoulder, grabbing the pool stick like it was a stripper pole.
I ran my hands up and down it before leaning over the pool table, wiggling for the hell of it and damn if I didn’t scratch.
“Oh no you don’t!” I yelled as I slid across the table, ass in the air as my hand grabbed the cue ball right before it sank into the corner pocket.
“You little cheater,” growled a very familiar voice.
Here and now watching me make an ass of myself. And, kinda cheating.
My ass! In the air!
I hopped off the pool table and nearly fell, especially when I noticed my cherished sweater was now covering part of his head. Shit, how long was he standing there?
I was so fired. And I didn’t even work here.
“James! What are you doing here? I mean I know it’s your bar but aren’t you out of town with your brother and it’s snowing and the bands cancelled and is it hot in here and not one customer came in tonight, can you believe that, but I’m here anyway because you know me, when I give my word you can count on me and everyone called out because of the weather and…cheater?”
I knew I was babbling and should really just shut my mouth but I also knew that wasn’t going to happen because, “cheater??? Did you just call me a cheater???”
He didn’t say anything, just walked closer to where I was leaning against the pool table.
It was kinda hard to read the expression on his face, what with my sweater covering part of it but I swear I could see his lips trying not to twitch.
“Give me that!” I pulled it off his head, figuring I’d try the old turn everything around on him trick.
“First of all,” I began, “don’t sneak up on me like that! I could have killed you by mistake!”
Now I could see his face.
Yeah, he was definitely trying not to laugh so I let that fuel my anger some more.
No way I was going to let him know how embarrassed I was.
Oh man, I was starting to get a headache. Why didn’t I just stick to my usual Gatorade instead of Jameson?
“And I DON’T cheat! I won every game fair and square Mister.” I poked him in the chest for emphasis and immediately had a hard time swallowing when I felt what he’s been hiding underneath his clothes. Why were we avoiding getting involved with each other? At that moment I couldn’t think of one good reason.
He stared me in the eye for what seemed like forever and my mouth was dry. Just my mouth.
“Wanna play?” He drew out those two words like a lovers kiss, his arms on either side of me, pinning me against the pool table.
James and I had been doing this dance for a long time. A very long time.
Life always got in the way.
But right now, in this bubble of time, the two of us locked in here while a blizzard raged outside, I couldn’t think of a single reason why we still never got around to scratching the itch we both had for each other.
“Pool?” I squeaked.
His hands grabbed my hips so quickly I didn’t realize it until I was sitting on the pool table, my legs open and James standing right in the middle of them, pushing me back a little further.
“We’re long past pool pet,” his one hand came up and tangled in my hair, forcing me to look at him. He pulled back just enough to hop up next to me on the pool table, pulling me closer to him, his mouth a breath away from mine. His eyes were dark with the same desire I was sure reflected in mine.
I could fight it as much as I wanted, try to lie to his face and convince him he had no power over me, but my eyes always gave me away.
“We’ve talked about this sweetheart,” his voice alone made me throb. “You know I don’t take this lightly. If you want to play, we play by my rules, and you know what that means.”
His hand was still in my hair, his mouth so close I could practically taste the mixture of nicotine and cinnamon from the gum he’d chewed.
My tongue darted out as I licked my lips, he had to feel the way my body trembled as I whispered two words.
“Do you really?” he asked before catching my lower lip with his teeth.
My tongue slipped into his mouth, desperate to taste him as his hands lowered to my hips, sliding me off the pool table, maneuvering me between his legs. His hands were the only thing keeping me from melting into a puddle right where I stood.
He tasted like manna from Heaven and I was starving.
“You know you’ve got to pay for those shots you’ve been helping yourself to.” I groaned as he pulled his mouth away from mine.
“I-” He didn’t let me finish, instead he flipped me down over his lap, his big hands running over my ass like it belonged to him. I could feel how hard he was through two pairs of denim and tried to finagle my way to the zipper of his jeans when he grabbed my small hands with one of his.
“Wait.” He said.
“Why?” I whined in reply, wiggling against him aching to relieve some of the throbbing threatening to explode any second.
“Because I said so.” And with that a sharp sting vibrated through my body as he smacked my ass.
James just did what no-one else had ever managed to do, he shut me up.
And it felt good.
“Did I just hear the sound of you not talking Lizzie?”
I tried to speak, I swear I did, but all I could do was moan.
“Now by my count, because I’ve been here a lot longer than you noticed, I believe you had four shots. Is that right Lizzie?”
How in the world did he expect me to speak when he had me ass-up over his lap, more turned on then I’d ever thought possible?
“Mmmm-hmmm,” was the best I could do.
James let out a laugh at my inability to talk. It was a running joke between us that I could never stop babbling.
“Oh this is precious,” he said, “I should have done this a long time ago. You really do have a perfect ass ripe for a good spanking, but that’ll have to wait, for now, it’s payback time.”
“Gah…” Nope, still couldn’t speak.
“The question is,” he slowly ran his hand over my ass in ever-widening circles, stopping just short of the part of my body that throbbed the most.
“Do I drag this out slowly?”
I nearly flew off his lap when his hand came down again, harder this time. I was soaked through my panties.
“Or should I get it over with fast?”
Another whack to my ass and I groaned loudly. He was torturing me in the very best of ways.
“How many was that Lizzie?”
“Uh, two?” I lied.
“You know you just earned another one missy.”
I waited for another smack but nothing. The anticipation was driving me crazy. I didn’t even realize he’d let go of my hands until, head hanging down, I saw a pool stick in his hand as he smashed his foot against it, breaking it in half. I couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped my mouth.
“You know Lizzie, it’s a shame we’re not closer to the kitchen, a wooden spoon would do wonders but,” he ran the broken pool stick over my burning cheeks. “We’ll have to improvise this time.”
How was it possible to get any wetter than I already was?
Three more swats, this time with the pool stick and I exploded, long and hard, my entire body on fire, shaking and shuddering.
He threw the pool stick across the room and pulled me up, undressed us both in record time till we were both on the pool table, me on top as he sank me down, filling me completely, a satisfied grin on his face as he watched me come as many times as he smacked my ass.
And then, finally, he let himself go, growling my name as we both went over the edge together.
I had a feeling I was going to need a cooler of Gatorade if I was going to keep up with James.
Authors Note: Lizzie and James are two characters I’ve been playing with for awhile. For purposes of this story, the fact that they are vampires doesn’t matter 😀 If you want to read more about their ever-evolving relationship, feel free to go there———–>
Also, I will be challenging someone else and adding the information here. Be back soon because I have to post this within the next 34 minutes else I be banished to the corner.
Which I probably will anyway because I forgot to tag Ana
ETA: I have challenged Ana to write 2k words in 24 hours, must haves: a wooden spoon, a pearl necklace and an empty bottle of Chanel No. 5. Go!
In no particular order, the following are pictures I took on my vacation in Point Pleasant Beach New Jersey. I can’t seem to pick just one photo, so here’s a random sample. There will be more to follow, with more words attached.
I am woman hear me roar.
Not that it does me any good to roar, I am still always cast in the role of Cinderella.
You remember her: “Cinderella, Cinderella, all I hear is Cinderella, from the moment that I get up, there isn’t any let up”*
Yeah, that’s me.
From the moment that my feet hit the floor I know what I’m in for: a big fat mess waiting for somebody to clean it up.
Would you like to play a game and guess who that somebody is? You get three guesses and the first two don’t count so that leaves me.
See, I don’t have a job. You know, a real job that requires me to leave this house and do something that results in a paycheck.
Nope, no paycheck for me because housework doesn’t count when you have two children and five animals to clean up after. Oh wait, they’re not children, they are adults, the hubs and his older sister.
And guess what? They are worse than an overcrowded kindergarten class.
“I’ll clean this up later” is a favorite, it turns into a Mexican standoff (hey, that’s a real phrase, if you’re looking for politically correct you’re in the wrong place) as to who can hold out longer, the slobs or me. And as usual, I fold first because I can’t abide living in filth and disarray.
Just take a look around, see what I mean?
For those of you without x-ray vision allow me to describe my immediate surroundings:
Chinese takeout for dinner last night (which by the way, I didn’t eat one bite because I was upstairs writing) is still sitting on the counter, smack dab in front of my tea kettle. Half empty beer bottles and overflowing ashtrays are mixed amongst the left-out-all-night Chinese leftovers and we are now on bowl number five full of those little packets of duck sauce and all that stuff they fill the bags with. Allow me to add that they are never, and I mean never used.
There are empty cans of dog food sitting on the counter and may I add that the sink is full of dirty dishes? I guess it’s too much work to take that one step to the dishwasher and put them in, I mean after all, less than 12 inches away from the sink is much too strenuous for the average lazy person.
I’m going to Hell, aren’t I?
Ok so in the midst of writing my little tantrum, I had to stop and go to ShopRite to buy food because as usual, there’s another blizzard on the way and I had to make sure I had enough tea.
I lied, I did get tea but I also got an order for the week so it was a decent amount of time that I was gone.
Thinking I’d come back to at the very least, a cleaned off countertop, I was sadly disappointed and had to clean the counters so I could empty the bags so I could put the food away then pull out the makings for homemade lasagna (I’m a sucker and a chump)which also required me to run and unload the dishwasher in order to have room to- oh forget it, you get the idea.
I am Cinderella and Rapunzel with a dash of Snow White thrown in.
There’s also some Buffy The Vampire Slayer mixed in there but she only comes out when I’m sticking up for anyone who isn’t me. I’m beginning to realize that is about to change.
So yeah, I can roar with the best of them, and believe me, not only am I woman, but I am a hell of a woman; I just need to remind myself of that fact a little more often.
And maybe throw either A. a tantrum or B. everything that isn’t cleaned up either in the garbage, or in the person responsible for the mess’s bed.
Or possibly both.
Or I can go with my usual, What Would Buffy Do?
*Cinderella song from the Disney version.
As anyone who knows me knows, I’m obsessed with Cape May and all it encompasses, most specifically the old World War II Fire Tower down by Sunset Beach. The Tower is the setting for one of my WIP’s, an apocalyptic story about a girl who is living out the end of the world at the end of New Jersey, where she has settled into the Tower and made it her home.
The prompt for this Photo Challenge is Unusual Angles, so here are some photos I took of the staircase smack dab in the middle of the Tower. Please enjoy.
AUTHORS NOTE: Random unexpected photos I’ve snapped over the past year…please enjoy, and Mom, I still miss you everyday
Unexpected Seagull at Lobster House Cape May
Unexpected Snow in March 2013 Cape May Washington Mall
Whatever it was disappeared into the ocean. Was it a UFO I saw? Having seen UFO’s twice before in my life, the first time as I was driving over a bridge late at night, as the road was empty, I and three other people saw a USO/UFO as it rose out of the water without a sound, the red lights surrounding the disk shaped object caused the water to look like dripping flames… it’s hard for me to believe that in this huge universe, we are the only ones here. Do UFO’s exist? I can only speak of what I witnessed with my own eyes, and if ever there was an eerie sight, possible UFO’s, at least for me, fall under the heading of ‘eerie’.
So although I do play well with others, sometimes rules evade me, which is another way of saying I don’t know if this picture is ok to post for this lovely blog http://sundaystills.wordpress.com/about/ I stumbled across, but “Shades Of Blue” http://sundaystills.wordpress.com/2013/08/18/the-next-challenge-shades-of-blue/ made me think of this picture I took of myself, one is just the original picture, the other one is me playing with a new app on my phone.
And how could I not share a lovely song by a lovely lady, “Am I Blue”, as sung by the one and only Billie Holiday?