Photo credit to Jill Wisoff
Love You Long Time, Big Time
By T. Delaplain
Camille teased the Marlboro to the corner of her mouth as a puff curled up her nose. She leaned over, in practiced seduction, straightening the seam in her fishnets and displaying her generous booty.
“Must be the rain, men ain’t horny when it rains.”
“They aren’t hungry either.”
“Hey, hotdog man, you got a twenty? I got nothing but time.”
“Keep that lipstick on your own dawg, girl. Why you gotta be like that?”
“Hungry, I guess. Love you long time, big time,” she offered.
“I gotcha. You want onions?”
“Might as well, ain’t no biz. Thanks, man.”
You got an idea to sell? Flash us a Friday Fictioneers’ corner and make your case in 100 words or less.