I Want You

by Alison Tyler

I want heavy petting at the stop light. I want a blow job between the front door and the dining room. I want there to be just enough time for the old “in and out.” And for this Midsummer’s Day contest, I want you. That is, I want you to give me your best 100-word flashers. Like “Madrid” by our own lovely Nikki Magennis:

I wore my red shoes. Your hair was gloss black and tangled, melting into the night, leaving only a glitter of teeth.
You kissed me at dawn, took me to the house where you slept. A cousin’s, you said. ‘Seventh heaven’, you said.
There were no sheets on the mattress. We fought our clothes, came out naked, fell on the floor. The silver crucifix round your neck hit me in the face as we fucked – fast, urgent, silent. Your skin was gold and slippery.
Afterwards we waltzed through empty streets. The world was asleep, and we were dreaming in colour.

And “Flashers” by Stephen D. Rogers:

In the half-light of dusk, they had the park to themselves. They wore matching raincoats and nothing else.
She stepped from behind a tree and flashed him.
He flashed her from behind a trellis.
Their bare skin glowed in short bursts, like two fireflies dancing around each other until darkness fell and the two lovers finally met and joined on a bed of soft grass.
They took turns watching the stars blink to life.

Or Sommer Marsden's "And You":

And you are right there inside me, gripping my hips. Clamping down on the flesh as if your fingers might pass right through me. And you say, "Don't move, baby."
And I don't, except for the ways you move me.
Push me here, pull me there. Keep me full. Thrust and pump.
Use me as I'm meant to be used.
Your teeth on my neck. Just as you come. It‘s my signal to let go.
And I am light and heat, brimming with you.
Perfectly used.
Complete.

I chose these three because of how wildly different they are. Realistic, romantic, and raw. Look at the power of a paragraph, the seduction of a single sentence, the wonder of 100-words.

XXX,
Alison


I want you.
I want you so bad, babe.
I want you.
I want you so bad, it’s driving me mad.
It’s driving me mad.
—The Beatles

P.S. One lucky winner will receive Down & Dirty (volumes one and two) plus the thrill of seeing your words in print in FlashFucking, my new collection of ultra-short stories (pending approval of Cleis Press). Flashers don't need to be exactly 100 words—but they should not be more than 100 words, including title.