A Flying Fuck
by Mat Twassel
Copyright© 2021 by Mat Twassel
Flash Sex Story: Buddying photographer Paul wants to take some intimate photographs of his girlfriend Gemma and decides that on Sunday when the post office is closed the post office courtyard would provide the perfect location. What could go wrong? Illustrated.
Caution: This Flash Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa .
Right from the start, Gemma had her doubts, but her boyfriend Paul was so enthusiastic, and he was hard to resist when he got that way. “I know just where to do it, too,” Paul said. “The post office. That sort of courtyard with all the columns. It’ll be closed on Sunday so no one will be about. It’ll be perfect. And you can wear those red boots I got you for Valentine’s Day. They’ll be perfect.”
Gemma did like those red boots. “Is that the kicker?” she said, unable to keep from laughing.
Sunday was warm and sunny. “Perfect,” Paul said, beaming. “Didn’t I tell you?” And just as he’d promised, the post office courtyard was deserted. As planned, Gemma stripped down to her boots. Paul posed her against the granite wall. Against the marble columns. Standing. Sitting. Kneeling. “Perfect,” he said after each shot. “Pout for me, Gemma. Show me your discontent with civilization.” Gemma laughed. But then she pouted. “Perfect,” said Paul. “Perfect, perfect, perfect.” At last he was done.
“Fuck me now,” Gemma said.
Paul grinned. “That wouldn’t be professional,” he declared.
“Fuck me now. In my red boots. On the last days of civilization as we know it. Fuck me.”
Paul struggled out of his own boots. His pants and underpants and shirt. Two buttons popped and clattered and rolled. He paid no mind. His penis was fully erect, a lovely column of a cock. He stood behind her and lifted her as if she were weightless. Her red boots barely touched the marble floor. Then they didn’t. He lowered her just enough. His cock penetrated her cunt. She gasped at the pleasure of it. The pure perfection. A flying fuck!
They’d only been home a few minutes when Paul got an email from his grandmother with a picture attached.
Dear Paul
I’m all in a tither. I went to the post office this afternoon to mail the check for the tulips, forgetting that my cat a day calendar is three years out of date and it’s Sunday and the post office is closed. One of these days I’m going to have to get a new cat calendar but it seems like such a shame the cats have only one day and then nothing to look forward to for ever after. I know I’m being silly, but anyway, the post office was closed. But I didn’t realize it, and I went around to the side and to that inner place where they have all the pillars and there was this huge bird, it looked like. I didn’t have my right glasses, and what with my glaucoma, but I think it was a great horned owl (Bubo virginianus, if I remember from my science), and it was making such a fuss. Maybe it had caught a pussycat and was trying to pull the poor thing up into the air. I got the cell phone you gave me out of my purse and remembered how to take a picture and I think I got it. I was all atremble, Paul. It was such a ruckus. I hurried home. Do you think I should notify the authorities?
Love
Grandma
Paul wrote back:
Dear Grandma
You’re very brave. That was a great horned owl. They’re an endangered species, almost extinct. That could have been the last one. What you need to do is delete the picture and forget you ever saw it. Do not notify the authorities. You could get into big trouble for even taking a picture of it.
Love
Paul
PS I will get you a new cat-a-day calendar tomorrow.
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