By Annabeth Leong
They were definitely not her panties. Sarah stood beside the bed dumbly, dangling them off her pinkie finger, staring as if she might remember when she bought them if she just thought hard enough.
But they weren’t hers, and she knew it. Sarah owned practical panties, the kind that wicked moisture away from her crotch efficiently when she worked out. These were lacy, embellished things, sexy specifically because of their impracticality. The pale blue scrap of material was little more than a ribbon, really, but it summoned images of hips and inner thighs. Not Sarah’s hard, muscled body. The panties conjured a softer woman, one who smelled floral, not sweaty.
Christ knew, she hadn’t been with a woman in forever, which meant Todd must have.
Sarah waited, but no anger came. After a moment, she realized she was rubbing the panties between her thumb and first finger. They felt nice. She wondered how they smelled.
She felt like a perv lifting them to her face, but she did it anyway. She took a deep breath, remembering college, her roommate, the things they did but never talked about. Metaphors of salt and ocean had never made sense to her. Woman smelled like woman. No other scent came close.
The panties had at some point been very wet. Sarah wondered what Todd would tell her if she asked him about them.
She knew she wouldn’t. It was time for her own secrets, and she wouldn’t be so careless as to leave olfactory evidence. Her body thrilled with anticipation, not only at the thought of the place between a woman’s thighs, but also at the idea of the careful application of lotions to cover incriminating scents. She tucked the panties back where she had found them, and smiled to herself when she imagined how Todd would jump when he saw what they could reveal, and how he would feel safe, and how he would be wrong.
Welcome back from moving hell, Annabeth!ReplyDelete
I really like this, but I found the last couple of sentences puzzling.
This sentence really grabbed me: "She took a deep breath, remembering college, her roommate, the things they did but never talked about." So close to home, when considering my first woman lover.
Hi Lisabet! Thanks, and I’m glad you like the story! I think you’re right about the last couple of sentences. I had an idea forming about where this was going, but this could definitely use an edit. Maybe someday!Delete
I thought the last sentence was perfect, although "could have revealed" might work just a bit better. He thinks he had a close call but got away with it after all.Delete
Gooses and ganders! you've done a great job on this. :>)ReplyDelete
Welcome back, Annabeth.
Aw thanks! :)Delete
I don't read flash fiction that much, because most of the time it doesn't tell me anything or take me anywhere, consequently I never try to write it. This one is different. As Lisabet said, it is a little hard to follow, but its short enough to make it easy to reread. And when you re-read it you find that it's rich with ideas in a very short space. It's pretty amazing.ReplyDelete
She reveals the erotic power of scent, which is more associated with women than men. Women seem to use their senses more richly, in fiction at least. But there is that double message in the panties. She has discovered them and may drop them like a little bomb on Todd. But it begs the question, open for more story exploration, as to why a man in a relationship would be so sloppy with evidence of unfaithfulness and not cover his tracks? Someone is sending a message, who? Unless they're drunk,I don't imagine women leave their underwear laying around unless a man has begged for them. And then what goes through a woman's mind when she leaves him evidence of his conquest? Or is it evidence (maybe to his legit lover) of HER conquest?
Thanks, Garce! I really appreciate the thoughtful commentary.Delete
I think there’s indeed a lot in here, and more questions are raised than the size of the story can quite contain. For our purposes here, I think it’s an intriguing snippet, but it could probably use expansion and exploration.
I don’t know if you ever feel this way while writing, but right as I was finishing it, I started to feel like the character was taking on a life of her own. That usually means more could happen...