NaMaMo: Day 27

( DawnMarie Pazienza)


Girls with Guns. Yum.

Today’s optional prompt: Do power-wielding bad-asses do it for you? Girls with guns? Boys with Berettas? Hotties with hand grenades? Or is that just too much power and reality for your fantasy life?



About Shanna Germain

Writer. Editor. Game Designer. Leximaven. Geek.
This entry was posted in Dailies, NaMaMo. Bookmark the permalink.

5 Responses to NaMaMo: Day 27

  1. Mat Twassel says:

    I do definitely get off on a take charge kind of a girl.

    Silly Sally

    Sally thought cigarettes were vile. She also thought boys were vile. Their smirks and snickers. Their smelly sweat. Their rough, greasy, fumbling fingers and rude, raw ramrods. Not that she’d ever seen a rude, raw ramrod in person, but feeling Tommy Burns’s poker beneath his pants was more than enough, more than enough forever, thanks. And not that she’d ever smoked. Boys smoked. Stupid boys always trying to crush you with their slurpy kisses.

    Sally had a crush on Cynthiana Givens, who was a year ahead, a junior, but in Sally’s creative writing class. Cynthiana sat in front of her, and her hair was like golden sunlight and her voice was like spring rain and her body was like poetry—at least that’s the way Sally imagined her, and that’s what she wrote in her poetry notebook. Sally spent most of one period trying to come up with the perfect rhyme for rain, something even better than golden mane. She knew deep down there was no rhyme for poetry.

    Sally knew as well that Cynthiana didn’t know Sally even existed. So she was more than a little surprised when Cynthiana invited her over for a sleepover. “I hope you can come,” Cynthiana had said, handing over the pretty envelope with birds and bees fluttering over dainty flowers. It was impossible to look in Cynthiana’s eyes. It was impossible not to. “Oh, yes, I can come,” Sally blurted.

    Sally hadn’t been to a sleepover since junior high. What did high school kids wear? Nighties? Pajamas? What did they bring besides a toothbrush? In her little bag Sally put both—her sheerest, shortest nightie, and her comfy flannel PJs. She rang the bell right on time.

    But apparently she was early. No one else was there. “It’s just us, silly,” Cynthiana said, after having led Sally up to her bedroom. “Silly Sally, silly Sally, say that six times.” Cynthiana’s eyes were agleam. She held her hands lightly on Sally’s shoulders. “Go on, say it. Don’t shilly-shally,” Cynthiana said, her fingers now beginning to unbutton Sally’s blouse. Sally managed three Silly Sallies before falling silent, her blouse completely unbuttoned, her best bra with the rosebud button exposed. Cynthiana unsnapped it. The bra fell free. Sally felt the air of Cynthiana’s breath on the tingling tips of her little breasts. “Don’t stop,” Cynthiana whispered. “More Silly Sallies.” Cynthiana parted her lips and moved her mouth over Sally’s nipple but didn’t touch. Her fingers went to the button of Sally’s jeans. Then the zipper. “Silly Sally, silly Sally, silly Sally,” Sally said as rapidly as she could, stopping only when Cynthiana bit down. Then zipper was down. Then pants were down. A few seconds later Sally was bare but for her pale blue panties.

    “Mind if I smoke?” Cynthiana asked. Sally didn’t say anything, she just stood there, while Cynthiana extracted a cigarette from the pack on a shelf, struck a match, lit up.

    Cynthiana held the cigarette in one hand. Her other hand traced the hem of Sally’s panties. “You know what I love about you?” Cynthiana asked. Her fingers moved beneath the hem of the panties. “The place where your thigh becomes ass,” she said, caressing the flesh. The minutes passed. The cigarette smoldered. Sally watched the smoke rise and drift and dissipate while Cynthiana’s fingers continued their play.

    “You know what else I love about you?” she asked. Sally stood still. Cynthiana’s hand smoothed its way down the front of Sally’s panties. Her palm covered Sally’s mound. Her middle finger found the furrow. Paused. “The place where your pussy becomes cunt,” she said, pushing. Sally drew a sharp breath. Cynthiana’s finger curled inside. She sucked on the cigarette. The tip glowed red. Sally squeezed her fists. Her sex contracted. She couldn’t help it. Cynthiana pressed her mouth to Sally’s. Cynthiana’s tongue and smoke filled her mouth as her fingers filled her sex. Sally coughed as she came.

    “Oh, sure,” Sally said to herself. She closed her poetry notebook. “As if someone could cough and come at the same time. Silly, silly Sally.”

    It was time to take matters into her own hands.

  2. Allegra says:

    ahh…this reminds me of La Femme Nikita. Such a hot film. (The french original, ixnay on the US remake!) guns are repellent, Unless they are wielded as sort of an accessory by a hot woman….dunno why. Shanna, you rock for keeping this going. I would have responded more this month but my hands were occupied ; )

  3. Girls packing an Ak-47? or firing off an 9mm? Whetherin camos or lingerie, no it really doesn’t do anything to raise the pulse raten or anything else. Just like with cars or motorcycles, adding girls with, or adding things with girls isn’t an extra turn on. I’d rather simply see the girls and when I wanted to look at guns, I’d buy a magazine or go to a gun show.

  4. Pingback: In a questionaire today that addressed ‘Do girls with guns turn me on’ in my fantasy life… « Onlyhalfalifeaway's Blog

  5. add alittle more detail how I feel about ‘extras’ for gals..I touched on this in yesterdays post on my blog if anyone cares to read. The shortlink is:

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