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Desdmona's Erotic Story Contests
2005 Shivering Short Story Contest
Honorable Mention


Laurie flipped her long hair out of the way. Clay’s watching my boobs, she thought. The car’s windows may be steamed, but the cold makes my nipples big. Her hand stroked faster. It’s almost one AM. I wish he’d—

He arched, “Hot damn,” and the wish came true. This time she aimed his cock in a safe direction, so it spurted across his chest. She kept pumping, the way he liked, but while Clay gasped for air Laurie used her other hand to pull her bra cups back up and her sweater down. She twisted in the cramped back seat to reach her panties.

He relaxed. “I know, Babe. Got to get you home. Can’t piss off your parents when you’re gonna hit ’em about Vegas.”

Laurie sighed. “It won’t make any difference.”

He grinned. “We don’t have to go all that way.”

“I said no,” she snapped. “Not in your bedroom, with your mother down the hall. And no way in your car. I want it to be special.”

He shrugged. “Course, Babe.”

When Laurie eased in the front door the grandfather clock had already struck the hour. She checked out the brass minute hand. My little brothers are asleep. Maybe I can sneak... But her mother walked into the foyer. “Geez,” Laurie said. “Seven minutes. Don’t pounce on me!”

Pamela sighed. “I didn’t. We just turned off the TV to go to bed.”

“Oh.” Laurie glanced suspiciously past her. The TV was indeed off and Andrew was turning out lights. “Sorry.” She faked a smile and started upstairs.

Pamela said, “But since you mentioned it, you are late. Did Clay—”

Laurie whirled. “Don’t blame Clay. He’s very responsible. He has a college degree and a full-time job.”

Pamela’s voice tightened. “As well he should.”

“Because he’s older you mean. I’m glad he’s more mature than the boys at high school.”

Pamela sighed again. “I still wish you were dating one of them. Not someone almost thirty, who might—”

“Take advantage of me? He doesn’t.” Laurie glared at her mother. “Not like it’s your ... ” She cut the sentence off.

“Laurel McKenna!” Pamela snapped. “Don’t tell me it’s not my business.”

“Never mind,” Laurie snapped back. She turned her back and marched up the stairs Go ahead, she thought. Call me back. Tonight I’ve got the perfect answer. But Pamela gritted her teeth and let her daughter go.

An hour later Laurie sat at her dressing table brushing her hair. “Seventy-nine. These flannel pajamas are perfect for October. Eighty. But they’re not even romantic. Eighty-one. There’s my silk nightgown. Eighty-two. But my initials are embroidered on it. Eighty-three. I couldn’t bear Clay asking. Eighty-four. Mom and Daddy’re going to freak.” She hesitated. “Do I want them to stop me?” She shook her head. “Not! I’m ready. Eighty-fi—”

There was a knock on her door. “What?” she snapped.

“We need to talk,” her father called.

“I’m brushing my hair. I don’t want to lose count.” Laurie winced. That’s so lame.

“We’ll wait.”

Laurie sighed. “Come in.” Pamela and Andrew entered.

Andrew sat in the old rocking chair next to the dormer window and patted his knee. “Geez,” Laurie said. “Not even. Whatever you want to discuss, I’m too old to sit in Daddy’s lap.”

“Cool,” Andrew said. “Your mom isn’t.” Pamela put the old tin box she was carrying on Laurie’s dressing table, then settled on Andrew’s thighs.

Laurie glanced at the box, then watched her mother smooth her fingers through her father’s dark, thinning hair. How embarrassing, she thought. Why do my parents have to be lovey all the time? They’re like newlyweds. After being married eighteen years you’d think they could walk down the street without holding hands. Particularly when I’m with them.

Pamela looked up. Before she could start Laurie jumped in with, “I have something to discuss too. Besides, I know why you’re pissed. Clay, right? Geez. Seven minutes and it’s a federal case.”

Before Pamela could snap back Andrew said, “Not even. Your mother thinks it’s time you knew the whole story of how you got here. I agree.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.” Laurie rolled her eyes. “It’s only been a McKenna and Roberts family joke since before I was born. If you hadn’t named me what you did, people would have forgotten I’m a mistake.”

Pamela scolded, “You’re not a mistake. You were a gift. We named you after your great grandmother.”

“Yeah.” Laurie rolled her eyes again. “I had four great grandmas. Did you have to pick Chastity Roberts to donate my middle name?”

“Yes.” Pamela’s voice tightened.

Andrew hugged his wife. “Which is what we’re here to talk about.” Pamela sighed, settling in his arms.

Geez, Laurie thought. He’s going to start “Once upon a time.”

Sure enough Andrew said, “Once upon a time there were two college students who were very much in love. Although Andy was older than Pam he’d served a hitch in the Marines, so they were both seniors. They got engaged and decided to split Christmas between Amarillo, where Pam’s family lived, and Chicago, where Andy grew up. They spent Christmas Eve in Texas and planned to fly to Illinois Christmas Day. But the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglay.”

Even jammed with travelers the DFW terminal was chilly. Pam and Andy huddled in down jackets. Andy grinned. “Probably not this cold at O’Hare.”

Pam shivered. “It shouldn’t be much longer.”

The voice over the loudspeaker called, “Andrew McKenna, please report to the ticket counter.”

“Uh oh,” Pam said. “That can’t be good.” They eased through the crowd surrounding the desk.

The harried agent asked, “Mr. McKenna?” Then she glanced at Pam.

“That’s me. This is Pam Roberts. We’re engaged.” Andy said it with pride.

“Roberts.” The agent checked her manifest. “Okay. We have a situation. The flight’s full. You both have seats. However, there’s a young sergeant travelling on compassionate leave. His wife is ill and he needs to get to Chicago. Maybe I can find someone travelling alone.”

“Marine Corps,” Andy said.

The agent shrugged. “I think he’s in the Army.”

“No.” Andy stood straighter. “I served in the Marine Corps.” He glanced at Pam, and she nodded. Andy continued, “Your sergeant gets a seat.” He turned back to Pam. “Look, you choose. You can fly now and I’ll follow. Or if you don’t want to meet my parents alone I’ll go on ahead. The airline will spring for a hotel, and I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned to the desk.

“No.” Pam’s voice was flat.

Andy looked back at her. “But—”

She shook her head. “You’re right about the soldier. My daddy’s a veteran too. But we stay together.”

He sighed. “Pam, it’s just one night. There’s no reason for both of us to spend a holiday in an airport hotel.”

She grabbed Andy’s jacket. “You. Will. Not. Fly. Alone. We both go, or we both stay.”

“Uh.” He’d seen that look in her eyes before. “Okay.” He turned to the counter. “We’re both bumped. We’ll need two beds.”

The agent sighed. “Everything’s full. I’ll do what I can.”

Pam asked, “When’s the next plane to Chicago?”

The agent glanced down. “Ten tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Pam said. “What about sending us back home?”

Andy’s eyebrows climbed. “But ... ” Pam nudged him. He shrugged. To the agent he said, “The Roberts’ ranch is an hour north. Her folks dropped us off, so we don’t have a car. Would it be easier to find a room or to arrange transportation?”

The agent smiled. “Will taxi vouchers work?”

Andy grinned. “Semper fi.”

Two hours later the cab pulled up to the ranch house. The driver eyed it dubiously. “Place looks deserted.”

“I have a key,” Pam said. The driver shrugged and they got out of the cab.

Andy hauled carry-on bags onto the porch while Pam unlocked the door. He smiled. “Your family scatters quick. Everyone opened gifts last night, then left this morning. We have the house to ourselves.”

In the foyer Pam blew a stream of white breath. “Unfortunately everything’s winterized. It’s colder inside than outside. The electricity’s on, but the house is heated by propane from the tank out back. It’ll never get warm.”

“Your folks have camping stuff.” Andy glanced into the living room. “We could set up by the fireplace. There’s plenty of wood. Love will keep us warm.”

Pam kissed him. “But with separate sleeping bags.”

“Of course,” Andy said. “When you said ‘Yes’ we promised each other we’d put off going all the way to make the wedding night special. I still agree.” Then he grinned. “Of course by nine-thirty when my parents pick up our suitcases they’ll figure we’re—”

“Shut up, oaf.” She smoothed her fingers through his short, dark hair. “Go do something useful. Turn the water on, but don’t bother with the propane. The water heater wouldn’t get hot before we went to sleep anyway. I’ll start a fire.”

By the time Andy finished outside and brought in another armload of logs, a cheery blaze filled the stone fireplace. Quilts and two sleeping bags were spread before it. A kettle simmered on a hotplate. Andy sniffed. “Ahh. Beef stew.”

Pam shrugged. “From a can.” She spooned it into bowls.

Andy settled on the couch. “There was a rabbit out by the woodpile, but I didn’t think you’d want to start from scratch.”

Pam rolled her eyes and set the bowls on TV trays. They dug in.

At precisely nine-thirty Andy moved his TV tray aside and leaned toward her. Pam eyed him suspiciously. “What?”

“Nine-thirty,” he said. “My folks are picking up our luggage.” He ran his fingers through her dark curls and drew her into a kiss.

She pulled back and moved her tray. “With my parents and grandparents, and my brothers and their wives and kids here—so far this holiday’s been as private as our seats at a football game.” She kissed him back, then stood.

Pam kicked off her moccasins and stepped onto the pallet. “Even in love, if we’re going to get naked it’s a good thing we have a roaring fire.” She pulled her sweatshirt over her head and shook out her hair. “And a better thing we don’t have to share it.” She shed her flannel shirt, revealing a plain white bra. “You aren’t carrying a condom, are you?” She skinned out of her jeans. Her cotton pants were pale blue.

“Uh.” Andy dragged his gaze up to meet hers. “Nope. I quit doing that when we quit using them, the night we got engaged.”

“Good,” she said. “Come here.”

In the four steps it took him to reach her, Andy stripped to his shorts. “Oh, Pam,” he murmured. “I do love you.” He kissed her. She met his caress with her own passion.

He drew her hard against his chest, trying to keep his erection from prodding her. She would have none of that. Spreading her hands across his buttocks she drew him intimately close.

He groaned and fumbled her bra strap. She giggled. “Oaf.” She turned around in his arms and unfastened the front hook.

“Shucks,” he muttered and slid his hands beneath the cups. She sighed, and her head fell back on his shoulder. He whispered, “Pam by firelight. You’re gorgeous.”

“You’re good with your hands,” she whispered back. “My knees are getting weak. Either hold me up or lay me down.”

Andy eased her to the pallet and settled beside her. He took a bare nipple between his lips. His hand found its way down across her fluttering stomach.

She whispered, “Yes. Touch me there.” He slid his fingers under the elastic of her pants and through the curls beneath. She said, “Oh yes.” He caressed her open, then diddled the button inside. She cried, “Oh. Yes.” and arched beneath him. “Yes! There!” He slid his longest finger inside. Her fire clenched around it.

She fell gasping back to the pallet. Her voice was husky. “You are so good with your hands.”

While her breathing eased he watched firelight flicker across her flushed breasts. “Mmm,” she finally said. “You’re prodding me.” She rolled him on his back. “Your turn, lover.” She pushed the waistband down and took him in hand. She looked deep into his eyes, and stroked. “Show me what you’ve got.”

“Oh Pam,” he groaned and spurted over his chest and belly.

She kissed him. “Was that adequate?”


“Was that adequate?”

“Oh, God.”

Pam plucked tissues from a box by the side of the pallet. “I’ll take that as ‘yes.’ You made quite a mess.” She blotted up his spend.

He chuckled.

She frowned. “What?”

“I look at you and my brain freezes. How come you’re practical enough to have tissues handy?”

She grinned. “Gram told me that Nature designed a woman’s body to stupefy men, so the species will continue. Therefore God made women practical so they can control when.” She pulled his briefs up.

He sighed. “I suppose it’s time to get in our sleeping bags and go to sleep. Almost together.”


In the rocking chair Andrew finished the R-rated version of the story and gave Pamela a hug. “So that night Andy and Pam slept, almost together.”

“Oh right.” Laurie rolled her eyes. “I may be a virgin, but I’m not naïve. The story of my conception? Not!” She caught Pamela’s fleeting smile. Geez, she thought. I’m trying to be sophisticated. I can’t believe I let the V-word slip.

Andrew shrugged. “That isn’t the end of the story. The rest is your mother’s to tell.” Pamela nodded and began.

The next morning Pam gazed into the resurrected fire. I should get dressed, she thought. More than a robe and my underwear. She heard Andy stir and resisted the urge to turn and watch him pull on his clothes. The last thing I want to see this morning is the scar on his thigh.

From behind he circled her in his arms. “We better get started.”

She shook her head. “I called. Our flight’s delayed until one so I postponed the cab.” She stepped away. “There was ice at O’Hare, but the plane you would have been on landed safely. No one was hurt, this time.”

His brows knit. “This time?”

Pam took his hand. “I need to tell you a story.” She led him upstairs to her chilly bedroom.

He sat in the rocking chair. She smiled. “My grandmother Chastity left me that rocker. This used to be her room.” The smile evaporated. “When I was eighteen she was in her seventies and getting frail. She knew it was time for a nursing home, so she was giving things away. One day I helped her clean out a closet. On the top shelf I found an old tin box, made in the shape of a pirate’s chest. I said, ‘Look, a treasure.’ Gram smiled and said, ‘Well, so it is.’ When I carried it to her, Gram took a brass key on a silver chain from her jewelry box.”

Pam looked out into another time. “The treasure in the box was the memory of Lawrence, Gram’s first true love. In my naivete, I was shocked. ‘What about Grandpa?’ I demanded. Gram hushed me and said, ‘It was long before I wed Ben Roberts. I was working in San Antonio; Lawrence was stationed at Fort Sam Houston. We met before he shipped out for the police action in Korea. We wrote each other for the months he was over there and fell in love. After he was wounded they brought him back to Fort Sam. When he proposed I said yes.’”

Pam shook her head. “I was scandalized. Gram was amused. Then she got serious. She told me Lawrence was from Boston, and after he was discharged he asked her to fly up there and meet his family.”

Pam turned back toward Andy, tears in her eyes. “Lawrence caught a flight the day Gram started her last week of work. She was to join him. But there was ice in Boston. His plane skidded off the end of the runway and burned. Lawrence saved several lives and was hailed as a hero, posthumously.”

“Jesus,” Andy said. “And yesterday? You thought ... ”

“Yeah.” Pam pushed away from the window and walked to the rocking chair. “I couldn’t take the chance.” She reached down and opened Andy’s fly. “Gram and Lawrence never had time to ... ” She pulled down his jeans.


She freed his cock. “It’s not for us.”

“Uh. I don’t have—”

She silenced him with a kiss as she reached under her robe and pulled aside her pants. “It’s not for us,” she repeated, settling astride his thighs and pulling him inside.

“Ah,” he sighed. She ground herself against his groin. He slid his hands beneath her robe and thrust his cock deep.

She burned around him, gasping, “For Lawrence and Chastity.” Then she held on through his eruption.

When their breathing eased Andy said, “There’s a tin pirate chest on your dresser at college.”

Pam nodded. “When she finished the story Gram said, ‘Lawrence’s love was a treasure I’ve kept all these years. Now it’s yours to remember.’ I asked if I should keep it secret. She told me I’d know who needed to hear it.”

Andy shifted beneath her. Pam asked, “What?”

He shivered. “My backside’s freezing.”

“Oh, dearest.” She stood and watched him pull his jeans up over the scar. “I know what cold does to your wound.”

“Love kept me warm.”

Pam sighed. “Yeah.” She looked down at herself. “Thank you for ignoring me and turning the propane on so we have hot water this morning.”

“Shucks. I knew you’d want to shower.” Then he grinned. “I didn’t know you’d need it so much.”

“Oaf.” She ran her fingers through his hair.

Pamela stood and looked at Laurie. “Your father and I married as planned, June tenth. Our wedding night was special. You were born right on schedule, September eighteenth. A precious gift.”

Laurie looked at the tin box on her dressing table. “I’m not just named after Great-gram, am I?”

Andrew stood. “The names Lawrence and Laurel are derived from the laurel wreath, awarded to champions and heroes.”

Pamela drew a brass key on a silver chain from the pocket of her robe. She passed it to her daughter. Laurie said, “And it’s still a secret?”

Pamela smiled. “Lawrence’s love was a treasure I’ve kept all these years. Now it’s yours to remember. You’ll know who needs to hear the story.”

Andrew hesitated. “Laurie had something to talk about.”

“Never mind,” Laurie said. “It got answered.”

As her parents walked down the hall Laurie heard her father say, “Guess what I was thinking about while you were finishing up the story.”

“Oaf,” her mother replied. “I was sitting in your lap. I know what you’re thinking with.” As their bedroom door closed, Laurie heard her mother giggle.

Geez. She looked at her great-grandmother’s rocking chair and blushed.

Turning back to her dressing table she unlocked the box. On top was a faded black-and-white photograph of a valiant soldier with a pretty girl on his arm. “Great-gram,” Laurie said to herself. “I look a lot like her.” Next was a brittle newspaper clipping headlined “Soldier dies saving children.” Then there was a bundle of letters, and under them half-a-dozen medals with faded ribbons. She touched one. “A Purple Heart. Daddy has one, too.” In the bottom of the box was an unused plane ticket, San Antonio to Boston. “Oh, Gram,” Laurie sighed.

Then something against the side of the box fell down. She pulled faded paper into the light: airline ticket stubs, dated December 26, Amarillo to Chicago. Two of them, paper-clipped together. Laurie’s cellphone chirped.

She flipped it open. “Clay?”

“Yeah, Babe. I’m on the Internet ready to confirm. Three days, two nights in Vegas. Bright lights, hot shows, slot machines, and me. Pop it to your parents yet?”

“No. I changed my mind.”

Clay’s voice sharpened. “Remember what I said?”

“Yes. We’ve been dating a month. You’re tired of going home with blue balls. If I’m not ready to give up the whole enchilada maybe it’s time for you to move on. That cover it?”

“Yeah. Well?” His voice was frosty.

She looked at the photo; imagined Clay understanding the story. Never happen. She said, “I’m not ready.”

“Cock-tease,” he snarled. “You’re history.”

Even in flannel pajamas Laurie shivered. “Love keeps you warm,” she whispered into the dead phone. Carefully she put tickets, medals, letters, clipping, and photo back in the treasure chest and locked it. By the time she secured the key in her jewelry box, the chill had dissipated.

Then Laurie looked at her reflection. Gold highlights gleamed in the newly-brushed hair falling across her breasts, warm beneath soft flannel. “History,” she whispered. “I really am.” Proudly she declared, “My name is Laurel Chastity McKenna.”

Having successfully raised fiercely independent daughters, Sean MacReady and his long-suffering wife live in an empty nest in Texas. Sean is a professional writer with awards for Web site content, journalism, technical writing, and fiction. A lot of the credit for the quality of his writing goes to the also long-suffering members of his writing group. He has published fantasy short stories, completed several stage plays, and written two politically incorrect novels. Ruthie’s Club has seen fit to publish a couple of dozen of his stories at One of his longer stories, “Stormy Wedding,” is for sale at eXtacy eBooks ( where his novel Romance in Scarlet is nearing publication. No wonder he writes about strong women.

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To: Sean MacReady

Desdmona's Erotic Story Contests
2005 Shivering Short Story Contest
Honorable Mention