Car Park, 1 hour - 500 words Options

[Camy]

I was whining in my blog - I do that a lot - and got this as a comment:

* Give yourself one hour to write a 500 word story inspired by how you feel. No preparation...go!

Well, I didn't do it then, however, I did have the idea, then. It's not exactly how I feel, but it's how I would feel if I were married and knew a Jace. Hmm, maybe.

So: 1 hour and 500 words. I don't need to say it's unedited, do I?

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Car Park by Camy

We were bickering over the price of pastrami as we left the supermarket, Sean in front, running with the trolley: lifting his legs for a free ride when it was going fast enough.

"Wrong row!" Celia called to him as we approached the one where we'd parked. Sean rolled his eyes, as only a ten year old can. I took a deep breath as he nearly ran into a slow moving SUV.

"Sean! knock it off!" I called, putting enough annoyance in my tone to make him realise I wasn't kidding.

"Aw, Dad!" he called back, then clipped the curb, and tipped the trolley and its contents over.

"I'll go," Celia said, patting my arm, "you go and ... oh, who's that standing by the car?"

I looked, saw him, and felt my world crumble around the edges as blood flooded into my cheeks.

"No idea," I said in as mild a tone as I could manage. "Perhaps he's waiting for someone."

"Mum! Dad!" Sean called. Celia patted me on the arm again.

"Open up, and I'll sort out wonder boy."

"Okay," I said, and with more hesitation than I liked, walked over to the car. He was leaning nonchalantly on the roof.

“Well, this is nice, David.” He said, a slight hint of bitter campness evident.

“What do you want, Jace?” I said, checking to see that Celia was still involved with Sean’s trolley wreck as I open the sliding door.

“You, silly” he said, reaching over and grabbing my crotch. I hissed, air flooding my lungs at his temerity.

“Fuck right off, Jace!” I was pleased his grin vanished, not so pleased at the expression that swiftly took it’s place. He squeezed once, his fingers wrapping around my hardening cock, then he let go and took a step back.

“Okay, big guy.” I will ‘fuck right off’,” he pouted. “But only after I’ve fucked right on …!” He licked his lips lasciviously, “if you get my drift, David.” He paused, and I glared at him, the adage ‘if looks could kill’ wailing around and around my head. “Hmm, tonight, I think, David. At nine … in the usual place.”

“Usual!?” I stuttered, “Usual!? Why you little ….”

“Your wife and son approacheth,” he smirked. “So …?”

“Alright! but ….”

“David, who is this, and what’s ‘alright’?” Celia said, almost in my ear. I blinked, felt my mouth open and shut like a landed fish, knew panic was evident in my eyes as I watched Jace turn to Celia and smile.

“My fault,” he said in a mellifluous voice, his campness gone. “I thought your car belonged to a business associate of mine who I haven’t seen in an age.”

“Oh, dear,” Celia said, passing Sean the grocery bags. “Sorry to disappoint.”

“Well, that’s life I suppose,” Jace said, brushing by me, his hand briefly caressing my cock. “It’s hard, but I’m sure I’ll see him soon enough.”

“Yes, no doubt you will.” I said, sighing. “No doubt you will.”

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