Doc Sherwood
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Avion Symphony, Chapter Six
It was an August night that resonated magic. If they didn’t make them like that anymore, at least 4-H-N remembered them. For her they were bound up with friends and fun, evenings at the takeaway when you could eat as much as you pleased, and of course, songs playing on the video-walls such as this very one. Villanelle was in her human guise, and Chester was still a boy. Each held in both hands one end of the map, as side-by-side they studied it together.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Avion Symphony, Chapter One
It wasn’t the first time 4-H-N had paid a call on Kitty. In fact, it was getting to be a habit. For this, 4-H-N earnestly believed her nightie was responsible. The short pink one with the shoulder-straps, in which no girl could reasonably expect her knickers or armpits to stay secret long, and which for all these reasons closely resembled 4-H-N’s old Avion Girls Task Force costume. That was clearly triggering all the right psychological cues, because when 4-H-N wore it her weary head barely touched the pillow before she was there. Back in Kitty’s small college bedroom with its book-lined shelves and a bunk to save on floorspace, plus a wash-basin and mirror tucked away in one corner, the window open on a night-time campus of Spanish colonial architecture and a darkened strip of Californian beach.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Night on a Bare Conurbation, Chapter Three
The Interplanetary Broadcasting Service was promptly on the scene. Roving reporter Blonghé Bliggs impressed upon everyone the vital importance of getting this story out there, and rushed Mini-Flash Meteor through minimal make-up while smoothly allaying any concerns that might have been raised as to the condition of her clothes. Blonghé Bliggs knew ratings when he saw them, and that was as good a word as any for what he glimpsed through that gaping tunic-rent. He himself may have been a bright blue orb which supported itself on several stringy feelers, but he didn’t get where he was today by not paying heed to the peculiar tastes of bipedal vertebrates.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Night on a Bare Conurbation, Chapter One
He was back. Reporters and earnest helpful Mini-Flashes ushering traumatised Grindoes from the ruinous subterranean restaurant heard wail after gibber after lament on the steely sound of shears, and sniggers that were like snips. Though their assailant had struck unseen, intelligent life across the quadrant wasn’t in the dark.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
On the Way to School
I hurried along to the bus stop, where Jessica was waiting for me. In her usual manner on hot days she was standing absent-mindedly with both forearms shoved under her short school skirt and petticoat, holding them both up and leaving her legs uncovered to the upper thighs. Her dark-coloured stocking-tops and garter-belt could be seen by everyone. I squirmed, like I always did at this sight.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Ophelia, part three
I must have nearly fallen asleep, the heat winning out over my discomfort, because my mind rambled to something that had happened earlier that day which I’d already mentioned to Jessica. The stuffiness and smell of the boys’ changing room this morning had somehow made me hot and bothered even before the PE lesson, so it was no wonder I felt doubly so after it. But it was only in PE that we got to undo our too-tight uniforms and feel at least a tiny bit like real boys, if you ignored the fact that winning against the girls was out of the question. Getting to go bare-legged in T-shirts we could be a bit plucky and defiant, even tease each other a bit, or at least the more daring boys in our class tried to. I myself wasn’t much use, and I sure wasn’t ready for that yet anyway. I’d left my white underpants on for the lesson because I knew how sweaty they’d get in the game, and brought a clean pair for afterwards into which I’d been changing when it happened.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Ophelia, part two
There was no mistaking it. Even from this distance, the familiar perfume with which the stocking was impregnated reached me over the heavy scent of garden flowers, teasing my nostrils far more than they did and setting me all a-tingle. Of course, the smell wasn’t the only reason for that! My mind was whirling out of control and my heart had started to pound, at the unimaginable thought that even now Jessica might be undressing just a few feet away from me!
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
Ophelia, part one
Jessica and I were sitting down together in a quiet corner of the playing field at lunchtime, she without her shoes on as she fiddled and fidgeted away both with her stockings and her hairpins. The latter she was just taking out and pushing it back in again, while with her other hand she lazily undid and refastened her garter-belt, seemingly for no purpose. Jessica was just the worst fidget, which was irritating. I could smell her perfume too, and that was irritating in a different way.
By Doc Sherwood4 years ago in Fiction
