Hump Day Kick Start – Don’t Edition

Hump Day Kick Start – for your muse, a writing picture prompt, or just a visual treat.


I titled this week’s Hump Day Kick Start prompt the “Don’t Edition.” My mind is racing with all the possibilities that “don’t” comes into play with this photo. Don’t love me. Don’t hate me. Don’t leave me.

Who is our couple and what is going on? Are they lovers who know they have reached the end of their relationship? Could he be a man who is so broken, he only wants to be held by the woman he does not even know? Is he a visitor in an ancient European city being seduced by the local innkeeper’s daughter? Or perhaps it is he tempting the tourist—a novelist on a research trip—becoming her new muse.

What’s your take? Doesn’t have to be a “don’t”. Make it a “do” scenario, if you like. Or just caption the photo.

9 Responses to Hump Day Kick Start – Don’t Edition

  1. jeff7salter says:

    I don’t see it as either a “do” or a “don’t”. Here’s my take.
    Lina watched as Leo’s shaggy head moved side to side over her tummy, as though he wanted to absorb her. “You know I have to go get started.”
    “Yeah,” replied Leo. “And I want you to go.”
    “Then let go of me.”
    “You’re too delicious.”
    Lina sighed heavily. “Look. I’ll never get the bacon and eggs started if you keep clinging…”


  2. jbrayweber says:

    HAHA! Just like a man, Jeff. Hungry, but can’t decide what he want more—her or breakfast. Love it!


  3. RUTH KENJURA says:

    Don’t .
    Just don’t.
    Don’t touch me. It makes me remember your tenderness. Your warm caresses and that you once loved me.
    Don’t ask for forgiveness. It’s something I can’t give. My heart is shattered.
    Don’t tell me you still love me. Love doesn’t hurt this way. Love doesn’t take, it gives.
    Don’t tell me I will survive. I know I will, I will be stronger- I refuse to be broken by you.
    And don’t tell me it is better for me.
    Don’t lie to me to ease your guilt.
    Don’t ….don’t love me anymore.


  4. jbrayweber says:

    AH! THIS! This is tragic and beautiful. I love, love this, Ruth!


  5. Sarah Andre says:



  6. jbrayweber says:

    She nailed it, didn’t she?


  7. Sarah Andre says:

    Gotta play. And I’ll go with your ‘don’t’ theme, even though the photo very clearly screams: DO ME. 😉

    He’d never wanted anyone like this. Like he wanted Amanda. He didn’t know her last name, this facility maintained strict anonymity…Amanda might not even be her real name. He went by Paul, although he was pretty sure he hadn’t fooled anyone–Anarchy was tattooed across his chest, it was the name of his band and his absence from the world tour had been splashed all over the media.

    He’d been ‘clean’ for three weeks–if you can call not having sex clean, and today they’d told him if he kept up the good work he could discharge outta here next week. He couldn’t wait to get back to the band! If only he hadn’t seduced the pretty CEO of their record label, he wouldn’t have landed here in the first place. Six more nights, man, he could do this!

    But avoiding Amanda for that long would be a problem. Luckily the facility kept the male and female wings far apart and locked at night, but during the day he saw her in the halls, the dining room, out by the pool, streaking SPF up her body so obscenely he’d had to march straight into a cold shower. She’d only been here a week and the sexual energy pouring off her was drowning all his work. If he could just sink into that dark-haired, caramel-colored eyed beauty once…he was sure it wouldn’t ruin all the therapy.

    NO. He couldn’t f*ck this up. He had one week to go and he’d learned enough to know he used sex as an escape. Getting off had been as essential as oxygen, but he wasn’t like that anymore. He could do this!

    He paced his bedroom, raking a hand through his hair, planning his stealthy route to the female side. Not because he was actually going to GO, but it gave him solace to live out his fantasy of slipping into her room. The first thing he’d do is trail his fingers down that long neck. Watch her eyelids flutter and lower in surrender. He wanted to feel all that shiny hair tickling his chest…draping over his lap.

    When he heard the loud, metallic ‘clank’ of the bolt being thrown on his ward he ripped off his bedspread and threw it at the wall. He sank onto the sheet, groaning. Why was he acting like this? What about HER stirred him to insanity? He should be happy the bolt had been thrown. He was safe! One more night under his belt.

    The door whispered open and he looked over, jaw dropping in shock. “How the hell did you get through the guard and the door?” he said.

    “You don’t want to know.”

    “Actually, I do. Want to know.” His voice sounded weird, and his chest felt like he’d run a thousand miles. Amanda glided closer, the lace nightie doing nothing to hide her slender curves and overall fragility. Every muscle in him stiffened. “You shouldn’t be in here. I can’t wreck my chance to discharge outta here.”

    Even as he said it he itched to slide the barely-there strap off that dainty shoulder. “Please go way,” he said gruffly. She smiled and completely ignored his words, her eyes fastened on the part of him that told her everything out of his mouth was a big fat lie.

    She halted in front of him. His brain was overwhelmed with the scent of warm summer grass and wildflowers. Her skin glowed in the soft light…so smooth…so close. He licked his lips. What could one encounter hurt? Except the chance to go back to his band, his passion, his life! She shrugged out of the nightie strap and the fabric fell onto the soft mound of breast precariously, it would slip away any second. Just like his discharge date.

    “Don’t,” he whispered.

    She shushed him like he was a boy having a nightmare and slowly reached out. Her fingers wound into his hair and drew him in. Despite the warning scream in his head he wrapped his hands around her baby smooth thighs and began easing his way up to nirvana. She sighed and the sound altered his world. He’d forsake everything for this mysterious woman…a woman whose name he didn’t even know. He groaned and kissed her belly.


  8. jeff7salter says:

    Sarah’s BAACCKK!


  9. jbrayweber says:

    Torture! Pure torture, Sarah. I wanted him to succeed in staying clean. I was rooting for him. I hate “Amanda”.


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