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Old 05-01-2016, 09:38 PM   #1
erotica_n_s
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Depict scene: Lovers meeting face to face for first time – Depict sexual *TENSION*...

.....

Last edited by erotica_n_s : 08-19-2016 at 06:32 PM.
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Old 06-12-2016, 06:33 PM   #2
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A little disappointed that no-one's given this a try...



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Old 07-22-2016, 07:17 PM   #3
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Quote:
Originally Posted by erotica_n_s View Post
.
A little disappointed that no-one's given this a try...
.
I'd hint that part of the lack of response is that your prompt is too specific and doesn't let the creative be inspired.

My suggestion, for your next prompt, is to look present it as a peek into a moment of sexual tension. All the details you outlined are things you find erotic, but you don't take into consideration where the story is being made... so something that is erotic to you might not be erotic to someone else.

- Two lovers: why stop at two? Could be a threesome, or two couples meeting for the first time.... again. you're initial boundary has snuffed a person's ability to create their worn world.

- A man walks into a room: in 5 words, you've basically told all the female writers in this forum that you're not interested in their POV; same with homosexual couples; etc. etc.

- The woman is Asian Indian: this is the heart of your own personal fantasy, one that not many (as beautiful as South East Asian women can be) might be able to connect with for an infinite number of reasons.

- Everything Else: it's just a bullet list of things you find erotic. So the immediate response for me is "Why waste my time, I don't find any interest in any of this."

Your post essentially forces your fantasy on another person, and you ask that person to create a universe they don't have much room to play in because of the constrains of your erotic needs.

Remember that a prompt is a catalyst for someone else to roam and build something from scratch. It's like the moment before you kiss someone for the first time... how excited would you be if that person's family was standing next to you with an outlined list of when you will get married, when and how you will have sex, how many kids you will have, and what their names will be, etc., etc. Would you even want to continue with the kiss at that point?

For example, if you mess around with your subject line and pair it down to "Lovers meeting face to face for first time" -- this would let someone empathize with that position because we've all been there before, and creativity takes over from there.

Good luck with your next prompt!
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Old 09-07-2016, 05:23 PM   #4
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Where are you? they both wondered, from different ends of the the Friday night bar crowd. It was nosier than ever this Halloween night: raucous laughter, billiard balls clicking, college football on the big screens competing with a jukebox that played nothing but Hank Williams, Jr. He stood next to a group improbably costumed as German Wehrmacht officers and half expected them to stand up singing Wacht am Rhine, in which case he'd look for the French counter-singing the Marseilles and there she'd be. But that didn't happen.

He could have made it easier, each thought, getting no closer in the mob. Their mutual friend blind-dated them into a a packed holiday bar scene with only a bare description of each other, savage revenge no doubt because he was tired of his and her incessant pleas for finding someone "nice" (her) and "a sure thing" (him).

Well, damn, this is one big Fail, they said, putting down their steins (it was still "Rocktoberfest" for another few hours), heading for separate exits into the badly lit parking lot.

Outside it was easier to think about what "sexy cute" might mean. Not trashy, but not leave-me-alone-plain. That took out the college kids and the cowboys and the vamps, the barflies, pool players, dart throwers, the after-work blue collars, drunks and almost everyone else in costume. They were a few feet apart when they crossed paths, headed in the opposite direction, but were lost in thought and missed each other again.

Sometimes the gods of love smile down, sometimes they shake their heads in a holy-shit-how-blind-are-they moment. This was the latter.

One of them whistled up a barn cat, which ran screeching between them, followed by a barking farm dog, with a ... coyote ... chasing the dog. (it was the safest choice, a dire wolf might prove unpredictable). That got their attention as they turned they saw each other, up close.

She saw: a well dressed lad in dress pants and polished shoes, a sport coat and a mismatched tie, all accenting a warm smile.

He saw: a bewitching desirable young woman, in a just-short-enough skirt and just-enough-unbuttoned blouse, in heels, all accenting a warm smile.

Hello, they said, touching for the first time.
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Old 10-05-2016, 06:42 PM   #5
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Quote:
Originally Posted by erotica_n_s View Post
.



A little disappointed that no-one's given this a try...



.
Screw him. I love your prompt. It's plenty clear.
I'm working on a short for you.
I'll post a bit later.

Thanks for the thread.
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Old 10-05-2016, 09:14 PM   #6
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First meeting

The lakeside restaurant had a good reputation for its wine cellar, its original food creations, its spectacular view, its conviviality.

‘It’s been over a year. She knows everything about me. There’s nothing to worry about.’ Aida tells herself. ‘I’m only meeting a friend, a good friend... My therapist says I should stop spinning everything and look at things squarely. So... All right! I hope we can be more. So much more.’
Aida sits in her car a while longer, staring at the entrance, watching the couples walk in and out, hand in hand, arms around waists, wondering if choosing a gay friendly place was the right thing to do for their first meeting.
‘What if she’s shy about being a lesbian?’ She cringes at the thought. ‘What if she never shows up? What if she lied in all those emails?’
Her youth had been a long period of living in fear that her brother or father would discover she was gay, a sin punishable by stoning in her Muslim country. She worked hard at getting a medical degree she could parley into immigration to the States where her difference was accepted, in some parts of the country.
Unconsciously, she rubs her thighs together as she hold the steering wheel with white-knuckled hands. She feels the heat rise and closes her eyes tightly, visualizing the last picture Hope sent her. She moans softly at the mental construct she built of the body under the austere business suit.
She may have to play the tough VP of Project Management at work, but the woman couldn’t disguise her delicate features, the pouty lips, the tender look in her eyes as she posed for Aida.

Since they made the date a week earlier, Hope had gone through so a plethora of emotions, most of which were foreign to her make-up.
She is assertive, bossy even. She sets goals for herself and nothing stands in her way for long. She knows who she is, what she wants... She’s scared silly of meeting this woman who she feels in her heart of hearts is her soulmate.
It had taken months of emails before Aida dared confess to having feelings for women. Yet more for her to admit to being a virgin, one eager to change that status, but looking for the right woman to give herself to.
They laughed together as she recounted her forays into the lesbian culture, her timid ventures in gay bars. Her love of dancing had opened doors to friendships, but she never found Ms. Right.
Fearing she would scare her friend away, Hope never told her of her own special place in the lifestyle, though she had confessed to being a lesbian at the onset. She had never hid from who she was. She certainly wouldn’t with Aida. It had paid off big time. They had become the very best of friends. She was her only true friend, if truth be told.
Hope drove past the restaurant over and over. She had to make her mind before someone called the cops.
In the last week, she had gone through her entire wardrobe, trying to decide on how to present herself to the woman who had haunted her dreams for so long. Both of her wardrobes, in fact.
That morning, she had taken a leisurely scented bath, spent an hour applying the perfect make-up... then broke down crying.
She returned to the bathroom, took a hot shower, scrubbing all traces of the fake persona she built over the years to make her place in the business jungle.
Her decision made, she went to the drawer holding her ‘real’ clothes.

Still panting from the orgasm she has just given herself practically only by fantasizing about the body Hope kept so carefully hidden, Aida is startled when a motorcycle pulls in, not ten feet from her car. The others already parked there look like toys beside it. A classic chopper such as she’s seen in movies, it exudes power. It sure is loud.
The driver, in black leather from head to toe, sits back after cutting off the engine. He takes off his black military-looking helmet, runs his hands in his short-cropped sandy blonde hair and stretches the kinks of the road away.
He gets up to store his headgear in a saddlebag, opens his jacket and looks around.
Aida gasps out loud, bringing the... woman’s attention in her direction, but she doesn’t see her so she can take in the black muscle tank showing a red sports bra, the form-fitted black leather pants. The two inch heeled biker boots must make her at least six foot tall. But what really gets her blood boiling are the familiar features, emphasized by the absence of the wavy golden locks she has only seen once out of a severe bun.
The woman takes off her jacket, revealing muscled arms to go with the wide shoulders and buff torso. The strong thighs should have been an indication by themselves.
A fresh flow of cream makes itself known. She’s glad she decided to wear a light cotton white flowing skirt with a flower pattern embroidered in white thread to go with her brown understated paisley pattern top. The crochet work under the bust accents her C-cups which she now wishes she had covered with a bra. Her large nipples stand out visibly, not the first impression she had been looking for. A second one, maybe...
The biker takes off her jacket and casually flips it over her shoulder. As soon as the restaurant door closes behind her, Aida is running toward it, her mind made up. As if there had been any other option once the woman stepped off her machine.

Her confidence restored once she decided to be herself, Hope drove in the parking lot without hesitation... once she stamped down any lingering nerves.
She kicked out the stand and sat back for a moment, savoring the ride she had just taken. She loved to hit the road on her powerful hog. As she brushed her crewcut with her fingers, sweat flew from the bristles. Opening her coat, she let the light breeze dry her body. The sun had sure beat down on her that afternoon.
A familiar noise pulled her attention toward the parking, though nothing caught her eye.
She took off her jacket and pulled the sweat-soaked top away from her back. With a last smile at the blazing sun, she walked to the entrance.
Jackie was at the hostess stand, as usual. They smiled at each other. Years earlier, they had a brief fling and stayed friends after coming to the mutual conclusion that, aside from a fantastic sexual connection, they had little in common.
“Hey, Hope. How are things?”
“Fine, Jayjay. How’s business?”
“Half full, but it’s still early. As you expected. It’s your favorite time to come over, after all.”
“You know it. I made a reservation earlier this week. I’m waiting for someone.”
“I see your packing for action, babe. Does she know...?”
“I’m with her.”
A petite woman pressed herself against Hope’s arm, slipping a soft hand in her callused one, intertwining their fingers.
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Last edited by AnAngelReally : 10-08-2016 at 07:09 PM.
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Old 10-06-2016, 03:33 AM   #7
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"Hey baby, wanna fuck?"

She looked at the movie star with fawn-line eyes. Would she succumb to him?

YES!

She lowered her eyes.

"Whip it out, Errol," she whispered.
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Old 10-06-2016, 01:21 PM   #8
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Old 10-21-2016, 12:11 PM   #9
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So it's technically a meet-cute with a sexy edge?

Here's a revision of a short story I wrote earlier and dumped on Reddit (that's before I discovered this place).

------

I stumbled out of the club, tears brimming from my eyes. I barely noticed the doorman who managed to open the door for me before I crashed into it.

It was supposed to be the best day of my life, my 18th birthday. I am alone in this West Coast school, so I organized a couple girls into a girls night out, and we Uber'ed to this club we heard so much about since they wanted to share a ride. The line is long, and they check ID like hawks, including flashlight in the face and all, but we got in. I was enjoying the atmosphere and the buzz of my third drink when I happened to notice my boyfriend doing some dirty dancing with a blond bimbo on the dance floor.

My drink slipped from my hand as my mind recalled he did the same thing with me last weekend... at his place.

I ran for the door.

My eyes are too blurry to read the phone, but I can feel the home button of my iPhone. "Siri, call Henry driver."

"Miss Campbell, is everything all right?"

"Henry... come get me... now.... Please."

"Miss Campbell, I am sorry I can't come right now, but ..."

I sobbed. Nothing is going right tonight.

"Miss Campbell? <Static> few blocks away. He'll be there momentarily. Please stay on the line."

I blinked away the tears. The night wind picked up, stinging my eyes.

"Miss? Are you all right? You appears to be in distress." A concerned man said behind me. I whirled around, ready to give the person a tongue lashing to leave me alone, before realizing it was two police officers walking their beat.

"I.... I am fine, officers. Thanks for asking. I am just waiting for my ride. "

A black sedan stopped behind me.

The driver immediately exited the vehicle and came around to open the back door for me. I didn't give him a single glance. I don't need anybody to pity me. I just placed myself in the backseat without saying goodbye to the police, and I didn't even bothered with the seatbelt. The door closed. The driver ran back to his door, got in, and we're off. I sunk lower and lower in my seat until my leg was pushed up against the backseat, and I sobbed quietly to myself.

I heard the driver report in as the car drove through the city streets. I paid it no attention as I continued to wallow in my self-pity.

The driver said, "There's a tissue box in the center console if you need it, Miss Campbell."

I reached for the tissue box, extracted several and blew my nose, and wiped my eyes. I actually felt a little better. I mumbled my thanks, did that voice sound familiar...

The driver said, "Should I take you home now, Miss Campbell?"

Recognition flashed behind my eyes as I sat up abruptly.

"Peter?!" I recognized the voice. My minidress had ridden up high enough and I quickly tugged it back into place. Why him? Why now?

"Yes, Miss Campbell?"

"Oh my God, Peter! It is you!"

A sigh, then "Yes, Alana. It's me."

A knot formed in my throat, and no more words came out. How bad can this day get? Not only my BF cheat on me, my secret crush for years was here to witness my humiliation.

I hid my face in my palms, and a sob escaped, and I can no longer hold back my tears.

I didn't notice when the vehicle stopped. The other passenger door opened. He sat down and put a protective arm around my shoulders.

I hugged him and wept onto his jacket.

He held onto me, and gently rocked me, and rubbed my back, and told me everything will be all right. I felt a kiss on my forehead.

For a moment I imagined those hands unzipped the back of my dress and cup my buttocks. I imagined those lips on mine... Even though I know those cannot be. He's just a fantasy of mine. Our worlds are too different.

The fantasy faded as my sobs subsided.

I looked up at Peter's face, with Buddha like patience, and I almost lost it again. I was expecting pity, judgment, sneer, ... but I got none of that. I can guess... I know how pathetic I looked... My mascara ran, my makeup is a mess, my eyes are puffy... But there's just a brotherly love... wait... was there something else? I thought I saw...

Before I can move, Peter already grabbed a tissue and gently dabbed at my cheek and around my eyes. His other hand held mine, the thumb gently rubbing the back of my hand.

"Want to tell me about it?"

I shook my head. The betrayal is too raw.

"Let me take you home, " He offered.

I nodded.

He disentangled himself and exited out the rear door. Then a thought occurred to me. I got out the rear door as well. I got into the front side passenger seat, raised the center arm rest, and snuggled next to him and held onto his right arm.

He stiffened, and for a moment I thought he would insist I sat in the back, but he took a couple long breaths, asked me to put on my seatbelt, and drove on. I closed my eyes, felt his warmth and inhaled his cologne.

In a way, this was a dream come true. Maybe this birthday was not a complete disaster after all.
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Old 10-28-2016, 05:52 AM   #10
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Ten Years

The courage it took to finally meet, ten years we wrote, ten years together on the ether. Exciting, fucking intimacy, friendship, people died, life dramas lived. Throughout the years we were inside each others head where no other soul was permitted to be. We knew secrets of each others lives. Deep, dark and dirty. I subbed for him he was my Master. I always did as I was told, shave that cunt, sleep with bound wrists, whip those breasts hard with a folded man's belt. Nipple clamps and hot cunt creams. Push that butt plug right inside. Did it hurt? Yes Sir a lot! Crotch rope tight over the clit then go and shop without any panties. Tell him all in every detail what it looked like and how it felt.

Then once a year when we were both alone we spoke on Voice and we heard our moans as both came with each others help. He loved to hear the strike of the belt hard and often across my breasts. I heard his grunts of pure delight. Anything he thought up I wanted to do. Just to please him was all I wanted and he took real pleasure with the power he held over me. I only ever called him Sir or Master. He knew I was his possession but always treated me with respect and told me this was a partnership. He collared me after just three months and I wear that silver chain from that time to this.

I finally flew across the world to meet....it would be fleeting, short and totally discreet. I brought the toys we had used in our play...ropes, gags butt plugs and whips. I dared not hope that any would be used...but living in hope was part of the fun.

I sat on the bench outside the pub, he would be passing at the appropriate time, if I looked away he would keep on walking. I kept my gaze fixed on his face, gentle, kind with a touch of firmness, he nodded to me and walked into the pub. I was staying upstairs a room number he knew, we went up separately slipping quickly inside careful no-one was there.

I was so shy I couldn't look up...his response was gentle....he said my bowed head is his very good sub! I looked up with grateful delight, with both his hands he held my face, bent down and kissed me it felt just like he had done it so many times before.
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Old 10-28-2016, 06:11 AM   #11
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Hey I like you.
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