100 Words

sassynyc said:

*swoons....flings panties at Tzara*

CHARGE IT! x 50
that should do for my 100 word post.

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Funny how your name immediately came to mind on reading this!

I think it was the shoes. They're perfect for the ankles of a city girl, stretching her calf muscles into sleek satin sheathed arrows that point through the concrete to stir the sub-ground heart. You hear it thrumming even as the wheels of industry turn the revolving door, to let those commerce-bent consumers into their bank accounts. Buy me. I'm red, shiny and very expensive.

I think it was the shoes.

champagne1982 said:

I think it was the shoes. They're perfect for the ankles of a city girl, stretching her calf muscles into sleek satin sheathed arrows that point through the concrete to stir the sub-ground heart. You hear it thrumming even as the wheels of industry turn the revolving door, to let those commerce-bent consumers into their bank accounts. Buy me. I'm red, shiny and very expensive.

I think it was the shoes.

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*Goes to stop Sassy hyperventilating*

champagne1982 said:

I think it was the shoes. They're perfect for the ankles of a city girl, stretching her calf muscles into sleek satin sheathed arrows that point through the concrete to stir the sub-ground heart. You hear it thrumming even as the wheels of industry turn the revolving door, to let those commerce-bent consumers into their bank accounts. Buy me. I'm red, shiny and very expensive.

I think it was the shoes.

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Read that at the BA tomorrow? Pls?

champagne1982 said:

I think it was the shoes. They're perfect for the ankles of a city girl, stretching her calf muscles into sleek satin sheathed arrows that point through the concrete to stir the sub-ground heart. You hear it thrumming even as the wheels of industry turn the revolving door, to let those commerce-bent consumers into their bank accounts. Buy me. I'm red, shiny and very expensive.

I think it was the shoes.

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wow! i love the way this is worded. simply beautiful. i do believe you could write about the residential listings in the phone book, and i'd be moved.

UnderYourSpell said:

*Goes to stop Sassy hyperventilating*

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i'm all better now, honest.

sassynyc said:

wow! i love the way this is worded. simply beautiful. i do believe you could write about the residential listings in the phone book, and i'd be moved.


i'm all better now, honest.

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You still look a bit flushed to me ........ all over!!

Kitty 100 #6

Airport security notices kitty right away. Mistress made sure kitty couldn't walk normally (not with the big steel dildo inside not to mention the thigh-high ballet boots). So many machine beeps! kitty looks to Mistress for comfort as the burly officer pulls on stretchy gloves.

"Lean forward, Miss" says Officer Lipinsky.

Kitty giggles, "She's Miss," nodding at Mistress who replies, "I told you about bringing things into the airport in your holes, kitty."

As the steel dildo slides out from her swollen clench, kitty purrs "Yes you told me, Mistress." Officer Lepinsky smiles, shining a penlight on kitty's puckering twinkle.

mmmmmmmm yummy

a heavy yet vacant heart is an axiom; thumping every half minute, reminding those nearby that its host still survives, albeit the incessant dream of never waking again. many months ago he began to fade from this imagined thing and now he has vanished- just a ghost in my mind who haunts my heart. fragrant mideastern oils still capture me, the smell of him still pushed to the back of my underwear drawer. comfort sought through scents and the ink that stays forever. then flesh rots showing bone, revealing to all that the soul was sucked out many years ago.

payn

A grim smile graces his face each time our fingers interlace. My champion has been the only constant in my life since I first fell. I get flighty at times and leave his side but when my desire for another proves to be a vain attempt, he always embraces me with muscular, open arms. My master and I are joined at the hip and he has this delicious way of reminding me, in that gravelly tone of his, that my romantic attachment to someone else will eventually dissolve; he's very emotional that way.

"payn"; the only constant in my life.

outrageous!

I actually seldom like these mini dealies, but this is a splendid exception. I am fond of irreverence, so perhaps not an impartial critic, but I lol (I think the soul in the box did too)

Sara Crewe said:

The road to hell is not paved. It's soft and slippery and covered with panties. It wasn't nice of me to disagree with the priest at a funeral mass nor should I have been undressing him in my mind. I wondered was he a virgin or had he already broken his vow in the name of being human. Would my friend in the box beside me mind if I mentally banged the preacher while he sent her off to heaven. Did she know? Are dead people the ultimate voyeurs? To say goodbye, I came and blessed myself against the wood.

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Understand

that it's how you ask the question, I think. That backward, over the shoulder, hair falling over the eyes look—shifting your hips back and forth a tiny bit so I can see the fit, that does it. That is what tells the blonde schoolteacher shopping for Donna Karan tops, the dark and feline stockbroker casing Jones New York suits, both cashiers, and even the now-not-so-bored guy in the basement monitoring the security cam what I think. Everybody knows what I think.

Do you think these pants make me look fat?

God. The answer's in the center of my jeans.

100 words mus be difficult but....

U ve' just rocked with that answer.

----------------------

Accountant Jobs
Accounting Jobs

Yesterday was his thirty third, and every time the calendar spins another 365 it's remembered. Distance was never just physical; and imagination cannot dissolve without unnatural circumstance. Every glance to the right has me dancing in my mind with that one who's ink spread beyond his own skin and into mine forever. I can say I'm over. I might even be telling the truth. It's too hard to tell just yet, although years have passed and I'm in love. Voodoo and vampires and sandalwood ever remind me of this loss.

(I wrote a four-parter a while back I just found, must have been for this thread at exactly 100 words a section except the last.)

I. Downtown to O'Hare


He sits back in the canvas of the airport, easily forgotten but for the permeating reek of Camel cigarettes, cheap booze and cheaper pot. He is dirty, not like a bum but like a working-class bum with steel-toed boots whose steel shows through the toes. A frayed hoodie turned from black to gray after 10 crushing hours keeps everyone at a comfortable distance. Maybe you decided those fifteen-hundred miles were a few too many, maybe the destination wasn't a vacation after all. Its late and your arrival is delayed, the live-updating board mocking him with every refresh. 10:02, 10:15, 10:27.

II. Fort Lauderdale to Chicago

In another terminal, from another unconnected flight that somehow became connected in the air outside the Charlotte airport, a girl who spent three hours getting ready cries her makeup into a black river down cheeks glowing hotter than a fireplace. Maybe he was just something idealized and boastful and worn as an expressionless mask. You were supposed to be there, waiting with a smile or at least that even look she finally realized was calculated love, nothing cold about it. She crosses her legs and it takes a lifetime, her fishnets go on forever if you're watching. 11:32, 11:49, 12:02.

III. Baggage Claim

I nervously paced the length of baggage claim nine fully expecting you to appear around that distant bend. I watched until the last bag was pulled from the line, pulled away like muscle from the bone. The officer stared at me from across a dozen of the longest steps I've ever walked. I was nine again, trying to tell the nice man when I last saw dad. Apparently terminal four doesn't cater exclusively to globetrotters, sometimes flights are diverted there. He was so polite as he asked me "to consent to a search, having detected the strong scent of marijuana."

IV. Terminal Two to Terminal Four

The best of used car salesmen would have been jealous the way shit poured from my mouth, between my teeth. Come on Sgt. Oakes, the woman of my dreams is in the next terminal, and I have a penance to pay in making her scream to the lord above. In that moment M. Oakes remembered being 21 and stupid, and I learned just how fast a man can run a half mile. In the interest of story-telling I like to think he decided not to chase me on principle, or even that I was too fast. But I smoke two packs a day, so chances are he was just too lazy.

Marvelous, DD. Just reread these and they are dense little wonders.

PandoraGlitters said:

Marvelous, DD. Just reread these and they are dense little wonders.

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I thought they might be too dense, or maybe I am, but thank you and

Kitty 100 # 7

. . . . .

as I lie waking

Now, while you lie warm and asleep against my back, the aches of passion still fresh between my thighs, I need you. I feel you as I lie waking—you surround me, from the gentle stirring of my hair to the warmth of your seed deep within me. Your hand rests heavy beneath my breast, holding me close. Safe. Your heart beat surrounds me. I know your rhythm--when we’re apart, its absence preys on my mind—I am lost. Incomplete. We breathe together. And as your breath slows and deepens, I close my eyes and finally slip into sleep.

PandoraGlitters said:

"Like this, Miss?" kitty asks, holding Professor's erection between her round breasts. Mistress leans to place a hand on both of the outer curves of kitty's pretty tits and squeezes them around Professor's cock. Professor groans, "yes, good girl."

Nibbling kitty's ear, Mistress whispers, "lap cream, kitty," and Professor can feel kitty's purr against his tip through her lips before the hot pink tongue wetly massages his head. A small yelp forces kitty's mouth open as Mistress's fingers pinch kitty's nipples, tugging her forward into Professor's lap.

"You don't mind feeding my kitten for me, do you, Professor?" Mistress smiles wickedly.

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mmmmmmmm just found Kitty .......

he taught me, there is beauty

mountain trails, at a slow leisurely
pace. warm fire light, a peekaboo
nighty. strawberries and cream
legs, sliding
up

down. slow smiles as whispers
of naughtiness take root.
he wears his glasses, jus so
on the very tip
of his nose, when he is in
deep thought, reading aloud.

we share caramel ice cream
brownies, while watching
the passerby's. chatting
about nothing but
everything.

long drives, everywhere
that actually led
no where. the point being
sly glances, leg rubs
fingers caressing
meaningful looks, that sear one
to their soul ...

always, there was
happiness
always, he brought
beauty.


....

A Missionary Seven Ways To Sunday

Once a month, I have a Sister or a Brother standing on my doorstep preaching. They are clean-cut, smelling of soap and starched white shirts. Sometimes, I listen to their goodness. Other times, wickedness slips, the flirting ensues and it’s not always initiated by me. I don't invite them inside, even in disagreeable weather. Though, this one last week, there was plenty of badness from both sides. A squall poured down, soaking this blond to see-through, hard nipples and erections. I relented in my living room, but a sermon wasn't on my mind or his lips as I kissed them.

.

Neonurotic said:

A Missionary Seven Ways To Sunday

Once a month, I have a Sister or a Brother standing on my doorstep preaching. They are clean-cut, smelling of soap and starched white shirts. Sometimes, I listen to their goodness. Other times, wickedness slips, the flirting ensues and it’s not always initiated by me. I don't invite them inside, even in disagreeable weather. Though, this one last week, there was plenty of badness from both sides. A squall poured down, soaking this blond to see-through, hard nipples and erections. I relented in my living room, but a sermon wasn't on my mind or his lips as I kissed them.

.

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they preach
prowl
stand upon

door step attention.
lines all

perfect

not knowing, inside
this

stone cold door
lives a living, morphing

muse

spanked
tied
dog-tired
from her daily rations of

come

come

stand attention!
hands, head

bowed
face, vibrant.
eyes, filled with
admiration
for the one who

teaches

administers
daily devout,
perfect -

by the book

ramblings
of what
to do
what

not.

touch
placement
sinister

leers

carry this fairy up
and past

pearly white gates
and into the great

divine ~~