I don't need to know...

thiscouldbtricky

The one That got Away
Joined
Sep 21, 2004
Posts
4,703
My slinky but understated little black dress hugs my curves in all the right places, my deep red heels drawing attention to my shapely legs when you catch a glimpse of me across the room. The muted light gently shimmers off my chocolate brown, stylishly short hair, the copper tones are accented in the dimness. Suddenly the other people in the room become muted, the writhing bodies of the other dancers no longer warrant your attention. Even with half of my face covered by the mask, matching the rest at the party, something about the line of my jaw, or perhaps my relaxed but poised stance, or maybe it's just my C cup breasts swaying gently in time with the music... Something about me draws your eye. And even better I am standing alone.
Before you realize you have even taken a step, you are halfway through the crowd, headed my way. Your crisp suit and matching mask leave you nondescript from afar, but I notice the tall, broad shouldered man who is parting the dancers and seems on a mission.
I take a delicate sip of my drink and wonder briefly at this man who seems so somberly intent as he heads across the dance floor, but my mind is otherwise occupied. I am ripped from my thoughts when some overly-imbibed cretin grabs me somewhat roughly by the elbow, and drunkenly makes a pass at me. With an un-ladylike sneer, I inform him that he is mistaken about the mirror in my pocket, and threaten dismemberment if he touches me again.
By the time the idiot has slinked off and my gaze returns to the dance floor, I can no longer see the man with purpose I had glimpsed coming toward me and am mildly disappointed. An almost imperceptible pout comes to my lips...



Someone please PM me... :rose:
 
I turn and set my drink down on the bar, and there you are, at my opposite elbow. I quietly gasp, not used to being snuck up upon. My golden eyes meet yours, and we can both sense that words are unnecessary.
You simply hold out your hand for me to take. Where I was aloof and maybe cold only moments before, when I meet your laughing eyes and smiling mouth, shiness and uncertainty reign. But I take your strong hand, it's rough palm sensuous against my smooth skin. With an eloquent cock of my head, I wordlessly ask, "What now?"
 
"Now, we dance." I take your hand and pull you out into the crowd, parting the way until we're in the center. I pull you towards me, lift your hand and twirl you slowly, studying you tip to tail, growling my approval.
 
You take my hand, and instead of predicictably leading me to the dance floor, head to a secluded alcove, cut off from the rest of the party, seperated by a short hallway. I don't have much time to react, and the air of confidence and mystery you carry keeps my addled brain from forming any sort of protest.

And do I really want to protest anyway? You seem different from other men, and I haven't felt so alive in a long time.

Releasing my hand, you let yours rest gently on the small of my back as you fling back a deep red curtain that blends with the rest of the room so perfectly, I hadn't noticed it before. With your free hand directing me through the archway, the other closes the curtain behind us.
My blood is singing with excitment, my skin atuned to every brush of your skin against mine, and it only crosses my mind for a moment that you are a perfect stranger, leading me off into a dark secluded place that only you seem to be aware even exists. And we have yet to speak a word to each other.

I know a moment of unease, then. Perhaps he is just like everyone else, only trying to drag me off to a dark cave to see if he can manage to let him fuck me.

However, the undeniable magnetism I feel low in my stomach when I look at you is not to be ignored. Heat pools between my legs as I watch you gracefully sink down to a couch that matches the curtains and decor, a deep red suede creation that somehow manages to appear sinister and welcoming at the same time. But perhaps it's because that's where you are.

Or maybe it's just been too long since I got laid. Bah, I'm terrible at processing my own feelings, really.

Almost shyly, I take a seat next to you, uncertain now of what to expect. I clasp my hands tightly in my lap, and look anywhere in the room except right at you. From the corner of my eye, I watch you lean forward, and your dark, lean hand reaches across me. I stay perfectly still, though, too aware of you to want to give away too much emotion and some deep primal instinct tells me to show no fear.

When you only pull back a remote from the other side of the cushions, and turn on some music, I feel like a noob and nearly giggle at myself. It's weird feeling so inept all of a sudden. At the same moment I realize that this alcove must be partially sound-proofed somehow from the rest of the party, because I didn't pick up on the lack of music until you turned another source on.

Our first words are spoken, I break our silence, "You seem to know your way around pretty well."

You chuckle, and the sound alone sends a shiver down my spine and a message to my base instincts that tells me I need to hear more. A deep resonant sound that I can feel all over my body, I'm already addicted.

Holding my breath, I wait for your response... :rose:
 

Nice picture.


I accidently stumbled across this picture that looks like a black and white picture from something like the 1930's the other day just simply looking for funny pictures and not porn. Honest to goodness truth....lol...I think I find it erotic because of how things were back then..


old-funny-and-weird-photos07.jpg
 
Nice picture.


I accidently stumbled across this picture that looks like a black and white picture from something like the 1930's the other day just simply looking for funny pictures and not porn. Honest to goodness truth....lol...I think I find it erotic because of how things were back then..


old-funny-and-weird-photos07.jpg

lol, actually it is a little funny :D
 
I am not turned on by random naughty parts of random strangers that I know exactly zero about, not even what you actually look like. As much as maybe my little story might imply different.

That's romanticism. If the guy in my story, instead of grabbing my character and taking her away, decided he would just walk up and whip out his cock... The story would have gone much differently and it would not have been all that interesting.

Sorry. Had to rant for a second.
 
Its your thread; rant all you want. Besides, what you're calling "romanticism" I find to be a pre-requisite for something to be truly erotic. Without that component, such as if you just have some random cock sprung out at you like a perverted jack-in-the-box, its about as erotic as an anatomical text book. Atmosphere has far more value and meaning than mere physicality, in my humble opinion.
 
I am not turned on by random naughty parts of random strangers that I know exactly zero about, not even what you actually look like. As much as maybe my little story might imply different.

That's romanticism. If the guy in my story, instead of grabbing my character and taking her away, decided he would just walk up and whip out his cock... The story would have gone much differently and it would not have been all that interesting.

Sorry. Had to rant for a second.

Very good rant... I like it! :)
 
Its your thread; rant all you want. Besides, what you're calling "romanticism" I find to be a pre-requisite for something to be truly erotic. Without that component, such as if you just have some random cock sprung out at you like a perverted jack-in-the-box, its about as erotic as an anatomical text book. Atmosphere has far more value and meaning than mere physicality, in my humble opinion.

Hahaha, perverted jack-in-the-box... sorry, I really LOL'd on that one.

But I do completely agree. I'm working up to it in the story. Working up to the good parts, coming soon, for anyone who is interested. It wasn't meant to be something like it's turning into in my mind, I might have to just write it all at once and actually submit it. :)
 
You are an amazing writer and I love the romanticism.. I wish I wasn't so tired or maybe I could help
 
Very nice. You maintain the romantic mood of this story very well please don't hesitate to continue.
 
You take my hand, and instead of predicictably leading me to the dance floor, head to a secluded alcove, cut off from the rest of the party, seperated by a short hallway. I don't have much time to react, and the air of confidence and mystery you carry keeps my addled brain from forming any sort of protest.

And do I really want to protest anyway? You seem different from other men, and I haven't felt so alive in a long time.

Releasing my hand, you let yours rest gently on the small of my back as you fling back a deep red curtain that blends with the rest of the room so perfectly, I hadn't noticed it before. With your free hand directing me through the archway, the other closes the curtain behind us.
My blood is singing with excitment, my skin atuned to every brush of your skin against mine, and it only crosses my mind for a moment that you are a perfect stranger, leading me off into a dark secluded place that only you seem to be aware even exists. And we have yet to speak a word to each other.

I know a moment of unease, then. Perhaps he is just like everyone else, only trying to drag me off to a dark cave to see if he can manage to let him fuck me.

However, the undeniable magnetism I feel low in my stomach when I look at you is not to be ignored. Heat pools between my legs as I watch you gracefully sink down to a couch that matches the curtains and decor, a deep red suede creation that somehow manages to appear sinister and welcoming at the same time. But perhaps it's because that's where you are.

Or maybe it's just been too long since I got laid. Bah, I'm terrible at processing my own feelings, really.

Almost shyly, I take a seat next to you, uncertain now of what to expect. I clasp my hands tightly in my lap, and look anywhere in the room except right at you. From the corner of my eye, I watch you lean forward, and your dark, lean hand reaches across me. I stay perfectly still, though, too aware of you to want to give away too much emotion and some deep primal instinct tells me to show no fear.

When you only pull back a remote from the other side of the cushions, and turn on some music, I feel like a noob and nearly giggle at myself. It's weird feeling so inept all of a sudden. At the same moment I realize that this alcove must be partially sound-proofed somehow from the rest of the party, because I didn't pick up on the lack of music until you turned another source on.

Our first words are spoken, I break our silence, "You seem to know your way around pretty well."

You chuckle, and the sound alone sends a shiver down my spine and a message to my base instincts that tells me I need to hear more. A deep resonant sound that I can feel all over my body, I'm already addicted.

Holding my breath, I wait for your response... :rose:

I'm fairly certain my mouth is hanging open as I stare at you, your reply having been misheard. Or mistaken. Or just plain imagined. After a moment, I get a hold of myself and ask, "I'm sorry, could you please repeat that. I don't think I quite heard you correctly."

Again, that delicious chuckle escapes your lips. I really could listen to that all day... When my inner monologue rudely interrupts, Hey, you're supposed to be listening to his answer, bonehead.I shake my head slightly and refocus on your words, catching only the latter half of them again, but it's enough to know I didn't mishear you the first time.

"... This is my party. "

I still can't help that my jaw has so much slack as I query stupidly, "Your party? But then, that would make this your house... I thought this house belonged to my boss's family. My boss said something about his "family estate" blah blah, I didn't catch the rest. Should have been listenig huh? I do that sometimes, just sort of zone out and then I get nervous and start to ramble, kind of like right... now."

To my humiliation, you throw your head back and laugh. While a pleasing sound, my mortifcation isn't giving me any time to appreciate it. I'm thankful for the mask that covers my face because I can feel my cheeks flush bright red.

When you have finally stopped laughing, you inform me, " This is my house, I am assuming that my younger brother told you that it was his. But I understand your confusion, of course." And damn you, I can still hear the smile in your voice.

Without missing a beat, however, you continue, "I would really rather not talk about my family just now. I would like to talk about you. Or maybe just not talk at all... You fascinated me from all the way across the room earlier. I'm not sure how exactly. Your jaw, perhaps, or your legs." To emphasize your words, you gently touch each part in question as you speak them. "Or possibly just your attitide."

Your touch causes goosebumps to rise on my flesh, and I realize belatedly that you can't see my face. You can't easily gauge my reactions, and I can be whoever I want to be. So why am I still shy, and currently embarassed? You have no idea who is under the mask, really.

This is the thought that boldens me, and gives me courage to act how I normally would not. As your hand brushes the skin of my thigh, I press my fingers into yours and jerk your hand HARD towards me.

You lose a lot of poise and finesse while you're falling, by the way.

Your body smashes into me, and I use the opportunity to assault your beautiful mouth with mine... :rose:
 
Great start...well detailed...:rose::rose:

Don't keep us waiting toooo long for the rest..:D:rose:
 
*tries not to let my eyes wander, but can't help it as you bow. Whistles and claps louder* No no thank you.


Heheh...sorry, couldn't resist.

*peers at you askance at the hearty response, until I realize just how far down my shirt you can see. I straighten, and cheekily blow you a kiss*

I think you know what you can get away with :)
 
I'm fairly certain my mouth is hanging open as I stare at you, your reply having been misheard. Or mistaken. Or just plain imagined. After a moment, I get a hold of myself and ask, "I'm sorry, could you please repeat that. I don't think I quite heard you correctly."

Again, that delicious chuckle escapes your lips. I really could listen to that all day... When my inner monologue rudely interrupts, Hey, you're supposed to be listening to his answer, bonehead.I shake my head slightly and refocus on your words, catching only the latter half of them again, but it's enough to know I didn't mishear you the first time.

"... This is my party. "

I still can't help that my jaw has so much slack as I query stupidly, "Your party? But then, that would make this your house... I thought this house belonged to my boss's family. My boss said something about his "family estate" blah blah, I didn't catch the rest. Should have been listenig huh? I do that sometimes, just sort of zone out and then I get nervous and start to ramble, kind of like right... now."

To my humiliation, you throw your head back and laugh. While a pleasing sound, my mortifcation isn't giving me any time to appreciate it. I'm thankful for the mask that covers my face because I can feel my cheeks flush bright red.

When you have finally stopped laughing, you inform me, " This is my house, I am assuming that my younger brother told you that it was his. But I understand your confusion, of course." And damn you, I can still hear the smile in your voice.

Without missing a beat, however, you continue, "I would really rather not talk about my family just now. I would like to talk about you. Or maybe just not talk at all... You fascinated me from all the way across the room earlier. I'm not sure how exactly. Your jaw, perhaps, or your legs." To emphasize your words, you gently touch each part in question as you speak them. "Or possibly just your attitide."

Your touch causes goosebumps to rise on my flesh, and I realize belatedly that you can't see my face. You can't easily gauge my reactions, and I can be whoever I want to be. So why am I still shy, and currently embarassed? You have no idea who is under the mask, really.

This is the thought that boldens me, and gives me courage to act how I normally would not. As your hand brushes the skin of my thigh, I press my fingers into yours and jerk your hand HARD towards me.

You lose a lot of poise and finesse while you're falling, by the way.

Your body smashes into me, and I use the opportunity to assault your beautiful mouth with mine... :rose:

At first, you try to catch yourself by bracing your hands on the sofa, but when you realize that I caught you with my mouth, your body relaxes into mine and you place a hand on my lower back and press me closer. Our lips and tongues explore each others, nipping bottom lips, the tone is teasing and playful. I arch my hips towards you and shift my legs so that I can wrap them around you, taking full advantage of my secret identity, to be brazen and wanton. As our hips meet, you groan into my mouth and break contact with my lips, trailing hot and hard kisses down my jawline to my neck and collarbone. Gasping, my fingernails dig into the stiff material of the suit covering your shoulder blades.

:rose:
 
Your writing spoiled me for finding anyone else on here. Guys, do your best to try and pique her interest. She is so worth it
 
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