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Old 12-05-2004, 06:36 PM   #1
Den Sel
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Provisionally titled NYMPHETTE.

The following are two scenes in a larger story. They are about 2,700 words total.

Parts are rough and other parts I am still not happy with and working on (red font in brackets).

1) The 1st scene is in past tense and the 2nd in present. Is the switch jarring? I could put the 1st one in present tense too but it simply doesn't read as well IMO.

2) Any comments on dialogue or characterization?

3) I am aware that there is no point to the story, no quest, no conflict, no resolution. I see it as a weakness. How big is it?

Any other comments welcome. And I won't bitch about anything. Promise.

"I say thankya."

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You’ve got to be able to pull rabbits out of hats to have any hope of finding street parking in the South End, especially in the wintertime, when the snowdrifts seem to occupy half the spots. David Copperfield I am not. So, I simply double-parked and ran up the entrance steps to push the buzzer.

She came flying out, cuteness personified, and leaned in for a kiss. Instead, I slid around her, grabbed her hair and gave her a peck right behind the ear.

“New perfume?”

And with that, I pulled her head back and gave her a savage bite at her exposed neck. A half-moan, half-cry escaped her lips. Jen loved these surprises. Her goose bumps, however, could have been from the cold, so I ushered her into the car. Damn Boston winters.

Comforting warmth enveloped us right away. My finger motioned her closer and I took her offered mouth in a deep, hungry kiss.

“Good evening,” I said finally, and put the car in gear.

“Hi,” she answered, but her tone was off and her smile did not touch her eyes.

“Something wrong?”

“I am sick of being treated like a child. It’s, like, totally crap,” came the explosion.

Uh oh. “The wicked witch again?”

Jen lived with her mother and things had become a little tense lately. They had apparently gotten along fine until a few months ago, right after I had appeared on the scene. Coincidence? Anyway, Nancy now seemed to have an endless stream of complaints about her daughter’s [perceived] irresponsibility and immaturity, and Jen seemed to always feel patronized, criticized, and treated unfairly.

“She’s such a bitch,” agreed my passenger. “I shouldn’t go out so much. I should hang out more with kids my own age. Kids! Can you believe it?” She was definitely [positively] miffed.

“Meaning, she thinks I’m too old for you,” I put in.

She simply looked at me. Of course! What’s the point of stating the obvious?

“Which is true,” I granted. “Well, she’s certainly entitled to her opinion. And you are entitled to your own life,” I finished philosophically.

“Yeah, sure, [easy for you to say] but she’s not in your hair all the time. Why can’t I stay with you more often?”

Tricky topic, this. Although Nancy had always been polite and friendly towards me, I did not feel particularly welcome spending time (much less nights) at Jen’s place. It was awkward. The obvious alternative was for my playdoll to spend more time at my place. Yet, I feared the clinginess that this one-sidedness might breed. I hate clinginess. [So, I was predictably reserved on that front.]

“What set her off tonight?” I deflected the question diplomatically.

“My clothes. She said my outfit’s crude, not appropriate for my age. My age! As if I haven’t seen her in that purple tube dress that had Stuart practically drooling over her.”

Stuart was mom’s beau. Or ex beau. I knew nothing about purple tube dresses and such but I let that pass.

Jen was in a new outfit? One that had apparently made quite an impression on mom? Boston streets can be treacherous in the winter, so I kept eyes on the road and hands on the wheel, forcing myself to contain my eagerness [greediness].

“Well, don’t you worry. I’ll give you a totally honest opinion about your outfit as soon as you show it off for me,” I assured her playfully.

She seemed pleased with that and, settling back in her seat, asked what the plan was for the night.

“Dinner at Chez Henri’s first. Tatiana, Juan and I-don’t-know-who-else [the rest] are going to be at Ryles. We can meet up with them there later.”

We usually did stuff with Jen’s crowd, but tonight was one of the rare occasions when we would be among my friends. No wonder she felt extra touchy on the subject of age and maturity. And perhaps a bit nervous as well.

Still, mom did have a point. Jen was only 22 after all, in her senior year in college. They say that men mature late (if ever), but at 35, there were times I felt positively ancient next to her. Or, if I were to put it less generously, I sometimes felt she was still such a clueless baby.

[Fresh out of grad school, I had gotten a research associate position at—well, at the institution of higher learning that Jen was attending. Her advisor had sent her my way for help with her project the summer before. I know, it’s so pathetically cliché, but that’s really how we met. And in my defense, nothing happened until late October, long after her project was over. I do like my job.]

We were a little early for our reservation and the hostess disappeared into the main dining area to check on our table. That’s when Jen finally took off her coat and I got my first look at what had upset mom. Jen was wearing a tight cord skirt the color of full-bodied burgundy wine, sheer back-seemed stockings, and a pair of ankle-strap black pumps. My eyes felt singed.

Impulse does not strike me very often--I’m heavy on the planning side of things--but when it does, I follow fast. The next moment I had dropped my keys to the floor and I was taking a half-step backwards and sideways. Jen turned to look at me in surprise [quizzically] [inquisitively] [to give me a startled look] and I simply glanced suggestively at the keys. The minx caught on immediately--she was a natural for such games. After giving me a wicked smile, she bent over and picked up those keys, but not before holding her pose long enough for me to admire [take in] a most satisfying view.

And then we were at our table and I had ordered a bottle of Rioja without so much as a second look at the wine list and my eyes were taking in the yumminess seated across from me.

Now, Jen’s skirt was not new--I had seen it before, back around Christmastime when we had gone out to Jillian’s for pool. We had played teams that night--Jen with some baby-faced guy friend of hers and I with Tatiana, and they had beaten us pretty bad. Tatiana is one of the best pool players I’ve known but [there’s not much you can do when you have a fifth column in your ranks.] I was so useless that night--playing out of turn, hitting solids when we were stripes, even sending balls flying off our table a couple of times. I totally sucked. My eyes were glued on Jen in her tight red skirt bending this way and that over the table or simply walking about. Jillian’s was so chic, a place to see and be seen (I suppose it still is), and Jen had quite a few eyes on her the whole time. Tatiana would tease me about that night for months afterwards, and with good reason. But I digress.

The point is that Jen’s mom must not have seen that little skirt before. Or perhaps, my presence in her daughter’s life had made her more sensitive. But I suspected that it was the entire combination that had done the trick on Nancy. The stockings and shoes were bad enough. But Jen was also wearing a thin, semi-transparent white blouse. It was close-fitting but not too tight, with a sensible scoop-down décolletage--nothing too extreme. Except that Jen was not wearing a bra, and her breasts were magnificently and tantalizingly outlined under her delicate top. I was transfixed.

I don’t know what this common culture of big-breast love is all about, but I don’t hold with it. Not at all. My heart beats for [fancy is given to] small breasts, tiny bumps really, and Jen had the perfect pair--almost prepubescent, you might call them--squeezable in one’s palm, suckable whole in one’s mouth. As I said, yumminess.

“You like?” Jen asked innocently, and she had obviously timed those two words because, at that very same moment, our waiter was there beside me, presenting the wine.

“Marqués de Riscal Reserva, sir?” He had an accent--some Latin American country probably.

As he struggled with the bottle, I pondered the mystery of women and their primping skills. I was in a pair of black pants, dark green silk shirt, and black suede vest. Not too shabby at all, but how can a man seriously compete with a determined woman on clothes [appearance]? Just then I became aware of Jen looking at me expectantly [peering at me]. I quickly pushed thoughts of dress out of my mind. I was in danger of being one-upped by the kitten’s antics and that was a matter demanding [of] immediate attention [wouldn’t do, it wouldn’t do at all].

“This babe asks if I like her top,” I addressed our waiter. “And I am sort of at a loss for a fitting response.”

Our man was quick. He glanced up, took a good look, and said: “It is very nice. Beautiful girls should always dress to please their man. Very nice,” he repeated approvingly.

He did not lick his lips but he might as well have. Awkward phrasing and a certain male chauvinistic perspective there, but somehow I was not inclined to disagree.

“In the winter, everyone wears so many clothes here,” he added melancholically [sadly], as he popped the cork.

“Fortunately, not quite everyone,” I pointed out.

He smirked and poured for me to taste. When he had taken our orders and gone away again, I turned to Jen.

“We are feeling quite brave tonight, I see,” I teased.

“I told you I can be both stylish and slutty,” she fired back.

Brave and competitive. She was referring of course to a half-serious, half-joking running argument of ours, she insisting that she is sexually adventurous and daring, I needling her that she is not as kinky as she wants to think. Just the week before we had had a conversation about past experiences and partners, and she had claimed that she could be as slutty and as dirty as anyone. I supposed she was now out to prove her point and that could be real fun. I had been looking forward to it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The front door has barely closed behind us and we are wrestling each other onto the bed, most of our clothes strewn about, the air already heavy with the scent of sex [pheromones]. I push Jen on her back and bring my mouth down to her tits, planting teasing kisses on her tiny globes.

My fingers creep under the flimsy material of her bikini and brush over her slit. She spreads her legs a little more and pushes up against my hand. As I cup her mound in my palm she moans and reaches for me, and I can feel my blood pumping, my cock growing through her fingers.

“You’re so wet, dirty little slut,” I say looking her deep in the eyes and thrusting my finger inside her.

Her nipple disappears into my mouth and I latch on it with my teeth. Pain explodes in my scalp as Jen pulls my hair hard in retaliation. My left hand slides under her head, gripping the back of her neck in a tight, painful vise. Our mouths join and our tongues attack each other mercilessly.

We are almost out of breath when my hand intrudes, breaking our kiss. With my grip still tight on the nape of her neck, I roughly feed her two fingers. She sucks on them hungrily, cleaning them of her own juices.

Jen pulls on my cock and I feel the familiar momentary sensation of being turned inside out, and then I am hard and pulsing and jumpy [jerky] in her palm. She pushes up against my weight and we both rise up on our knees.

“Lie down baby, I want to taste your cock,” she says, and plants her mouth on mine and her hand on my chest.

I smile a wicked smile and lie on my back.

“Sure. But bring your cunt over here. I want to play with it.” I know she has a distaste for that word; the more to use it then.

Jen moves to straddle my face and bends over my cock. I feel the wetness of her tongue on my shaft.

I pull off her panties, her arousal invading my nostrils, and her trimmed pussy sits exposed over my mouth. I plant little kisses on the puffy lips, rub them and spread them apart with my fingers. My tongue eagerly laps at her tart juices, my lips hunt her clit. I slide a finger in her and she grinds her pussy against my face.

I feel a tingling run through my cock and know that Jen has pushed the tip of her tongue against the tiny opening, prying and sucking the trickle of my precum. And then the warm wetness of her mouth engulfs me and I am in danger of getting lost in her rhythm. I shove a second finger in her and sense her shifting her angle and spreading her legs a little wider to accommodate me.

“You like me opening you up like this, don’t you? Suck me harder bitch,” I demand, and then I am back to licking and fingering her more insistently.

She makes no response, but grips my cock tighter and clamps her mouth harder on it, taking it whole down her throat, fucking her own face on it. I follow her quickening pace, finger-fucking her roughly, pushing deeper inside, rubbing her G-spot. My thumb tries to fix on her eluding clit as her body shivers and heaves against my fingers.

We have now slid into our familiar competitive play and, as always, Jen is losing the clash of wills. She takes her mouth off my cock and simply holds on to it with her hands.

“Come for me Jen, come for me you slut,” I spare a second to urge her on.

She takes a deep breath and starts screaming at the top of her voice.

All that time Jen and I saw each other, I never got [Jen and I have been together, I have not gotten] enough of her screaming. It was [is] so unique, so exhilarating, so satisfying. She said she didn’t [she says she doesn’t] know why, but she would often scream [she often screams] her lungs out during sex.

I wonder if the neighbors can hear all this racket. They must. I wonder what they make of it and just hope I won’t get the cops knocking on my door one of these nights. And then Jen arches her back and her thigh muscles tense and she keeps screaming. Her orgasm hits and her juices drench my face and my cock screams a physically painful want.

Without missing a beat, I throw her on her back and clamp my mouth on hers. I push my tongue as deep as it will go and can taste myself in her mouth. I smile inside knowing that she must also be tasting her own juices.

As I enter her in one impatient thrust, she screams in my mouth. I bring her two arms over her head, and pin them there. I prop myself up and watch her as I pound her hard but slow.

“Oh, fuck me, fuck me,” she says [urges me] dreamily.

She closes her eyes and I slap her face.

“Look at me as I fuck you slut,” I growl and try to bury my cock deeper into her.

Her eyes pop open and without warning she starts screaming again. [It startles me--after all these months, I am still not fully used to it.]

“Shut up,” I order her, and slap her harder.

We’ve played this game in many variations before, but tonight Jen surprises me. I look into those green eyes and I almost recoil. Because I don’t see there the Jen I know. What I see is some strange otherworldly sprite, radiating loathing and greed and pure animal lust. That Jen looks at me coolly and says flatly:

“Make me, you bastard.”

Last edited by Den Sel : 12-05-2004 at 06:48 PM.
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Old 12-08-2004, 09:44 AM   #2
dr_mabeuse
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I think it’s a very good story, but it’s definitely not finished. You know this yourself, that’s why you asked about it in your third question. For me, it’s the biggest problem in the story, and it raises the very interesting problem of how do you give shape and a feeling of story-ness to what’s essentially a fuck scene.

In this case I think you’ve provided your own solution because you raised an issue at the start of the piece that really needs o be addressed: the issue of their age disparity. He’s 35 and she’s 22 and in trouble with her family about seeing him. As a reader, I also wondered about this, and hoped that it was going to me more than just the stock male fantasy of having a younger woman. You really need to address this and show us what keeps these two together despite the age difference, and I think you’re already instinctively headed in that direction when you show us the kind of sex they have.

Obviously there’s more to this relationship than just convenience or a physical attraction. They’re involved in some mutually satisfying sexual role-playing, and it’s probably the kind of thing she couldn’t get from a boy her own age. I really think that’s the point of the story, and I would really play that up. Then all you really have to do is show how terrifically fulfilling their sex is when they play their parts and voila! The whole story makes sense. It raises a question and answers it, and reveals something about their characters too. I think that a couple of amazing orgasms and a scene in the afterglow where they revert to their normal characters along with a “That was fantastic!” “Uh-huh.” “See you tomorrow?” “You bet!” would do it.

I didn’t have any trouble with the change in verb tense, but I did have trouble with the entire restaurant scene. It’s obvious intent was to introduce us to Jen and possibly to show off the narrator’s sophistication, but other than that it serves to real purpose. I think you could fix this by giving us some more explicit hints of the type of relationship they have in the way they interact. For instance, that business with his dropping his keys wasn’t quite clear to me. Did she bend over to pick them up so he could see her ass? Or did she squat down so he could see down her blouse? Or was the fact that she bent over to retrieve them at all just supposed to show her submissive nature?

In any case, the restaurant scene seemed kind of pointless to me, especially when you tell us about the rest of the night they have planned but then skip right over it. Why not just make it dinner and bed?

I thought the scene with the waiter could have been a bit more developed too. At first I didn’t understand what the narrator was up to. It was only after I read about their behavior in bed that I realized that it was intended as a bit of public humiliation. Did she get off on it? It wasn’t clear.

2) Any comments on dialogue or characterization?

Yeah. I really didn’t care for this guy. He really seems like he’s using her, referring to her as his “playdoll” and showing off with his fancy restaurant and his wine order. He shows a totally selfish disregard for the family problems he’s causing her when he makes that offhanded dismissal in the car about her being entitled to live her own life. That’s what a cad would say. It’s like as long as he gets to fuck her, he doesn’t care about anything else, and aside from the physical attraction, he doesn’t seem to have any affection for her at all, and way too much affection for himself. Even in a D/s relationship I expect to see affection and respect and some human warmth. I mean, he’s causing major problems in her life. It would be nice if he loved her just a little bit.

As far as your suggested text changes in red, I’m not getting involved. Those are your calls, and you have to decide what sounds best to you. I would say, though, that it might be good to add that paragraph about how they met. This relationship is odd enough that I think we need to know how it came about.

I admired the writing. I think there are times when the narrator tries too hard to be clever (especially at the start), but when he’s not indulging himself the writing is very crisp and clear and refreshingly lean.

But the main thing is, in my opinion, that you give this story some shape by finishing the sex scene and showing what it is that keeps these people together. I would like the story to end with some affection between them, but then I like happy endings.

---dr.M.
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Old 12-10-2004, 04:22 PM   #3
Den Sel
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Thanks for the critique. Quick responses.

I don't want to "show" much more of the relationship. The story is supposed to let the reader paint the picture through the dialogue and clues, and with minimal narrative. If it doesn't achieve that, it fails.

Do you see the female protag as "submissive" and the restaurant scene as a "humiliation" scene? Perhaps others might give opinions on this (or perhaps not).

The male protag bothered you because "he's causing her major problems." Interesting way to put it. If her mom objected because of his race (say he's black) would HE be the cause of that problem?

Perhaps it is a certain lack of empathy that bothered you with the male protag, his failure to empathize with her problems. I suppose that's what you really meant.

As for "him loving her a little," the "happy ending" with "satisfying orgasms" etc. As I said, you're a softie deep down.
But that's for a different story.
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Old 12-12-2004, 04:06 PM   #4
CharleyH
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I understand you are still working out the details of this story, and the only thing I have read is what is presented here, so my comments will be limited to this. Personally, I don't mind whether there is an obvious plot. To me, two people getting it on is a plot action in itself, and I enjoy reading slices of life. I feel that there is much to be said for the figurative in building a narrative, and if a story or poem for that matter, encourages me to think diagonally, all the more interesting.

However, if you choose to go in this direction, then it will most likely be a problem for a few readers. For me, it is a problem only insofar as scene one and two do not appear to have any clear comment on each other more than one scene cut to the next. However, the jump is drastic. This is not to say they don’t reflect, they do in one respect, but the relationship between them seems unfocussed to me. I will blame this in part on my having not read the scenes within the whole story, and your admission that they are not finished.

I can only read this through my experience of what I found, and so this is how I will approach your questions. Perhaps in viewing, particularly the characters, through my eyes, you will find something that answers your questions more succintly.

1. The 1st scene is in past tense and the 2nd in present. Is the switch jarring? I could put the 1st one in present tense too but it simply doesn't read as well IMO.

I read both scenes twice. I do not mind the change in tense. I like the avant-garde and the jump in tense is only made obvious because of the jump in scene from one beginning to another kind of beginning. It displaces and disorients for a moment. If this is your intention, great. I see it adding as a reflection of the male character, when, in the end, he is taken off guard by the nymphette’s (Jen’s) primalness.

3. I am aware that there is no point to the story, no quest, no conflict, no resolution. I see it as a weakness. How big is it?

Ultimately, whether you go the way of the experimental or narrative, yes, there is a problem currently. In whichever case you look, I think the story needs purpose, whether a greater purpose in the symbolic for something experimental, or greater theme for a narrative plot structure, even if it ends with the proverbial cum shot.

2) Any comments on dialogue or characterization?

First a comment. There were things in the first scene that I had more of a problem with than in the second, but not in terms of dialogue, which was well done, but rather in terms of the descriptives. Examples:

“She’s such a bitch,” agreed my passenger.
“I am sick of being treated like a child. It’s, like, totally crap,” came the explosion.

I simply find those kinds of descriptives more awkward than not. The first, I could accept if the intention is that they are strangers or you want to emphasize his coldness and uncaring toward her. The second just reads weird. I would opt for she exploded.

I liked the characterizations, and it is here where I thought there was much more strength in the piece. Now, this is where I urge you to note that this is how I read it. In fact, I will call it my reading of your text.

You immediately align the male with David Copperfield, (he emphasizes he is not, but appears to me that he is an illusionist) the illusionist, and it suits his character and underlines the whole restaurant act, which emphasizes his pompous superficiality. Perhaps there is greater meaning derived from Dickens, but I do not recall the story and rabbit tricks seems to confirm my reading this as the pop culture icon.

First of all, only a cad (to use Dr. M's quite fitting word) acts that way in a dining restaurant, and second, the devil is in the details to me. The wine. He orders a “Rioja”, (suggesting there is more than one, although the waiter seems to know what he is ordering, in which case you should say THE Rioja) Anyhow, as it is written, ordering this way is much like ordering a Bordeaux or Chardonnay, giving me the impression he has no idea what the hell he is talking about. The particular wine is cheap, and yet the whole wine tasting scene is played out as if it is expensive, as though he wants to feel important. It is a formality offered, generally to make a person feel decisive and important, to inflate their ego. Most people who know wines will simply say pour it to a cheap bottle. So it struck me as amusing. (Keep in mind I say this having grown up in a fine dining atmosphere.)

Nonetheless, it is supported by the crude and self-inflated way he treats Jen and the waiter. First, by referencing Jen as nothing more than a playdoll, then a clueless baby, a little slut. Second, that her mode of dress, which was trampy, was acceptable to him in the ‘dining’ atmosphere, confirmed that he was indeed not what he first appears. Also, he comments that the waiter struggles. I take this as him putting the waiter down. His whole attitude speaks, no class.

Again, this illusion aspect of him plays out in the second scene. I have to admit feeling confused whether they were in an S/m relationship. I was led to believe this by the dropping of the keys in the first scene, but I was confused in the second scene as they switched back and forth from aspects of D/ s, not that there was D/s, but it was the tone and reading of such lines as:

“Sure. But bring your cunt over here. I want to play with it.” I know she has a distaste for that word; the more to use it then.

She closes her eyes and I slap her face.

“Look at me as I fuck you slut,” I growl and try to bury my cock deeper into her.


which made me think in those terms, and yet it is all a game, and a game he emphasises this at least twice.

This second scene does play out as surface and facadical in looking at it within these terms, particularly because he shifts, more than her, from the façade of being dominant to submissive to her animal lust/desires/needs. It appears that she knows exactly what she wants, she is not the little girl trying to find her way so to speak. She is not playing a facade . . . she is herself the slut, the whore, the nymphette (clothes, reactions).

She in fact struck me as an exhibitionist with power, and more than what he thinks she is. I do not associate her with D/s. I associate him with it. I think because he, more than her participates in the aspects of his 'game'.

We’ve played this game in many variations before, but tonight Jen surprises me. I look into those green eyes and I almost recoil. Because I don’t see there the Jen I know. What I see is some strange otherworldly sprite, radiating loathing and greed and pure animal lust. That Jen looks at me coolly and says flatly:

“Make me, you bastard.”


It is in the last two paragraphs when she really comes alive. In fact, she takes control, challenges what he thinks of himself, and how he views himself, and how he views her.

Anyhow, so I am left to think, does he really have the balls, or not. This is where I want to know more. I am guessing that he cannot live up to the ideal dominant lover because he tries hard to see her as a little girl, baby, doll, small pre-pubescent tits, which he loves. He seems not comfortable in his own skin to me, once again, self-inflated.

While he does speak the words Wicked Witch to Jen, he has much more respect in his thoughts for the mother, who he refers to as Wendy. After this, I do not recall any derogatory comments about the mother, only about the daughter. One has to wonder if he belittles her because he fears her. He does, once in scene one, refer to her as other than little girl, "mynx."

I took all of this in relation to Jen's character. Her mother as the wicked witch, just draws my attention to the Wizard of Oz: Jen's desire to figuratively leave home, feeling dissatisfied with home life, her telling him she has more inside than her conservative appearance, aligns her with the story of Dorothy to me.

Now, I say this about her character and it is just a guess from what little I have gathered because of all the references to illusion/magic, and to my immediate association of the label wicked witch. But there is not enough symbolic evidence to support this.

In any case, she is a young girl, searching for happiness, thinking the illusionist has the answers, otherwise she would not be with him.

We are left without the answer to this question: is he or is he not dominant. Will he rape her, take her or is his manliness a facade.

These are the images which filled me in reading your work. Sorry I cannot offer more than that.

Last edited by CharleyH : 12-12-2004 at 04:20 PM.
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Old 12-12-2004, 05:55 PM   #5
Den Sel
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Thanks once more

I have no answers other than to say that real people are not black/white, they have contradictions and inconsistencies. That is the kind of characters I am trying to portray. And to leave enough (but not too much) mystery for the reader to let his/her imagination come alive.

Oh, and remember that this is told from the male protag's perspective. So, the reader is supposed to get some of the narrator's lack of awareness of his own failings (oh, how much clearer things are from the outside) and his misconceptions about Jen (and hence his surprise and perhaps miscalculations at certain points).

It should get much sharper in another year or so. I am in no hurry.

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Old 12-12-2004, 06:06 PM   #6
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PS

Oh, and the sex scene IS finished (I think). This is how it ends. I can't see how any continuation of the sex scene per se can avoid to be anticlimactic. At least half a dozen attempted continuations have failed to be more than mop-ups. If/when the story continues, the answer should be given through the characters' subsequent behavior towards each other. If it doesn't, I'll feel happy with thinking that, after all that back and forth, the guy is caught flatfooted and at a (momentary?) loss. Give the girl credit. She has her act together.
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Old 12-12-2004, 07:02 PM   #7
CharleyH
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Re: PS

Quote:
Originally posted by Den Sel
Oh, and the sex scene IS finished (I think). This is how it ends. I can't see how any continuation of the sex scene per se can avoid to be anticlimactic. At least half a dozen attempted continuations have failed to be more than mop-ups. If/when the story continues, the answer should be given through the characters' subsequent behavior towards each other. If it doesn't, I'll feel happy with thinking that, after all that back and forth, the guy is caught flatfooted and at a (momentary?) loss. Give the girl credit. She has her act together.
I see the characters as quite complex with many contradictions, particularly him. I like that about the characterizations, but I have not done a line by line, nor read the rest, and so can't articulate the deeper complexities that I see. It is obvious that she is more together than he is, in my opinion.

Like I said, this is my reading, an overview from what is currently here, and as you mention, there is a greater context. Personally, I don't require a tidy ending. I read many plays and stories that are anti-climatic. So, it works for me as long as everything prior works up to it. At the end of these scenes, I am left with questions, and I am more than happy to be left with them. (with the asforementioned in mind).

Yet, like you have said, these are two unfinished scenes in a larger work. I have no judgement, just my observation in order to let you know how I experience this one piece of your larger work.

You say: the sex scene IS finished (I think).

What is it that you are not certain about? It may be an added question to direct to other reviewers.
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Old 12-31-2004, 06:35 PM   #8
Penelope Street
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Interesting story. I confess I didn't think that much of it at first, but I loved the ending and, after sleeping on it, I think there is much merit to the piece, especially considering it is in a draft state.

As for the direct questions:

1) The 1st scene is in past tense and the 2nd in present. Is the switch jarring? I could put the 1st one in present tense too but it simply doesn't read as well IMO.

I wouldn't go so far as to call it jarring. Maybe awkward, but it really didn't bother me at all, especially if the second scene is the end of the story.

2) Any comments on dialogue or characterization?

I liked the dialogue. Good characterization for a work of this length. Even so, I can't say I really identified with either character. For me, Jen is the more interesting of the two. Most interesting is her reasons for seeing the narrator.
The classic reason a coed dates a professor is because women want respect and younger men are selfish pricks, while older men have become true gentlemen. Both characters break this stereotype- he's not a gentleman and she doesn't want one. Refreshing, that.

3) I am aware that there is no point to the story, no quest, no conflict, no resolution. I see it as a weakness. How big is it?

I am not sure I agree there is no conflict, etc. You did introduce the conflict between mother and daughter, then more or less ignored it; Then you inject a bigger conflict at the end. The issue is not that there is no conflict, the issue is that the conflict presented is not resolved. So, yeah, that's a pretty significant weakness- or a fantastic strength, depending upon whether the reader likes open endings.

4) Any other comments welcome. And I won't bitch about anything. Promise.

Regarding my other thoughts, I may as well get the harshest one out of the way first, even if it may be that I am the one doing the bitching: Had this tale not been part of SDC, I most likely would have abandoned it somewhere within paragraph containing the description of the billiards at Jullian's.

Even though the narrator soon admits it's a digress, I would not have read that far. Bear in mind I'm a fickle reader and I'll bail on a story in less than a heartbeat. Most stories I start I do not read past three paragraphs. I liked the opening- his biting her neck, the bitching about mom, all of it piqued my curiosity.

But then there's the restaurant scene, what is that about? For me, the scene begged to be skimmed. Did I just not get it? And the waiter, his lewd comment seems most out of professional character, unless the narrator put him up to it with some cash.

The erotic scene is good. This could be one of those few stories where such an isolated sex scene works. The way the couple interacted said a lot about who they were. Not that I liked either of them, but at least I started to get a hint or two about what made them tick. Even though I think it lessens the arousal potential for the reader, I enjoyed the fast pace; it conveyed the couple's mounting arousal well.

Regarding minor style issues,
I notice a few places there are little add-on sentences that I believe are unnecessary.
> She was definitely [positively] miffed.
> I finished philosophically.
> I assured her playfully.
> he repeated approvingly.
You did such a fine job in the dialogue, I'm confident you can skip these.

Similarly for the tacked on adverb in these instances and a few others:
> Our mouths join and our tongues attack each other mercilessly
> he added melancholically [sadly]
> she says [urges me] dreamily
> Jen looks at me coolly and says flatly
Again, I think the dialogue and other context hints say enough about the tone to make the adverb redundant.

A minor nit, but I love conversations:
> ... asked what the plan was for the night.
Why skip explicit dialogue here in the midst of a conversation?

> I don’t know what this common culture of big-breast love is all about, but I don’t hold with it...
Excellent. I applaud breaking any stereotype. Different is good.

> I pull off her panties, her arousal invading my nostrils, and her trimmed pussy sits exposed ...
I thought this was an exquisite paragraph!

> All that time Jen and I saw each other, I never got [Jen and I have been together, I have not gotten] enough of her screaming. It was [is] so unique, so exhilarating, so satisfying. She said she didn’t [she says she doesn’t] know why, but she would often scream [she often screams] her lungs out during sex.

I think the above paragraph interrupts without adding much of value- certainly not anything worth breaking the flow of the scene. I'd rather know more about what Jen's screams sound like, some animal perhaps?

> We’ve played this game in many variations before, but tonight Jen surprises me. I look into those green eyes and I almost recoil. Because I don’t see there the Jen I know. What I see is some strange otherworldly sprite, radiating loathing and greed and pure animal lust. That Jen looks at me coolly and says flatly:
> "Make me, you bastard."
Oooh. Now this is nice. Pity I would have missed it had I not read past the billiard bit.
Where do you go from here? So many possibilities.
My belief is he doesn't have the spine for it;
His days as the dominant are over, hers have just begun.
That's the breauty of an ending like this, it can be whatever the reader wants.


Regarding the other two comments to date:

I am always amazed how Charley can read the same piece as me and come away with a different, yet entirely valid, take on the subject. Perhaps I am jealous, but her attention to detail is amazing; proving once again that, as a reader, she lacks absolutely nothing.

If I called the good Doctor a softie, I hope he would take it as a compliment, I would certainly mean it as one. I think he and I are of a mind regarding many things, including happy endings. Not only did I also dislike the narrator; I despised him to the point where I was willing to think Jen turning the tables on his smug ass was a happy ending.


Again- interesting, even intriguing, piece; and that's given that I favor longer, slower, more elaborate tales; plus I could not identify with either character.

Is this part of a work to be expanded? I'm not sure it needs to be; it has a pleasant crispness in its brevity. The more I think about it, the more I like it ending just as it is. Did I say that already? Perhaps, but if so, it was worth repeating.

Take Care,
Penny
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Old 01-05-2005, 02:35 AM   #9
Den Sel
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Happy New Year to all

Just got back from vacation and am peeking in for the first time in about 3 weeks.

Again many thanks for your comments and suggestions. All much appreciated.

The restaurant scene needs work. One of the aims of that scene was to bring out the exhibinionistic element of the two protags' competitive play. Apparently it failed in doing that. So, the restaurant scene will get serious work.

The "mom" angle needs more meat. Now, that's harder. Ideally, I'd like to introduce a separate scene between mom and Jen to flesh that out. Plus some additional background or perhaps interaction between Jen and the narrator on this issue. But I would also need some sort of resolution and I don't have one yet. That's all if the piece is part of a longer story. If it is to be kept short, additional scenes are a no-no.

The ending. In a longer story, there would be follow-up (different directions possible) to resolve both the mom/Jen conflict and the Jen/narrator interaction. As a short piece, the ending is intentionally left hanging. There still exist certain intriguing possibilities for a short expansion though. One with which I've been toying (not seriously) involves a final very short scene with the narrator in court, being arraigned for slitting Jen's throat.
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Old 01-15-2005, 10:31 PM   #10
jimhawkins
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I thought about this story and the other comments posted above and would offer my own and again as it says at the side I’m a virgin at this sort of thing so what I say may not be right.
First to answer the questions
1) The 1st scene is in past tense and the 2nd in present. Is the switch jarring? I could put the 1st one in present tense too but it simply doesn't read as well IMO.

no, not jarring but maybe as Penny says awkward, perhaps one solution is for some introductory words expaining the narrator is remembering this scene.. But that then leads to other problems such as where is he while remembering and why is he doing so. But there may be some room to link the two existing scenes and maybe more scenes together by his recollections

2) Any comments on dialogue or characterization?

Like Penny I liked the dialogue but the charectorisation left me a bit. Why is she doing this? The man seems a rather nasty person. Does she want this snobby, rude man who treats her poorly and tries to exhibit his power over her in the restaurant (mind you she seems to like it)?
Is he in fact Dom or is he a wannabe (I have almost no experience in “the lifestyle”- not surprising for a Christian schoolteacher in a small New Zealand city – but it seems to me the wannabe Doms are often the rude ones; true Doms can control and be polite at all times)?

3) I am aware that there is no point to the story, no quest, no conflict, no resolution. I see it as a weakness. How big is it?

I think it is a weakness but its one that can be overcome. There are two conflicts: Mother and daughter (and possibly narrator and mother- I’ll come back to that) and the final paragraph narrator and daughter. I think they can be developed and the story would be better.

4) Any other comments welcome. And I won't bitch about anything. Promise.

my other comments are under your own headings.
The restaurant scene needs work. Yes it does and may I suggest that if you are going to write it as a recollection three things (in addition to where and why is he remembering).
1 You could work on his reactions to what goes on from the “clinginess” (which you start to develop a bit), through why does he associate with a “clueless baby” (it would be disappointing to find its just sex) and the waiter part and so on.

2 the part with the waiter needs to be tidied up.

3 the section which you say is meant to be exhibitionist seems at least to me to be just another example of him being nasty and ill mannered. Perhaps Penny is right thats one of the attractions he has for her but if so then that too can be brought out more
The "mom" angle needs more meat. I'd like the extra scene e scene between mom and Jen to flesh that out and one with narrator and Mother too- does she get jealous of her daughter (here’s to you Mrs. Robinson)

The ending. Well slitting a throat may be a bit wild …the narrator sounds more like the weak person who would create a phony suicide pact (and if you want ideas about that then may I suggest you read A N Wilson “Gods Funeral” page 292-4 where he sets out how Karl Marx’s daughter died in one. In fact read the whole book its fascinating and A N Wilson is an excellent writer

Last edited by jimhawkins : 01-16-2005 at 03:16 AM.
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