100 Words

annaswirls

Pointy?
Joined
Dec 9, 2003
Posts
7,204
A friend of mine writes these 100 word mini flashy prosey story thinggies, and I want to try it out. Perhaps it is just him, but they are some of my favorite things to read right now. Anyone want to play?

I have found my favorite ones are the ones with just a touch of smut, like a ripple of peanut butter through ice cream, a vein of gold in granite or tough tendon through muscle.

He tries to make them exactly 100 words, but I think a +/- 5 variation is acceptable.

I will be back, hopefully with one finished.
 
A cleaver in a moon cleft and a slow sawing action, subliminally carving the soft marshmallow to its bony root. Separating with the blade the spongy globes. Piece by piece I disassemble the saffron coated confection, delicately cupped and nursed in my hands. Musk scented and a delicate flavour spread on the sweep of my tongue. In the heart of the fruit a string of dewy pearls glisten in the half light, the sought after delicacy that is treasured by those, whose luck it is to coax the boughs of this paradise tree to open and separate.
 
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The Pharmacy

Father dropped the OB Superplus tampons onto the counter. The pharmacist casually turned the box in search of the price, as if it were a box of mints, not something that would be up inside mother’s privates. Not even an applicator. Were we all imagining her finger pressing inside like on the folded insert diagram? Did she squat or put one leg up on the toilet?

Lord, then he had to dig into his jeans pocket for money so my gaze just naturally followed and paused at his crotch and I swore right then I was never getting married, ever.


(100 words)
 
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.
 
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.
No wonder they call them stiffs!

This is shockingly naughty, Ms Crewe.
 
okay this settles it. I am starting a new section at mannequin envy dedicated to 100 words.

you all rock and this is exactly my speed.
 
you know anna, these remind me of that funny section in the old reader's digest monthly books (i've no idea if they still exist). they're not complete stories, more like vignettes. very clever.

:rose:
 
I want to cum on your hand...I know nice girls don't say things like that but I am not very nice. I want to feel the skilled poetic fingers you write with sliding under black lace. Stand behind me and touch everything, let me hold your secrets. Let me feel all those discretion's slide into the dark places where they should be. I want to tremble while you whisper vile deviance in my ears and hold me strong against your body. I want to watch and feel you draw every electric pulse from me...touch me.
 
The boy stands proud, erect, fierce, the girl, demure, but wanting. Barely *****teen, they exist only for that sun-spangled moment, in the field, before coming together in haste, cradling, cupping, tasting the sweet flavor of their youth on each other’s lips. Heart to heart they pound against one another, needing only closer, tighter and more! Falling now, tearing, grabbing and thrust they feed one another their love and passion, sinew against sweet curve, fiery strength inside urgent grasp. The sun beats - warm and merciless, like hips and sweat. Rejoicing, the girl releases and in answer, exults the boy.
 
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hungry

Near the end of my walk, I pause to speak with my neighbor. My fat neighbor who nurtures a high-pitched tone, recites for me all her recipes over the phone, and spends her tax refund on snacks. "How you doing?" she asks. "Fine, you?" She tells me she would rather eat rocks than have sex with her husband. She worries he'll cheat on her. For a moment, I think about making that happen. Then I tell her to bite the bullet and give him oral. On the way home, I kick some rocks while she goes to bite the bullet.
 
WickedEve said:
Near the end of my walk, I pause to speak with my neighbor. My fat neighbor who nurtures a high-pitched tone, recites for me all her recipes over the phone, and spends her tax refund on snacks. "How you doing?" she asks. "Fine, you?" She tells me she would rather eat rocks than have sex with her husband. She worries he'll cheat on her. For a moment, I think about making that happen. Then I tell her to bite the bullet and give him oral. On the way home, I kick some rocks while she goes to bite the bullet.

You seemed short a couple of words, but I can't bite the bullet to count them.
My eyes glued to you. I have always said I'd rather see you leaving than
charging ahead. Too much woman for a eldery man. Too much knowledge
for a mindless poet. Too much talent to box in a corner. Knowing what I
know I can't look at you with both eyes at same the time. Seeing so much of my
wife in you and realizing she could get by without a man constantly under
foot. How about we live close by and visit often?
 
sandspike said:
You seemed short a couple of words, but I can't bite the bullet to count them.
My eyes glued to you. I have always said I'd rather see you leaving than
charging ahead. Too much woman for a eldery man. Too much knowledge
for a mindless poet. Too much talent to box in a corner. Knowing what I
know I can't look at you with both eyes at same the time. Seeing so much of my
wife in you and realizing she could get by without a man constantly under
foot. How about we live close by and visit often?
How old is elderly? I adore older men--fifty or sixty--with silver hair. Older men who can still swing their hips and lift me higher. Older men with lines at the corners of their eyes, eyes that watch me from above and move from mine down to my lips, parted. Older men who kiss like younger men. I want an older man who can't run away. One retired with too much time to spend with me. One who is with me day in and day out. And older man who is suffocating me. Get a job or something already!



:D I really do like older men.
 
WickedEve said:
How old is elderly? I adore older men--fifty or sixty--with silver hair. Older men who can still swing their hips and lift me higher. Older men with lines at the corners of their eyes, eyes that watch me from above and move from mine down to my lips, parted. Older men who kiss like younger men. I want an older man who can't run away. One retired with too much time to spend with me. One who is with me day in and day out. And older man who is suffocating me. Get a job or something already!



:D I really do like older men.

I'm with you baby girl ;) but 50 is a bit young. And when I read you, I thought you said- older men who kiss younger men and that got my mind running in circles so fast my brain turned to butter.

ps your av is completely unfair. I am going to sulk and maybe do some leg lifts and look for some online butt exercize tutorials
 
Any higher and I'll be afraid when your knees buckle in that harsh-breathed moment of zero brain activity. Your legs spread, just enough that my ankles, locked against the small of your back, hold me at the perfect angle. Stroke me while I whisper dirty directions in your ear.
"Fuck me. Yes! Oh, yes. Don't stop now." Don't quit while my pussy's squealing and I'm having fun. A flex of muscle and a coo of happy incoherence, enough to bring us to where no one cares how far the fall and hard the landing.
 
WickedEve said:
How old is elderly? I adore older men--fifty or sixty--with silver hair. Older men who can still swing their hips and lift me higher. Older men with lines at the corners of their eyes, eyes that watch me from above and move from mine down to my lips, parted. Older men who kiss like younger men. I want an older man who can't run away. One retired with too much time to spend with me. One who is with me day in and day out. And older man who is suffocating me. Get a job or something already!



:D I really do like older men.

Check your watch young lady. It is after seven PM Eastern Standard Time.
I've done more today in a work atmosphere than I care too mention.
It's only the end of your exit that really gets my attention. The way you
leave room with all heads turned. The bounce of each ounce of walking
heaven sailing away with our tongues running behind. I speak for lovers
of the wicked who dream on sunny days after cashing in their pensions
just to see a smile from the fox with all the gumdrops. The poet with
words and pictures and a great ending. :cool:
 
I search the closet for the suitcase she needs right now, knowing this has everything to do with baggage and nothing to do with luggage. She needs to pack her emotions under practical pants and her funeral suit. When they are all zipped shut she can pretend everything will be fine. He's not even dead yet I said to her. The silence spanked me like I was five years old so like a good daughter I went to the closet. I'm sure all my skeletons are snickering at me and I would fucking kill them if they weren't already dead.
 
sandspike said:
Check your watch young lady. It is after seven PM Eastern Standard Time.
I've done more today in a work atmosphere than I care too mention.
It's only the end of your exit that really gets my attention. The way you
leave room with all heads turned. The bounce of each ounce of walking
heaven sailing away with our tongues running behind. I speak for lovers
of the wicked who dream on sunny days after cashing in their pensions
just to see a smile from the fox with all the gumdrops. The poet with
words and pictures and a great ending. :cool:
I found the man in the old poet's home, a sonnet drooling from the corner of his mouth and down his unshaven chin. I offered a hanky, but he declined. He wanted to let it drip, let it flow naturally and pool in his lap. He beckoned me to come closer, to lean over and watch his verse take shape. Word by word it grew, lines stacked atop each other. I watched him erect his poetry up from the foundation of soft flannel and crumbs. Then he requested that I close my eyes and read him like a dirty, dog-eared book.
 
WickedEve said:
I found the man in the old poet's home, a sonnet drooling from the corner of his mouth and down his unshaven chin. I offered a hanky, but he declined. He wanted to let it drip, let it flow naturally and pool in his lap. He beckoned me to come closer, to lean over and watch his verse take shape. Word by word it grew, lines stacked atop each other. I watched him erect his poetry up from the foundation of soft flannel and crumbs. Then he requested that I close my eyes and read him like a dirty, dog-eared book.

I'm not even an old man and I think that is too freakin' good. :)
 
annaswirls said:
I'm with you baby girl ;) but 50 is a bit young. And when I read you, I thought you said- older men who kiss younger men and that got my mind running in circles so fast my brain turned to butter.

ps your av is completely unfair. I am going to sulk and maybe do some leg lifts and look for some online butt exercize tutorials
My Master will be 60 this Fall and he's kind of whining about it in his own manly way. For the past year I've heard, "You know I won't be around forever. I'm so much older than you are. One day I'll be gone, and I want you to get a man who treats you right, because I'm not going to be around too much longer." I hear this about once a week. :rolleyes:
I took the photo of my butt this morning. I have pretty good butt and legs because I walk most every day. But once you get up past the butt, I have problem areas. I can't afford liposuction, so I'm considering using my vacuum.
 
Just so you know

You raised your eyes once too often to say you're just interested in the bananas behind me. I want to eat one right there in front of you and watch your hunger move past food. You assume you can't walk up to me, dump me in your grocery cart and push us behind the swinging doors. Find a flatbed and fuck me till I screamed louder than the garbage compactor, the backdoor alarm and we could both pray to Jesus, God and any other deity who wanted to watch us. You could have though because it was on my list.
 
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