goalie31
Really Experienced
- Joined
- May 25, 2009
- Posts
- 236
Living History of an Affair (Open - 1M/1F)
Be easy on me, I’m biology major. I can’t remember what English classes I even took in college. LOL
This is the very long setup for a roleplay idea I had. I have a few ideas like this that float around my head. I was finally able to wrangle one into something coherent. This story inexperienced older man’s sexual exploration with a younger woman with a mythical historical subplot.
I like developing the background leaving most, if not all of the pieces for the roleplay going forward. I feel that I’m not that good at writing the character development, relationship development and sex scenes beyond the setup phase. Plus, I’d rather step back and sit in the audience while some more talented folks play out what I started.
So, I’m looking for someone (male or female) who has a strong interest in this story line and would want to continue it in a roleplay. I just want to have a hand in picking who I hand it off too. That is, only if there is more that one person interested, which would be a great compliment by might be unlikely. After that, that person can pick whomever they choose as a partner. Then, away you go! I’ll sit back and enjoy. You won’t hear anything from me, but compliments.
If you are interested, PM me.
Living History of an Affair
Gordon Tracy has the elements of life that would make him the toast of any setting. Born into the Tracy family’s century old accumulation of wealth with roots in multiple industries. Their fortune could finance a moderate sized nation. His life has the appearance of easy coming and going. But, in his youth he was shuffled to one international boarding school to the next as he followed his family’s shipping empire expansion dealings. His brief time with family was tortured due to his stern and cold parents who took too well to the aristocratic lifestyle. He never was able to come to terms with any one culture he was exposed to. He saw the best in others because others only saw the worst in him. He was a short, wispy thin, pale boy with long, curly, dark brown hair that appeared too much for his small head. He was athletic, and he needed to be to avoid each exotic locales resident bully. He was afflicted by a stutter that only now at the age of 46 is under control. The exception being when he is too overwhelmed by a situation that requires his mental focus be directed elsewhere. The better parts of his life mostly involved his older brother Allen. He had a rambunctious and rebellious way about him. Gordon firmly believed that he was put on this earth solely to paint. Allen had natural talent and he studied the craft in addition. He involved Gordon to the point that he received a master’s level education in art and a deep seeded love for it. He admired from afar Allen’s ability to socialize and woo women. He could party and do death-defying things and not find enough of an adrenaline high. That would be his downfall and the snuffing out of untapped artistic grace. He died in a fiery car crash as he drove off a cliff taking a hairpin turn too fast in the scenic French countryside with another one of his paramours.
Gordon grew up to live a lifestyle not becoming of his vast means. He was humble beyond what his status would predict. After a bitter conflict with his parents, he pursued the study of art and history of ancient society in France and then England. He barely escaped his family without being disowned. His greedy cousins were more than happy to wait in the wings to take over his father’s business for a nominal cut of his inheritance, which was a small price to pay for intellectual freedom. Gordon made a name for himself beyond his family’s clout as the premier resource for information on art. He helped curate the finest museums of the world. He authenticated what would become some of the most expensive pieces of art in the world. He owned prestigious auction houses. He also developed and funded art programs for youth around the world. He was the art world’s own Rockefeller in that way.
Despite his good nature, wealth, acclaim, and reasonable good looks, Gordon was a recluse. Allen had been the only one close to him that encouraged him to interact and explore. Without him he was lost and receded to old tendencies for the rest of his life. He had strictly professional relationships, which he could maintain to his liking with affable wit, humor, and generosity. But, he would never let anyone get too close. He certainly did not embark on any romantic relationships. Since he was an adolescent he could not look a female in the face and certainly could not talk due to his fear of stuttering. Again his intellectual charm was enough to compensate for the peculiarity of his social behavior. At his spacious but not ostentatious home, behind the closed doors, and then another set of doors, and for good measure, a third set of doors he would sit day after day among his paramours. Four walls of portraits he has collected from various artists from various time periods through his auction houses. Each with a face that conveyed a mood to compliment his at that particular time and a background he could conjure to give him company at that moment. No one knew of this room, not even the live-in butler or maid. This was enough intimate company for him. It spared him anxiety and pain. Though, in the back of his mind he knew there was more that he was missing.
That gnawing thought in the back of his mind and his art and history passion would unexpectedly collide and change his life. After consulting for the development of an interactive renaissance art collection at the Louvre, he was invited for a private tour. As the museum director greeted him, young women approached them. For the first time Gordon was able to look a woman in the face and greet her. This was not necessarily because of a miraculous instantaneous personal breakthrough. Rather, he had seen this woman before. Not her in the truest sense and not her in the flesh, but he has seen her very likeness. Her face graces the pages of a historical text in his secret room and her history would change Gordon’s past, present and future.
Around the same time the Kama Sutra was being compiled around 400 BC, a Persian text, the Golam, also based on human sexual practices, but in a different context and tone, was also being written. As Sparta and the Persians were at war, Naser, a Persian religious leader and confidant to King Homayoon was at war with his vow of celibacy. Naser was taken by the sight, sound and aura of one of King Homayoon’s harem concubines, Rasa. Rasa’s appearance exuded a sultry and playful vibe. Coupled with her sensual skin, mesmerizing curves and fiery eyes, it is no doubt why the King offered her peasant farming parents a fortune that would ensure the livelihood of their other 6 children. Rasa, was willing to sacrifice herself for her family, but was secretly enamored with the vibrant city center life at the capital, despite the subjugation waiting there. She was sure she would find a way to make the respectable life she wanted over time.
The King’s wife to selected Rasa to be her “gift” to him on his 46th birthday. During the festivities Naser and Rasa struck up a conversation based on their personal melancholy. Naser bound by celibacy and serving a demanding and cunning king, and Rasa trapped in the harem. Rasa had been educated in the ways of sex by some of the magnanimous harem women. Naser was more than willing to listen and discuss. With both living a life that they were merely enduring at that point, their time together was a light in the darkest of times. What followed was a torrid love affair. Naser wrote a diary after each encounter with the help of Rasa by his side. They documented their sensual preludes and carnal experimentations in as honest and explicit detail as the Farsi language allowed. Naser, during the day would illustrate for the diary in great detail, especially Rasa’s face and figure, for his own entertainment and as a token of his feelings for Rasa. Their tale is one of mystery, though, not necessarily drama. They were never found out and they never reached the stage were they would make a bold move on their relationship. The last page of the text is a portrait of Rasa drawn from memory and a caption that roughly translates to “swept away to the heavens.” She was simply gone after their romantic rendezvous the night before. There were no indications to Naser that hinted that she would be leaving imminently. All investigative efforts were futile. So Naser tucked the Golam away, reminiscing over it weekly for the rest of his life. Whilst on his deathbed he asked a servant girl to retrieve it from his secret hiding place. He wept over it one more time, but this time due to the hope that they would be reunited somehow after death. He swore the servant girl to secrecy and had her hid it in its place again. History would show that the servant girl kept her word, as the text would not see the light of day until 1970. The palace was a tourist attraction that had been combed through and through. Nature would have a hand in its discovery as crack developed in Naser’s sleeping quarter’s wall after heavy rain disrupted the grounds stability. In examining the wall, the restoration specialist realized that the if the block below the one with the crack was pushed forcibly by leaning, the block to the left would protrude 3-4 inches. The block still looked nondescript despite the fascinating movement. Only because the specialist looked from below out of curiosity did he see fabric supporting something inside, as he undid the fabric netting looped into rings nailed into the block, an item appeared. The gap was just big enough for his thin small hand to venture through and pull the Golam out. The specialist kept it for himself because of the tantalizing explicit images, without any word to another soul. It went through two other rich collectors via auction upon each of their deaths. In what seems now to be a predestined coincidence Gordon was keeping a watchful eye at his auction house for beautiful female portraits to keep for himself. When the Golam came to auction that very day in 2002, he was intrigued. He, like any other man, despite his reclusiveness and peculiarities, was infatuated by sex. He chose to engage himself through enjoying portraits. But, this book was more explicit, but it had a pull. So he competed neck and neck with a handful of other flush merchants. At a price of $80,000 he had his object of unexplained deep longing.
Over the coming years he poured his energy into deciphering the book on his own. He took it upon himself to learn Farsi. He only rarely asked scholars he was acquainted with for help translating; even then he did so surreptitiously. After three years, he knew every page in exquisite detail, both the literal text and the emotion in between the lines. The story was an exhilarating immersion into something he had never experienced but always wanted deep down. He yearned to live by the emotion and experiences in that text.
Now, here he was feeling that same exhilaration looking into the face of the 26-year-old Leila, the prodigious and talented new hire for assistant manager of acquisitions at the Louvre. She would be co-leading this tour. He stuttered a barely audible greeting to her. These days, he stuttered when he was under immense stress or was in pain. This was a moment or opportunity that required all his mental effort, lest he let it slip by. He had an eerie feeling about the historical connection between Leila and the Golam. Deep inside, his urges and passion, flickering most of his life and emblazoned over the past 3 years, needed to be shared. The book provided the passionate story he wanted to bring to life. By some cosmic destiny spanning ages of history, Laila was that person to be his partner in this new chapter. But, he felt the immense weight of actually having to get over his hang-ups in order to interact with her. Leila’s obliviousness to her history, but open-mindedness and caring personality would be the missing element.
Be easy on me, I’m biology major. I can’t remember what English classes I even took in college. LOL
This is the very long setup for a roleplay idea I had. I have a few ideas like this that float around my head. I was finally able to wrangle one into something coherent. This story inexperienced older man’s sexual exploration with a younger woman with a mythical historical subplot.
I like developing the background leaving most, if not all of the pieces for the roleplay going forward. I feel that I’m not that good at writing the character development, relationship development and sex scenes beyond the setup phase. Plus, I’d rather step back and sit in the audience while some more talented folks play out what I started.
So, I’m looking for someone (male or female) who has a strong interest in this story line and would want to continue it in a roleplay. I just want to have a hand in picking who I hand it off too. That is, only if there is more that one person interested, which would be a great compliment by might be unlikely. After that, that person can pick whomever they choose as a partner. Then, away you go! I’ll sit back and enjoy. You won’t hear anything from me, but compliments.
If you are interested, PM me.
Living History of an Affair
Gordon Tracy has the elements of life that would make him the toast of any setting. Born into the Tracy family’s century old accumulation of wealth with roots in multiple industries. Their fortune could finance a moderate sized nation. His life has the appearance of easy coming and going. But, in his youth he was shuffled to one international boarding school to the next as he followed his family’s shipping empire expansion dealings. His brief time with family was tortured due to his stern and cold parents who took too well to the aristocratic lifestyle. He never was able to come to terms with any one culture he was exposed to. He saw the best in others because others only saw the worst in him. He was a short, wispy thin, pale boy with long, curly, dark brown hair that appeared too much for his small head. He was athletic, and he needed to be to avoid each exotic locales resident bully. He was afflicted by a stutter that only now at the age of 46 is under control. The exception being when he is too overwhelmed by a situation that requires his mental focus be directed elsewhere. The better parts of his life mostly involved his older brother Allen. He had a rambunctious and rebellious way about him. Gordon firmly believed that he was put on this earth solely to paint. Allen had natural talent and he studied the craft in addition. He involved Gordon to the point that he received a master’s level education in art and a deep seeded love for it. He admired from afar Allen’s ability to socialize and woo women. He could party and do death-defying things and not find enough of an adrenaline high. That would be his downfall and the snuffing out of untapped artistic grace. He died in a fiery car crash as he drove off a cliff taking a hairpin turn too fast in the scenic French countryside with another one of his paramours.
Gordon grew up to live a lifestyle not becoming of his vast means. He was humble beyond what his status would predict. After a bitter conflict with his parents, he pursued the study of art and history of ancient society in France and then England. He barely escaped his family without being disowned. His greedy cousins were more than happy to wait in the wings to take over his father’s business for a nominal cut of his inheritance, which was a small price to pay for intellectual freedom. Gordon made a name for himself beyond his family’s clout as the premier resource for information on art. He helped curate the finest museums of the world. He authenticated what would become some of the most expensive pieces of art in the world. He owned prestigious auction houses. He also developed and funded art programs for youth around the world. He was the art world’s own Rockefeller in that way.
Despite his good nature, wealth, acclaim, and reasonable good looks, Gordon was a recluse. Allen had been the only one close to him that encouraged him to interact and explore. Without him he was lost and receded to old tendencies for the rest of his life. He had strictly professional relationships, which he could maintain to his liking with affable wit, humor, and generosity. But, he would never let anyone get too close. He certainly did not embark on any romantic relationships. Since he was an adolescent he could not look a female in the face and certainly could not talk due to his fear of stuttering. Again his intellectual charm was enough to compensate for the peculiarity of his social behavior. At his spacious but not ostentatious home, behind the closed doors, and then another set of doors, and for good measure, a third set of doors he would sit day after day among his paramours. Four walls of portraits he has collected from various artists from various time periods through his auction houses. Each with a face that conveyed a mood to compliment his at that particular time and a background he could conjure to give him company at that moment. No one knew of this room, not even the live-in butler or maid. This was enough intimate company for him. It spared him anxiety and pain. Though, in the back of his mind he knew there was more that he was missing.
That gnawing thought in the back of his mind and his art and history passion would unexpectedly collide and change his life. After consulting for the development of an interactive renaissance art collection at the Louvre, he was invited for a private tour. As the museum director greeted him, young women approached them. For the first time Gordon was able to look a woman in the face and greet her. This was not necessarily because of a miraculous instantaneous personal breakthrough. Rather, he had seen this woman before. Not her in the truest sense and not her in the flesh, but he has seen her very likeness. Her face graces the pages of a historical text in his secret room and her history would change Gordon’s past, present and future.
Around the same time the Kama Sutra was being compiled around 400 BC, a Persian text, the Golam, also based on human sexual practices, but in a different context and tone, was also being written. As Sparta and the Persians were at war, Naser, a Persian religious leader and confidant to King Homayoon was at war with his vow of celibacy. Naser was taken by the sight, sound and aura of one of King Homayoon’s harem concubines, Rasa. Rasa’s appearance exuded a sultry and playful vibe. Coupled with her sensual skin, mesmerizing curves and fiery eyes, it is no doubt why the King offered her peasant farming parents a fortune that would ensure the livelihood of their other 6 children. Rasa, was willing to sacrifice herself for her family, but was secretly enamored with the vibrant city center life at the capital, despite the subjugation waiting there. She was sure she would find a way to make the respectable life she wanted over time.
The King’s wife to selected Rasa to be her “gift” to him on his 46th birthday. During the festivities Naser and Rasa struck up a conversation based on their personal melancholy. Naser bound by celibacy and serving a demanding and cunning king, and Rasa trapped in the harem. Rasa had been educated in the ways of sex by some of the magnanimous harem women. Naser was more than willing to listen and discuss. With both living a life that they were merely enduring at that point, their time together was a light in the darkest of times. What followed was a torrid love affair. Naser wrote a diary after each encounter with the help of Rasa by his side. They documented their sensual preludes and carnal experimentations in as honest and explicit detail as the Farsi language allowed. Naser, during the day would illustrate for the diary in great detail, especially Rasa’s face and figure, for his own entertainment and as a token of his feelings for Rasa. Their tale is one of mystery, though, not necessarily drama. They were never found out and they never reached the stage were they would make a bold move on their relationship. The last page of the text is a portrait of Rasa drawn from memory and a caption that roughly translates to “swept away to the heavens.” She was simply gone after their romantic rendezvous the night before. There were no indications to Naser that hinted that she would be leaving imminently. All investigative efforts were futile. So Naser tucked the Golam away, reminiscing over it weekly for the rest of his life. Whilst on his deathbed he asked a servant girl to retrieve it from his secret hiding place. He wept over it one more time, but this time due to the hope that they would be reunited somehow after death. He swore the servant girl to secrecy and had her hid it in its place again. History would show that the servant girl kept her word, as the text would not see the light of day until 1970. The palace was a tourist attraction that had been combed through and through. Nature would have a hand in its discovery as crack developed in Naser’s sleeping quarter’s wall after heavy rain disrupted the grounds stability. In examining the wall, the restoration specialist realized that the if the block below the one with the crack was pushed forcibly by leaning, the block to the left would protrude 3-4 inches. The block still looked nondescript despite the fascinating movement. Only because the specialist looked from below out of curiosity did he see fabric supporting something inside, as he undid the fabric netting looped into rings nailed into the block, an item appeared. The gap was just big enough for his thin small hand to venture through and pull the Golam out. The specialist kept it for himself because of the tantalizing explicit images, without any word to another soul. It went through two other rich collectors via auction upon each of their deaths. In what seems now to be a predestined coincidence Gordon was keeping a watchful eye at his auction house for beautiful female portraits to keep for himself. When the Golam came to auction that very day in 2002, he was intrigued. He, like any other man, despite his reclusiveness and peculiarities, was infatuated by sex. He chose to engage himself through enjoying portraits. But, this book was more explicit, but it had a pull. So he competed neck and neck with a handful of other flush merchants. At a price of $80,000 he had his object of unexplained deep longing.
Over the coming years he poured his energy into deciphering the book on his own. He took it upon himself to learn Farsi. He only rarely asked scholars he was acquainted with for help translating; even then he did so surreptitiously. After three years, he knew every page in exquisite detail, both the literal text and the emotion in between the lines. The story was an exhilarating immersion into something he had never experienced but always wanted deep down. He yearned to live by the emotion and experiences in that text.
Now, here he was feeling that same exhilaration looking into the face of the 26-year-old Leila, the prodigious and talented new hire for assistant manager of acquisitions at the Louvre. She would be co-leading this tour. He stuttered a barely audible greeting to her. These days, he stuttered when he was under immense stress or was in pain. This was a moment or opportunity that required all his mental effort, lest he let it slip by. He had an eerie feeling about the historical connection between Leila and the Golam. Deep inside, his urges and passion, flickering most of his life and emblazoned over the past 3 years, needed to be shared. The book provided the passionate story he wanted to bring to life. By some cosmic destiny spanning ages of history, Laila was that person to be his partner in this new chapter. But, he felt the immense weight of actually having to get over his hang-ups in order to interact with her. Leila’s obliviousness to her history, but open-mindedness and caring personality would be the missing element.
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