Transportation Challenge - Group A

[minsue]

If you would like your entry to be included in the collection submitted to Lit, please go to Imp's opt in thread.

Guesses only on this thread, please. Please continue to post any discussions to this thread.

Deadline for guesses is noon GMT on MONDAY.

The authors are listed below. There is one wild card.

• amicus
• angelicminx
• champagne1982
• ChilledVodkaIV
• femininity
• impressive
• Lauren Hynde
• Munachi
• neonlyte
• Nirvanadragones
• Penelope Street
• rachlou
• SimonBrooke
• Varian P
• vella_ms

NOTE TO ALL: If there are any broken links please post the correct one somewhere so that we can get it all straightened out.

Many thanks to champagne1982 for the links!

 

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1 - Neonlyte

Isabella smiled inwardly at the shyness of the question, “I’m an environmental terrorist,” deliberately not telling him what he wanted to know, he’d have to try harder than that.

“Ahh… that explains the attack this morning. Actually, remembering that, I’m not sure you deserve that apricot tart.”

“But you forget, Philip, I’ve still got the bag.”

“I’m sorry, I forgot… I shouldn’t have let you carry it. Pass it to me.”

“Nah… just guarding what’s mine. Hope you’ve a picnic in here, I’m hungry.”

“Baguette, couple of apples, water. We’ll share. So… where is your boyfriend, here or Renne?”

Isabella, skipped in front of me, walking backward, watching me intently her dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

“The position is temporarily vacant. Why? Are you thinking of applying?”

I laughed, realising that actually it was the only thing I really wanted to know, “Why? Would you like me to?”

“That’s not fair, Philip! You’re not supposed to answer a question with another question.

We walked through Porte St Pierre, both blinking in the sudden brightness of the sun. “Ok, I’ll think about it. See what sort of a crew you might make.”

“Don’t be horrible. What time is it?”

“About one o’clock, why?”

“I’ll make it easy for you… twelve hours. I’ll keep the vacancy open for you for the next twelve hours.”

“Just like that.”

“Doesn’t guarantee anything, haven’t said I’ll say yes. Anyway I want to see what sort of skipper you are first. Jacques!” She shouted, frantically waving.

I watched her run a few paces down the ramp to the guy who runs the Sailing School and throw herself in his arms, giving him what looked, for all the world to be a passionate kiss. I felt foolishly jealous.

“Bonjour Philip,” Jacques said, shaking my hand, “is Izzy taking you sailing?”

“Jacque! Don’t call me Izzy. Philip wants to be my boyfriend,” she said, matter-of-factly, as if I wasn’t there, “I’m going to try him out on the water first, see if he’s any good. What do you think?”

“It’s not promising Izzy,” Jacque answered with a deadpan face, stepping back out of blow range, “he only hired a Wayfarer.” He wrinkled his face and waved his hands in that the way of suggesting ‘dodgy’.

Isabella turned to me hands on hips, “A Wayfarer… huh. Not a good start, Philip, not good at all.” She passed me the backpack. “Come on Jacque, let’s get a Cat rigged, then Philip and I can have some fun.”

She set off for the storeroom, with surprising long strides to bring sails, Jacques turned to me laughing, “don’t worry Philip, she’s the best female sailor in St Malo, not counting our adopted daughter Ellen MacArthur. Izzy is completely crazy, but she won’t let you drown.”

 

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2 - Champagne1982

The bus smelled like dirty socks drying out on a heat register. Dani followed Joey down the aisle to the back bench seat. Thankfully, the one a.m. bus to Denver wasn't crowded. Their fellow travelers were four guys who looked like they were at the end of a long ski week and an older lady who looked liked she was settled in for a journey across the country, her nest was that feathered.

As soon as Dani slid in against the window, Joey unpacked their heavy cotton throw and brought it up over them. His lips pressed to her temple and she felt more than heard his whisper, "Sleep, sweetheart. We'll be alright." She murmured something back about loving him before nestling against his shoulder and dozing off.

Dani came up out of slumber as a warm hand squeezed her breast and another slipped over her jeans, up along her inner thigh, pressing the seam up against her crease. She turned and reached down inside the loose band of Joey's jeans. His cock was hot, jerking at the brush of her fingers. The bus tires could be heard schussing over the pavement and the rattle of its diesel engine assured them that they wouldn't be heard by anyone not listening for fuck noises.

Her jeans were an inconvenience soon bundled up in the corner; Joey's fingers were free to wiggle inside her wet, cock-hungry pussy. She made lots of lubrication and soon it was slathered thickly onto her outer lips. Joey pulled her hips against him eagerly sliding between her lips so that his shaft was sandwiched along her slit. Dani rocked her round ass back and then forward to move the bulb of his head to her opening.

They both growled when he pressed up into her. She took half his length on the first thrust; he pulled back, relishing the sweet suction of her sheath letting him go. His fingers reached in front of her and found her clit, lightly circling around the hard button. Dani's pussy always got so swollen when she fucked.

Again he moved up into her. This time his long cock met little resistance. Dani rolled her ass and took him fully up. She loved the act of penetration better than any other part of sex. Her pussy was ready for fucking so quickly, sometimes Joey didn't need to even touch her. Now, though, he was touching her exactly where she wanted it, nudging her cervix and stretching her lips round tight until her clit massaged his thick length with every stroke.

They fucked, slow and sensually, barely noticeable beneath the blanket. Their rustling seemed like nothing more than two sleepers finding a comfortable position in a very uncomfortable place. Soon enough, their moans and muffled shout of completion drifted up the aisle, past the sloshing of the chemical well of the toilet and teased the ears of four sleeping skiers and one envious old woman. The Denver express rolled on.

 

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3 - ChilledVodkaIV

The bicycle.

Kresmire pulled on his old boots when he heard about his friend and made his way to the shed in the yard. Another flake of sun worn green paint fell from the door when he screaked it open. In the gloom amongst the spiders he lifted the saddle of the bike to raise the rear wheel and gave the pedal a push to confirm its mechanical fortuity.

About half way down the rutted track that led through the dappled copse at the very edge of his land he became weary. He had finally outlived his bicycle's usefulness and was welcoming of the downward gradient towards the bushes and the fearns, the saplings and hedgerows.

After some time he arrived at his friend's house and immediately made him a present of the bicycle denying oaths and curses, promises and platitudes by way of polite refusal of his generosity.

"It is a gift." He told his friend. "You have no bicycle and much need, I have no need and am loath to let it rust."

His friend thanked him and enquired what he might give in return.

"What you may give," explained Kresmire "is usage. It is a fine machine and deserves to be ridden. I know that you will ride it."

Later that evening Kresmire was pleased that his friend offered to walk home with him through the gathering shade. "It is not a problem. I shall bring with me my new bicycle and be home before first twinkle of the goddess."

Kresmire smiled at his friend's happiness and knew that his wife would berate him for his foolishness in taking a smile as payment.

 

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4 - SimonBrooke

The Beach

It's our beach. At least, it's my uncle's beach, and its private. In
summer it is my beach; no-one else comes here. No-one else can,
because of the cliffs. It's boring at my uncle's, there's nothing to
do, nobody my age. But I have the beach... I love the beach, and the sun.

As I went down to swim that morning, I saw the boat from the top of
the cliff. I was angry. It's my beach. And when I got down, I asked
him what he was doing there. He just ignored me, ignorant peasant. I
went to swim.

-----

It was about ten past three in the morning when the boat struck the
crate. I checked below; she'd started a seam forward, and was making
a lot of water. On the chart, there was an island to leeward. The
coast looked bad, but there were some inlets marked as sandy. It was
the best I could do; she wouldn't make port.

I beached close to high water, and by nine o'clock I'd replaced the
fastenings and was recaulking the seam. Then this girl came. I didn't
understand what she said, but I didn't like her tone. I ignored her.

-----

Even when I was swimming I could see his beastly boat, lying untidily
on my beach. It made me angry. It made me angrier that he had ignored
me - in my smallest bikini. And that annoyed me too; on my beach, I'm
nude. With him there, I couldn't be.

After I had swum I went over to him. He was doing something to the
boat, low down. I spoke to him; he didn't look up. I stood in his
light; he still didn't look up. In the end I took my top off and wrung
it out over him.

-----

I lost my temper. I threw my tools down, and got up. I shouted at
her. She looked scared; she turned and ran, and I chased her. I don't
think I meant to rape her, not then. I was just angry. I grabbed for
her, and caught her by her bikini pants - they were all she was
wearing. They ripped, we both stumbled. She got up again and ran, but
I saw she was trapped by the cliffs.

I took off my belt. I only meant to hit her with it. I don't think I
meant to rape her.

-----

He came quite slowly, his belt swinging in his hand. I was frightened;
there was nowhere to run. I tried to apologise, but he didn't
understand me. He kept on coming. I'd never been naked with a man
before.

I walked backwards until there wasn't anywhere else to go. I
pleaded. The sun was behind him; I couldn't see his face. I thought if
I submitted he wouldn't hurt me. I couldn't do anything else,
anyway. I turned away, leant my hands on the rock, with my legs
apart. I've seen it done that way, in films.

He took me.

 

[minsue]

5 - amicus

The Girl on the Bus

I have to get out of here! I can’t believe what she did. Just up and left, took her things, scribbled a note; “Sorry, can’t be here anymore.” The emptiness of the apartment was heavy all around me. I had to get out.

I grabbed a jacket pulled the door closed behind me, bumped into a wall as I tried to put an arm in a sleeve, cursed, bumped another wall and stomped down the hall to the entrance to the apartments.

The blast of cold wet air hit me as I burst through the doors, down the walkway and out to the sidewalk. Miserable, ugly, cold biting rain slashed at my face, I welcomed it. The four inches of snow yesterday was now discolored slush. How could she just up and leave like that? I never would. I would talk about it, apologize, explain, something, anything. How could she just leave?

I thought it was working pretty well. We met last semester and it was really good, came back after vacation and decided to move in together. It was great. We studied together, kept the place clean, paid the bills, even had a little fun now and then and the sex was great, at least I thought it was?

Damn! How could she just leave like that?

Shit, it’s nasty out. Rain had already soaked my hair and was dripping down my face, into my eyes and it feels colder than hell. I just kept walking, not seeing anything, dodging other people walking, moving on and off the sidewalk. I hunched my shoulders together and tried to walk in a straight line as the questions of what I had done wrong and why kept beating around inside my head.

I got to the end of the block and was about to step off the curb to cross the street when the campus bus roared up and stopped right in front me, I looked up and saw a hand wiping the window inside the bus and then a pair of the largest, widest, saddest eyes I had ever seen, looking out the fogged up window. I saw the wet strands of dark hair falling over her face, the rain smeared dark eye stuff streaking down her cheeks and suddenly her gaze fixed on mine.

I blinked, she blinked and the bus roared again, moved and turned the corner. I had to follow, so I walked alongside, looking at her and her eyes widened even further and then I had to walk faster and then run to keep her in sight. I dodged trees and people and lamp posts and fire hydrant to keep her in sight. I saw her turn and look back at me as I fell behind and then something came up and smacked me, hard, right on the forehead and I stopped and fell back on my butt into the slush and snow and mud and rain. This had not been a good day for me.

I just sat there, what the hell, how stupid could I be?

“Are you okay?”

I figured it was someone walking; it was total surprise to lift my head, groan and the see the wide, huge eyes I had seen through the bus window. I must have been a little dazed. I shook my head back and forth and tried to think.

“I musta ran into something?”

“Yeah, I saw. I was afraid you hurt yourself.”

I struggled to my feet and stood up. She was tiny, petite, small, didn’t even come up to my shoulders and I am not that tall; she had her arms crossed in front of her chest and was shivering in the cold. She had only a blouse on with sleeves that came only halfway down her arm above the elbow and even her face looked cold. I pulled my arms out of my jacket and draped it behind her and around her shoulders. She reached up and pulled it around her but still stood there shivering.

“Your bus is gone, sorry.” I really didn’t know what to say.

“I wasn’t going anywhere. I just had to go somewhere, ah, uh, my boyfriend just dumped me and I just had to, ah, I dunno, do something.”

“You had the saddest eyes I have ever seen, looking through that window.” I sighed. “My girlfriend just ‘dumped’ me too and I had to get out of the place.”

“You looked cold and wet and lost and it really surprised me to see you looking at me.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I dunno, I just wanted to think.”

I didn’t know what to say or do and then the words just came out. “My place is just down the block, you could dry off and warm up, maybe?”

She didn’t even look up.

“Okay.”

I thought about putting my arm around her but didn’t, I just turned and started walked back. She looked up and followed, a step or two behind and then caught up and walked alongside me, still all hunched over against the rain with her arms folded across her chest holding the jacket closed.

I opened the double glass doors for her as we came inside the building.

“Oh! It’s warm in here, my place is cold at the entranceway.”

She was still shivering but she pulled my jacket off her shoulders and handed it to me and we looked into each others eyes and something happened right then and there that I know will never understand, it was as though I went inside her eyes, into her mind and her soul.

I stepped forward and took the jacket from her hand and looked into her face, wide open eyes, slightly parted lips, her arms still out from handing me the jacket and I just took another step forward, slipped both arms around behind her, moved against her body and lowered my face to hers. I felt her arms on my back and her movement into me as she closed her eyes and I brought my lips down hard on hers.

I never felt anything like this before in my life. She surged forward against me, took my mouth and searched for more, brought her arms and hands up behind my head and the kiss turned into something I knew nothing about.

It just got more intense. I kissed her harder and moved to her neck, put my hands on her breasts and she made a noise in her throat and I felt her teeth in my neck. I put my hands behind her and down and pulled her towards me and her arms went around my neck and she pulled herself up and I lifted and she clamped her legs behind me. I moved us against a wall and was pushing hard up against her and she found my mouth again and asked for more.

I started scooting down the wall towards my room and then just moved away and carried her quickly down the hallway. The unlocked door opened easily as I expected it to when I bumped my hip into to it. I left the door however it was and hurried to my unmade bed and fell upon her and it and began trying the buttons of her blouse and then just ripped it apart. She did the same with my shirt as I pulled the straps down and the cups down and she moaned as I fixed my mouth on her breast and sent my hands down to unbutton her jeans and she did the same to me.

She just loosened mine and pushed them down and helped me drag hers down her thighs and legs and off and I was over her and on her and between her legs and into her so quickly it surprised me and it didn’t stop. We were moving together, in rhythm even before I pushed up against her and the groans and the moans and the panting and kissing and touching and biting just got more intense and completely out of control.

She screamed and dug her nails into my back and I grunted and groaned and exploded inside her, again and again and again. I collapsed down on her, felt her arms and legs fall away and I didn’t have a single thought in my head.

 

[minsue]

6 - vella_ms

The comfortable rhythm was nearly lulling in its predictability. The inhabitants within smiled coyly when gazes met before being torn asunder quickly. Light rose blushes suffused a small but delightful swell of exposed breast from one and a wicked smile from the other. What unplanned game was this that they played? Strangers, they certainly weren’t.

The air was thick and sweet, nearly cloying with the scent of magnolia woven around them. So, perhaps it was the first large rut that bounced the smaller of the inhabitants from her purchase or perhaps it was an over-reaction to the tension that had built to degrees she couldn’t fathom. No matter the scenario, she was kneeling upon the floor of the conveyance, her actions and silence at an uncomfortable juxtaposition.

Over an awkward passage of time, words were quietly spoken, breaking, redirecting and yet building this urgency between them. The elder of the two remarked upon the dangers of travel as she pulled moth eaten curtains down over curiously missing windows. Her gaze landed squarely on the smaller russet-haired woman, still kneeling on the floor.

“If you cared for this game of seduction, Elizabeth, we could have found many opportunities more physically suited for amorous pursuits. But, I care not at this point as you have me provoked beyond thought.”

Elizabeth paused only a moment before shedding the embarrassment of her situation. She used her position to her advantage. Smiling indulgently as she looked to her beautiful nomadic compatriot, her fingers traced a soft yet meaningful pathway under petticoats that hid a complete lack of underclothing beneath.

Helena tipped back her head as a near soundless hiss of approval slipped from her full lips. Elizabeth gently nudged Helena’s bare thighs apart with a negligent flick of her tongue.

Their eyes met and what had begun as a sweetly sensual flirtation between lovers became a carnal session made risky by their mode of transport. Elizabeth meandered her way betwixt lush thighs, inhaling the sweet musk of Helena’s excitement. Fingers encircled a hardened bud thoroughly drenched by a long withheld desire. She teased Helena until her body became pliant and her hips edged the thinly padded seat.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and relished the feel of Helena’s wet warmth around two digits, teasingly playing a slow counterpoint to the hushed moans issued by them both. The rough road they traveled served to spurn Elizabeth into a faster, deeper pace. Each time she thrust forward, her tongue flicked Helena’s hardened nub.

Allegro. Staccato. Fugue. . A symphony of pleasure brought to crescendo by a melodic cry of release.

Soft smiles upon bruised lips as Elizabeth rested her head upon Helena’s knee, waiting just a moment before returning to a shared reality and an abrupt end to their physical and emotional journey.

 

[minsue]

7 - rachlou

We passed though a black tunnel and for a moment the lights flickered off disconcertingly. It felt like I had been plunged into an ocean crevasse. All light had vanished, sucked into the abyss.

Still the train rumbled on relentlessly, the hypnotic thud of the tracks soothing my fears. The emergency lights sprang in to life and I turned to see a young man sat beside me. For a moment true fear spiked through my veins like heroin, my heart rate shooting through the roof of the carriage.

This person had not been beside me a few moments ago. Where in the hell had he come from? I looked around frantically but the carriage was mysteriously empty. There was nobody to call on for assistance – I was utterly alone.

Trembling, I shrank back against the cold glass, feeling the frigidity seeping through my clothes like ice. My skin broke out in goose bumps, cold sweat trickling down between my breasts.

The man’s strange green eyes were compelling. I found myself unwillingly drawn into their emerald depths, my body fighting the reaction to this stranger’s gaze. Without warning he leant towards me and kissed me hard, his mouth bruising my soft lips.

I was pinned between his body and the hard edge of the seat, unable to escape. His tongue pushed into my mouth, tasting my sweet flavour, sucking my breath from my trembling body. A raging lust swept through me, holding me ransom to its frenzied demands.

My nipples stiffened into hard bullets of sensation, my sex flooded with honeyed juices. Still my tormentor said nothing. He merely swept his hands down my body, lingering lustfully on the curves of my breasts.

I parted my thighs in an unspoken gesture of submittal. The hot piquant scent of my arousal was immediately apparent. Like a bee to the sweet nectar, he plunged his hand between my legs, dipping a finger into my aching depths.

I shifted towards him, my unspoken plea clear to both of us. He rubbed tantalisingly across my clit, bending to rest his mouth on the peak of my breast. I cried out when he pushed back inside me, my heated pussy sucking his fingers in sharp spasms of pleasure.

My orgasm ripped through me, flooring me with the intensity of its rapture. For a delirious moment I blacked out, reality fading away. When I came to, the carriage was brightly lit once again, the fluorescent glow spot-lighting my flushed countenance as the train steward stared at me curiously, one hand resting on his trolley.

“Any refreshments Madame,” he asked with a knowing smirk.

I was in no fit state to reply as I half lay across the seat, my skirt hiked up high on my thighs and my erotic book open beside me. Fuck! I must have been dreaming again…

 

[minsue]

8 - Munachi

“Ladies and gentlemen, the seatbelt sign has been turned off, but for your own…”

She didn’t wait for the announcement to end, but unbuckled her seatbelt and stretched out on the three seats she had to herself. The cold air inside the plane made her shiver.

‘Damn, I’ve put the jacket into the checked luggage,’ she remembered.

Her hand luggage thrown under the seat in front of her consisted only of a wet bathing suit and the towel that she had wrapped it in when they told her she had to hurry to catch her plane. How annoying, the party had been at its best. And now she was here, with wet hair, dressed in nothing but a tiny top and a wraparound skirt that reached to her knees.. The air-conditioning in the airplane was merciless.

A flight attendance asked her if she needed anything.

“Water.”

Did it show just how drunk she was? Well, who cares. She wanted to sleep. And get a bit warmer, hopefully. She pulled her knees up, to have her feet closer to her body – who cares if that was a bit of a revealing position? The plane was almost empty anyway, and it was a late night flight, the lights were turned off. Arms folded under her head, she fell asleep.

***

He couldn’t take his eyes off her. The way she was lying, her skirt didn’t hide anything. She wasn’t even wearing underwear, he realized. With the lights turned off, he could still only guess in the greenish shimmer from the emergency exit signs, but it was enough for him to feel quite hot despite the air-conditioning.

He moved closer towards the edge of the seat, the isle, her. She had stopped shivering, probably fallen asleep. The urge to touch her, the skin that looked soft and pale in the dim light, became too strong to resist. His hand moved almost of its own accord. She was so close, he could almost feel her already. But to touch her, he would have to lean out of his seat, maybe even get up.

Carefully he looked around for any approaching flight attendants, but there were none to be seen. There were only a few people on the flight, and most of them seemed to be asleep - a few watched the movie. No one looked in their direction.

He stood up and looked down at her. He didn’t dare breathe. Carefully, his hand reached out to her, the tips of his fingers touched the soft skin of her upper leg, wandered further up...

... Suddenly she opened her eyes. He stood up straight, right in front of her seat. She stared at him like at a ghost, as if she didn’t know where she was.

He tried to smile.

“Hi, I just wondered if you want my jacket to cover up a bit. You must be cold.”

 

[minsue]

9 - impressive

Victyr raised the hand nearest the aisle without turning from the window. Outside, early morning fog blanketed the terminal, rendering travelers into a throng of bustling apparitions. He felt his ticket taken, heard the snick of it being punched, and waited for the same two words as it was returned to his hand.

“Pleasant journey.”

The familiar smells of coffee and bacon followed the conductor as he made his way through the car. His breakfast never varied, but the odor sometimes competed with that of the fabric softener his wife used. At least, Victyr assumed the man’s wife laundered his clothes. He wore a wedding ring, after all, and his collars were always starched.

Snick for the old guy with the musty suit. “Pleasant journey.”

Snick for the haggard, young woman. “Pleasant journey.”

And so it went. Twenty-seven regulars and a handful of occasionals. He knew all their stops; guessed all their stories. Each traveled alone.

Victyr often complained about the commute, but he could not imagine his life without the comfort of its routine. Each day, he crossed six stops to his destination, spent the day in a purgatory of his own creation, and returned in the evening to a house that wasn’t home.

He’d long since memorized the cadence of the tracks and the flicker of passing lights through the crimson curtain of his eyelids. His fellow passengers he knew by scent and by sight but not by name. Save one. An exception. They didn’t speak, but the camaraderie of shared silence cemented their bonds. Misery loved company.

By the time the train reached his stop, only he and Mrs. Martim remained onboard. They didn’t acknowledge one another until the last of the other passengers disembarked. To do so seemed to violate a code, of sorts. Each traveled alone.

At their destination, they often shared a cup of hot coffee and cold commiseration before parting ways for the day. Her situation mirrored his own. Neither could see any escape.

Victyr shrugged himself into his overcoat as he rose and collected an old briefcase. Stepping into the aisle, he paused to allow Mrs. Martim to precede him.

She sat two rows forward, on the opposite side. Her head was bowed, and she made no move to stand. He thought, perhaps, she’d fallen asleep.

Still loathe to speak, Victyr cleared his throat. No response.

After his second attempt failed to get her attention, he whispered, “Mrs. Martim, time to go.”
She turned then, eyes filled with tears. “I’m going on today, Victyr, to the end of the line.”

Speechless, he shook his head.

“Yes. It’s time.”

“I…” He reached for some words, any words. “Good luck, Mrs. Martim.”

She took his hand and pressed it to her cheek. “Thank you. Please, though, call me by given name. Just once. I won’t see you again unless…”

He looked down at the back of his hand and the sheen of her tears that sparkled upon it.

“Good luck,” his voice cracked, “Joy.”

 

[minsue]

10 - Varian P

Hitcher

“Can you smell it?”
That wasn't her. That was him imagining. Sometimes he wasn't sure which it was, something real his senses told him about, or something that got made up in his brain.
She hadn't asked him, “Can you smell it?” But the smell of her cunt was real. The car was filled with it. That's why he didn't roll down his window even though he was too warm.
Bare, sweaty thighs were parted. A triangle of red vinyl seat showed between. He looked away to the first thing he'd noticed when he'd climbed out of the cloud of dust stirred up by her wheels and into her car—panties on the floor by his feet. Red like the vinyl seats and twisted up like she'd just rolled them down her thighs. That cunt he smelled was bare under that black skirt, between those damp, parted thighs.
When he looked up her eyes were on his crotch. When he looked down he saw the shape of his hardon under the denim plain as he could smell her sex. When he looked up her eyes were on the road. Only one hand was on the wheel. The other was between those open thighs, disfiguring the red triangle.
A soft, wet sound came from where her hand was barely moving.
“Can you smell it?”
Stronger now, her sex smell.
“Do what I'm doing.”
Want and fear like a jackboot pressing down on his throat as he stretched his hand toward those spread thighs.
“No. Do it to yourself.”
He wanted to touch the warm damp of her inner thighs, the sticky heat of her cunt. But he undid his fly and wrapped his fist around his cock and watched her hand flex between her thighs and watched eyes her flick between the road and his hand sliding up and down.
Now his smell was in the warm, close air of the car, too, mixed with the smell of her cunt. Like the smell of fucking. When he fucked Alicia, it smelled almost like that. Her soft, wet noises and the smack of his hand every downstroke and her moans and his exhales were almost like the sounds of him and Alicia. Him and Alicia, their bodies, their smells, their noises all pressed up and stirred together. Him and Alicia fucking. Oh Fuck. God.
He'd hitched half way but maybe Alicia wasn't there anymore. She'd stopped coming on visiting days almost a year back, and for nine months, no letters. Maybe Alicia'd given up on him.
The car swerved. They were on the shoulder and she was crying and he thought, with that jackboot on the throat feeling, he'd fucked it all up. Soon there'd be sirens and shouts and cold metal biting his wrists.
“I miss him,” she whispered, staring out the windshield, her cheeks wet.
That was her. She'd said that. He touched her neck and she leaned into him and let him hold her while she cried.

 

[minsue]

11 - Penelope Street

Looking forward into the haze from a dozen pipes and cigars, I chewed my lower lip and sighed. You were fortunate to get a ticket at all, I consoled myself.

My eyes roamed the passengers, seeking the grey of a uniform. If anyone could be counted on to select chivalry over comfort, it was a soldier. I spied none, but my hope was not lost- I may have been several years beyond marrying age, but that didn't mean the eyes of men had ceased to follow my form. Stepping forward, I walked slower than normal and allowed my shoulders to drop.

Not three steps had I taken before a tall man in a dingy coat leapt from his seat near the front of the coach. I stopped, and for several heartbeats we but stared at one another. Being reluctant to walk forward only to discover he had alighted for some other purpose, I continued my deliberate pace and scanned the nearby seats.

With eyes wide, the man rushed toward me. "Miss Wil.." He gasped, then his chest swelled with a large breath.

Within my bodice, my breast froze. He couldn't know my name, could he? I searched his taut, weathered features, but could not place them.

"Miss," he said, "will you want a seat in this coach? I would be only to honored to surrender mine."

"Why of course, kind sir." I forced a smile. "I should not wish to deprive you of any such honor."

He turned and I followed him back to the third row. There, he motioned toward the empty seat beside what I took to be another gentleman. "Please."

I turned my attention back to the man I took to be my savior. "Thank you ever so much, Mr...?"

His eyes again widened and his throat flexed. "Smith," he said. "Jefferson Smith."

I inclined my head and smiled again. "Thank you, Mr. Smith."

"My pleasure," he said, before turning and scurrying toward the door at the front of the coach.

"How peculiar," I muttered. "It almost seemed like he wanted to..."

"Good afternoon!"

I turned to see the other man had stood. Like Mr. Smith, he was tall, but broader where his shoulders stretched a coat that was a shade darker than his hair and beard, the latter having a few streaks of grey.

He doffed his hat. "Will you be wanting the window or the aisle, miss?"

"The aisle," I insisted. "I should like to collect the fewest cinders possible."

"Of course." The man smiled and motioned toward the seat nearest me. "Please."

I gathered my skirts and slid onto the worn burgundy fabric of the bench. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught him looking toward the floor and I glanced downward myself, wondering if I might have exposed my ankles.

"I'm Thomas Larson," he said, settling next to me. "To whom do I owe the pleasure?"

I smiled back. "To Mr. Jefferson Smith, I believe."

 

[minsue]

12 - Lauren Hynde

At the heart of parkour is the notion of uninterrupted, efficient movement, adapted to each obstacle that appears in one's path.

"Fluid as water," Lobo muttered as he clasped his gloves on and took a last surveying look over the impossibly steep hill at his feet.

What in hell was he thinking of? It just couldn't be done. He had only arrived to town on business three days before, which meant he had only even met these maniacs for two nights, which meant he had only even seen the course - across, over, and through the medieval borough's narrow alleys, and crumbling rooftops - once. And, obviously, this would have to go down at night. A one-time-only chance of living up to his reputation. Tonight.

"Is everyone ready? It's almost time."

Slowly, as if coming out of a trance, the group started to gather at the bottom of the cathedral's stairs, from where Sebastian had called. In total, no more than a dozen, totally dressed in figure-hugging black, all of them young. Much younger than him, Lobo thought. Shit. He was only twenty-seven and already feeling too old for this sort of thing.

"You all know the rules. Don't get in anyone else's way. Don't be a prick. The first one to make it to the river without breaking the neck in the process wins bragging rights."

Fuck it. You only live once.

Besides, he knew perfectly well what he was doing. Once had been enough. From a small inside pocket, he produced a pair of earphones and held his thumb against the play button, ready to shut out all distractions. He checked the cathedral's tower clock. Yes, it was time. Click. The initial chords of Climbatize started to gradually build up. A deep breath, a step forward, a not to all and to no one in particular.

Ten seconds, twenty. Focus.

At different paces, with different rituals, they all turned toward the city and approached the edge of the lookout platform.

One minute. The music kept gaining momentum in Lobo's ears. He looked back again at the tower clock. One minute and seven seconds later, at the stroke of midnight, the song peaked, and so did his concentration. Every nerve in his body screamed go, go, go!

On queue, a cloud of black shadows vaulted over the granite balustrade and down onto the square fifteen feet below, barely visible under the faint yellow sodium lights. The loud echo of boots hitting the cobbled ground and darting on to the next obstacle threatened to wake the city from its stupor.

Each change of beat in the song signalled the time for a new obstacle, a new movement, a new step in Lobo's planned course.

Two minutes and twenty-two seconds. Lobo half-turned, hung off the edge of a sheer granite wall, and dropped with a roll onto the only steel and concrete structure in sight. The black-clad group flowed down alleys and stairways.

"Fluid as water... More like as a suicide run down white water rapids..."

 

[minsue]

13 - angelicminx

My head snapped to the right and I stopped dead in my tracks. Her beauty and the way she stood out in a crowd hypnotized me. I knew she would be high maintenance, and expensive, but I was in love from the moment I saw her. The way the sunlight glistened on her sleek body drew me to her, like a moth to flame. I raced across the street, not paying much attention to the traffic. I had to have her, and I’d do anything to make her mine.


I sidled up behind her and spoke in my sexiest voice, “Hello, Beautiful. Where ya been all my life?” I couldn’t believe the corniest words a man could ever say had just come out of my mouth. I groaned and dropped my head, praying I hadn’t been overheard. I knew I should just turn and walk away, but something held me there, waiting.


She sat there in silence, neither acknowledging my presence nor insisting that I leave. Encouraged, I stepped closer. I let my gaze travel her length, noting her sheer perfection. She didn’t appear to have a blemish on her. The red coat she wore set off her features, and the tan leather hugged her as if custom made. My fingers itched to touch her, but caution held me back. I’d come across a beauty of her caliber only once before, and she had driven off with someone else.


I drank in the lines of her body, her curves in all the right places. She looked like the kind who’d enjoy a long drive in the country, or a wild race down the freeway. It wouldn’t matter to her, as long as the radio was blaring and the tank was full. I could picture myself behind the wheel, the wind in my hair and the sound of her voice in my ear, begging me to go faster. Exhausted, we’d drive home, but find ourselves too keyed up to rest.


My heart began to race as I imagined soaping her up, my hands tracing the arc of her unspoiled rear. I couldn’t wait to turn her on and see if she purred like a kitten.


I heard a burly voice behind me say, “Hello.”


In that moment my concentration and my daydreams were broken. I knew right away who he was. I reached in my pocket and pulled out my checkbook.


“How much for the ’41 Willy’s?”


I was in love, and price was no object.

 

[minsue]

14 - Nirvanadragones

Just to make you jealous, she wrote an hour later on a postcard to her friend David. Stayed last night in an auberge with a breath-taking flower garden just outside Les Baux de province and ate in a magnificent Guide Michelin restaurant. Can’t think of enough adjectives to describe the meal, so I’ll just list the dishes. A ravioli of truffle, a steak with wild mushrooms, a delectable Roquefort – sorry, there I go again with the adjectives – and a cream cheese with a coating like a downy pink peach. Along with a bottle of Gigondas. Eat your heart out!

She looked at the picture on the postcard – the typical fountain you find in every village around here, with a rough face carved in stone, a jet of water sparkling in the sun, lavender shrubs in the background – and turned it over quickly to read through her message again. David could be rather fussy about spelling mistakes and the like. She wondered momentarily if the tone was not a little too spiteful. No, she decided, David knew her well enough.

He was a former bed mate who was originally to have toured with her. Somewhere at the back of her mind had been the thought – maybe even the hope? – that they might once again become what they were.

Her mind took her back to Greece. Four years ago, during the summer, they had stayed for 6 days and 5 nights in Lefkada, on the most beautiful beach called Porto Katsiki. She had discovered more about her sexuality in that short week than she had before, in her 35 years of life. He had pushed her, and she had gone willingly to that place she didn’t know she could go.

He was a dangerous addiction she couldn’t break. But was it that she desired him, or was it the power he had over her?

She remembered the smell of sweat, and sex, and only his forefinger inside of her. The look on his face, as he pulled out of her, and raised it to her mouth. His controlled voice. “ You’re soaking wet” It was a command and not a comment. His tongue inside of her, while she strained against the cuffs. And later, much later, his hand on her bare skin, leaving delicious, angry marks.

She needed him. But three days before David was to have flown to France with her, he fell in love with another woman, so head over heals in love, that he could not bear the idea of leaving her for two weeks. Which is why she was sitting all alone on the patio of a Provençal café writing postcards to the man who used to fuck her raw.

There had been a time when she had looked down on single tourists who were always assiduously scribbling away on postcards and in diaries, such an inadequate shield against other people’s inquisitive eyes. Now she had joined the ranks of those pathetic postcard writers, writing him everything, except what she really wanted to say.

The torture of waiting . . . he would call. Desire is stronger than love.

 

[impressive]

Imp's Lame-Ass Guessing Post

1. rachlou (neonlyte)
2. champagne1982
3. Penelope Street (ChilledVodkaIV)
4. vella_ms (SimonBrooke)
5. amicus
6. Varian P (vella_ms)
7. angelicminx (rachlou)
8. Munachi
9. impressive
10. ChilledVodkaIV (Varian P)
11. SimonBrooke (Penelope Street)
12. Lauren Hynde
13. neonlyte (angelicminx)
14. Nirvanadragones

6/14

 

[Guest]

Vella's attempt

This is very difficult because I can hear any one of us reading most of these. Job well done all!

1. SimonBrooke
2. angelicminx
3. wow. esoteric i wish i could guess Cantdog but hes not in line so...SimonBrooke or ChilledVodkaIV
4. Fem
5. Imp
6. Nirvana
7. Varian P
8. champange1982
9. rachlou
10. Penelope Street
    
11. Lauren
12. Munachi
13. amicus
14. neon

 

[Nirvanadragones]

Hmmnn . . .

1. rachlou
2. SimonBrooke
3. neonlyte
4. vella_ms
5. amicus
6. Lauren Hynde
7. Penelope Street
8. ChilledVodkaIV
9. impressive
10. Varian P
11. angelicminx
12. Munachi
13. champagne1982
14. Nirvanadragones

 

[FallingToFly]

1.angeliminx
2.amicus
3.Varian P
4.SimonBrooke
5.femininity
6.neonlyte
7.impressive
8.rachlou
9.Penelope Street
10.vella_ms
11.Munachi
12.Lauren Hynde
13.champagne1982
14.Vana

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Red Read These and Guessed Those. . .

1. Nirvanadragones
2. amicus
3. SimonBrooke
4. Lauren Hynde
5. impressive
6. angelicminx
7. Varian P
8. vella_ms
9. Munachi
10. Penelope Street
11. femininity
12. rachlou
13. neonlyte
14. champagne1982

Wildcard: ChilledVodkaIV
---

 

[Selena_Kitt]

Selena's Apparently Random Guessing Post

1. Neonlyte
2. champagne1982
3. Amicus
4. vella_ms
5. femininity
6. Nirvanadragones
7. Impressive
8. rachlou
9. Penelope Street
10. Munachi
11.SimonBrooke
12. Lauren Hynde
13. Varian P
14. Angelicminx


ChilledVodkaIV

 

[Liar]

Hmm... got a few hunches... Gonna hafta read up on some of the authors...

Ok, here goes nuffin:

1. ChilledVodkaIV
2. rachlou
3. neonlyte
4. Varian P
5. Munachi
6. Nirvanadragones
7. angelicminx
8. vella_ms
9. impressive
10. champagne1982
11. femininity
12. Lauren Hynde
13. SimonBrooke
14. amicus

 

[oggbashan]

Og's WAGs:

1. Lauren Hynde
2. Nirvanadragones
3. champagne1982
4. rachlou
5. impressive
6. Munachi
7. angelicminx
8. vella_ms
9. Penelope Street
10. femininity
11. amicus
12. neonlyte
13. SimonBrooke
14. Varian P

wild card ChilledVodkaIV

Probably wildly wrong but it's a start.

Og

 

[past_perfect]

My list of misconceptions :

1. Rachlou
2. Angelicminx
3. ChilledVodkaIV
4. Varian P
5. Amicus
6. Femininity
7. Champagne1982
8. Munachi
9. Vella_ms
10. Impressive
11. Penelope Street
12. Simon Brooke
13. Neonlyte
14. Nirvanadragones

Wildcard Lauren

 

[Lauren Hynde]

1. neonlyte
2. angelicminx
3. Munachi
4. amicus
5. femininity
6. impressive
7. rachlou
8. vella_ms
9. Penelope Street
10. Varian P
11. SimonBrooke
12. ChilledVodkaIV
13. Nirvanadragones
14. champagne1982