The Art of Getting Lit Laid

[jacfox]

Real people

-have tears as well as smiles
Farts as well as sighs
Bad days as well as good
Rough edges beside the smooth
Maybe a blemish amidst the glow
Needs of their own
And inconvenient schedules
They aren’t passive dolls
They aren’t sex slaves
They aren’t your nursemaid
They aren’t your salvation
Nor your ruination
Look into your mind
Find love and passion inside
Put them out there
If you dare
Be ready, risk it all
For we are also

Real

 

[Noone45]

I don't know...dungeons can be lots of fun. It's all about keeping an open mind to new things, with a side-frisson of mortal danger

Don't come to me crying
I warned you

 

[jacfox]

Is Climax Unlimited on strike? Not a worker in sight. All off sampling the product?

 

[Hornymwtxn]

Is Climax Unlimited on strike? Not a worker in sight. All off sampling the product?

Pounding the table um er Pounding something under the table

 

[subdudeme13]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Getting Lit Laid
Is good for you!

 

[Hornymwtxn]

They say habits are hard to break once established.

But the good news is that applies to good habits also.

Some recent good habits I have formed is a commitment to exercise and tracking my food intake daily.

One bad habit I have eliminated recently is overeating.

Any good habits you want to establish? I have read it only takes two weeks to develop habits.

 

[Carmina24]

The Moment You Knew

It began quietly, without fanfare.
You eased into friendship with her -
the kind that felt natural,
like slipping into a favorite chair.
She was easy to talk to.
Comfortable.
Her messages, spaced through the hours,
carried a lightness that made you grin at the screen.
Funny, silly, effortless -
each one a spark that lingered long after it arrived.
Soon, it became a rhythm.
You started and ended your days with her words.
A good morning that set the tone,
a good night that lingered like a soft echo.
You told yourself it was nothing -
just a habit, just companionship.
But there was something else, wasn’t there?
A warmth you felt bubbling beneath your ribs.
You pressed it down,
insisting it couldn’t be more.
No.
You don’t do love.
She didn’t mean that much to you.
Not really.
…Ok, maybe a little.
But then, without warning, it happened.
It struck not with thunder or lightning,
but like a comet colliding with your heart.
Sudden.
Fierce.
Undeniable.
The laughter, the ease, the longing for her words -
they all fell into place as one undeniable truth.

You love her.

 

[Carmina24]

I couldn't help writing the twist...
Some of you might relate to this...

Lost

You brushed it off at first.
Just a friend.
Just someone who made the hours lighter with her silly jokes
and the way her words found you when you needed them most.

You told yourself it was nothing.
So you built walls around your heart,
and every time the thought tried to slip through,
you smothered it.

No, not you.
You don’t fall.
You don’t need.
You don’t love.

But while you were busy denying it,
she slipped away.
Someone else noticed what you refused to see.
Someone else gave her the place
you pretended wasn’t hers.

You loved her.
And you lost her.

 

[Hornymwtxn]

Goals

Normally goals are a good thing
Something to strive towards
Satisfaction ensues once achieved
But the downsides are that once one goal
Has been attained you feel the need to set another goal and then another and we end up not being able to enjoy the small things by focusing only on our achievements we lose focus on things that really matter, things that make us truly happy.

 

[Carmina24]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Getting Lit Laid
Is good for you!

Good advertisement lol

 

[Hornymwtxn]

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Getting Lit Laid
Is good for you!

Acummadations

 

[jacfox]

The Bigger Picture

If the picture seems not quite right
If you don’t think you like what you see
And there appears no way to change it
No other way for it to be

If the place is just all wrong
If the timing leaves much to be desired
And the mood is a touch off key
Your feelings confused and mired

If the wires feel all crossed
If communication is breaking down
And your desires misunderstood
Worried you're seen as a clown

If all around you chaos reigns
If things are falling apart
No one listening, only shouting
A lead weight sits in your heart

If you want to be somewhere else
If a way just doesn’t exist
There is one thing you can change
If you see it, and persist

If you can’t change anything out there
If there simply isn't a way
Then okay. But…you can change the way you see things!
And your barrier just might seem…like play


(If this seems glib, it’s saved my sanity more than once in my life)

 

[Carmina24]

The Prince and the Pauper of Words

Once upon a time, in a kingdom where gold decided the weight of a person’s worth, there lived a pauper girl who had none. Her clothes were threadbare, her shoes worn thin, her stomach often empty. But she held one treasure the world could not measure: the gift of weaving words.

She had no parchment, no ink, not even a quill. She carved her stories into the air with her voice, whispered them into the cracks of old stone walls, scattered them like seeds across the wind. And still, they grew. People paused to listen. Some laughed, some cried, some found hope they thought they had lost.

One day, a prince passed through the village in disguise. He was weary of courtiers’ flattery and words that rang hollow with duty. But when he heard the pauper girl speak, he stopped as though spellbound. She spun no grand illusions, only simple tales - of longing, of courage, of love that asked for nothing in return.

Her words touched him deeper than any crown ever could. He returned day after day, not as a prince, but as a man eager for another glimpse of her soul. And though she had no riches, she gave him something rarer: truth wrapped in beauty, a heart made visible through syllables and song.

The day came when the prince cast aside his disguise and stood before her in all his regalia.
“I have known many who sought me for my throne,” he said softly. “But you sought nothing, and gave me everything.”

The pauper bowed her head. “I have no kingdom to offer, no dowry but words.”

“Then let your words be my crown,” the prince replied. “And let your heart be my kingdom.”

And so, the pauper of words became a queen of stories, her voice echoing through halls once empty of truth. And the prince, who thought he had everything, found that only when he lost himself in her tales did he finally have it all.

And they lived - not just happily, but word by word, ever after.

 

[Carmina24]

The Sea King and the Storyteller

Long ago, when mortals still feared the deep, Neptune ruled the seas with a crown of coral and storms. To sailors, he was terror. To kingdoms, he was myth. To himself, he was loneliness bound by endless tides.

Far above, in a quiet village by the shore, lived a mortal girl with nothing but books. She was poor in coin but rich in worlds. Every evening she sat on the rocks and read her tales aloud, her voice spilling into the salt wind.

Neptune heard her.
At first, he thought her words were spells, for they stirred the ocean more deeply than moon or storm. But they were only stories - stories of heroes, wanderers, lovers who lost and found each other again. And Neptune, ancient as he was, felt something he had long forgotten: wonder.

Night after night he rose from the waves, unseen, to listen. The girl did not know she was speaking to a god; she thought she was only telling stories to the sea. Yet each word unraveled his solitude, each tale became an anchor to her mortal world.

At last, he could bear it no longer. He rose before her, vast as the tide, crowned in foam and flame. “Why do you speak to the sea?” he thundered.

Startled, she dropped her book - but then she laughed softly. “Because the sea listens,” she said.

And in that moment, the might of Neptune broke. For no mortal had ever dared to answer him with such truth.

He came to her again, not with storms but with silence, to hear her stories. And she, unafraid, read to him of kings and beggars, of loves lost and found, until he realized he was not the god in her tales, but the man she had unknowingly loved into being.

He asked her once: “Would you come below the waves, to a kingdom without books, without sun, without breath?”

She shook her head gently. “No, my place is here. But you may come to me, and I will give you stories as long as the tides endure.”

So Neptune learned to walk upon the shore. And the girl who once had only books became the beloved of the sea itself.

And to this day, when waves crash against the rocks, some say it is Neptune, answering the stories of the girl who taught a god how to love.

 

[jacfox]

“Then let your words be my crown,” the prince replied. “And let your heart be my kingdom.”

Your words are a fit crown for any prince!

 

[jacfox]

At last, he could bear it no longer. He rose before her, vast as the tide, crowned in foam and flame. “Why do you speak to the sea?” he thundered.

I doubt even a statue could resist your words

 

[Wwwajr666]

The Sea King and the Storyteller

Long ago, when mortals still feared the deep, Neptune ruled the seas with a crown of coral and storms. To sailors, he was terror. To kingdoms, he was myth. To himself, he was loneliness bound by endless tides.

Far above, in a quiet village by the shore, lived a mortal girl with nothing but books. She was poor in coin but rich in worlds. Every evening she sat on the rocks and read her tales aloud, her voice spilling into the salt wind.

Neptune heard her.
At first, he thought her words were spells, for they stirred the ocean more deeply than moon or storm. But they were only stories - stories of heroes, wanderers, lovers who lost and found each other again. And Neptune, ancient as he was, felt something he had long forgotten: wonder.

Night after night he rose from the waves, unseen, to listen. The girl did not know she was speaking to a god; she thought she was only telling stories to the sea. Yet each word unraveled his solitude, each tale became an anchor to her mortal world.

At last, he could bear it no longer. He rose before her, vast as the tide, crowned in foam and flame. “Why do you speak to the sea?” he thundered.

Startled, she dropped her book - but then she laughed softly. “Because the sea listens,” she said.

And in that moment, the might of Neptune broke. For no mortal had ever dared to answer him with such truth.

He came to her again, not with storms but with silence, to hear her stories. And she, unafraid, read to him of kings and beggars, of loves lost and found, until he realized he was not the god in her tales, but the man she had unknowingly loved into being.

He asked her once: “Would you come below the waves, to a kingdom without books, without sun, without breath?”

She shook her head gently. “No, my place is here. But you may come to me, and I will give you stories as long as the tides endure.”

So Neptune learned to walk upon the shore. And the girl who once had only books became the beloved of the sea itself.

And to this day, when waves crash against the rocks, some say it is Neptune, answering the stories of the girl who taught a god how to love.

 

[Hornymwtxn]

When things go awry after a long online relationship and you are searching for reasons why.

We both changed each other, some changes for the better and unfortunately some changes for the worse too.

Think back to the early days and try to become that person again, the person who attracted them, the person who built something special for both.

 

[Wwwajr666]

I can not stop thinking of you Care Bear
I can't get you out of my mind.
My mind races when I'm with out you
You are always on my mind. I miss hearing your voice. Seeing the smile on your face. That's what I look forward to everyday.
It's got to the point crave to see you on a deeper level
There is seldem a time. When you are not on my mind. I think about you all the time. I love and. Enjoy being with you. I am almost always thinking of you. Looking forward to seeing you again. No ocean or time zone can keep us apart. Care Bear

 

[Carmina24]

The Prince in the Iron Mask

In an age when kingdoms bent beneath the weight of secrets,
there was a man the world was forbidden to see.
Upon his face was fastened an iron mask -
unyielding as night,
merciless as fate.

They called him cursed.
They called him dangerous.
They buried his name beneath silence.
Yet no lock, no iron, no lie can silence destiny forever.

For into his darkness came a pauper maiden,
penniless, barefoot,
but carrying a treasure greater than kingdoms:
the gift of words that shimmered like dawn.

Where others turned away,
she stepped closer.
Where others feared,
she spoke.
And her voice wove through the iron,
gentle as wind,
fierce as flame.

“Rise,” her stories whispered.
“Remember,” her truths commanded.
And the mask - that prison of shadows - began to tremble.

It cracked at the sound of her hope.
It weakened at the weight of her love.
Until one night, beneath a sky split open with stars,
iron gave way to light.
The mask fell,
and the man long hidden was revealed -
not a ghost, not a curse,
but a prince radiant and unbroken.

The kingdom gasped,
but the girl only smiled,
for she had always seen what lay beneath.

Together they rose,
their love a spell mightier than steel,
their bond a crown brighter than gold.

And so the tale was written into legend:
that no iron forged by fear
can withstand the fire of truth,
and no mask, however cruel,
can endure before love eternal.

 

[The_Quiet_Man]

Carmina, I know others here have said it better than I have, but you have a special poetic gift, and I can't put into words how much I appreciate it.

 

[Carmina24]

Carmina, I know others here have said it better than I have, but you have a special poetic gift, and I can't put into words how much I appreciate it.

That's so kind of you, thank you!

 

[StarGazer58]

The Dissertationist: Akin to the essayist, this variety of delusional-DM-er likes to send, as their first message, a lengthy detailed description of their kink. So specific is the joy they take in the telling that you can almost feel the heavy breathing & sweaty palms through the text. Should you survive the reading of such horrors (and the "flattering" reasons as to why they've chosen to make you the target of their attentions), you will surely find an invitation to "learn more", followed by a request to message back and tell you how turned on you are at their descriptions of (insert fetish here)

This sounds like a cut and paster. They come up with what they consider a great opening and then cut and paste it all the time.

 

[MindYaBitness]

This sounds like a cut and paster. They come up with what they consider a great opening and then cut and paste it all the time.

I don't think that's possible in a Voca

 

[MrMakersMark]

The Mythical Creatures of Lit

They wander these halls, half-human, half-mystery, leaving chaos and chuckles and in their wake. Beware, traveler - you may encounter:

The Serial Flirt - Flirts with anyone and everyone, leaving trails of winks, hearts, and “you up?” messages across the land. You’re not special. But hey, neither is anyone else.

The Ghoster - Starts romances like a firecracker, full of sparks and promise… then vanishes into thin air right when you lean in. Were they ever real? Or just a figment of your imagination?

The Oblivious One - You’re polite. You’re nice. But they take your “haha” as a marriage proposal. Resistance is futile; they cannot take a hint.

The Essayist - Responds to “hi” with a three-chapter manifesto on love, life, and the metaphysical meaning of your comma placement.

The Emoji Oracle - Communicates solely in cryptic emoji strings. Are they saying they like you, or that their hamster escaped during a thunderstorm? The world may never know.

The Lurker - Always online, never replies. Yet somehow, they know everything.

And that’s just a start…
What other mythical creatures roam these Lit lands?