The Art of Getting Lit Laid

[jacfox]

Moonbeam
Pt II

I bare my fangs, my hair stands up
My eyes glow golden yellow
I hear her voice in silver slivershafts
That sweep across the hollow

‘What’s this? A worthier prey?
My breast grows full with pleasure!
Dance on, sleek wolf
But be careful to what measure’

I growl like gravel on frozen ground
The drool hangs from my jaw
My muscles flex, grow hard and stretch
If she can she’ll have me, on the floor

We tangle freely hour on hour
Until my limbs grow weary
Yet her beams have failed to touch me yet
Her barbs not found me nearly

The huntress pursues me relentlessly
For Apollo her lover she spares some gaze
Until her face grows brightest yet
Just before he thrusts dawn ablaze

Have I outrun her? Outwitted?
I pant and shudder with terror
I lack the strength to carry on
Fearing a fatal error

A pale grey in the distance
Gives cause yet for some hope
Then her face quite covers over
I must set off at a lope

Fool that I am! I discover
She hid in cloudy disguise
Too late I seek to turn away
Her shafts now pierce my eyes

But…what’s this I feel?
Just as all turns dim
My eyes set ablaze
And a fire builds from within

My chest expands fast
I rear up for my last passage
My head about to burst
Everything grows massive

Then a moment’s silence–
But it’s the forest that bewares
The huntress smiles on her new creation
For I am
A
Were

 

[jacfox]

Pretty weak but it's the thought that counts right?

Don't dis yourself! And the more you do it, the more fun it is and the better it gets...I'm sure you've had that experience before

 

[Carmina24]

Don't dis yourself! And the more you do it, the more fun it is and the better it gets...I'm sure you've had that experience before

@Hornymwtxn what you wrote was great!
I agree with @jacfox We get better the more we keep at it.
(Says the girl who wrote about Jaws and Psycho)

At least it wasn't about clowns...lol

 

[Wwwajr666]

8900 miles separate us across a rough lonely sea. Holds you close yet so far away. I sea your face nightly in the moonlight and stars . I hear your voice in every breeze.
Love through the distance is a powerful thing. I hear your voice on my whispering lips
We close distance with love and care. That's the most important thing my little Care Bear
Every message ever Whereby is a presious time. It brings you closer to me and what we share

 

[Hornymwtxn]

Has anyone decided what they are dressing as for Halloween?

@Carmina24 has ruled out clowns for me so I was thinking about going as E.T. but with a smock and a stethoscope added.

E.T. the proctologist should scare a few.

 

[masterslave00]

The Professor

He stands before the board, voice deep and steady, shaping every word with precision. He speaks of logic and proof, but none of it matters. Not to me.

Because I am watching him.
Not the board. Not the lesson.
Him.

My eyes peel away the layers he hides behind - the shirt, the tie, the careful posture. In my mind he is already bare. Already undone. Already trembling beneath the weight of my hunger.

His voice is the weapon I cannot resist - that calm, measured tone meant to instruct. In my head I twist it, drag it through my own darkness, until it fractures into a ragged moan. Until the lecture hall is nothing but the sound of him coming apart for me.

When his gaze sweeps the room it stops - just for a second - on me. It lingers like a touch, a spark that sears through my skin. Like he knows. Like he feels the pressure of my thoughts pressing against him.

I smile, but inside I am feral.
I want to ruin his composure.
I want to drag that hidden voice out of him and hear it break.

The class ends. The students scatter.
I remain, alone with the ghost of his scent and my own hunger.

Because some lessons aren’t about knowledge.
They’re about possession.
And now he will learn, breath by breath, what it is to be mine.

 

[Carmina24]

The Engineer

He sits at his desk - screens and laptops glowing, diagrams and lines of code spilling across them like constellations. His fingers move with quiet certainty, shaping logic into order, chaos into clarity.

I pretend to read, to take notes, to care about the output. But what draws me isn’t the document, or the algorithm, or the manual he’s writing.

It’s him.

The way his brow furrows as he solves, the way his lips press together when he thinks. How his hands hover for a moment over the keyboard, or the page, as if they’re conducting an invisible orchestra only he can hear.

His mind is a kind of brilliance that glows through his skin - sharp and precise, yet intimate. It’s the most dangerous part of him. Every line of text he writes, every formula he draws, feels like a secret he’s feeding to me.

And I find myself undressing him not with my eyes, but with my curiosity. Peeling back layer after layer of competence, wanting to see the man beneath the mind. Wanting to taste what his focus would sound like if it broke, if it turned into something raw and breathless.

A notification pings, his head lifts, and for an instant our reflections meet in the dark glass of the monitor - not a direct gaze, but a ghost of one. Enough to feel his presence, his energy, brushing against me like static.

I bite my lip, but inside I am restless.
I want to disturb that perfect composure.
I want to make the genius falter - to see him forget his next command, lose the thread of his thought, unravel brilliance in the heat of my hunger.

The office hums on. The world stays ordinary. But in my head, he’s already undone - logic scattered, precision slipping, his order collapsing in the chaos of me.

Because some systems are built to be breached.
And I am the code that will make him mine.

 

[Carmina24]

The Writer

His pen is a weapon, and I want to be the wound.
Every stroke cuts deeper, every word drags me closer
to the edge of myself.

He doesn’t write love stories.
He writes obsessions,
and I ache to be the one he can’t revise away.

There’s a fire in his craft.
His gift burns. Relentless. Consuming.
Each page he touches smolders with truths
others are too afraid to speak.

He bends language to his will,
wrings beauty from cruelty,
and dares silence to challenge him.
I’ve watched whole worlds bow under the weight of his sentences,
and still I want more.

I want to feel my name scrawled in his margins,
ink running like blood he refuses to staunch.
I want to be the line he rereads in the dark,
the paragraph that stains his hands,
the ending that devours him as much as he devours me.

Because some stories don’t save you.
They mark you.
And if he must ruin me to write me,
let him.

Let the pages bleed.
Let the story break.
I’ll gladly be ruined
if it means I was written by him.

 

[The_Quiet_Man]

But the writer I'm smitten with is a "She"!

 

[dawn_of_night]

But the writer I'm smitten with is a "She"!

Who she?

 

[dawn_of_night]

Is there a LitLay rule that says no one's horny when I am?

 

[Carmina24]

Is there a LitLay rule that says no one's horny when I am?

Dawn, we have an army of erotically charged men here on shifting schedule. There will always be someone here at any given time

 

[Carmina24]

Is there a LitLay rule that says no one's horny when I am?

Guys, let's show some love to Dawn! She is an amazing woman!

 

[Oralexplorer]

COO (Chief Operating Officer) - keeping every moving part synchronized, from spark to climax. @mustang_driver

Just random thought chief operating officer isn't it a bit plain given the end point is climax...my recommendations for consideration are chief orgasm officer or chief orgasmic officer.

 

[dawn_of_night]

Guys, let's show some love to Dawn! She is an amazing woman!

Must be having a dry spell and needed a wing man

 

[naughtysid]

Must be having a dry spell and needed a wing man

I hope it's wet and wonderful now. If you need anything; finger, tongue give us a holler

 

[Carmina24]

Just random thought chief operating officer isn't it a bit plain given the end point is climax...my recommendations for consideration are chief orgasm officer or chief orgasmic officer.

Ooohhh, I like that! Yes!

 

[dawn_of_night]

I hope it's wet and wonderful now. If you need anything; finger, tongue give us a holler

Are there two of you?

 

[naughtysid]

Are there two of you?

No I'm not that big lol

 

[Carmina24]

Just random thought chief operating officer isn't it a bit plain given the end point is climax...my recommendations for consideration are chief orgasm officer or chief orgasmic officer.

Wait, do you already have a role @Oralexplorer ? If not, we should get you one

 

[dawn_of_night]

No I'm not that big lol

Lol.
I thought you said we.....
So? Are you my lit lay tonight?

 

[naughtysid]

Lol.
I thought you said we.....
So? Are you my lit lay tonight?

Oh I see what you mean. I was thinking of "us" as the literotica collective.

 

[Carmina24]

Oh I see what you mean. I was thinking of "us" as the literotica collective.

*Whispers to @naughtysid* Say yes

 

[naughtysid]

Lol.
I thought you said we.....
So? Are you my lit lay tonight?

P.S., yes please

 

[dawn_of_night]

Oh I see what you mean. I was thinking of "us" as the literotica collective.

Right .....
Well .... I suppose Indo have eligible other holes.....