Great Story Idea!!!
- Thread starter mjl2010
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A
AsylumSeeker
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Too Vague
Why not add a few more elements? Perhaps she's on the run from a bad marriage, thinks her hubby is out to get her. The man just lost his wife in a tragic accident, sees no point in living. They meet in an unlikely collision in the lobby, take an interest in each other...
Or not.
I think someone should write a story about this couple. They meet in a hotel and get it on, hot and sexy.
Anyone think this is a good idea?
OK I'm running and hiding now.
Why not add a few more elements? Perhaps she's on the run from a bad marriage, thinks her hubby is out to get her. The man just lost his wife in a tragic accident, sees no point in living. They meet in an unlikely collision in the lobby, take an interest in each other...
Or not.
GratefulFred
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Sorry Carney, but just because god maybe cursed you with a little 10 inch cock doesn't mean we need to ruin some people's Fantasies_only.
And MJL sounds like you are looking for another romance story. You do remember my first.
An AsylumSeeker that was ONE great idea you have, but it could use a few more elements.
mjl2010
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Romance is good. I like romance.
Let's see. So Mr. Ten Inch is walking through the lobby of the hotel when Ms. Lotsa Hooter comes around the corner, preceeded by her extravagantly endowments and not seeing him, knocks him out when she turns, her bodacious tata's smacking him along side the head.
When he comes to, all he can see is the verdant valley but it's not green. Then he realizes it's her cleavage and finally looks up at her. He is immediately in love and she is sorry she knocked him out with her knockers. So they go up to his room and ....
Ok more help now please.
G
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"Ah'm sew sorrah, Mawster Inch. Cud Ahh puersuade y'all ta cum in and have a little sweeaht teah?"
DarkBee
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That's a whole lot of woman, when she has a 44' chest... And what's up with the Americans and DD-cups? There are bigger breasts than that, you know. Why not make her a 36/38 E or even bigger if you want to exaggerate it.
mjl2010
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When I finally get around to his taking her bra off, he's going to notice the tag from the custom bra shop says they are 38 HHH with built in steel supports and a clasp in back made by the vice grip company.
Unfortunately, she was poorly measured and the bra is too small and too tight.
MJL
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RedHairedandFriendly
Too much red on Red?
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DarkBee
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Hmm... you know... I've got 42" DD... Am I a "whole lot of woman" ?
Hm... 230 pounds? I'd say yes (not that it matters though, I like my women with a nice bit of flesh on their bones, see my AV and maybe you remember my previous AV).
Great sig, btw, I have that same line as my MSN screenname a while ago.
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mjl2010
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Hmm... you know... I've got 42" DD... Am I a "whole lot of woman" ?
Red,
The measure of a woman is not her breast size. I've known women who could be models for mens mags who were about as sexy as toads in a mud puddle, and other women who'd never fit in an airline bathroom who were sexy as hell. It's all in the part that's between her ears.
Now. Back to our ridiculous story which now includes Red as the main star who just had record breaking implant surgery....
MJL
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A
AsylumSeeker
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Here's an idea
His wife was dead, pushing up daisies. Only they weren't daisies, but four-leaf clovers. There was a mess of them around her headstone. Roger kept pulling them up, but there seemed to be an inexhaustible supply. Maybe that was his punishment for the inscription... the words were unimportant, but the leading characters spelled out B-I-T-C-H. He thought it clever when he first thought of it. He wasn't so sure anymore.
Weren't four-leaf clovers supposed to be GOOD luck? Why was he broke, down to his last few bucks? Who would've thought the bitch could've left the insurance unpaid so she could even things up with the hospital? It was his fault for marrying such a ditzy broad in the first place. The blonde hair should've clued him in from the start.
But he loved blondes. He wasn't exactly sure why. Blondes and big tits; forty-four magnums. The bigger the better, he liked to say. He loved the idea of burying his stiff cock between them. Only lately, his cock wasn't as stiff as it used to be. Stiff had become a relative term. His deceased wife was probably stiffer than he was, and could get. Wasn't that ironic.
He didn't wait for the eviction notice.
"Fuck it, go out in style," he muttered under his breath. "Charge up this plastic blood-sucker and then take a dive. They say it's quick from twenty floors up."
Half a city away, Frida was frantic. Her husband was drunk again, having found a stashed bottle of high-octane booze from under a couch cushion before she had a chance to take it away. Her large breast painfully bounced against her chest as she evaded his flinging arms.
"Call me in sick, you worthless bitch!" her drunk husband declared. "They're goddamned lucky to have me, those idiots. I'll be in late, you tell'em that. Fuckers better not be fucking off, either, I'll can their wothless asses!"
From opposite sides of the city Roger, and Frida, fled to the presumed safety of a new, towering hotel, advertised to be an urban paradise. The perfect place to end one's miserable life.
His wife was dead, pushing up daisies. Only they weren't daisies, but four-leaf clovers. There was a mess of them around her headstone. Roger kept pulling them up, but there seemed to be an inexhaustible supply. Maybe that was his punishment for the inscription... the words were unimportant, but the leading characters spelled out B-I-T-C-H. He thought it clever when he first thought of it. He wasn't so sure anymore.
Weren't four-leaf clovers supposed to be GOOD luck? Why was he broke, down to his last few bucks? Who would've thought the bitch could've left the insurance unpaid so she could even things up with the hospital? It was his fault for marrying such a ditzy broad in the first place. The blonde hair should've clued him in from the start.
But he loved blondes. He wasn't exactly sure why. Blondes and big tits; forty-four magnums. The bigger the better, he liked to say. He loved the idea of burying his stiff cock between them. Only lately, his cock wasn't as stiff as it used to be. Stiff had become a relative term. His deceased wife was probably stiffer than he was, and could get. Wasn't that ironic.
He didn't wait for the eviction notice.
"Fuck it, go out in style," he muttered under his breath. "Charge up this plastic blood-sucker and then take a dive. They say it's quick from twenty floors up."
Half a city away, Frida was frantic. Her husband was drunk again, having found a stashed bottle of high-octane booze from under a couch cushion before she had a chance to take it away. Her large breast painfully bounced against her chest as she evaded his flinging arms.
"Call me in sick, you worthless bitch!" her drunk husband declared. "They're goddamned lucky to have me, those idiots. I'll be in late, you tell'em that. Fuckers better not be fucking off, either, I'll can their wothless asses!"
From opposite sides of the city Roger, and Frida, fled to the presumed safety of a new, towering hotel, advertised to be an urban paradise. The perfect place to end one's miserable life.
Its a great idea, though a bit trite.
I actually did that this weekend with my wife for her 50th birthday, motel rather than a hotel.
Props available in hotels (or motels) include some nice ammenities like hot tubs, privacy, other people(!), spas and of course 'room service'.
That one story line is strange however. My wife does look for four-leaf clovers, and did actually find one this weekend.
Rather creepy.
I actually did that this weekend with my wife for her 50th birthday, motel rather than a hotel.
Props available in hotels (or motels) include some nice ammenities like hot tubs, privacy, other people(!), spas and of course 'room service'.
That one story line is strange however. My wife does look for four-leaf clovers, and did actually find one this weekend.
Rather creepy.
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mjl2010
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You're kidding right? This is a great story we've got going here.
Just you wait, Roger and Frida are going to have incredibly Kinky wild sex sometime within the next 4000 posts.
My only fear is that we've corrupted Asylumseeker beyond all recognition and he has joined the Grateful Freddy Band. Life may never be the same now that his keyboard is fixed.
MJL
Not really. Attached pic is a "whole lot of woman".Hmm... you know... I've got 42" DD... Am I a "whole lot of woman" ?
RedHairedandFriendly
Too much red on Red?
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Umm... yuck. *shudders* I can't even find an emoticon to express the "eww" I am feeling right now.
GratefulFred
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Ok MJL...here's a simple story to get your heart pumping...
It was around 11 pm in the middle of a downpour as Bob found himself looking for a hotel. He could vaguely make out what appeared to be a Motel 6 but even was unsure of that. He rushed into the empty lobby soaked just hoping that a room was available. He was in luck as the inn keeper gave him a key. He rushed into his room threw off his clothes and jumped into a nice hot shower.
Slowly he chilled out under the hot water. He just breathed in the hot steam trying to not concentrate on anything save the water massaging his neck. After some time he emerged rejuvinated and changed into a set of dry clothes, grateful of the little comforts a clean set of clothes can offer. The TV was on about some car accident.
He felt his luck was turning finding this hotel in the middle of nowhere. He descended through the lobby towards the bar to see if he could get a bite to eat. The place was fairly empty understandably so. He was the only one in the bar but that was fine so long as he could get a nice steak and a beer. The inn keeper was doubling as the chef it seems as he came over with a menu. The menu had 1 item a 20 ounce rib eye stake and was priced at $9.95.
Bob looked at the inn keeper/waiter and had a big smile on his face. The inn keeper/waiter took his order and brought a 16 oz frosty mug draft beer compliments of the hotel. Bob looked around for a casino machine as he'd surely hit the jackpot.
Bob dived into the best steak he had had in his lifetime. It was seasoned and cooked to perfection. The TV was flashing some news story about some terrible accident no doubt caused by the rain.
A girl walked into the bar and looked around. She saw Bob and smiled. Bob felt like luck had gone his way and smiled back. The girl asked if she could join Bob. The inn keeper/waiter came over and Bob couldn't help himself and told her how they had the best steaks.
Gabriella ordered a steak and she was brought a complimentary glass of wine. The two started to speak about this night.
"Did you also just make it through the storm?" Gabriella asked.
"I have never been in such a rain storm. I almost crashed" Bob responded.
"Me too. Worst I have ever been in" Gabriella responded. "I hope you don't mind me joining you but it's so empty in this hotel"
"No. I am glad you stopped by. It is empty and I could use the company" Bob responded as the two drank slightly nervously.
A full bottle of wine was given as compliments and Bob just couldn't believe how this evening was changing around. Gabriella tried her cell phone and as suspected the service was out.
The TV kept on talking about some car accident that night. Bob wished it would talk about other things.
After sometime the two spoke on a personal level and both were felling fairly relaxed.
Bob, used a fairly stupid come on line and Gabriella smiled, leaned over and kissed Bob breathing over so slightly in his ear.
No words were needed as Bob reached his hand and Gabriella gladly took it.
The two went up to Bob's room and they tore into one another racing to undress. The rain was blasting against the window but their passion was loud as could be. Bob ignored the television he must have left on not wanting to take a chance that this unbelievably sexy babe would bolt.
He licked at her nipples as she worked at his belt buckle. She was purring for him to be inside her and with half his jeans and underware down he got inside her. The made wild sexy hot steamy love in every imaginable way. Bob had never had it as wild as that. Gabriella was the girl of his dreams.
After finishing they cuddled in each others arms listening to their breathes slowly subsiding. Between their legs they were able to notice the news and slowly Bob watched as Gabriella sat up. Bob watched as Gabriella started crying. He couldn't understand. Was it love? What was it?
Bob looked at the news show and saw what Gabriella saw. Bob saw two cars off the road. He recognized the car - it was his. He watched as his body fell outside the drivers door next to that of Gabriella's.
The sign of the hotel blinked on and off. It was Hotel 666. Bob felt a lump in the back of his throat as he looked out at the never ending rain.
The End
It was around 11 pm in the middle of a downpour as Bob found himself looking for a hotel. He could vaguely make out what appeared to be a Motel 6 but even was unsure of that. He rushed into the empty lobby soaked just hoping that a room was available. He was in luck as the inn keeper gave him a key. He rushed into his room threw off his clothes and jumped into a nice hot shower.
Slowly he chilled out under the hot water. He just breathed in the hot steam trying to not concentrate on anything save the water massaging his neck. After some time he emerged rejuvinated and changed into a set of dry clothes, grateful of the little comforts a clean set of clothes can offer. The TV was on about some car accident.
He felt his luck was turning finding this hotel in the middle of nowhere. He descended through the lobby towards the bar to see if he could get a bite to eat. The place was fairly empty understandably so. He was the only one in the bar but that was fine so long as he could get a nice steak and a beer. The inn keeper was doubling as the chef it seems as he came over with a menu. The menu had 1 item a 20 ounce rib eye stake and was priced at $9.95.
Bob looked at the inn keeper/waiter and had a big smile on his face. The inn keeper/waiter took his order and brought a 16 oz frosty mug draft beer compliments of the hotel. Bob looked around for a casino machine as he'd surely hit the jackpot.
Bob dived into the best steak he had had in his lifetime. It was seasoned and cooked to perfection. The TV was flashing some news story about some terrible accident no doubt caused by the rain.
A girl walked into the bar and looked around. She saw Bob and smiled. Bob felt like luck had gone his way and smiled back. The girl asked if she could join Bob. The inn keeper/waiter came over and Bob couldn't help himself and told her how they had the best steaks.
Gabriella ordered a steak and she was brought a complimentary glass of wine. The two started to speak about this night.
"Did you also just make it through the storm?" Gabriella asked.
"I have never been in such a rain storm. I almost crashed" Bob responded.
"Me too. Worst I have ever been in" Gabriella responded. "I hope you don't mind me joining you but it's so empty in this hotel"
"No. I am glad you stopped by. It is empty and I could use the company" Bob responded as the two drank slightly nervously.
A full bottle of wine was given as compliments and Bob just couldn't believe how this evening was changing around. Gabriella tried her cell phone and as suspected the service was out.
The TV kept on talking about some car accident that night. Bob wished it would talk about other things.
After sometime the two spoke on a personal level and both were felling fairly relaxed.
Bob, used a fairly stupid come on line and Gabriella smiled, leaned over and kissed Bob breathing over so slightly in his ear.
No words were needed as Bob reached his hand and Gabriella gladly took it.
The two went up to Bob's room and they tore into one another racing to undress. The rain was blasting against the window but their passion was loud as could be. Bob ignored the television he must have left on not wanting to take a chance that this unbelievably sexy babe would bolt.
He licked at her nipples as she worked at his belt buckle. She was purring for him to be inside her and with half his jeans and underware down he got inside her. The made wild sexy hot steamy love in every imaginable way. Bob had never had it as wild as that. Gabriella was the girl of his dreams.
After finishing they cuddled in each others arms listening to their breathes slowly subsiding. Between their legs they were able to notice the news and slowly Bob watched as Gabriella sat up. Bob watched as Gabriella started crying. He couldn't understand. Was it love? What was it?
Bob looked at the news show and saw what Gabriella saw. Bob saw two cars off the road. He recognized the car - it was his. He watched as his body fell outside the drivers door next to that of Gabriella's.
The sign of the hotel blinked on and off. It was Hotel 666. Bob felt a lump in the back of his throat as he looked out at the never ending rain.
The End
GratefulFred
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Rod Serling, Richard Matheson and Douglas Adams sum up my writing.
GratefulFred
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I hope Asylum throws some stuff up as well.
Glad you liked it MJL and I hope I didn't telegraph my punch too much.
Glad you liked it MJL and I hope I didn't telegraph my punch too much.
A
AsylumSeeker
Guest
Okay, my next installment
Casey drove the vehicle between two squad cars and thrust the transmission into ‘Park’. He vacated the drab brown sedan and adjusted his tie after noticing the crowd and two camera crews.
“I should’ve listened to the wife and bought that new one,” he barked to his partner.
Willy smiled and shook his head in playful disbelief. “You ain’t never gonna be no damned action star, I don’t give a damn what tie you’re wearing.”
Casey looked hurt and complained, “Willy, you’re damaging my self-esteem!”
“You’re self-esteem… never mind, do your fuckin’ job, honcho,” Willy suggested.
Willy was born and raised in the same city he now policed. Casey was an import, a transfer from a different district, with lofty aspirations of being much, more than a police detective. They all knew it wouldn’t happen; he had a much better chance of being killed in the line of duty than finding himself on the pages of some celebrity magazine.
A uniformed officer was laughing as he exited the victim’s home. “Hey Casey, I’ll bet even you can figure out the COD on this one without the coroner.”
Casey was intrigued as he climbed the five steps and entered the home. The vic was lying on the living room carpet, a bullet hole in his chest. Red blood had leaked around the entrance wound and down his chest, pooling on the floor. A note which had been placed on his body simply read, “Shot through chest, has no heart.”
“Forty-four,” a neighbor, who had walked in on the scene, informed them.
But Willy was a seasoned veteran. “No, that’s a thirty-eight,” he corrected the bystander.
“A forty-four killed him,” the stranger insisted. “I don’t care what you found in his chest.”
Casey drove the vehicle between two squad cars and thrust the transmission into ‘Park’. He vacated the drab brown sedan and adjusted his tie after noticing the crowd and two camera crews.
“I should’ve listened to the wife and bought that new one,” he barked to his partner.
Willy smiled and shook his head in playful disbelief. “You ain’t never gonna be no damned action star, I don’t give a damn what tie you’re wearing.”
Casey looked hurt and complained, “Willy, you’re damaging my self-esteem!”
“You’re self-esteem… never mind, do your fuckin’ job, honcho,” Willy suggested.
Willy was born and raised in the same city he now policed. Casey was an import, a transfer from a different district, with lofty aspirations of being much, more than a police detective. They all knew it wouldn’t happen; he had a much better chance of being killed in the line of duty than finding himself on the pages of some celebrity magazine.
A uniformed officer was laughing as he exited the victim’s home. “Hey Casey, I’ll bet even you can figure out the COD on this one without the coroner.”
Casey was intrigued as he climbed the five steps and entered the home. The vic was lying on the living room carpet, a bullet hole in his chest. Red blood had leaked around the entrance wound and down his chest, pooling on the floor. A note which had been placed on his body simply read, “Shot through chest, has no heart.”
“Forty-four,” a neighbor, who had walked in on the scene, informed them.
But Willy was a seasoned veteran. “No, that’s a thirty-eight,” he corrected the bystander.
“A forty-four killed him,” the stranger insisted. “I don’t care what you found in his chest.”
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