Erotic Fantascenes

[lance gt]

Here's your pic posted....

http://www.photorox.com/images/kimi81/85511825full983300fa0629ca160b3e4e5265476ff6.jpg

She stood there. Following his instructions to the letter. Put on display for all to look at. She watched the eyes of passersby and saw their leers, raping her, violating her. She became wet. Wet with the desire to be taken, but she knew it was him, only him that had the ability to light her up inside.

Her impatience grew, restless and anxious for her desires to be filled. Raising her foot, she inched her skirt higher, knowing it was her duty to do. Longer came the looks and shouts now. Bared to everyone was her arousal, shaved, pink, wet.

Wider. She knew she had to spread wider for him. Expose herself to him, let him know she was his to own. Fingers touching, her petals splayed in bloom. She offered her self to the world to see. On-lookers stopping, whispered lusts spoken by strange lovers.

Closing her eyes, she knows she is safe from them. But she must perform for them. It is his command to make her do it. She must obey.

Shudders and moans play out her ordered passion, his command the necessary words for her to hear, to know he loves her. She is his. This is his wish for her to fulfill. She will obey.

Quivering strands, liquid, shimmering, drizzling her honey for them to see, but never savour of it's delight. It is for him. She is done. Given of herself in his name. He is happy, many are happy. She knows she has done well.

He calls to her. She smiles and goes to his arms, ready to take her. A smile, letting her know his pleasure is filled by her. Eyes filled with mutual lust, sharing a secret moment.

Walking away, they laugh, holding hands. A toss of her hand and her panties flutter away, laughing as they fall. Hands and feet scurry to claim their possession.

Eyes turn to look. Watch her legs and ass sway in seductive movement, knowing how wet their junction is. Wishing they were him.

 

[Lorilei]

She stood there. Following his instructions to the letter. Put on display for all to look at. She watched the eyes of passersby and saw their leers, raping her, violating her. She became wet. Wet with the desire to be taken, but she knew it was him, only him that had the ability to light her up inside.

Her impatience grew, restless and anxious for her desires to be filled. Raising her foot, she inched her skirt higher, knowing it was her duty to do. Longer came the looks and shouts now. Bared to everyone was her arousal, shaved, pink, wet.

Wider. She knew she had to spread wider for him. Expose herself to him, let him know she was his to own. Fingers touching, her petals splayed in bloom. She offered her self to the world to see. On-lookers stopping, whispered lusts spoken by strange lovers.

Closing her eyes, she knows she is safe from them. But she must perform for them. It is his command to make her do it. She must obey.

Shudders and moans play out her ordered passion, his command the necessary words for her to hear, to know he loves her. She is his. This is his wish for her to fulfill. She will obey.

Quivering strands, liquid, shimmering, drizzling her honey for them to see, but never savour of it's delight. It is for him. She is done. Given of herself in his name. He is happy, many are happy. She knows she has done well.

He calls to her. She smiles and goes to his arms, ready to take her. A smile, letting her know his pleasure is filled by her. Eyes filled with mutual lust, sharing a secret moment.

Walking away, they laugh, holding hands. A toss of her hand and her panties flutter away, laughing as they fall. Hands and feet scurry to claim their possession.

Eyes turn to look. Watch her legs and ass sway in seductive movement, knowing how wet their junction is. Wishing they were him.

This is wonderful!

 

[lance gt]

This is wonderful!

Ty Lori

 

[agedmac]

She stood there. Following his instructions to the letter. Put on display for all to look at. She watched the eyes of passersby and saw their leers, raping her, violating her. She became wet. Wet with the desire to be taken, but she knew it was him, only him that had the ability to light her up inside.

Her impatience grew, restless and anxious for her desires to be filled. Raising her foot, she inched her skirt higher, knowing it was her duty to do. Longer came the looks and shouts now. Bared to everyone was her arousal, shaved, pink, wet.

Wider. She knew she had to spread wider for him. Expose herself to him, let him know she was his to own. Fingers touching, her petals splayed in bloom. She offered her self to the world to see. On-lookers stopping, whispered lusts spoken by strange lovers.

Closing her eyes, she knows she is safe from them. But she must perform for them. It is his command to make her do it. She must obey.

Shudders and moans play out her ordered passion, his command the necessary words for her to hear, to know he loves her. She is his. This is his wish for her to fulfill. She will obey.

Quivering strands, liquid, shimmering, drizzling her honey for them to see, but never savour of it's delight. It is for him. She is done. Given of herself in his name. He is happy, many are happy. She knows she has done well.

He calls to her. She smiles and goes to his arms, ready to take her. A smile, letting her know his pleasure is filled by her. Eyes filled with mutual lust, sharing a secret moment.

Walking away, they laugh, holding hands. A toss of her hand and her panties flutter away, laughing as they fall. Hands and feet scurry to claim their possession.

Eyes turn to look. Watch her legs and ass sway in seductive movement, knowing how wet their junction is. Wishing they were him.

Great job!

Here's my take.

She shivered. What made her think he would come here? Oh, he said he would. Meeting on Lit, they seemed to share a sense of wonder about sensuality. She had teased him when she realized he would be visiting her city soon. She had told him about the location. A nice trail through a wooded area and at the end of the trail, just off the area, was this abandoned building. As a young person, it had been a favorite 'make out' site for young couples but now the area had become seedy and not used. But she remembered meeting boys here and being touched and caressed and even making love.

But that was then. Now, she is at the end of a bad marriage and she wants. God, she wants to feel again. To feel sexy. To feel wanted. To feel a strong man's hands on her body. So, when he said he was coming in the spring, she had arranged this meeting.

And now? She shivered again. It wasn't cold, why shivering? Because she knew this was crazy! She's not the type to dress like this! She had borrowed the clothes out of her college aged daughter's closet and yeah, maybe she looked good in the dress, but maybe she should have worn something underneath it!

And now. He isn't here. She puts the heel of her shoe against the old brick wall, remembering her youth again. Remembering boys wanting her. But that was a long time ago and maybe he got cold feet or realized this is crazy or.....

She started to push off the wall and heard his voice. "God, please don't move!" came his voice. She looked forward as he stepped through the opening in the trees and approached her. He had an expressive face, great eyes and a soft, kissable mouth. She leaned against the wall, the roughness of the stones rubbing her ass through the skirt as he moved in front of her. His hands moved forward and touched her jaw line and his mouth lowered to hers.

She felt the soft wetness spread between her legs and she knew that she was...

wanted.

 

[lance gt]

Nicely done, Take a page of life from here and display the words that are hidden from view from us. What fluid lives we lead.

 

[Tricialen]

She stood there. Following his instructions to the letter. Put on display for all to look at. She watched the eyes of passersby and saw their leers, raping her, violating her. She became wet. Wet with the desire to be taken, but she knew it was him, only him that had the ability to light her up inside.

Her impatience grew, restless and anxious for her desires to be filled. Raising her foot, she inched her skirt higher, knowing it was her duty to do. Longer came the looks and shouts now. Bared to everyone was her arousal, shaved, pink, wet.

Wider. She knew she had to spread wider for him. Expose herself to him, let him know she was his to own. Fingers touching, her petals splayed in bloom. She offered her self to the world to see. On-lookers stopping, whispered lusts spoken by strange lovers.

Closing her eyes, she knows she is safe from them. But she must perform for them. It is his command to make her do it. She must obey.

Shudders and moans play out her ordered passion, his command the necessary words for her to hear, to know he loves her. She is his. This is his wish for her to fulfill. She will obey.

Quivering strands, liquid, shimmering, drizzling her honey for them to see, but never savour of it's delight. It is for him. She is done. Given of herself in his name. He is happy, many are happy. She knows she has done well.

He calls to her. She smiles and goes to his arms, ready to take her. A smile, letting her know his pleasure is filled by her. Eyes filled with mutual lust, sharing a secret moment.

Walking away, they laugh, holding hands. A toss of her hand and her panties flutter away, laughing as they fall. Hands and feet scurry to claim their possession.

Eyes turn to look. Watch her legs and ass sway in seductive movement, knowing how wet their junction is. Wishing they were him.

Beautiful...makes me wish I were her...walking away with you

 

[RyanBlack]

I heard the front door open and close and my stomach did a back flip as I thought, Alone again! I knew I should get up. I was wide awake after all. But I just couldn't bring myself to climb out of the warm cozy bed. I was still laid half on my front under the light cover, my breasts pressed into the crisp warm sheets, a leg parted and the other straight so my pussy was agape and my clit just faintly touched the sheets. If I pushed my hips down a fraction I could grind my clit against the mattress and ease the tingle that seemed almost constant lately.

Closing my eyes again I slid my hand down under the covers and I cupped my breast, squeezing my nipple between my fingers. I pressed my hips into the mattress, grinding my clit against it and moaned softly at the feel. My pussy was beginning to moisten and I wanted to touch it so badly, but I knew the door was open and I thought I shouldn't tempt fate so much.

I got the sudden sensation of being watched and opened my eyes to stare at the door. He stood there, leaning against the door frame, his arms folded over his bare chest. He was still in jeans. Whether they were the ones he’d mown the lawn in or a new pair it didn't matter. They hugged his hips and legs so nicely, showing off his impressive bulge; I had to swallow because believe it or not my mouth had begun to water.

The light from the hall shone on his back casting his features in shadows and all I could make out was his gleaming eyes and that predatory smile.

He was the kind of man who never asked for permission. He didn’t wonder what other people wanted nor did he struggle with making “the right” choices. He knew what he wanted and did what he wanted and even the concept of “angst” was foreign to him.

It isn’t that he didn’t care what others wanted or needed from him; this man was very good at reading them. He was a watcher; someone who spoke rarely and listened carefully before making choices or taking action.

Last night, hearing the soft whimper come from behind her door as she had touched herself was only another piece of data for an equation about to be solved.

She lay in the bed unaware of him as he watched her hips circle under the thin white cotton sheet; she was pressing her sex down against the mattress. He watched her.

He made no sound as he watched, but she must have sensed his presence and she turned to look for her audience—knowing already it would be no one else.

He smiled and then walked into the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

He knew what he wanted; so did she.

Rolling fully on to her back she clutched at the white sheet pulling it up to her chin. Her toes curled still showed at the foot of the bed nearest him and her nipples, hardened under the sheet giving away any hope she might have had at denial.

The look of hunger never left his face. His eyes did not wander up and down her body appraising her, that valuation had long since been done. Instead, without a glance or even a sound, he simply lowered his hands, hard and calloused, darkened from working in the sun and building things to the sheet and bunched the cotton fabric. There was no doubt that in one movement he could have stripped her modesty from her.

The pull was relentless, but not strong enough to stubbornly fight off if she really tried.

He forced her to give in, to choose him inch by inch as the sheet slipped lower. He drained any resistance to him one handful of soft woven white fabric at a time.

She fought the hardest as the sheet reached her waist even as her thighs parted under what was left of the sheet.

His eyes still did not roam her body, but stayed locked to her face.
Finally the last barrier lay piled on the floor, the last hope for propriety gone with the last shred of resistance.

She should want it dark, but she didn't. Finally his eyes moved from her face to her body and back up again, assesing her as a piece of art.

She saw his lips part and the smile evaporate, not because he wasnt pleased with what he saw, but because he did. Just as the sheet had left her bare to him, her body had left his face bare to her.

It was then in his face, she saw how beautiful she was.

 

[lance gt]

Ryan, I love this vignette you've been writing. Take it as far as you can. I admire your mind and where it's going to.

 

[Lorilei]

Rolling fully on to her back she clutched at the white sheet pulling it up to her chin. Her toes curled still showed at the foot of the bed nearest him and her nipples, hardened under the sheet giving away any hope she might have had at denial.

The look of hunger never left his face. His eyes did not wander up and down her body appraising her, that valuation had long since been done. Instead, without a glance or even a sound, he simply lowered his hands, hard and calloused, darkened from working in the sun and building things to the sheet and bunched the cotton fabric. There was no doubt that in one movement he could have stripped her modesty from her.

The pull was relentless, but not strong enough to stubbornly fight off if she really tried.

He forced her to give in, to choose him inch by inch as the sheet slipped lower. He drained any resistance to him her one handful of soft woven white fabric at a time.

She fought the hardest as the sheet reached her waist even as her thighs parted under what was left of the sheet.

His eyes still did not roam her body, but stayed locked to her face.
Finally the last barrier lay piled on the floor, the last hope for propriety gone with the last shred of resistance.

She should want it dark, but she didn't. Finally his eyes moved from her face to her body and back up again, assesing her as a piece of art.

She saw his lips part and the smile evaporate, not because he wasnt pleased with what he saw, but because he did. Just as the sheet had left her bare to him, her body had left his face bare to her.

It was then in his face, she saw how beautiful she was.

This is fantastic. It made me all melty and squishy inside.

 

[misfortunex]

This is fantastic. It made me all melty and squishy inside.

I would highlight the lines exactly as Lori did.

The last two lines pull that whole part together. It's as tho the whole of part three is preparing us for those lines.

It also made me read slowly, at the speed the sheet was being dragged off........mooooooooore *groans*

 

[RyanBlack]

Ryan, I love this vignette you've been writing. Take it as far as you can. I admire your mind and where it's going to.

This is fantastic. It made me all melty and squishy inside.

I would highlight the lines exactly as Lori did.

The last two lines pull that whole part together. It's as tho the whole of part three is preparing us for those lines.

It also made me read slowly, at the speed the sheet was being dragged off........mooooooooore *groans*

Thank you very much I am grateful to each of you for taking the time to read and comment.

Lance and Mac---great stuff!!! Im still working my way around to posting on that pic---but yours are both fantastic

 

[Roxanne_Smith69]

Rolling fully on to her back she clutched at the white sheet pulling it up to her chin. Her toes curled still showed at the foot of the bed nearest him and her nipples, hardened under the sheet giving away any hope she might have had at denial.

The look of hunger never left his face. His eyes did not wander up and down her body appraising her, that valuation had long since been done. Instead, without a glance or even a sound, he simply lowered his hands, hard and calloused, darkened from working in the sun and building things to the sheet and bunched the cotton fabric. There was no doubt that in one movement he could have stripped her modesty from her.

The pull was relentless, but not strong enough to stubbornly fight off if she really tried.

He forced her to give in, to choose him inch by inch as the sheet slipped lower. He drained any resistance to him one handful of soft woven white fabric at a time.

She fought the hardest as the sheet reached her waist even as her thighs parted under what was left of the sheet.

His eyes still did not roam her body, but stayed locked to her face.
Finally the last barrier lay piled on the floor, the last hope for propriety gone with the last shred of resistance.

She should want it dark, but she didn't. Finally his eyes moved from her face to her body and back up again, assesing her as a piece of art.

She saw his lips part and the smile evaporate, not because he wasnt pleased with what he saw, but because he did. Just as the sheet had left her bare to him, her body had left his face bare to her.

It was then in his face, she saw how beautiful she was.

*gulp* OMG. Just ... OMG.

I had to remind myself to breathe during this one ... Each vignette built that tension ... Damn Ryan. You need to make a living doing this. Seriously my friend.

Rox

 

[Roxanne_Smith69]

Darn -- I don't see this thread for just a few days and everyone is posting all these amazing stories! Lance and AgedMac -- wonderfully different scenarios for the picture.

God I *LOVE* this thread!!!

Rox

 

[sweet_dee]

Great job!

Here's my take.

She shivered. What made her think he would come here? Oh, he said he would. Meeting on Lit, they seemed to share a sense of wonder about sensuality. She had teased him when she realized he would be visiting her city soon. She had told him about the location. A nice trail through a wooded area and at the end of the trail, just off the area, was this abandoned building. As a young person, it had been a favorite 'make out' site for young couples but now the area had become seedy and not used. But she remembered meeting boys here and being touched and caressed and even making love.

But that was then. Now, she is at the end of a bad marriage and she wants. God, she wants to feel again. To feel sexy. To feel wanted. To feel a strong man's hands on her body. So, when he said he was coming in the spring, she had arranged this meeting.

And now? She shivered again. It wasn't cold, why shivering? Because she knew this was crazy! She's not the type to dress like this! She had borrowed the clothes out of her college aged daughter's closet and yeah, maybe she looked good in the dress, but maybe she should have worn something underneath it!

And now. He isn't here. She puts the heel of her shoe against the old brick wall, remembering her youth again. Remembering boys wanting her. But that was a long time ago and maybe he got cold feet or realized this is crazy or.....

She started to push off the wall and heard his voice. "God, please don't move!" came his voice. She looked forward as he stepped through the opening in the trees and approached her. He had an expressive face, great eyes and a soft, kissable mouth. She leaned against the wall, the roughness of the stones rubbing her ass through the skirt as he moved in front of her. His hands moved forward and touched her jaw line and his mouth lowered to hers.

She felt the soft wetness spread between her legs and she knew that she was...

wanted.

That was amazing story to the picture... I love how you ended it, it makes my mind race....thinking and dreaming up what happens next.

 

[sweet_dee]

*gulp* OMG. Just ... OMG.

I had to remind myself to breathe during this one ... Each vignette built that tension ... Damn Ryan. You need to make a living doing this. Seriously my friend.

Rox

Ryan, I must say I totally agree with everything Rox said... I just couldn't wait to see what you came up with next. I'm think I'm still trying to catch my breath... =P You're an incredible writer.

 

[RyanBlack]

I heard the front door open and close and my stomach did a back flip as I thought, Alone again! I knew I should get up. I was wide awake after all. But I just couldn't bring myself to climb out of the warm cozy bed. I was still laid half on my front under the light cover, my breasts pressed into the crisp warm sheets, a leg parted and the other straight so my pussy was agape and my clit just faintly touched the sheets. If I pushed my hips down a fraction I could grind my clit against the mattress and ease the tingle that seemed almost constant lately.

Closing my eyes again I slid my hand down under the covers and I cupped my breast, squeezing my nipple between my fingers. I pressed my hips into the mattress, grinding my clit against it and moaned softly at the feel. My pussy was beginning to moisten and I wanted to touch it so badly, but I knew the door was open and I thought I shouldn't tempt fate so much.

I got the sudden sensation of being watched and opened my eyes to stare at the door. He stood there, leaning against the door frame, his arms folded over his bare chest. He was still in jeans. Whether they were the ones he’d mown the lawn in or a new pair it didn't matter. They hugged his hips and legs so nicely, showing off his impressive bulge; I had to swallow because believe it or not my mouth had begun to water.

The light from the hall shone on his back casting his features in shadows and all I could make out was his gleaming eyes and that predatory smile.

He was the kind of man who never asked for permission. He didn’t wonder what other people wanted nor did he struggle with making “the right” choices. He knew what he wanted and did what he wanted and even the concept of “angst” was foreign to him.

It isn’t that he didn’t care what others wanted or needed from him; this man was very good at reading them. He was a watcher; someone who spoke rarely and listened carefully before making choices or taking action.

Last night, hearing the soft whimper come from behind her door as she had touched herself was only another piece of data for an equation about to be solved.

She lay in the bed unaware of him as he watched her hips circle under the thin white cotton sheet; she was pressing her sex down against the mattress. He watched her.

He made no sound as he watched, but she must have sensed his presence and she turned to look for her audience—knowing already it would be no one else.

He smiled and then walked into the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

He knew what he wanted; so did she.

Rolling fully on to her back she clutched at the white sheet pulling it up to her chin. Her toes curled still showed at the foot of the bed nearest him and her nipples, hardened under the sheet giving away any hope she might have had at denial.

The look of hunger never left his face. His eyes did not wander up and down her body appraising her, that valuation had long since been done. Instead, without a glance or even a sound, he simply lowered his hands, hard and calloused, darkened from working in the sun and building things to the sheet and bunched the cotton fabric. There was no doubt that in one movement he could have stripped her modesty from her.

The pull was relentless, but not strong enough to stubbornly fight off if she really tried.

He forced her to give in, to choose him inch by inch as the sheet slipped lower. He drained any resistance to him one handful of soft woven white fabric at a time.

She fought the hardest as the sheet reached her waist even as her thighs parted under what was left of the sheet.

His eyes still did not roam her body, but stayed locked to her face.
Finally the last barrier lay piled on the floor, the last hope for propriety gone with the last shred of resistance.

She should want it dark, but she didn't. Finally his eyes moved from her face to her body and back up again, assesing her as a piece of art.

She saw his lips part and the smile evaporate, not because he wasnt pleased with what he saw, but because he did. Just as the sheet had left her bare to him, her body had left his face bare to her.

It was then in his face, she saw how beautiful she was.

The expression on his face was magic.

The deepest sort of magic that has existed since man and woman were created for each other. The kind of magic the battle of Troy was waged for, that gives poets and song writers purpose. It was the kind of magic she found in a small room with sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and a rumpled pile of sheet pooled on the floor at the foot of her bed. It was a silent magic that resulted in the same music playing in two souls.

The wall in her mind and her heart collapsed; not with an explosion, or brick by mortared brick as she thought it might happen one day if she ever met the “right” man.

It simply evaporated without regret or recrimination. Not even the tattered remnants of a foundation laid over so many years of one relationship mistake after another remained for her to blame herself for, or hide from him.

The tears started then.

He didn’t pull back, or blame himself or even ask any questions. He simply walked to her, wrapped her in his arms and held her.

The touching, licking, sucking and, OH GOD, the fucking would come later, but in this moment, he held her and it was perfect.

 

[sweetctgirl]

The expression on his face was magic.

The deepest sort of magic that has existed since man and woman were created for each other. The kind of magic the battle of Troy was waged for, that gives poets and song writers purpose. It was the kind of magic she found in a small room with sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and a rumpled pile of sheet pooled on the floor at the foot of her bed. It was a silent magic that resulted in the same music playing in two souls.

The wall in her mind and her heart collapsed; not with an explosion, or brick by mortared brick as she thought it might happen one day if she ever met the “right” man.

It simply evaporated without regret or recrimination. Not even the tattered remnants of a foundation laid over so many years of one relationship mistake after another remained for her to blame herself for, or hide from him.

The tears started then.

He didn’t pull back, or blame himself or even ask any questions. He simply walked to her, wrapped her in his arms and held her.

The touching, licking, sucking and, OH GOD, the fucking would come later, but in this moment, he held her and it was perfect.

That moment right there gave me goosebumps. Such depth of emotion in this installment Ryan. Beautiful!! Incredible!! As always, the stories you weave are so easy to get lost in.

 

[Lorilei]

The expression on his face was magic.

The deepest sort of magic that has existed since man and woman were created for each other. The kind of magic the battle of Troy was waged for, that gives poets and song writers purpose. It was the kind of magic she found in a small room with sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and a rumpled pile of sheet pooled on the floor at the foot of her bed. It was a silent magic that resulted in the same music playing in two souls.

The wall in her mind and her heart collapsed; not with an explosion, or brick by mortared brick as she thought it might happen one day if she ever met the “right” man.

It simply evaporated without regret or recrimination. Not even the tattered remnants of a foundation laid over so many years of one relationship mistake after another remained for her to blame herself for, or hide from him.

The tears started then.

He didn’t pull back, or blame himself or even ask any questions. He simply walked to her, wrapped her in his arms and held her.

The touching, licking, sucking and, OH GOD, the fucking would come later, but in this moment, he held her and it was perfect.

Love this. Very romantic, babydoll, and just in time for Valentine's Day!

 

[RyanBlack]

Ryan, I must say I totally agree with everything Rox said... I just couldn't wait to see what you came up with next. I'm think I'm still trying to catch my breath... =P You're an incredible writer.

Why thank you Miss D---I am very pleased and complimented that you like it

That moment right there gave me goosebumps. Such depth of emotion in this installment Ryan. Beautiful!! Incredible!! As always, the stories you weave are so easy to get lost in.

Not sure where this one is going yet but going to keep posting 10 mins worth of writing a day for as long as it shows up in my head and you like it

Love this. Very romantic, babydoll, and just in time for Valentine's Day!

I will admit that tears are not the normal bodily fluids that I write about. .. but it did seem to be what happened next. I dont think I am really all that much in control of the characters writing this way. . .

 

[misfortunex]

The expression on his face was magic.

The deepest sort of magic that has existed since man and woman were created for each other. The kind of magic the battle of Troy was waged for, that gives poets and song writers purpose. It was the kind of magic she found in a small room with sunlight illuminating dust motes dancing in the air and a rumpled pile of sheet pooled on the floor at the foot of her bed. It was a silent magic that resulted in the same music playing in two souls.

The wall in her mind and her heart collapsed; not with an explosion, or brick by mortared brick as she thought it might happen one day if she ever met the “right” man.

It simply evaporated without regret or recrimination. Not even the tattered remnants of a foundation laid over so many years of one relationship mistake after another remained for her to blame herself for, or hide from him.

The tears started then.

He didn’t pull back, or blame himself or even ask any questions. He simply walked to her, wrapped her in his arms and held her.

The touching, licking, sucking and, OH GOD, the fucking would come later, but in this moment, he held her and it was perfect.

Perfect..........breathtakingly perfect

 

[lakesailer_mi]

hmmmmmmm

I submit it here---maybe one day Ill submit it to the Lit site, but just dont think my stuff is good enough yet.

I am glad you liked the list It was really fun to write--

Im trying to think of another list for her to put in his pocket. . . . pondering what might be good.


the Getting Caught story is just in its infancy--the only thing I have in my head now is the part above and a scene where the drywall next to the door gets cracked. . . . .

Jesus Fucking Christ..."not good enough" Are you fucking kidding me!?!?!?

I submit shit that isn't half this good!
And my stuff's not bad! Compared to some of the crap posted on the Lit site...this is Shakespear! Dude...Post it, submit it, whatever you want (and frankly, I'm not that big on the submit to Lit...maybe I'll post more here...this is more my audience anyway), but for God's sake...do NOT disparage your work or I'm gonna have to kick your ass!!!

Thanks rant over...

 

[Lorilei]

Jesus Fucking Christ..."not good enough" Are fucking kidding me!?!?!?

I submit shit that isn't half this good!
And my stuff's not bad! Compared to some of the crap posted on the Lit site...this is Shakespear! Dude...Post it, submit it, whatever you want (and frankly, I'm not that big on the submit to Lit...maybe I'll post more here...this is more my audience anyway), but for God's sake...do NOT disparage your work or I'm gonna have to kick your ass!!!

Thanks rant over...

Thank you! I've been telling him that for years!

 

[lakesailer_mi]

Thank you! I've been telling him that for years!

Anytime...
Next time...I'm not going to be so nice

To be fair, I can see why he doesn't want to post it to the General Lit site.

This is a good place (and he's been on me to post here...and becoming convinced). The Lit site is too general. The audience he writes for (and largly me too) is really PG type people. They like his stuff (and for good reason!) and they are here. It's about reaching your audience. I write professionally too. I taylor different things for different audiences and it's important to get the right stuff to the right audience.

 

[RyanBlack]

Perfect..........breathtakingly perfect

It means a great deal to me that you like it.

Anytime...
Next time...I'm not going to be so nice

To be fair, I can see why he doesn't want to post it to the General Lit site.

This is a good place (and he's been on me to post here...and becoming convinced). The Lit site is too general. The audience he writes for (and largly me too) is really PG type people. They like his stuff (and for good reason!) and they are here. It's about reaching your audience. I write professionally too. I taylor different things for different audiences and it's important to get the right stuff to the right audience.

Thank you! I've been telling him that for years!

Lolipop and Lake--you are both very flattering and good for my ego--I suppose my thought is that there are enough mediocre stories on Lit regular--and I dont want what I write to fade in against that backdrop--I keep working to make them better and your comments and insights are very helpful so that I can improve at it and continue to post them--I may post the next two paired stories here and there as soon as I get them back from my editor for spelling and grammar corrections etc. . .

 

[Lorilei]

It means a great deal to me that you like it.





Lolipop and Lake--you are both very flattering and good for my ego--I suppose my thought is that there are enough mediocre stories on Lit regular--and I dont want what I write to fade in against that backdrop--I keep working to make them better and your comments and insights are very helpful so that I can improve at it and continue to post them--I may post the next two paired stories here and there as soon as I get them back from my editor for spelling and grammar corrections etc. . .

I giggle like a fool every time you call me that.