Literotica's version of the Bulwer-Lytton award (worst opening line contest)

[Charmolypi]

I just gave myself a laugh trying to construct an intentionally unsexy sentence. It made me think of the Bulwer-Lytton contest/ where a yearly award (of a pittance) is given to the person that inflicts worst, most groan-inducing opening sentence. Some of those openers are pretty funny. Can you out do their submissions and think of a beginning sentence for erotic lit that's so bad it's good?

My try: Dudley sat hunched on the edge of his futon and anti-climatically picked at the dryer fuzz left on his member from the climax with his most regular lover, Hanes Over-The-Calf Tube Sock.

 

[hylas_]

Oh, I'll always remember that one story where the author started by introducing his two female protagonists by listing name, age, weight, hair colour, and bra-size. It made me laugh really hard... and then click the back-button.

 

[Hypoxia]

"My vein-engorged thirteen-inch-long cock glowing and pushily probing ahead of me, I slowly advanced on the willing wet pussy spread before me like an elaborate Eurasian lunch, little knowing of the tentacles soon to entangle me..."

 

[Charmolypi]

Oh, I'll always remember that one story where the author started by introducing his two female protagonists by listing name, age, weight, hair colour, and bra-size. It made me laugh really hard... and then click the back-button.

Oh my, yes. I feel like that could describe so many stories where the physical measurements are awkwardly inserted into the scene. Or maybe your post is sarcasm and I'm just slow on the pick up.

 

[Charmolypi]

"My vein-engorged thirteen-inch-long cock glowing and pushily probing ahead of me...

LOL. It sounds disembodied, like the cock is leading him around the room on a leash.

 

[Bramblethorn]

LOL. It sounds disembodied, like the cock is leading him around the room on a leash.

I got inspiration for one of my horror stories here after reading one too many like that. Our Hero realises that something's gone wrong when her lips are working on him in one spot and her tongue somewhere entirely different...

 

[hylas_]

Oh my, yes. I feel like that could describe so many stories where the physical measurements are awkwardly inserted into the scene. Or maybe your post is sarcasm and I'm just slow on the pick up.

I'm not being sarcastic. And there was no "awkwardly inserting" in the story I'm thinking of. He just straight up started with a list of stats.

 

[AlinaX]

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a man in want of a good opening line must be in possession of a tape measure.

 

[Hypoxia]

I'll steal a line:

"Oh god," she thought, as the monstrously bloated big black cocks ravaged her wide-open cunt and asshole, "I'm turning into my mother."​

I was turned onto Bulwer-Lytton (the contest) a couple decades back, gifted with a set of IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT paperbacks. My favorite best/worst first line:

"There's more than one way to skin a cat," she mused,
As she pinned its little paws to the dissection table.​

C'mon, let's see some depraved contributions here. Remember, it's for the worst first line of the worst possible erotica. Something to really set a disastrous mood. Go for it!

 

[AlinaX]

He was a dark and stormy knight, and held in his hand what might at first sight be mistaken for a lance, dripping with the blood of his most recent conquest.

 

[oggbashan]

Some of my first lines:

From Whorehouse Chapel.

It started several years ago when Tom, one of our older widowers, found that Maria, the professional lady he visited two or three times a month, was on holiday.

From Where Did I Put The Sex?

I went on a ski-ing holiday in Austria and never put on a pair of skis, a snowboard, a sledge or used any snow sports equipment.

A first paragraph from... Wait for it!

Magdalena Shaw opened the door of her walk-in wardrobe and walked in. This is her special wardrobe with her sexual clothing, not the other walk-in wardrobe with her normal clothing, nor the fitted wardrobe on the wall for her husband's clothing. It is not a garderobe because it doesn't have a toilet and Magdalena lives in a modern architect designed house not a medieval castle and even if she did live in a medieval castle she would not be seen dead using a garderobe because they are cold, draughty and dangerous to the user who could fall in and end in a pile of shit at the end of a long drop so she prefers to have a fitted bathroom ensuite to her bedroom but the other end of the room from the wardrobes. The two walk-in wardrobes had been designed and built for her as a special feature of the house. The special wardrobe is twice the size of the normal wardrobe because her special clothing was used twice as often so she had twice as many special clothes. In between the two walk-in wardrobes is a concealed room that contains the video equipment for the many cameras in the bedroom. Accessed from the special wardrobe behind the bridal wear, it had a one way mirror looking into the bedroom for voyeurs and broadband for live camera action which was a useful source of income for the Shaws.

From The Worst Chain Story Ever Ch 01. - Of course!

 

[PuckIt]

I thought I saw a dolphin swimming high in the sky, peeking around the clouds, as I shot what felt like a gallon of cum (although it was more likely a tablespoon) down the gullet of the woman who's name I did not know as she knelt before me and my helmet clanked against my pauldrons as I tried to turn my head for a better look.

 

[Charmolypi]

I'll steal a line:

"Oh god," she thought, as the monstrously bloated big black cocks ravaged her wide-open cunt and asshole, "I'm turning into my mother."​

Ok you got me. I audibly guffawed that when I got to the last part. Lol.

Oh man, I think Literotica should have a category for purposefully bad erotic lit. Tag it with "So bad its good".

 

[Charmolypi]

He was a dark and stormy knight, and held in his hand what might at first sight be mistaken for a lance, dripping with the blood of his most recent conquest.

Whoa that went to a dark place. But you inspired me.

He was a tall, dark and stormy knight riding utop me while I was suit of armor clad about his shaft - rusty, creaking and metallic to the taste.

 

[Charmolypi]

Some of my first lines:

From Whorehouse Chapel.

It started several years ago when Tom, one of our older widowers, found that Maria, the professional lady he visited two or three times a month, was on holiday.

From Where Did I Put The Sex?

I went on a ski-ing holiday in Austria and never put on a pair of skis, a snowboard, a sledge or used any snow sports equipment.

A first paragraph from... Wait for it!

Magdalena Shaw opened the door of her walk-in wardrobe and walked in. This is her special wardrobe with her sexual clothing, not the other walk-in wardrobe with her normal clothing, nor the fitted wardrobe on the wall for her husband's clothing. It is not a garderobe because it doesn't have a toilet and Magdalena lives in a modern architect designed house not a medieval castle and even if she did live in a medieval castle she would not be seen dead using a garderobe because they are cold, draughty and dangerous to the user who could fall in and end in a pile of shit at the end of a long drop so she prefers to have a fitted bathroom ensuite to her bedroom but the other end of the room from the wardrobes. The two walk-in wardrobes had been designed and built for her as a special feature of the house. The special wardrobe is twice the size of the normal wardrobe because her special clothing was used twice as often so she had twice as many special clothes. In between the two walk-in wardrobes is a concealed room that contains the video equipment for the many cameras in the bedroom. Accessed from the special wardrobe behind the bridal wear, it had a one way mirror looking into the bedroom for voyeurs and broadband for live camera action which was a useful source of income for the Shaws.

From The Worst Chain Story Ever Ch 01. - Of course!

Oh gosh, I can see why you titled it "Where did I put the sexy?". I'm already lost trying to picture this wardrobe maze. Thank you posting. I love your vulnerability.

 

[oggbashan]

I omitted my real contender, the story with ONLY one sentence so it's probably the worst opening (and only line):

https://www.literotica.com/s/breathless-stargazing

 

[NotWise]

I don't try to make the first sentence into an erotic grabber. Here is the first sentence from my in-progress story:

"Manny paced beside the airport terminal and scanned the horizon to the north."

Aroused? I thought not.

The rest of the first paragraph is:

"Claudia lost her cell phone signal after she got off the ground, and he hadn’t heard from her since. He got his hopes up every time a dot appeared above the horizon; sometimes it was a hawk or a turkey vulture, sometimes it was a small plane, but it was never the small plane that carried his sister south."

Erotic? No. Nor do I intend it to be.

Edit:

That story actually contains two other stories. The first line of the first contained story is:

"Ximena just wanted to get away from the lightning and out of the rain."

The first line of the second story is:

"Rodrigo was born in 1520."

You can take your pick for least erotic.

 

[Hypoxia]

Manny, idly fondling his testicles through a trouser pocket, paced beside the airport terminal and scanned the horizon to the north just as Claudia lost her cell phone signal after she climbed off the Symbian on the ground, and he hadn’t heard from her since but still he got his hopes up every time a dot appeared above the horizon; sometimes it was a hawk or a turkey vulture, sometimes it was a small plane, but it was never the small plane that carried his sister south into sexual slavery while Ximena just wanted to get away from the lightning and out of the rain, thinking of the aftermath of the orgy when Rodrigo was born in 1520.

Fixed.

 

[CyranoJ]

Trayvon's massive black cock was ready for action, throbbing and pulsing in its thirst for some tight white-girl cunt; but little did he realise there was a night watchman on hand ready to put him in traction, nor that said watchman's equally swarthy manly member stood ready to do the deed, as barely-legal Britney Snow would soon discover as her 38DD;s heaved in anticipation of whatever species of alpha male might break through the window by which she stood waiting, longingly, keen to see the advent of a real man who might fuck her silly the way her father -- who was aborad and sellling milkshake mixers just like Michael Keaton in that movie -- usually did (not that he was some kind of pervert or something, for, despite appearances, she was his step-daughter and he was inclined to clarify consent very carefully, notwithstanding his unscrupulous attitude toward milkshake ingredients, which after all were the core of his appeal); which is to say, Trayvon was as ready as ready could get, God help Britneyi's virtue, as she was two thirds of the way through an English course on teaching a second language and could not afford the least distraction.

 

[NotWise]

Fixed.

Hey! Thanks!

 

[Charmolypi]

Trayvon's massive black cock was ready for action, throbbing and pulsing in its thirst for some tight white-girl cunt; but little did he realise there was a night watchman on hand ready to put him in traction, nor that said watchman's equally swarthy manly member stood ready to do the deed, as barely-legal Britney Snow would soon discover as her 38DD;s heaved in anticipation of whatever species of alpha male might break through the window by which she stood waiting, longingly, keen to see the advent of a real man who might fuck her silly the way her father -- who was aborad and sellling milkshake mixers just like Michael Keaton in that movie -- usually did (not that he was some kind of pervert or something, for, despite appearances, she was his step-daughter and he was inclined to clarify consent very carefully, notwithstanding his unscrupulous attitude toward milkshake ingredients, which after all were the core of his appeal); which is to say, Trayvon was as ready as ready could get, God help Britneyi's virtue, as she was two thirds of the way through an English course on teaching a second language and could not afford the least distraction.

Ohhh baby, how did you know what a man with an unscrupulous attitude toward milkshake ingredients does for me?! Lol

 

[NoJo]

On the floor of the kitchen Janine gripped Jack's throbbing, pulsing dick tightly in her fist. She licked it all over. "Do you like that, Jack?" she asked.

But Jack didn't reply; He was still upstairs in the bathroom, desperately trying to stop the flow of blood from his groin.

 

[Hypoxia]

Hey! Thanks!

It was easy.

On the floor of the kitchen Janine gripped Jack's throbbing, pulsing dick tightly in her fist. She licked it all over. "Do you like that, Jack?" she asked.

But Jack didn't reply; He was still upstairs in the bathroom, desperately trying to stop the flow of blood from his groin.

That's like a long version of a title and first line I developed:

Roses Are Red, Too - "What a lovely cock," she whispered, just before biting it off.​

Yours is fuller. I aimed to be concise. That's one of my fetishes, alas.

 

[NoJo]

It was easy.

That's like a long version of a title and first line I developed:

Roses Are Red, Too - "What a lovely cock," she whispered, just before biting it off.​

Yours is fuller. I aimed to be concise. That's one of my fetishes, alas.

Ah but your cock was still attached - different image entirely

 

[HandsInTheDark]

C'mon, let's see some depraved contributions here. Remember, it's for the worst first line of the worst possible erotica. Something to really set a disastrous mood. Go for it!

He grabbed the first wench he could find with a lithe, upturned nose, and thrust his pulsing thirteen inches of man-junk into her widespread quivering love canal.

Sorry. I know borrowing from Eye of Argon is unfair, but if when you want the worst you need to refer back to the classics.