Butterflies

UtilityCurve

Literotica Guru
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Jan 16, 2018
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Just submitted my first story. Wrote it as a bespoke piece for a couple as a Valentine's Day gift from him to her. (As such, their real names were used in the original; they were changed before submission here. They also consented to "their" story going up in lights here.)

Two unfortunately's: I strayed too far from their outline (honestly my well of creativity was not deep enough to hit their desired points without straying into the "this absolutely COULD NOT happen this way in anything other than a fever dream" --not that fever dreams are bad I just rarely have them). He appreciated the effort but it wasn't the gift that would keep them in bed all the next day--and not to be a saint/martyr, as a widower who hasn't touched something a woman had covered since JAN 2013, my attitude was, "well, if I can't light MY girl's fire because she's no longer with me, at least I can try to get a committed, fluid-bonded couple a little, um, closer."

The subtext is I identified with him deep inside his lover, who, COMPLETELY turned on by my art, would urge him to "be a man" inside her. God, how I miss that. I have ALWAYS written erotica for my partners, including some that MIGHT (and I stress "MIGHT") cross certain lines that would get me in deep trouble with a website. Depends on sensibilities. Just as a hypothetical, is underage breast-play a no-no? Jesus, it happens. As the father of a teen girl, I have to deal with what I stumble upon. Are parenting websites committing gross indecency when they try to calm us the fuck down when we find some boy with his hands up her shirt? Sorry, I didn't mean to be reasonable there. Sometimes I forget that that some other people don't live in the real world. (BTW, it's okay he did that if she was, and she was, okay with that. Preach.)

Note to Literotica: No underage girl's innocence was ever compromised by reading "filth" I wrote. I swear it. I didn't cross that line until the summer after my freshman year and I hope that girl remembers it fondly at least.

Anyway, the other "unfortunately:" Five hours after I sent the story to them, my house burned to the ground, no shit, just like cancer, nobody jokes about something like that. If you want to see a picture of the event in full flower: https://www.gofundme.com/f/fire-on-anderson-pl. DO NOT CONTRIBUTE. I just couldn't pull the URL for the photo.

So, there you have it: Father, unsuccessful "contract" writer and homeless man.
 
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Bummer about the house fire.

Yes, underage breast play would be a no no here.
 
Bummer about the house fire.

Yes, underage breast play would be a no no here.

When you stop to think about everything that's handy in your home, wrenches, a laser printer, a bottle of Benadryl with enough caplets to make those hives subside, it's overwhelming to consider the effort (and time) you invested to make it just so. Can you, should you, try to replicate the past (can you even remember the decision trees you climbed or descended to create the situation that flames incinerated)?

I'm leaning toward not. Whether I like it or not (and I don't), my past is now memory and cannot be restored to bring me back to the ease and comfort (ESPECIALLY comfort--it's severely under-rated) I knew.
 
Umm, OK . . . whatever.

Sorry, Keith. If I don't tear the narrative of what has happened down to tiny, tiny bits, the randomness of the thing as a whole will overwhelm me. I can only understand it in pieces.
 
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