A Plea For Help From a Young'n
- Thread starter _Erik_
- Start date
LadyJeanne
deluded
- Joined
- Jun 25, 2004
- Posts
- 5,885
_Erik_ said:
Welcome to the AH!
What kind of help are you looking for? Stuck on a plot line? The right way to say something? Should you include measurements to describe your characters?
English Lady
Erotic English Rose
- Joined
- Sep 28, 2002
- Posts
- 48,011
Hiya Erik - my advice is to write it all out, then ask one of us to have a look over it and help you re-write it. get it all out and then we'll give you the benefit of our wisdom 
(I'll help, though i'm not the worlds best grammar queen )
(I'll help, though i'm not the worlds best grammar queen
)Well, I think my biggest problem is just arranging the words so that they don't sound extremely sophomoric.
Here's what I have so far. Be as brutal as possible. It's my first time
.
P.S. This is how I intend to submit it Literotica (with the exception of the green font), so the italicized part is the disclaimer. And the line *'s and -'s is to seperate the story from the introduction and description.
And HERE's a picture of the lady in the story.
In case you perverts didn’t know, this story is fictional. I don’t know if anybody in this story (outside of my friends and me) acts this way in real life.
By the way, if you’re not eighteen, your cracka-ass can’t read this story. Though I highly doubt my telling you not to read this will dissuade you. But still, don’t read this.
Let’s just get this out of the way; I’m 6’ 4”, white, brunette hair in a buzz, muscular.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
I saw her there in the middle of the dance floor, jumping around with what I could only assume were her friends. It was fantastic. Three weeks in L.A., and I already saw the woman I was in love with.
Morgan Webb.
She co-hosted a television show called “X-Play” on G4TV. I had seen her on there a few years ago and instantly became enraptured.
The heavy dance beat stopped and everybody cheered for DJ Funk-Diddy Master Iced-Out E.
“Hey man, what are you lookin’ at?” My boy Justin came up and asked me.
I pointed down. “You see that chick with the black hair tied-up in a bun thing? Wearing the black and pink tank top and that awesome mini-skirt?”
He scanned the crowd and saw my finger pointing towards the girl making her way to the bar. “Her? She’s hot, from behind.”
I smiled, “I’ma go talk to her.”
He looked at me incredulously. “I think she’s out of your league, brah.”
I smacked him on the cheek and said, “Ay! Don’t cock-block me.”
I walked across the top dance floor and down the steps, weaving in and out of the crowd. I finally got to the bar.
“What can I get for ya?” The Australian bartender asked me.
“Just two waters, please.” I said, reaching into my wallet.
“Please? You must be new to L.A.”
I smiled, gave him the money, and said, “A’ight, Kangaroo Jack, give me the liquid.”
He smiled back at me “Now you’re getting’ it.” He took the cash and gave me the two bottles of water.
“Oi, before I go, what can you tell me about that hottie in the middle of the bar?”
“Oh you mean Morgan? She comes in here almost every night and dances her ass off. She gets hit on a lot. Why, you sweet on her?”
“You aren’t?”
“Good point.”
I started making my way towards her when I noticed she was talking to someone. I couldn’t hear over the music very well, so I just kinda slid up behind her and chilled there, eavesdropping on her conversation.
“… looked sexy out there. Thought you’d wanna dance?”
“Oh, that’s a really kind offer, but I’m waiting for someone. Sorry.” She said, brushing him off.
Her statement about waiting for someone didn’t faze me one bit. After the dude walked off, I walked around her and sat in the next stool. “Well crud,” I said, looking directly at her.
“What?” She asked, sounding kind of concerned.
“Well, I had every intention on coming over here, handing you this water,” I handed her the water “asking you what your name was, and ultimately striking up a conversation with you.” Tip number one: If used properly, feigned ignorance can pay off.
She took the water and smiled. “You had every intention? Did my dazzling beauty make you change your mind?”
“I overheard you tell that ock you were waiting for someone.”
She smiled and said, “You know, it’s funny. You look just like the guy I was waiting for.”
Bingo. Tip number two: If the girl says something similar to the line above, you have officially entered flirting territory. Don’t fuck it up.
I smiled back at her. “That is a remarkable coincidence.”
She held out her hand and said “I’m Morgan.”
I took it and said, “Erik.” Oh God, her hand was so soft.
“Would you like to dance?” She asked, tilting her head towards the dance floor.
I smiled, followed her out to the middle and said, “With you?”
She smiled back and said, “No, on the pole.”
Right before DJ Funk-Diddy Master Iced-Out E started up another rousing rave-style song, I just smirked and whispered into her ear, “I don’t strip until the second date.”
I could hear her laughing over the crazy beat. She thought I was funny. Good, I had laid down the proper foundation for getting her number.
She started to grind against me in time with the beat. I was in a daze. The only thing I could think was, “Dance with her.” Which brings me to tip number three: If a girl wants to dance with you, then dance with her dumb ass.
Before I knew it, the song had ended. “Wow, you dance better than I thought you would.” She said, grabbing my hand and leading me off of the dance floor up to the second floor which doubled as sort of a lounge area.
“Uh… thanks?” I said, slightly hurt.
She laughed and said, “I’m kidding! God, nobody ever gets my sense of humor.”
We flopped down on a couch and started to chat. “I think the reason no one gets your sense of humor is because they don’t expect a woman as beautiful as yourself to be funny.” Tip number four: Sneak in compliments whenever you can.
“Aw, you think I’m beautiful? That’s so sweet.” The waiter, Mark, came up to us.
“What can I get you two?”
She ordered first. “I’ll have a Cosmopolitan, please.”
He wrote down her order. “And you sir?”
“Uh, yeah, just a Pepsi.”
“We don’t sell Pepsi here, sir.”
“Okay, then a Coke.”
Morgan bent over and whispered into my ear, “They only serve alcohol and water here.”
“Oh! Uh, just a water, then.”
“Water?” The waiter asked, slightly shocked.
“Just bring him a Cosmopolitan too.” Morgan said hastily. After the walked off, she looked at me and asked, “So why would you want a water?”
“I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Oh really? Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, it’s so beautiful women like you can’t take advantage of me while I’m in a drunken stupor.” She laughed at this and I continued. “But no, seriously, it’s ‘cause I don’t really like the taste of most alcohols.”
Before she could say anything, Justin sat right beside me and said, “So this is the chick you masturbate about all the time?” Practically needless to say, I was embarrassed. My face was as red as a ripe tomato. He continued his barrage on my chances with Morgan. “I don’t blame you, she’s hot. If y’all come back to the house later, make sure to close your door. I don’t wanna catch you in the act again.” With that, he got up and walked down the steps.
“Well, that was embarrassing.” Morgan commented while I tried to kill Justin with my mind. “Is he your friend?”
“Him? No, never met him before” I said, trying to play off what he said.
She smiled. “Don’t worry; I know that whatever he said is probably a lie.”
“Oh thank God!” I let out the breath I had unconsciously been holding. “I was afraid any chance I had with you would have been gone.”
“Relax; you’re too cute for me to let you get away.” She put her hand on my knee as Mark the waiter brought us our drinks.
I didn’t really like the taste of the Cosmo, and by the time I was done with my first, Morgan was on her third. One of the things I didn’t know about her was that she couldn’t hold her liquor. “You know what I like about you?” She asked, kind of loud.
“No, what’s that?”
“You’re one of the few guys that hasn’t tried to look down my shirt or up my skirt since I came here.” She bent over and whispered in me ear “They try to look down my shirt ‘cause I gots big boobs.” I couldn’t help but laugh at this. She was adorable when she was slightly drunk. I could tell she was kinda drunk because her speech was slightly slurred. I saw the waiter coming towards us with another Cosmopolitan on a tray. “Ooh! Mine!” She yelled, grabbing the Cosmo off of the tray.
I grabbed the waiter by his sleeve. “Hey man, will you bring me the bill? I think she’s had a few too many.” He nodded and walked off.
“Morgan do you remember where you live?” I asked, hoping she did.
She giggled and said, “Yup! In Lost Angelicas.”
“Lost Angelicas. Really though?” I muttered, racking my brain for any way to find out her address.
The waiter came back and handed me the check. I paid and he walked off. “HEY! Where’s my drink?” Morgan yelled after him.
“He told me that they ran out. And I think you’ve had too many.” I said, trying to restrain her from running after Mark the waiter.
She stopped struggling and said, “Oh yeah? Well you know what I think? I think you’re drunk!” She hiccupped and sat back down, rather hard. “Oh, I’m sorry Erik. I didn’t mean it.” She bent forward and hugged me.
“It’s… okay.” I could barely string together a sentence. The most beautiful woman in the world (in my mind) was hugging me. ME!
I pried her off of me and said, “Morgan look at me. I need to see your I.D.”
She searched all of her pockets and finally pulled it out of the left butt cheek one. She handed it to me and sat back, drumming her thumbs on her sexy tummy.
I pulled out my cell phone and called a taxi service.
This is all I have so far. I don't want it to be a "We flirted, we fucked, I never saw her again" kind of story. I'm trying to make it a romance tale.
I know that some of the things I'll have in the story about things like alcohol will be wrong (I'm under-age), but hopefully that's where y'all come in.
Here's what I have so far. Be as brutal as possible. It's my first time
.P.S. This is how I intend to submit it Literotica (with the exception of the green font), so the italicized part is the disclaimer. And the line *'s and -'s is to seperate the story from the introduction and description.
And HERE's a picture of the lady in the story.
In case you perverts didn’t know, this story is fictional. I don’t know if anybody in this story (outside of my friends and me) acts this way in real life.
By the way, if you’re not eighteen, your cracka-ass can’t read this story. Though I highly doubt my telling you not to read this will dissuade you. But still, don’t read this.
Let’s just get this out of the way; I’m 6’ 4”, white, brunette hair in a buzz, muscular.
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
I saw her there in the middle of the dance floor, jumping around with what I could only assume were her friends. It was fantastic. Three weeks in L.A., and I already saw the woman I was in love with.
Morgan Webb.
She co-hosted a television show called “X-Play” on G4TV. I had seen her on there a few years ago and instantly became enraptured.
The heavy dance beat stopped and everybody cheered for DJ Funk-Diddy Master Iced-Out E.
“Hey man, what are you lookin’ at?” My boy Justin came up and asked me.
I pointed down. “You see that chick with the black hair tied-up in a bun thing? Wearing the black and pink tank top and that awesome mini-skirt?”
He scanned the crowd and saw my finger pointing towards the girl making her way to the bar. “Her? She’s hot, from behind.”
I smiled, “I’ma go talk to her.”
He looked at me incredulously. “I think she’s out of your league, brah.”
I smacked him on the cheek and said, “Ay! Don’t cock-block me.”
I walked across the top dance floor and down the steps, weaving in and out of the crowd. I finally got to the bar.
“What can I get for ya?” The Australian bartender asked me.
“Just two waters, please.” I said, reaching into my wallet.
“Please? You must be new to L.A.”
I smiled, gave him the money, and said, “A’ight, Kangaroo Jack, give me the liquid.”
He smiled back at me “Now you’re getting’ it.” He took the cash and gave me the two bottles of water.
“Oi, before I go, what can you tell me about that hottie in the middle of the bar?”
“Oh you mean Morgan? She comes in here almost every night and dances her ass off. She gets hit on a lot. Why, you sweet on her?”
“You aren’t?”
“Good point.”
I started making my way towards her when I noticed she was talking to someone. I couldn’t hear over the music very well, so I just kinda slid up behind her and chilled there, eavesdropping on her conversation.
“… looked sexy out there. Thought you’d wanna dance?”
“Oh, that’s a really kind offer, but I’m waiting for someone. Sorry.” She said, brushing him off.
Her statement about waiting for someone didn’t faze me one bit. After the dude walked off, I walked around her and sat in the next stool. “Well crud,” I said, looking directly at her.
“What?” She asked, sounding kind of concerned.
“Well, I had every intention on coming over here, handing you this water,” I handed her the water “asking you what your name was, and ultimately striking up a conversation with you.” Tip number one: If used properly, feigned ignorance can pay off.
She took the water and smiled. “You had every intention? Did my dazzling beauty make you change your mind?”
“I overheard you tell that ock you were waiting for someone.”
She smiled and said, “You know, it’s funny. You look just like the guy I was waiting for.”
Bingo. Tip number two: If the girl says something similar to the line above, you have officially entered flirting territory. Don’t fuck it up.
I smiled back at her. “That is a remarkable coincidence.”
She held out her hand and said “I’m Morgan.”
I took it and said, “Erik.” Oh God, her hand was so soft.
“Would you like to dance?” She asked, tilting her head towards the dance floor.
I smiled, followed her out to the middle and said, “With you?”
She smiled back and said, “No, on the pole.”
Right before DJ Funk-Diddy Master Iced-Out E started up another rousing rave-style song, I just smirked and whispered into her ear, “I don’t strip until the second date.”
I could hear her laughing over the crazy beat. She thought I was funny. Good, I had laid down the proper foundation for getting her number.
She started to grind against me in time with the beat. I was in a daze. The only thing I could think was, “Dance with her.” Which brings me to tip number three: If a girl wants to dance with you, then dance with her dumb ass.
Before I knew it, the song had ended. “Wow, you dance better than I thought you would.” She said, grabbing my hand and leading me off of the dance floor up to the second floor which doubled as sort of a lounge area.
“Uh… thanks?” I said, slightly hurt.
She laughed and said, “I’m kidding! God, nobody ever gets my sense of humor.”
We flopped down on a couch and started to chat. “I think the reason no one gets your sense of humor is because they don’t expect a woman as beautiful as yourself to be funny.” Tip number four: Sneak in compliments whenever you can.
“Aw, you think I’m beautiful? That’s so sweet.” The waiter, Mark, came up to us.
“What can I get you two?”
She ordered first. “I’ll have a Cosmopolitan, please.”
He wrote down her order. “And you sir?”
“Uh, yeah, just a Pepsi.”
“We don’t sell Pepsi here, sir.”
“Okay, then a Coke.”
Morgan bent over and whispered into my ear, “They only serve alcohol and water here.”
“Oh! Uh, just a water, then.”
“Water?” The waiter asked, slightly shocked.
“Just bring him a Cosmopolitan too.” Morgan said hastily. After the walked off, she looked at me and asked, “So why would you want a water?”
“I’m not much of a drinker.”
“Oh really? Why not?”
“Well, for one thing, it’s so beautiful women like you can’t take advantage of me while I’m in a drunken stupor.” She laughed at this and I continued. “But no, seriously, it’s ‘cause I don’t really like the taste of most alcohols.”
Before she could say anything, Justin sat right beside me and said, “So this is the chick you masturbate about all the time?” Practically needless to say, I was embarrassed. My face was as red as a ripe tomato. He continued his barrage on my chances with Morgan. “I don’t blame you, she’s hot. If y’all come back to the house later, make sure to close your door. I don’t wanna catch you in the act again.” With that, he got up and walked down the steps.
“Well, that was embarrassing.” Morgan commented while I tried to kill Justin with my mind. “Is he your friend?”
“Him? No, never met him before” I said, trying to play off what he said.
She smiled. “Don’t worry; I know that whatever he said is probably a lie.”
“Oh thank God!” I let out the breath I had unconsciously been holding. “I was afraid any chance I had with you would have been gone.”
“Relax; you’re too cute for me to let you get away.” She put her hand on my knee as Mark the waiter brought us our drinks.
I didn’t really like the taste of the Cosmo, and by the time I was done with my first, Morgan was on her third. One of the things I didn’t know about her was that she couldn’t hold her liquor. “You know what I like about you?” She asked, kind of loud.
“No, what’s that?”
“You’re one of the few guys that hasn’t tried to look down my shirt or up my skirt since I came here.” She bent over and whispered in me ear “They try to look down my shirt ‘cause I gots big boobs.” I couldn’t help but laugh at this. She was adorable when she was slightly drunk. I could tell she was kinda drunk because her speech was slightly slurred. I saw the waiter coming towards us with another Cosmopolitan on a tray. “Ooh! Mine!” She yelled, grabbing the Cosmo off of the tray.
I grabbed the waiter by his sleeve. “Hey man, will you bring me the bill? I think she’s had a few too many.” He nodded and walked off.
“Morgan do you remember where you live?” I asked, hoping she did.
She giggled and said, “Yup! In Lost Angelicas.”
“Lost Angelicas. Really though?” I muttered, racking my brain for any way to find out her address.
The waiter came back and handed me the check. I paid and he walked off. “HEY! Where’s my drink?” Morgan yelled after him.
“He told me that they ran out. And I think you’ve had too many.” I said, trying to restrain her from running after Mark the waiter.
She stopped struggling and said, “Oh yeah? Well you know what I think? I think you’re drunk!” She hiccupped and sat back down, rather hard. “Oh, I’m sorry Erik. I didn’t mean it.” She bent forward and hugged me.
“It’s… okay.” I could barely string together a sentence. The most beautiful woman in the world (in my mind) was hugging me. ME!
I pried her off of me and said, “Morgan look at me. I need to see your I.D.”
She searched all of her pockets and finally pulled it out of the left butt cheek one. She handed it to me and sat back, drumming her thumbs on her sexy tummy.
I pulled out my cell phone and called a taxi service.
This is all I have so far. I don't want it to be a "We flirted, we fucked, I never saw her again" kind of story. I'm trying to make it a romance tale.
I know that some of the things I'll have in the story about things like alcohol will be wrong (I'm under-age), but hopefully that's where y'all come in.
Last edited:
dr_mabeuse
seduce the mind
- Joined
- Oct 10, 2002
- Posts
- 11,528
Your dialogue is great. You should feel blessed, because that's one of that hardest things to do. Personally, I'd lose some of the slang, because it sounds like your narrator's trying a little too hard to be hip, and that makes him suspect.
Next, unless this is going to be an illustrated story, lose the picture. Yes, she's gorgeous, and we can see why you'd like to bed her, but the picture's a crutch. You're going to have to do this with words alone.
Now-- If you want it to be romance, you're going to need some patience, and you'll need some problem they have to overcome. Romance is the triumph of love over adversity. You need something that keeps them apart as their passions simmer and bubble up behind this barrier and finally spill over, washing the problem away.
All I can give you in an idea, the way I might do it. Since this is a club story and their relationship essentially a bar pick-up and very superficial, I think you could have fun with playing his real love for her against her expectation of a quick, loveless fuck. She's a hottie. She gets hit on all the time, and probably knows all about sex, but she probably doesn't know anything about love, and doesn't know what he's doing to her. His respect, his desire to be with her, his interest in her as a person, is all going to bewilder her and eventually melt her heart and turn her into a woman instead of just some fuck-bunny. Love conquers superficiality.
Anyhow, that's how I'd do it.
But iuf you're quick, you could always make her a ghost and submit it in time for the Halloween contest.
--Zoot
Next, unless this is going to be an illustrated story, lose the picture. Yes, she's gorgeous, and we can see why you'd like to bed her, but the picture's a crutch. You're going to have to do this with words alone.
Now-- If you want it to be romance, you're going to need some patience, and you'll need some problem they have to overcome. Romance is the triumph of love over adversity. You need something that keeps them apart as their passions simmer and bubble up behind this barrier and finally spill over, washing the problem away.
All I can give you in an idea, the way I might do it. Since this is a club story and their relationship essentially a bar pick-up and very superficial, I think you could have fun with playing his real love for her against her expectation of a quick, loveless fuck. She's a hottie. She gets hit on all the time, and probably knows all about sex, but she probably doesn't know anything about love, and doesn't know what he's doing to her. His respect, his desire to be with her, his interest in her as a person, is all going to bewilder her and eventually melt her heart and turn her into a woman instead of just some fuck-bunny. Love conquers superficiality.
Anyhow, that's how I'd do it.
But iuf you're quick, you could always make her a ghost and submit it in time for the Halloween contest.
--Zoot
dr_mabeuse said:
The picture is just for y'all in here. I figure if somebody on Literotica is going to read this, they'll google her if they're interested.
It's not a bar story, they just happened to meet in a bar. Though you can't tell from this part right here.
Thanks for the critique.
It'll be better, I sent it to cloudy, and she said that she would do a quick edit. I wrote more on to the story, so I'll post it here.
I pulled out my cell phone and called a taxi service. After I got done talking to the person on the other end, I looked over and saw Morgan was half-asleep. I put my hand on her leg and said, “Morgan, let’s go outside.”
I helped her up, down the steps and outside. We only had to wait for a few seconds until the cab got there. We climbed in and I gave the driver her house address and we drove off.
Half-way to her house, I felt something on my shoulder. I looked down and saw that it was her sleeping head. When we arrived at our destination, I paid the man and picked her up like I was carrying her across the threshold. I laid her on the porch swing and searched the outside for a key. Unable to find one, I knocked the screen out of one of her open windows and climbed in.
I found a light switch and made my way to the front door. “BARK, BARK, BARK!” I looked over to the dining room and saw a little Scottish terrier yapping at me. I ignored it and opened the door, picked Morgan up, and made my way to the couch in the living room. When the terrier noticed its mistress was in my arms, it shut up.
I laid her on the couch and searched for a blanket. I found one in the bedroom (big surprise) and grabbed it. I put it over her and looked for a piece of paper. I scribbled a little note to her, put it under the remote, fit the screen back in its place, locked the door, and started to look around her house for an exit that wouldn’t leave one of her doors unlocked.
There was an entrance to her garage from the kitchen, so I walked out and began to examine the garage door. It locked after hitting the ground, which was a good thing.
On the walk home, I began to think about what might happen tomorrow. Would she call me? Would I ever see her in person again? Ah, it was in God’s hands now.
BBBRING! BBBRING!
My eyes snapped open. The phone. I shot out of bed and answered it.
“Hello?” I said, hoping it was Morgan.
“’Had a great time last night. You owe me forty bucks for cab fare and the bill from the club. P.S. Your dog is annoying. Five-one-four-oh-seven-three-oh.’”
I smiled. “Either this is Morgan or a psychic.”
“Guess.”
“Okay, can you tell me what’ll happen with this really fun and attractive girl I met last night? Her name’s Morgan.”
I could practically hear her smile over the phone. “Hmm, I’m getting a reading from the other side,” she began to make a bunch of weird, spooky sounds. “Ah yes! She will call you, and ask you if you would like to meet her for lunch.”
“What about you? Are you doing something later? ‘Cause you sound sexy.”
She laughed. “So will you meet me for lunch?”
“Well since you keep bugging me about it…” She laughed. “Where do you wanna meet?”
“At my job, can you pick me up?”
“Yeah, where do you work?” Refer back to tip number one.
She gave me the address and other information I would need to get onto the lot. I reluctantly hung up with her. I took a shower and sprayed about half a can of Axe Essence on me. I went back to my room and picked out what I would describe as my best outfit. A green, silk, button-down shirt, a pair of my dark tan pants, and my white-and-green FUBU’s.
I walked down the steps in mine and Justin’s two-floor flat. “Yo! Brotha man! Where you at!?” I yelled out, jumping the last three steps.
I heard him call from the living room, so I made my way there. “Wuddup, playa?” He asked, flipping through the channels.
“I gots me a date!” I said, doing a little Michael Jacksonesque spin before sitting down on the couch.
“You?” He asked disbelievingly.
“Straight up.”
“With who?” Again, disbelieving.
“You remember o’ girl from the club last night?”
“No!” He said skeptically. “You mean you got a date-“
“With the sexiest woman in the world? Yup.”
He was silent for a few seconds before asking, “Was she drunk when she asked?”
I picked up a pillow from the couch and threw it at him. He caught it and laughed. “Chillax, brah. I’m happy for you.”
I got up and grabbed two Pepsis from the mini-fridge we kept in there and tossed one to him. “Thanks. You know, I really hope this works out between me and her.” I downed my Pepsi and threw it at the little trash can beside the mini-fridge. “Well, later.” I walked out of the room and poked my head back in. “By the way,” he looked up from the television. “I owe you an ass-whoopin’ for last night.”
I took the keys for my car (a tricked-out 1998 red Monte Carlo), and walked out the door.
After navigating the complicated streets of Los Angeles for twenty minutes, I wound up at G4 studios. I rolled up to the yellow-and-black bar that prevented access to the grounds. A guy came out of the toll booth thing and asked me my business.
“Uh, I’m here to pick up a person who works here.”
“Name?”
“Mine’s Erik Mogan, and I’m here to pick up Morgan Webb. Do you know her?” I had to act ignorant of her celebrity status, just in case she was watching from a camera or something.
The guard kind of laughed and said, “You seriously expect me to believe that Ms. Webb invited you here?”
Dr. Mabeuse, thanks for the tip on the playing off her expectations for a quick loveless fuck. I was able to put it in, and I think it made the story better.
I also lost some of the slang. Both you and cloudy gave me advice about that, and even I thought I could lose some. Thank you.
I'll post what I have of the edited story whenever it's ready.
I also lost some of the slang. Both you and cloudy gave me advice about that, and even I thought I could lose some. Thank you.
I'll post what I have of the edited story whenever it's ready.
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