scorpiosting
Experienced
- Joined
- May 25, 2003
- Posts
- 99
I am working on a new story that I just thought of and have begun to write.
I would like to hear feedback on where I should take this story.
Any and all suggestions will be considered.
William pressed hard on the wood plane sliding it over the hard oak plank, small wooden shavings falling silently to the floor, piling beneath his feet. He whistled to himself as he worked, lost in his craft, which had been passed down through his bloodline since before his ancestors had become carpenters in the south of England in the lat 1800’s. Now here in America, a century later, not much had changed, the craft was still in the family as well as the restless spirit that consumed his soul. Hearing the tickle of the small bell that hung above the entryway to his shop, he cocked his head slightly waiting for the voice that he knew would come, inquiring if anyone was about.
“Hello is anyone around?” the voice floated towards him through the air, soft and smooth mimicking the movement of the wood plane on the plank.
William heard the footsteps as they approached from behind, delicate, nervous, unsure. Turning with the wood plane in hand, his eyes caught sight of black cascading ringlets, falling over narrow shoulders covered in a white cashmere sweater, contrasting deep blue eyes, pools of naïve wonder.
“May I help, you?” he smiled at the delicate creature before him, clutching a handbag with long nimble fingers, his eyes, wandering down the rest of her body, noticing the firm round hips, her thighs wrapped with a delicate spring dress, small rose petals decorating the linen.
“I was passing by your shop and noticed a new chair in the display window. How much are you asking for the piece?”
“What are you willing to pay it, my dear lady?” William smiled, his dark eyes sparkling, the corners of his mouth curling into the charming smile he was know for.
“I will gladly pay the usual price,” she smiled softly, before lowering her head to the floor, her eyes resting upon the small pile of shavings at Williams’s feet.
Placing the wood plane on the workbench beside the oak plank, without a word, William turned on his heel and began to walk towards the back of his shop whistling again. She followed behind, the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden floor.
William opened the door to his office and walked inside, flicking the switch on the wall to the left of the entryway. A soft warm glow filled the small room, spreading out to bathe the desk where he attended to the records needed to run his small business. He watched as the woman walked over to the small soft against the far wall and placed her handbag on the floor before sitting to face him.
Without a word, she pulled her dress up, bunching it at the waist, her milky white thighs a contrast against the black patch of hair guarding her pink sex. Lifting her feet to the sofa, she spread her legs, drops of moistness noticeable. Inserting two fingers deep inside her pink slit, she lay her head back, a soft moan barely a whisper escaping her lips as she began to work her cunt.
Unbuttoning his pants, and unzipping his fly, William slid his pants down over his legs to his knees. Standing upon the sofa, her feet planted firmly on either side of her hips, he grasped his semi erect cock in his hand and slowly began to lower himself towards her. Rubbing the head of his cock gently over her slightly parted lips, he closed his eyes, feeling her lips part, he plunged inside her hot mouth, a low moan escaping his lips as her tongue began to work its magic.
I would like to hear feedback on where I should take this story.
Any and all suggestions will be considered.
William pressed hard on the wood plane sliding it over the hard oak plank, small wooden shavings falling silently to the floor, piling beneath his feet. He whistled to himself as he worked, lost in his craft, which had been passed down through his bloodline since before his ancestors had become carpenters in the south of England in the lat 1800’s. Now here in America, a century later, not much had changed, the craft was still in the family as well as the restless spirit that consumed his soul. Hearing the tickle of the small bell that hung above the entryway to his shop, he cocked his head slightly waiting for the voice that he knew would come, inquiring if anyone was about.
“Hello is anyone around?” the voice floated towards him through the air, soft and smooth mimicking the movement of the wood plane on the plank.
William heard the footsteps as they approached from behind, delicate, nervous, unsure. Turning with the wood plane in hand, his eyes caught sight of black cascading ringlets, falling over narrow shoulders covered in a white cashmere sweater, contrasting deep blue eyes, pools of naïve wonder.
“May I help, you?” he smiled at the delicate creature before him, clutching a handbag with long nimble fingers, his eyes, wandering down the rest of her body, noticing the firm round hips, her thighs wrapped with a delicate spring dress, small rose petals decorating the linen.
“I was passing by your shop and noticed a new chair in the display window. How much are you asking for the piece?”
“What are you willing to pay it, my dear lady?” William smiled, his dark eyes sparkling, the corners of his mouth curling into the charming smile he was know for.
“I will gladly pay the usual price,” she smiled softly, before lowering her head to the floor, her eyes resting upon the small pile of shavings at Williams’s feet.
Placing the wood plane on the workbench beside the oak plank, without a word, William turned on his heel and began to walk towards the back of his shop whistling again. She followed behind, the sound of her heels clicking on the wooden floor.
William opened the door to his office and walked inside, flicking the switch on the wall to the left of the entryway. A soft warm glow filled the small room, spreading out to bathe the desk where he attended to the records needed to run his small business. He watched as the woman walked over to the small soft against the far wall and placed her handbag on the floor before sitting to face him.
Without a word, she pulled her dress up, bunching it at the waist, her milky white thighs a contrast against the black patch of hair guarding her pink sex. Lifting her feet to the sofa, she spread her legs, drops of moistness noticeable. Inserting two fingers deep inside her pink slit, she lay her head back, a soft moan barely a whisper escaping her lips as she began to work her cunt.
Unbuttoning his pants, and unzipping his fly, William slid his pants down over his legs to his knees. Standing upon the sofa, her feet planted firmly on either side of her hips, he grasped his semi erect cock in his hand and slowly began to lower himself towards her. Rubbing the head of his cock gently over her slightly parted lips, he closed his eyes, feeling her lips part, he plunged inside her hot mouth, a low moan escaping his lips as her tongue began to work its magic.
