LITEROTICA PODCAST
LIT CAMS (200 Free Tokens)ADULT TOYSVOD MOVIES

Aussies! Check in here!

Anyone else watching the total eclipse f the moon?
It's also a Red Moon.
Pretty awesome :)
 
warrior queen said:
Anyone else watching the total eclipse f the moon?
It's also a Red Moon.
Pretty awesome :)
Click to expand...

It's a bit of a weird night out there, to be sure.

I'm sorry I didn't call to catch up while I was over in Qld. I had all kinds of trouble with these theme park vouchers I'd bought on deals.com.au the day before I flew out. The internet dropped out half way through the transaction and I ended up being $300 poorer with nothing to show for it. It took me a week to sort out out and messed up a lot of my plans. I was sooooo pissed off and I ended up having to squeeze 3 theme parks into the last 2 days. :(
 
Gil_T2 said:
Damn I had Dialysis yesterday or we would have gladly met you for coffee/tea.:(
Click to expand...

I would have given you all more notice, but my dad booked the flights and I didn't realise I had a 4 hour stopover until I landed in Sydney. Such a shame! I ended up having to shop instead. :eek:

GingerDom said:
Hey Arianthe (((hugssssss)))) and :kiss:'s

Soooooo glad you are enjoying it over there....will you return to WA? haha
Click to expand...

You say that as if I had a choice in the matter...

GingerDom said:
T'was a bit far for me to go for coffee.....haha
Click to expand...

That's assuming you could find the time. We should catch up in the school holidays though. :)

Kiss Me said:
In my experience, any trip down to the Gold Coast with kids in tow has been more tiring than fun... adult trips can be pretty awesome though. :D
Click to expand...

You are absolutely right. I had a lot of fun with my boys, but was exhausted by the time I got home again. I did, however, manage to steal some naughty adult time in the first couple of days and that was pretty fucking amazing. :devil:

robed_masseur said:
Sadly several days too late.
Must check Lit more often...Must check Lit more often...
Must check Lit more often...Must check Lit more often...
Click to expand...

Yes you should! That's not the first coffee invitation you've missed, you know. :rolleyes:
 
Arianthe said:
I would have given you all more notice, but my dad booked the flights and I didn't realise I had a 4 hour stopover until I landed in Sydney. Such a shame! I ended up having to shop instead. :eek:



You say that as if I had a choice in the matter...



That's assuming you could find the time. We should catch up in the school holidays though. :)



You are absolutely right. I had a lot of fun with my boys, but was exhausted by the time I got home again. I did, however, manage to steal some naughty adult time in the first couple of days and that was pretty fucking amazing. :devil:



Yes you should! That's not the first coffee invitation you've missed, you know. :rolleyes:
Click to expand...

There is always a choice......right? :)

And a catch up for sure would be awesome :D
 
i was wondering how this intro reads?

it could be First Time, it could even be Romance, but...?

It’s December 1976, with stultifying summer heat lying across the city like a dog’s hot breath. I’m nineteen, standing in the front yard doing not a lot of anything. I’m wearing shorts and a singlet, and If I decide to go the milk bar up on Dundas Street corner I’ll slip my feet into thongs. Not that I’ll be going out for any potato chips or a cold Coke, I don’t have any money, so I’m standing there barefoot, with stringy crabgass like an octogenarian’s pubes scratching the soles of my feet. It’s just on a year before I leave home, not that I know it at the time of course. Back then I was out of work and not really looking too hard to find any, and when I look back at photos of myself in those days, when I see the dirty blonde hair in my eyes like an Old English Sheep Dog, when I try to recall how it felt to be me that summer, all stringy muscle and nut brown from the sun, I get all nostalgic for Sherbet’s <i>Howzat</i> or Fox and the sexy sibilant <i>Suh suh suh single bed.</i>

Halcyon days indeed, and isn’t it funny how you never realise at the time that these are the good old days? It’s only when we look back…

Anyway, I’m in front of the old single storey weatherboard, our house at the time, a structure like an out of luck door-to-door salesman in a suit shiny at the knees and elbows, shoes worn at the heel. I hear the throaty rumble of a V8 working up the gears, and when I turn to face the street I see an orange Holden Monaro sweep into the drive of the house next door.

Our neighbours to the right, if I’m standing on the street looking in at the swaybacked weatherboard I call home, live in a newly built redbrick block of flats. There’s a low brick wall with a double row of letter boxes set in it: 1 to 16. To the left it’s a single storey house like mine, only in brick this time, our travelling salesman made good in a new suit and shiny shoes.

It’s the driveway of the house that the gutsy Monaro has come to a halt in. The pipes burble for a few seconds before the engine roars like a night at the speedway, the driver blipping the pedal for no particular reason other than it makes a fucking good noise.

The car falls silent, sitting there all squat and menacing, prehistoric on its fat tyres.

The door closest to me, the driver’s door on the right, swings open. There’s a pause, and then I see a pair of wedge-heeled, cork-soled shoes appear. The shoes have feet in them, those feet in turn attached to well-turned calves. The shoes hit the asphalt drive, and smooth tanned shins connected to lean-muscled and shapely thighs catch my attention.

The woman, our new neighbour, fusses with the hem of her short skirt. She glances up, straightens when she sees me gawking, lifts her sunglasses from her face and peers at me through the glare, grins and then says, “G’day.”

“Oh, yeah, hi,” I reply. I’m not being ungracious; I’m just taking in the singlet and the skirt, the blonde ponytail and her legs.

“Hot enough for you?” she asks, grinning.

“Just a bit,” I reply, ogling the backs of her thighs all the way to the cheeks of her arse as she turns and bends, leaning into the car to grab a crocheted bag in the Jamaican national colours.

She turns back and takes a few steps so she can boost the car door closed with one hip. She hitches the bag on her shoulder, her sunglasses fixed on me. Or at least I think she’s looking at me, it’s a bit difficult to tell with her eyes behind those lenses.

It goes on for a bit, with me growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment. I’m not good with girls my own age, never mind good-looking women in their thirties. And I’m especially challenged when it comes to dead-sexy good-looking women in their thirties.

Then she surprises me by asking, “You wanna come in and have a cold drink?” She nudges her chin towards her house, just in case I’m a bit thick or something. And I must have come across a bit slow at the time, what with my mouth hanging open as it was. “Or a beer,” she adds. “I’ve got a few stubbies in the fridge.”
 
geronimo_appleby said:
i was wondering how this intro reads?

it could be First Time, it could even be Romance, but...?

It’s December 1976, with stultifying summer heat lying across the city like a dog’s hot breath. I’m nineteen, standing in the front yard doing not a lot of anything. I’m wearing shorts and a singlet, and If I decide to go the milk bar up on Dundas Street corner I’ll slip my feet into thongs. Not that I’ll be going out for any potato chips or a cold Coke, I don’t have any money, so I’m standing there barefoot, with stringy crabgass like an octogenarian’s pubes scratching the soles of my feet. It’s just on a year before I leave home, not that I know it at the time of course. Back then I was out of work and not really looking too hard to find any, and when I look back at photos of myself in those days, when I see the dirty blonde hair in my eyes like an Old English Sheep Dog, when I try to recall how it felt to be me that summer, all stringy muscle and nut brown from the sun, I get all nostalgic for Sherbet’s <i>Howzat</i> or Fox and the sexy sibilant <i>Suh suh suh single bed.</i>

Halcyon days indeed, and isn’t it funny how you never realise at the time that these are the good old days? It’s only when we look back…

Anyway, I’m in front of the old single storey weatherboard, our house at the time, a structure like an out of luck door-to-door salesman in a suit shiny at the knees and elbows, shoes worn at the heel. I hear the throaty rumble of a V8 working up the gears, and when I turn to face the street I see an orange Holden Monaro sweep into the drive of the house next door.

Our neighbours to the right, if I’m standing on the street looking in at the swaybacked weatherboard I call home, live in a newly built redbrick block of flats. There’s a low brick wall with a double row of letter boxes set in it: 1 to 16. To the left it’s a single storey house like mine, only in brick this time, our travelling salesman made good in a new suit and shiny shoes.

It’s the driveway of the house that the gutsy Monaro has come to a halt in. The pipes burble for a few seconds before the engine roars like a night at the speedway, the driver blipping the pedal for no particular reason other than it makes a fucking good noise.

The car falls silent, sitting there all squat and menacing, prehistoric on its fat tyres.

The door closest to me, the driver’s door on the right, swings open. There’s a pause, and then I see a pair of wedge-heeled, cork-soled shoes appear. The shoes have feet in them, those feet in turn attached to well-turned calves. The shoes hit the asphalt drive, and smooth tanned shins connected to lean-muscled and shapely thighs catch my attention.

The woman, our new neighbour, fusses with the hem of her short skirt. She glances up, straightens when she sees me gawking, lifts her sunglasses from her face and peers at me through the glare, grins and then says, “G’day.”

“Oh, yeah, hi,” I reply. I’m not being ungracious; I’m just taking in the singlet and the skirt, the blonde ponytail and her legs.

“Hot enough for you?” she asks, grinning.

“Just a bit,” I reply, ogling the backs of her thighs all the way to the cheeks of her arse as she turns and bends, leaning into the car to grab a crocheted bag in the Jamaican national colours.

She turns back and takes a few steps so she can boost the car door closed with one hip. She hitches the bag on her shoulder, her sunglasses fixed on me. Or at least I think she’s looking at me, it’s a bit difficult to tell with her eyes behind those lenses.

It goes on for a bit, with me growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment. I’m not good with girls my own age, never mind good-looking women in their thirties. And I’m especially challenged when it comes to dead-sexy good-looking women in their thirties.

Then she surprises me by asking, “You wanna come in and have a cold drink?” She nudges her chin towards her house, just in case I’m a bit thick or something. And I must have come across a bit slow at the time, what with my mouth hanging open as it was. “Or a beer,” she adds. “I’ve got a few stubbies in the fridge.”
Click to expand...

I really really like it. The line about the crabgrass is pure gold. My only criticism: orange monaros weren't remotely prehistoric at the time.
 
Arianthe said:
I really really like it. The line about the crabgrass is pure gold. My only criticism: orange monaros weren't remotely prehistoric at the time.
Click to expand...

noted, but i meant the look of it as opposed to the vintage. still, it's worth re-working. :)

how about:

The pipes burble for a few seconds before the engine roars like a night at the speedway, the driver blipping the pedal for no particular reason other than it makes a fucking good sound, almost primeval. Then the car falls silent, sitting there all squat and menacing, a malevolent challenge all low-slung on its fat tyres, with Bon Scott’s raw-throated shriek through the speakers inside cut short.
 
Last edited:
geronimo_appleby said:
noted, but i meant the look of it as opposed to the vintage. still, it's worth re-working. :)
Click to expand...

Oh, I know what you meant. I just doubt they were perceived as prehistoric back in the day. Completely open to debate, of course. :)
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Similar threads

F
Erotic Fortunes Told
2 3 4
Replies
96
Views
2K
forestpoet
F
Susurration
  • Sticky
FAO/FYI: All Playgrounders with UK Friends Here - Why UK Users May Soon Become Scarce
2
Replies
49
Views
5K
~Elizabeth~
~Elizabeth~
dct10538
Opinions welcome: thoughts on my F/f personal draft...
Replies
1
Views
423
Mrtenant
Mrtenant
PrettyLilPussy19
🌟📬THE JULY PM CHALLENGE📬 :: Year Five📮🌟
37 38 39
Replies
959
Views
29K
Whiskeyjack
Whiskeyjack
flameinsidesoul
Why Are You Here This Weekend? The Secret Allure of Lit-Erotica’s Midnight Crowd (Hint: It’s Not Just the Kink)
Replies
24
Views
1K
ThePullOutKing
ThePullOutKing
Back
Top