MarlowBunny
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Oct 2, 2010
- Posts
- 193
What advise will you give me for the following opening paragraphs? They are intended to entice the reader into my "Earth Day" contest entry: The primary category will be "Fantasy".
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Bronwyn's Flower Day:
When combs failed to constrain her lustrous black hair under caps or hoods, common folk chancing a glimpse in the Wood reasonably imagined a fairy. Maybe, if they pondered long enough, they mistakenly perceived a young boy in woodsman's clothes. Her stature on extended toes reached only five feet. Her slight frame was proportioned like the goddess Aphrodite except in miniature and always hidden. With the exception of one fateful journeyman, no mortal had ever beheld her nubile flesh.
The journeyman came upon the sight through improbable fortune while collecting water for a camp stew. He shirked the roads for fear of being accosted by relations seeking to press him into loathed service. Rushing water guided the man to a pool fed by a crystal mountain fall. Within the pool, a woman splashed and bathed unabashedly bare. Her beauty was striking and somehow familiar. The man almost stumbled upon her through distraction and carelessness when the girl rose languidly onto a pebbly shore. She then reclined on a sandy patch bright with sunbeams cascading through the forest canopy.
The traveler crouched motionless in shadow mere feet away. Bronwyn splayed her slender legs wide out of habit. Sensations of tiny air currents tickled and excited delicate flesh. Maiden lips parted slowly of their own accord. The feeling of separation and opening charged her body. Every nerve in her porcelain skin tingled awash with warm light and sensuous caressing zephyrs. Her aureola stiffened and crinkled to almost painful sensitivity. Unrequited yearning must inevitably be expected when Flower Day is too long postponed. Cooling evaporation moderated her heat as she curiously explored a still unfocused yen.
The journeyman fantasized that the unimaginable beauty before him spread herself in invitation. His throbbing cock urged him to exploit the opportunity, but he was transfixed. He recalled the pagan stories of The Huntress. Having been spied by a mortal, she transfigured the wayward man into a stag to be chased and mauled by his own dogs. The journeyman was not frightened in the least, but the solemnity of the situation restrained his base desires. His dominating emotion was reverence.
After a time, Bronwyn roused herself and splashed back across the pool to her clothes. Her loins smoldered unrequited. The admiring traveler dwelled to savor every golden moment while the angelic girl bent to don rustic fabric. For some reason, he had expected an elegant underdress. At last, the tableau was diminished as the maiden silently retreated into heavy undergrowth and broke the spell.
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Bronwyn's Flower Day:
When combs failed to constrain her lustrous black hair under caps or hoods, common folk chancing a glimpse in the Wood reasonably imagined a fairy. Maybe, if they pondered long enough, they mistakenly perceived a young boy in woodsman's clothes. Her stature on extended toes reached only five feet. Her slight frame was proportioned like the goddess Aphrodite except in miniature and always hidden. With the exception of one fateful journeyman, no mortal had ever beheld her nubile flesh.
The journeyman came upon the sight through improbable fortune while collecting water for a camp stew. He shirked the roads for fear of being accosted by relations seeking to press him into loathed service. Rushing water guided the man to a pool fed by a crystal mountain fall. Within the pool, a woman splashed and bathed unabashedly bare. Her beauty was striking and somehow familiar. The man almost stumbled upon her through distraction and carelessness when the girl rose languidly onto a pebbly shore. She then reclined on a sandy patch bright with sunbeams cascading through the forest canopy.
The traveler crouched motionless in shadow mere feet away. Bronwyn splayed her slender legs wide out of habit. Sensations of tiny air currents tickled and excited delicate flesh. Maiden lips parted slowly of their own accord. The feeling of separation and opening charged her body. Every nerve in her porcelain skin tingled awash with warm light and sensuous caressing zephyrs. Her aureola stiffened and crinkled to almost painful sensitivity. Unrequited yearning must inevitably be expected when Flower Day is too long postponed. Cooling evaporation moderated her heat as she curiously explored a still unfocused yen.
The journeyman fantasized that the unimaginable beauty before him spread herself in invitation. His throbbing cock urged him to exploit the opportunity, but he was transfixed. He recalled the pagan stories of The Huntress. Having been spied by a mortal, she transfigured the wayward man into a stag to be chased and mauled by his own dogs. The journeyman was not frightened in the least, but the solemnity of the situation restrained his base desires. His dominating emotion was reverence.
After a time, Bronwyn roused herself and splashed back across the pool to her clothes. Her loins smoldered unrequited. The admiring traveler dwelled to savor every golden moment while the angelic girl bent to don rustic fabric. For some reason, he had expected an elegant underdress. At last, the tableau was diminished as the maiden silently retreated into heavy undergrowth and broke the spell.