Another one I've been playing with. Is it a solid lead-in, or a total washout? How could it be strengthened?
Feel free to discuss it. I'd be more than happy to hear your views on the matter.
-T
Dave wanted sex. Sex has been scarce lately and the need finally settled upon him, seeped into his very bones right to the marrow. I had to put him off. How could I explain the love bites all over my shoulders, the deep, livid scratches from Andrew's nails upon my back, or the angry red welts upon my ass and upper thighs from his quirt and belt? Not to mention my thoroughly fucked, well stretched ass and pussy ... I was too sore and too tired to fuck Dave right now, and I'd been commanded not to clean out before I left for home. Andrew's cum still pooled within me. My ass and vagina overflowed with his sticky essence. Perhaps I should let Dave see! He'd be confused and upset, but he'd love me no less for all that. I knew this, and I hated him for it.
No. I couldn't do that to him; my lawfully-dreaded husband but the father of my beloved children. He might be soft, but this gentle man truly loved me. Me, and the three kids. As much as I hated to do so, I'd have to tell him I had a headache. Again.
This one seems a little derived. Like trying to take 'well fucked' and get a shock factor out of it. The other had lots of characterization and tension. This one just has lots of quirky sex stuff. Interesting? Perhaps. Charged? Drawing in? Not so much.
Funny! That is EXACTLY what I did! ... and there I was thinking I did a good job of building it up. The exact line on my cue card read " Well-used slut must evade frisky husband's advances."
I'd try to make it more 'personable' or 'story-like' and less 'BOO--SEX!' Here's a hastly written example.
Dave was giving me that look again. Damn, by back hurt. "Honey...what do you feel like doing tonight?"
I knew that look. He wanted sex. After so many years togehter, I knew all of his looks. My legs were going to be so sore in the morning. I looked up at him. "Tonight?"
Dave leaned back in his chair. "Yeah, I guess I'm in one of my moods." He always called them moods. I curled my fingers over one of the love-bites on my neck.
"I...dunno. I...have a headache." My pussy twitched. It still felt stretched out. My hand went bentween my legs, unconciously covering myself up beneath the table.
"A headache...right." His face fell. I hated to have to do that to him, but there was no way he'd miss the lash marks across my back. I'd never be able to hide them, even in the dark. And my ass still felt like Andrews cock was inside.
Dave stood up slowly. "Well...I guess I'll just turn in early then." His face was molded sadness.
"Don't go!" I wanted to scream. "I love you too!" But just thinking about Andrew had already made my pussy wet. If Dave caught the scent... I just had to turn him down. I couldn't hurt him. I couldn't make him use the same pussy that Andrew had violated, couldn't let him touch the same ass that Andrew had cum across. I had to protect Dave from the horrible person I had become.
There, that's not bad. Seems a little rushed, though. I was gong for more of a focus on the emotions and people than on the wierd sexual markings. Hope it helps
It read well to me! Thanks for the ideas. I usually go quite heavy on dialogue, but not in the openings of my stories. You've given me something to think about.
