scribe_m
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- Joined
- Aug 25, 2005
- Posts
- 3,327
Introduction
C: "What's the difference between a writer and a masochist?"
J: "Dunno."
C: "Me neither."
Instead of a single SRP in this thread, J and I will have more than one SRP going on, an anthology of sorts. It's something of an experiment (in pain, probably) that we're trying for various reasons. The SRP's won't be high art, and there **is** perviness ahead. We're open to a bisexual female character to join a scene; please PM.
Anyway, enough of that. Wish us luck!
Scribe.
1. Always a Bridesmaid
Myavi looked at Jen. Jen was to be married this day, and looked beautiful in her bridal gown. Jen black hair cascaded down onto her bare shoulders. The light in the bride's room of the church showed the radiant white of her dress. Myavi could not help but admire her loveliness, but could not overlook her womanly features: her delicate blonde hair, her glistening red lips, her creamy skin, her slim waist, and her curvacious bosom.
"Jen... you look..." Myavi approched Jen, her blood racing. She had known Jen since childhood. Her first friend, her first love, her first kiss, her first.
"Myavi..." Jen trailed, looking at her lifelong friend. She touched Myavi's brown hair, caressed her cheek. Jen's heart was pounding -- nervousness? Desire? Regret? Myavi, too, looked so attractive in her blue bridesmaid outfit. Myavi reached out, held her closer, eyes welling with tears.
This would be her last chance.
Scribe.
C: "What's the difference between a writer and a masochist?"
J: "Dunno."
C: "Me neither."
Instead of a single SRP in this thread, J and I will have more than one SRP going on, an anthology of sorts. It's something of an experiment (in pain, probably) that we're trying for various reasons. The SRP's won't be high art, and there **is** perviness ahead. We're open to a bisexual female character to join a scene; please PM.
Anyway, enough of that. Wish us luck!

Scribe.
1. Always a Bridesmaid
Myavi looked at Jen. Jen was to be married this day, and looked beautiful in her bridal gown. Jen black hair cascaded down onto her bare shoulders. The light in the bride's room of the church showed the radiant white of her dress. Myavi could not help but admire her loveliness, but could not overlook her womanly features: her delicate blonde hair, her glistening red lips, her creamy skin, her slim waist, and her curvacious bosom.
"Jen... you look..." Myavi approched Jen, her blood racing. She had known Jen since childhood. Her first friend, her first love, her first kiss, her first.
"Myavi..." Jen trailed, looking at her lifelong friend. She touched Myavi's brown hair, caressed her cheek. Jen's heart was pounding -- nervousness? Desire? Regret? Myavi, too, looked so attractive in her blue bridesmaid outfit. Myavi reached out, held her closer, eyes welling with tears.
This would be her last chance.
Scribe.