Snippets - December 2006

[Lady_Kit]

I've been trying to put together a real story for Lit submission, not just particpating in SRP threads. My initial thought was a submission for the Holiday contest, an incentive and time table to work with, but it didn't make any difference. At any rate, I offer, "A Holiday with Friends" a snipped of a group sex story.

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Christmas 1991: The first Christmas for the Holiday Inn, as they’d jokingly named the large house Gillian Bishop inherited from an aunt.

“Its Huge!” Mark, Gillians’, husband exclaimed when he’d first laid eyes on the place.

“Of course it is, it’s a family home, in the old style. Half a dozen bedrooms, all but two with their own bath. The perfect place to entertain…”

It was a tempting suggestion. The attractive couple loved house parties and having their closest friends around them for days at a time was irresistible; they dubbed the place “The Holiday Inn.” Each Christmas found Mark and Gillian entertaining friends at the country house. Presents were forbidden, though each guest brought a gift. Hospitality from Mark & Gillian; fine wines and cocktails from Paul & Andrew; Micki and her partner Gavin decorated the house for the season; restaurateurs Kate & Emily, who would this year celebrate their first anniversary on Yule, were in charge of food. Everyone brought books, movies or games to share with the other occupants of the house and for seven days the rooms would ring with laughter, joy and a fair amount of good healthy lust.

Over the years they had shared the best and worst of times together. Ten years ago Paul lost a his life partner to cancer; for weeks the man was inconsolable. He stayed at the Inn all that time; a safe place away from the sickness and death.

There were joyous times as well. The year of the Great Easter Egg Hunt; two dozen colored eggs, a three foot tall stuffed rabbit and enough jelly beans to fill a truck. All for one little girl who had just come home to live with her new Mommies, Kate & Emily.

The best of times, the worst of times. Definitely the worst of times for Gillian, this Christmas 2006. The first Christmas since loosing Mark. She wouldn’t be here except that this week was his idea; final wishes in a way. He’d put the whole week together before his death; a final gift to Gillian, or so said the envelope that included the instructions.

 

[ABSTRUSE]

Something from my novel:


I eat therefore I am fat. That’s not philosophy that’s prophecy. It’s a predilection towards the enjoyment of the culinary arts and the happiness they can bring. This is ensnared within the deepest recesses of my genetic makeup and is something I have no control over. That’s what I tell myself when I step on the scale, not ‘you eat too much saturated fat and carbs.’ I should have been a food critic but I like everything and would feel bad if I insulted someone’s cooking. Plus I wouldn’t want to tip someone off to a place where I would want to eat everything on the menu. I would want it to be my private sanctuary where I could indulge in my proclivity to be intimate with my chosen repast. A place where I could pull up a chair to the buffet or a place where a la Carte would become, “just leave the cart”. That place where you walk in and they ask you if you would like your usual table.

Of course being a lover of gastronomy and its lesser studies does not help with maintaining proper weight. I’m quite certain that my love for eating will be the death of me. If I don’t choke on something for lack of chewing properly I will more than likely succumb to hardening of the arteries or heart disease. I will then die the way I lived; my body will be trussed like a Thanksgiving turkey, then basted every 15 minutes until golden brown and laid on a table with an apple in my mouth. Cranberry sauce will be optional. Until such time as my demise I try the next option in the war on fat, Diet and Exercise.
I watched my salt intake, my fat intake, and my sugar intake while I spent my lunch hour fitness walking. I tried the Anna Nicole Smith diet of donut holes and Strawberry milk but I looked more like fat Anna than newly thin again Anna. No one approached me about product endorsement or free weight loss programs. Then again I feel safe in knowing I didn’t have to compromise any brain cells like she did.

It didn’t matter if the beach was in the south or in the north I would have washed up on its shores anyway. I was doing Atkins long before it was popular but without the whole carb cutting thing. While I could easily polish off a whole steer by myself I needed the potatoes as accompaniment. The correct term is steak and potatoes, not steak and steak just as it is a burger and fries, not burger without bun and no fries. This is America isn’t it? As far as the cabbage soup diet goes, come on, I’m Polish, I know what cabbage soup does to a person. I didn’t feel the need to go somewhere to pay and be weighed; I can humiliate myself other ways like wearing a bikini on the beach. I had no intentions on "calling Jenny" either. The pyramids in Giza have stood longer than my food pyramid and I realize the only man that would be my soul mate is Willie Wonka.

So when diets fail we resort to exercise. Exercise is expensive self-flagellation. You can pay weekly, monthly or yearly to engage in various means of torture. I can’t count the amount of miles I’ve walked on a treadmill. The equatorial diameter of the Earth is 7,926 miles I think I’ve walked 7,925 of them with no visible results. Every once in a while I get this horrifying notion in my head that I should attempt jogging. I try to convince myself that I should arise before the sun, do some stretching and run out the door with my sweat suit and Walkman. Thankfully a good night’s sleep knocks that foolishness out of my head and I power scuff my way to the kitchen for coffee and French toast.

I lasted in aerobics about a week being unable to take orders off of the skinny thing up front that kept calling us “Ladies” and would say “You’re doing great!” I would have respected her more if she was a lot less perky and called us a herd of heifers. Don’t try and bullshit me into fitness. She knew damn well I was going for a chocolate shake when I left there. I deserved a reward for not smacking her bony ass around and for making me wear Lycra.

Buns of steel are not one of those phrases ever uttered in my family. Our buns are like their namesakes, soft and doughy. Thigh master always sounded like an S & M device to me. Abdominizers you can forget about too. I don’t want 6-pack abs; I want a 12 pack and a pizza. The only class I ever enjoyed was my Tai Bo class. I liked the idea of kicking and punching. I would imagine a right cross to the jaw landing on that rude sales clerk or a sidekick to the groin of that asshole that cut me off on the expressway. Jab to the bitch at the bank! Jab to my high school gym teacher! Jab to the people who make Pop tarts and decided to cut back on the filling. I worked off a lot of aggression during that class. I used Dagger’s head as the punching bag, which felt really good.

I decided my quest for the supermodel body or even the regular model’s body was not very realistic. My genetic predisposition just will not allow for it. I decided to opt for spiritual enlightenment through meditation. I would become one with my spirit and accept myself for who I really am. I didn’t want to do yoga just yogurt. I can’t imagine my body trying to contort itself into anything less than the lotus position. In meditation all you need is a quiet place and yourself. At first it was difficult to try to clear my mind.

Over the years I had collected so much useless knowledge and buried so many issues that I was mentally like one of those old ladies whose houses are overrun with cats. My un-neutered thoughts had litter after litter until there was no room left for me. I imagined that any moment the thought police would be knocking at my skull with a citation or at least a threat of condemning my brain.

Once I learned to clear my mind I was able to unwind and begin my search for my personal path to enlightenment. I was able to relax more and feel like my karma had taken a turn for the better. I was now one with the universe. I also tried creative visualization. Instead of imagining myself bashing someone over the head with a hammer I imagined doing it with a large sunflower instead. They tell you to focus on what you want in life, to imagine yourself in that perfect job or driving that expensive car so you can feel empowered to achieve those goals. I didn’t want to be greedy so I started with dessert. A large bowl of chocolate, black cherry and peanut butter ripple ice cream settled comfortably on a bed of chocolate turtle brownies. This would be drizzled with a praline and caramel sauce with a dollop of fresh whipped cream and a very large ripe strawberry crowning the top. With only a simple trip to the grocery store I was able to easily achieve that goal. I won’t mention the peanut butter cups I ate on the way home.

 

[angela146]

I almost feel sorry for him

Could I please get some feedback on this one?

Kind, gentle feedback please.

I know it's rough. I'm just looking for impression.

Thanks!
-----------------------------
I almost feel sorry for him.

He's a heartbreaker, but he's gentle. Let's 'em down easy. Loves women, one at a time. Some women think they can get him to settle down, but he wont, and doesn't pretend otherwise. He's honest.

Some women really like him because he won't get "clingy" and won't try to take over their lives. He's a nice place to visit - and revisit - kind of like a timeshare.

He's good - comes well recommended, even by the ones with broken hearts.

I would try him out, except he doesn't do married women.

"She", on the other hand, is hard to get. He flirts. She flirts back but doesn't lead him on. He tries to ask her out. She *turns* him down but doesn't *shoot* him down.

She likes him - as a friend, talks to him, listens to him, is interested in what he has to say.

He likes her - and he wants her - not just her body but her mind. He respects her. She's a challenge, and more than a challenge.

He even asked for my help. What is he doing wrong? Is it his reputation, the fact that he's a few years older - but within range?

I told him I couldn't help much. I haven't dated in a dozen years. I don't remember how it works.

Could I talk to her? No, that wouldn't be good. It would make him seem weak. I suggest that she's a little out of his league. He's says I'm probably right.

But I know that's not the problem.

Why doesn't he just ask her? Ask her if he even has a chance? He knows that won't help. He doesn't say it, but he wants her respect and is willing to work to figure her out; to do things her way.

But I know that won't work. He doesn't get it.

I wish I could tell him. If I told him, he would understand - and even accept. He's like that. But he might not be able to keep it to himself. He might let it slip without realizing it. He clearly doesn't have experience with these things - not the way I do.

And it's not my place. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him.

Besides, I don't "know" what I know. She hasn't told me. She's given some subtle clues, the kind that I could pick up on, and act on, if I wanted to - the kind that you learn to notice with experience.

And besides that, if I told him, he would want to know how I know; And if I explained it, he would know *why* I know; And he would know about me, too.

And I would rather he not know that about me.

So I won't tell him - about her or me.

But maybe I'll tell *her*. Maybe she already knows. After all, if I can pick up her clues, she could pick up the clues that I don't even realize I'm giving her. She has more experience. I dabble - she lives.

Then we'd have something to share. No, not that. I mean we could share more as friends. I would love to have a friend who understands. We could talk about things that we don't talk about with other people.

People like him, and the women he loves.

And maybe, together, we could figure out a way to give him a clue.

I almost feel sorry for him - wanting someone he can't have and not knowing how hopeless it is.

But not really. With all the somebodies he has, he can do without this one.

 

[Aurora Black]

We have to ask for feedback? Oops.

 

[Skip1934a]

Could I please get some feedback on this one?

Kind, gentle feedback please.

I know it's rough. I'm just looking for impression.

Thanks!
-----------------------------
I almost feel sorry for him.

He's a heartbreaker, but he's gentle. Let's 'em down easy. Loves women, one at a time. Some women think they can get him to settle down, but he wont, and doesn't pretend otherwise. He's honest.

Some women really like him because he won't get "clingy" and won't try to take over their lives. He's a nice place to visit - and revisit - kind of like a timeshare.

He's good - comes well recommended, even by the ones with broken hearts.

I would try him out, except he doesn't do married women.

"She", on the other hand, is hard to get. He flirts. She flirts back but doesn't lead him on. He tries to ask her out. She *turns* him down but doesn't *shoot* him down.

She likes him - as a friend, talks to him, listens to him, is interested in what he has to say.

He likes her - and he wants her - not just her body but her mind. He respects her. She's a challenge, and more than a challenge.

He even asked for my help. What is he doing wrong? Is it his reputation, the fact that he's a few years older - but within range?

I told him I couldn't help much. I haven't dated in a dozen years. I don't remember how it works.

Could I talk to her? No, that wouldn't be good. It would make him seem weak. I suggest that she's a little out of his league. He's says I'm probably right.

But I know that's not the problem.

Why doesn't he just ask her? Ask her if he even has a chance? He knows that won't help. He doesn't say it, but he wants her respect and is willing to work to figure her out; to do things her way.

But I know that won't work. He doesn't get it.

I wish I could tell him. If I told him, he would understand - and even accept. He's like that. But he might not be able to keep it to himself. He might let it slip without realizing it. He clearly doesn't have experience with these things - not the way I do.

And it's not my place. If she wanted him to know, she would tell him.

Besides, I don't "know" what I know. She hasn't told me. She's given some subtle clues, the kind that I could pick up on, and act on, if I wanted to - the kind that you learn to notice with experience.

And besides that, if I told him, he would want to know how I know; And if I explained it, he would know *why* I know; And he would know about me, too.

And I would rather he not know that about me.

So I won't tell him - about her or me.

But maybe I'll tell *her*. Maybe she already knows. After all, if I can pick up her clues, she could pick up the clues that I don't even realize I'm giving her. She has more experience. I dabble - she lives.

Then we'd have something to share. No, not that. I mean we could share more as friends. I would love to have a friend who understands. We could talk about things that we don't talk about with other people.

People like him, and the women he loves.

And maybe, together, we could figure out a way to give him a clue.

I almost feel sorry for him - wanting someone he can't have and not knowing how hopeless it is.

But not really. With all the somebodies he has, he can do without this one.

Very well written. Who's going to get who?

 

[angela146]

Very well written. Who's going to get who?

Thank you !!!

Well, it's based loosely on three real people, but I made it a lot more poetic than it really is.

If I'm reading her correctly, she doesn't do guys so he's not getting anywhere with her. I really doubt that he and I would go anywhere. He's into serial monogamy and that isn't going to happen with me.

As for her and me, hmmm...

 

[angela146]

We have to ask for feedback? Oops.

Well, there doesn't seem to be much feedback happening so I figured I would try to jumpstart it.

 

[TheeGoatPig]

Well, there doesn't seem to be much feedback happening so I figured I would try to jumpstart it.

I haven't gotten around to reading any of it yet (and yet I still have the gall to say I'm "bored" )

 

[Skip1934a]

Thank you !!!

Well, it's based loosely on three real people, but I made it a lot more poetic than it really is.

If I'm reading her correctly, she doesn't do guys so he's not getting anywhere with her. I really doubt that he and I would go anywhere. He's into serial monogamy and that isn't going to happen with me.

As for her and me, hmmm...

I wasn't going to be so pointed, but I suspected as much. Good fortune.