The Challenge Club

[Guest]

Yep, yep... can't post a challenge for a story that you have already written.

Must post a new one!

If one hasn't been posted by tomorrow, then I will post one.

 

[Black Tulip]

Did I read that right? You won the Earth Day Contest!

GRONCATULONISAT eh CONGRATULATIONS

 

[Dingus Guy]

Crimson

I am very proud of you. I am sorry that I have not read it yet, but congratulations nonetheless. Big Hugs!!!

http://tulip.virtualflowers.com/img/p/VF/lg/2076.jpg

 

[Guest]

Did I read that right? You won the Earth Day Contest!

GRONCATULONISAT eh CONGRATULATIONS

Umm, yep, you read it right, lol.

Thanks!

 

[Guest]

Re: Crimson

I am very proud of you. I am sorry that I have not read it yet, but congratulations nonetheless. Big Hugs!!!

Thanks DG!

 

[Guest]

Okay, new challenge.

I think we've switched to having the challenges last two weeks. Is that ok with everyone, or do you want to go back to the original one week time limit?

This challenge will be a bit different as I am not going to specify any particular words that must be included.

I want you to pick a category in which you thought you could never write a story (for some people, it would be incest, for some transsexuals, etc). Once you've picked a category, write a story.

I think writing a story in a difficult category is enough of a challenge without adding extra requirements. Of course, you must meet Lit's minimum word requirement of 750.

 

[cloudy]

I'm in - or let's just say, I'm going to try....

 

[neonlyte]

Count me in.

NL

 

[Black Tulip]

Uh oh, that is a mean one.

I think two weeks is ok. We seem to be needing more time. Not surprising as we are writing longer stories.

Welcome Neonlyte. Please do join in.
Cloudy, nice to have you along.

 

[SummerMorning]

Bumpity bumpity up the rumpity...

...will wire and wyre and try to write and not quite right so late at night...

...btw... I'm back .

 

[Guest]

Ok, here's my challenge story.

Incest would be the category that I figured would be my hardest challenge. Writing about family members that have sex with each other makes me shudder. So, my goal was to write an Incest story that was out of the norm for that category. Usually we see family members hop into bed together without one thought of what it will do to them, and there are never any consequences for their actions. My story goes beyond that, I hope. Please let me know what you think and how successful you feel I was at capturing the turmoil that incest can cause.

**********

Daughter of His Heart

Things had been weird between my dad and me for the last couple of years. Now that I was in college, I only went home for holidays and summer break. Each time I was home, things seemed to get more uncomfortable. I really wasn’t sure of the cause. Maybe it was the strange look I would catch a glimpse of on my father’s face before it slipped away. I don’t know. Maybe my imagination was running away with me. Whatever it was, Dad seemed to not be able to look me in the face anymore.

My mom died when I was twelve. As far as I knew, Dad had not even been on a date in the past seven years. It wasn’t because he couldn’t. Women practically threw themselves at him. He just didn’t have any desire to be with another woman. His love and passion for my mother was so deep that when she died, part of him died with her. So, it’s only been the two of us these last several years. Up until my senior year of high school, things were fine between us. We talked and laughed together and hung out like always. Then, things got a little weird. I would catch Dad staring at me with this odd look on his face. It would disappear the moment that he saw me looking at him. If that had been the only instance, I would have thought that I was seeing things. But there were other happenings. He no longer talked and goofed off with me. We didn’t hang out anymore. It seemed as though he couldn’t even stand to be in the room with me because he always left a few minutes after I would appear.

I tried to talk to him about it once. He brushed it away and told me that I was being silly. Going away to college made it a little easier to bear since I wasn’t around him often, but the little time that I did spend at home was awkward. If I was lucky, I would see him an hour out of the day. The rest of the time, he spent at his job or worked on stuff at home. The distance that had grown between us hurt me. I knew that he would never do anything on purpose to cause me pain, but not knowing why his behavior towards me had changed so abruptly cut me deep.

If I wouldn’t miss him so terribly, I would stay at school. I could easily get a job for the summer, but I knew that not going home wasn’t an option. He was the only family that I had left, and even with the tension that suffocated the air around us, I loved him so much that I couldn’t stay away. I shook my head to clear my thoughts as I pulled into the driveway. It was spring break, and even though I had told Dad that I wasn’t sure I was coming, I was home for a visit.

Dad’s truck wasn’t in the driveway, so I carried my suitcase into the empty house and set it on my bed. After a long day’s work, I thought that Dad deserved to come home to a hot cooked meal, so I strolled into the kitchen to see what I could scrounge up for supper. The bareness of the inside of the cabinets and fridge was shocking. I had never seen so little food in the house. Dad had always kept the kitchen stocked. I began to wonder if he bought stuff prior to my arrival and that the state of the kitchen when I wasn’t here was what I was seeing now.

I checked my watch to see how much time I had before Dad would come home from work and rushed out to the car. I still had a couple of hours, so if I hurried, I could go to the nearby market and get back in time to fix a nice supper.

**********

The savory aroma of a home cooked meal wafted through the house as I quickly set the table in anticipation of Dad’s arrival. My mouth watered as I placed the steaming platter of meatloaf on the table. Buttered rolls, green beans, and mashed potatoes followed. I hoped Dad didn’t mind the mashed potatoes being instant. Anytime I tried to make them from scratch, they always ended up lumpy. Just as I finished placing the dishes on the table, I heard the roar of Dad’s truck as it pulled into the driveway.

“Gabby?” he questioned as he entered the house. “I thought you weren’t coming home.”

“In the kitchen Dad,” I called.

“What’s that smell?” he asked as his tall body leaned against the door frame.

I rushed over to him and threw my arms around him, but he just stood there woodenly as I hugged him. My heart did a little lurch and I stepped back, determined not to let him see the effect his aloofness had on me. “I fixed supper. I thought you’d like a home cooked meal for a change.”

“Looks like quite a spread. You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know Dad, but we haven’t eaten a meal together in a long time, and I thought it would be nice.”

Well, I had hoped it would be nice, and that maybe a glimmer of our past relationship would come shining through, but the meal passed mostly in heavy silence. Dad asked a couple of questions about school but spent the rest of the time with his head bowed low and his eyes fixed firmly on his plate. As soon as it was empty, he stood up and mumbled, “I’m going to take a shower and head off to bed. It’s been a long night. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

With a heavy heart, I began clearing away the dishes and loading them into the dishwasher. Where was the Dad that loved spending time with me? Where was the Dad that couldn’t wait to hang out and watch TV with me or just talk? He had disappeared and was replaced by this stranger that now avoided me as much as possible. That night, unable to sleep, I skulked through the house. Dad’s behavior tore at my very soul, and I wished that I had not come home. I did not understand what had caused such a drastic change in him.

Each morning that week, Dad was gone before I got out of bed, and each night, he got home only in time to eat the supper that I had cooked for him, and then he would take a shower and head to bed. There was no time to talk, no time to laugh or have fun. I thought we would at least have the weekend to spend together, but Dad even had to work on Saturday, and he said he had made plans to help a friend on Sunday because he thought I was not going to be home.

I spent my days pouring over old family albums and exploring the attic where Mom’s belongings were stored. After Mom died, I had wanted to keep some of her things, but Dad had said her loss was too fresh, and he wouldn’t be able to stand seeing her stuff lying around the house. He told me that in a few years, when I was older, I could go through her stuff and choose whatever I wanted. I thought seven years was long enough, so I spent my days trying to decide which items were the most special.

Saturday, I discovered a large trunk that contained many of Mom’s clothing and a few quilts. My heart leapt with excitement when I spied the quilts. I remembered many quilt tents and ghost stories told while holding a flashlight and being completely covered by a quilt. My great-grandmother had given them to my parents as wedding gifts. She had stitched them by hand throughout my mother’s childhood in anticipation of her eventual nuptials. Even though they had been stored inside the trunk for many years, they still carried a faint scent of Mom’s perfume.

I pulled out my favorite, a wedding ring design with bright colors and fanciful patterns. Countless times while growing up, I asked Mom if I could have this quilt. She promised that I could have it when I got married. Since she was no longer alive, I figured it wouldn’t hurt anything to get it a little earlier than she had intended. I gathered up the keepsakes that I had chosen, the quilt, a couple of pieces of jewelry, and some pictures, and walked down the stairs and out of the dusty attic.

Later that night, I snuggled up on the couch under Mom’s quilt while waiting for Dad to come home from work. He had phoned that afternoon and said it would be late, because he was going out with some friends, and I shouldn’t wait up. I was determined to do so. I had seen very little of Dad while home for break, and I resolved that I would stay up all night if that was what it took to spend even a few minutes with him. It grew late, and I must have lost my fight with sleep because the last thing I remembered was the sound of the late night movie coming on and then nothing until I felt a crushing weight lay upon my body.

Stricken with terror, I tried to sit up, but the weight of whatever was lying on top of me wouldn’t allow me to move even an inch. I realized that it was a man, and when he began to mumble softly, I was horrified when I recognized Dad’s voice.

“So beautiful,” he murmured as he planted kisses on my face.

“Dad? What are you doing?” I cried frantically, but he paid no heed.

Obviously, before I was awakened by the weight of his body upon mine, he had pulled off the quilt because nothing was between us but our clothing. My mind was unable to comprehend what was happening, and it just shut down, leaving my body to deal with the raw emotions flooding it. I tried to fight, tried to push him off me, but his knees were firmly planted on each side of my hips and his arms were beside my shoulders. Even if he hadn’t been so heavy, I wouldn’t have gotten the leverage to push him off.

“Daddy, stop!” I pleaded, but his answer was to capture my mouth with his, roughly pressing his lips to mine, and I tasted the alcohol as his tongue thrust feverishly into my mouth. At that point, I knew that trying to reach him was pointless. The alcohol was controlling him, and there was nothing I could do but lay there helplessly while he molested my body.

His hot breath tickled my neck as his tongue traced a path down until his face was buried between my breasts. My low cut gown allowed him to easily push it down and out of his way, and soon, his mouth had attached itself to my nipple, eagerly sucking, stretching it tautly. Despite my horror at what was happening, my body was responding to his touch, and a moan involuntarily escaped my mouth as he attacked my nipples with his mouth and hands.

My back arched, pushing my breast further into his mouth, as his hand kneaded and pinched the other. “Stop it!” my mind cried to my body as it continued to respond to his touch, sparks of pleasure shooting through my core. “This isn’t right. He’s my father for goodness sake!” my mind screamed, but my body was only paying attention to the blissful sensations. It hadn’t been touched by a man in a long time, and finally getting the touch it had been craving awoke it with blazing passion.

His hand snaked between our bodies and rubbed my moistening slit through my panties. Tingles raced up my skin, and the delight of having my pussy fondled met the aching pleasure from the torture of my nipple. A protesting groan issued from me when his mouth left my nipple. Roughly, he pushed my gown up above my full breasts, baring my belly to his hungry mouth. A wet trail was left on my stomach as he kissed his way down, occasionally stopping to suck my creamy skin between his lips.

I writhed beneath him, desperately wanting him to hurry, to reach his destination. My pussy ached with anticipation of feeing his mouth clamping down hotly. My body had completely overridden my brain, and any thoughts of how indecent this was quickly got snuffed out of existence. A shiver rocked me as his tongue licked my mound above the waistband of my low riding panties. Dad’s hands grasped my ass and his fingers hooked the material of my panties, and he yanked them down forcefully.

Eyes filled with lust through an alcohol haze stared down at my bare pussy. “Naughty girl,” he chided gruffly as his large hands gripped my inner thighs and pushed my legs apart, spreading them as wide as the back of the couch would allow. His head bent down, and his tongue glided along my slit, teasing my puffy lips.

“Please,” I begged, no longer know if I was asking him to stop or to bury his face in my pussy.

His long fingers opened my lips, and laid my pussy open to his immoral gaze. I cried out when his tongue flicked my swelling clit, sending shards of heat through me. My legs splayed over his shoulders, and my heels dug into his back as he mercilessly sucked and licked my pussy. My body shuddered when his finger pushed forcibly into my wetness, setting off a small orgasm. A second finger joined the first, and I grabbed his hair between my clenching fingers as my hips frantically bucked against him, driving his fingers deep inside my tight pussy.

Possessed with wanton lust, I begged, “Fuck me, please. Fuck me with your thick cock!”

Dad wasted no time pushing his pants down past his hips and freeing his cock, which sprang proud and erect from a thick patch of hair. He bent down over me and plunged his cock deep inside my pussy with the first thrust. My legs wrapped around his waist and my heels dug into his ass, spurring him on. He brought his face towards mine, and as he ravished my mouth with his, I could smell his acrid breath mingled with the smell of our arousal that permeated the room.

As he put his weight on his knees, his rough hands firmly grasped my thighs and held my legs wide open. He furiously rammed his cock deep into my pussy, sending hot flames of desire shooting through my core. He pulled my legs up over his shoulders, and then he leaned towards me, bringing me knees to my chest. The position allowed the full length of cock to slam into my throbbing pussy, and I cried out when the swollen head hit my spongy cervix.

With each thrust, the bulbous head of his cock bumped my g-spot and sent intense hot shocks rushing through my body. The tension built to a powerful crescendo, and when his mouth roughly captured a nipple and viciously sucked it, I exploded. Waves of spasms wracked my body and my knees tightly clenched against the sides of his head. I screamed from the force of the orgasm ripping through my body. My pussy clamped down on his thick cock, the spasms flowing through it massaging his cock in a tight embrace. A guttural roar tore from his throat, and I felt hot splashes of cum against my cervix as he emptied himself into me, my clenching pussy milking every last drop from his twitching cock.

He rose off me and staggered drunkenly out of the room, and I could hear his boots clomping against the boards as he climbed the stairs. Dazed, I grabbed the quilt from the floor and pulled it over me, trying to cover my shame as its warmth enveloped my used body. I lay there for what seemed like an eternity, wrestling with a jumble of emotions. My Dad had just raped me… or at least, it had started out that way. My traitorous body had enjoyed what was happening, and within a few minutes, I had become a willing participant.

I knew that it would be impossible for me to face him in the morning, so I rose off the couch, letting my gown fall back into place. I didn’t even bother searching for the panties that had been tossed god knows where. Quietly climbing the stairs, I tip-toed into my bedroom and quickly packed my suitcase. I hoped that he was drunk enough he wouldn’t remember what had happened, and if he did, he wouldn’t know who it had been with.

**********
Rain fell from the darkened sky as if the heavens themselves were in mourning. I stood numbly by the casket, still in shock. The call had come Sunday afternoon. Dad had not shown up at his friend’s house and was not answering the phone. Worried, the friend had gone by the house and found Dad in the garage, dead by his own hand.

The hushed voice of the priest was almost drowned out by the drumming of the raindrops upon the umbrellas. It didn’t matter. Nothing could penetrate the closed vault that my mind had become. It was my fault that he was dead. I could have survived if the only incident had been what happened between us on that Saturday night, but losing my father dealt a crushing blow to my heart and soul, and I wasn’t so sure that I could keep standing under the humongous burden. Why didn’t I stay? Why did I run away like a dog with her tail between her legs? If I had been there to confront him Sunday morning and had given us the chance to work out what had happened, then I very likely wouldn’t be standing here in the pouring rain, my heels sinking into the mud while Dad lay lifeless in the casket a few steps away.

Guilt washed over me, deepening through my soul with each person that walked by and stopped to offer his condolences. Each sad smile felt like a spike driven into my heart, and each pat on the back felt like a stabbing knife. None of them suspected a thing. No one knew that a night of immoral passion had led to the undoing of a man that was loved and respected by all. Unable to withstand any more piteous looks, I turned and ran from the gravesite, not even noticing when my shoes were claimed by the sucking mud.

**********

I sat at my desk and stared at the envelope that I had found in my mailbox that morning. My name and school address was written in Dad’s looping handwriting. It was postmarked the day after his death. With trembling hands, I opened it and removed the folded sheets from within.

Daughter of my Heart,
It’s with a heart full of anguish that I sit down and write this letter. At first, I thought it had all been a dream. Then I saw the panties abandoned on the living room floor and knew that it had actually been a nightmare. Mere words cannot express the deep horror and sorrow felt at what I did to you. I know there is no reason or excuse that can ever hope to justify what happened between us, but I felt that you at least deserved an explanation of the feelings behind my demented actions. From your words and behavior, I know that you noticed the growing distance that I placed between us. Have you ever realized how much you look like your mother? I didn’t… before the last couple of years, anyway. I can tell you the exact moment that I stopped looking at you as my little girl and realized that you were a woman. I had come around the house, and I saw you sitting in the porch swing with your boyfriend. He leaned over and brushed your lips with his, and I saw you arch towards him, your body eager for his touch. Later that day, I looked at you… really looked at you. I was struck dumb by how much you looked like your mother. You could have been identical twins. As the days went by, my thoughts were often occupied by depraved thoughts of you. Because of this, I avoided you whenever possible. I know you were hurt and confused by my sudden change in behavior, but what could I do? I obviously couldn’t tell you that the reason I didn’t want to be near you was because I couldn’t trust myself not to tear off your clothes and ravish you on the spot. And that’s exactly what I wanted… what my body wanted. My dreams, both awake and asleep were filled with images of you… of your ripe young body… all intertwined with images of myself and your mother together in our bed. You look so much like her that the two of you melded together in my dreams. I would start out making love to her in my bed, but in the end, it would be your name that I called out when my release surged through my body. Even the small amount of time that we have spent together over the last couple of years has been torture for me. Every moment spent in your presence was a struggle for me to endure. Just seeing your beautiful face and body would stir things deep inside me and I would have to fight to keep control. Last night, when I came in and saw you sleeping under your mother’s quilt, I snapped. I was far enough gone with the alcohol that I didn’t have an ounce of control left. My dear sweet Gabby, please do not think my departure from this Earth was your fault. It was not. Last night was proof that I can no longer control myself when it comes to you. Flashes of your skin beneath mine, of your moans and the way your body responded to my touch would be forever burned in my brain. I cannot live any longer knowing that any time I see you, I will likely pounce, because the feel of your body beneath mine is like a drug, and with one partaking, I am addicted. Please do not feel guilt or shame at your body’s reaction last night. You fought for as long as you could stand before the sensations in your body overrode the rational part of you. I ask for your forgiveness, even though I know that it is not deserved. Please try to forget that night and go on with your life. You deserve a life filled with happiness and love. Forgive me, for what I have done, and what I am about to do.

I buried my head in my arms and wept. Hot tears burned my cheeks, tears for the loss of my Dad, who was more troubled than I had realized and who had taken his own life so that mine would be better, tears for everything that we had together that was now lost, and tears for my future, because I didn’t think it could be as bright without him in it, regardless of what had happened that fateful night between us.

 

[Black Tulip]

Hello twin,

I think we did it again! I will read your story after I have edited my own incest piece.

ROFLMAO

 

[Guest]

LOL!

 

[neonlyte]

Coo. Are we posting here, I submitted mine to Lit a couple of days ago, do you want it here as well?

Will read and respond CM.

NL

 

[Guest]

It's up to you. I always post mine here first, and then I send it off to my editor. Once it goes through that process, then it's submitted to Lit.

 

[Black Tulip]

The same goes for me. I post here first, alter according to the comments I get and then send it off to my editor before submitting it. Sometimes I decide against submitting. Not everything is good enough right away.

Ok, here is my piece of incest. I wanted to write something really gross to me, so I went for a father-daughter thing. It turned out a bit different. Hey, that sometimes happen.

Comforting Bubbles

"Bubbles? Are you home? Bubbles?"

With a sigh Bubbles swung her legs down to the floor and straightened her clothes as she went to the door. She had long ago given up any hope of being called Betty. Nobody ever did.

"Bubbles?"

So much for a little time to herself. Ever since her mother packed her bags and left them about a year ago, she had been trying to keep things going but it was getting kind of hard lately. Her father and her brothers all seemed to take it for granted that she kept the house clean and did the laundry. Hell, they had even expected her to fix them dinner every day. She had drawn the line at that though. They were all adults and all able to cook dinner and she did have a life of her own.

Grumbling under her breath Bubbles went in answer to her fathers yelling. There was not much left of her own life. They had moved to this town shortly after her mother had left them, she had just started at college and she didn't know many people yet and to top it all off, Ricky had said goodbye this afternoon. She was not really sorry to see him go, if she was totally honest though. He had been her boyfriend for the last year, but he still was the same gangling skinny boy he had been at eighteen and he always acted as if he were afraid of her family.

She grinned at her dad when she entered the kitchen. "Hi dad, what's up?"

He turned around and smiled at his daughter, a small nineteen year old with curves in all the right places and short blond curls. Ever since she was a little girl he had called her Bubbles because of her lively personality and the name had stuck.

"Nothing, just wanted to know if you were in. It's my turn tonight, isn't it?" He made a gesture towards the stove and when she nodded he headed towards the fridge. "Fancy anything in particular?"

"No. Uh, yes, I do. Can you make chocolate mousse for dessert? Please?"

"Chocolate mouse huh? What happened? Need some consolation?"

The big man eyed his daughter with a bit more care this time. He saw a sad look pass over her face so he stepped to her side and wrapped his arms around her. "Come here, baby. Can I make it better?"

He stroked her silky hair and inhaled the fresh, flowery scent she always wore, secretly enjoying the feel of her firm breasts against his chest. He knew he shouldn't hug her like this, but he liked it so much and she didn't seem to mind. In fact she hugged him back as she shook her head.

"No, daddy, I don't think so. Ricky and I broke up. No big deal really, but still..." She sighed and rested her head against the firm male body that gave her such a safe feeling.

He gave her a soft kiss on the mouth, just touching lips and gave her a pat on her bottom before releasing her. "I'm sorry sweetheart, but he was not right for you. You know that, don't you?"

Bubbles lifted her shoulders and sat down at the big oak table, resting her elbows on the top as she watched her father checking the cupboards. She knew her girlfriends in their old neighborhood had thought Frank a hunk. Most of the time he wore a T-shirt and jeans, displaying a big, muscled frame and a broad face under a mop of dark hair. She had his blue eyes, with the same sparkle, just like her brothers.

"... be all right?"

"Sorry dad, what did you say?" Bubbles had been dreaming with her eyes open and her father's voice snapped her back in the present.

"I said I had to go to the shops if you want chocolate mousse. Will you be all right?" He looked at her with concern on his face.

She nodded and gave him a warm smile. "Sure, go on. I'll be fine, honest." She wiggled her butt on the chair, thinking it was a good thing he couldn't read her mind.

As soon as Frank was out of the door, she jumped up and stretched her arms above her head. She knew exactly how to celebrate her new state of single girl. Ricky had always been trying to get into her panties, but she hadn't allowed him more than some feeling and fingering. Hah, he would never get the chance to see all of her, let alone enjoy her body. Her hands cupped her breasts and she felt her nipples hardening through the soft material of her blue top.

She hesitated for only a moment and looked out the window. The kitchen was at the back of the house so of course she didn't see any one. She had the house to herself for now. Her father was out shopping and both her brothers were at work.

With a broad grin on her face, Bubbles headed for the rooms of her brothers. She was not sure of Tom, but Jake certainly had dirty magazines, she knew he had. If she was careful she could easily pinch one without him noticing, she had done it before. The only thing was, he had moved his stack to another place, but she had time enough to find them.

"There you go. I knew it." Satisfied that she had found the hidden treasure Bubbles dumped the pile on the bed and sat down to pick one out.

Mumbling under her breath Bubbles sifted through the magazines, searching for stories. The photos were not very appealing to her and she started to toss one after the other to the side. Damn, that was stupid. She didn't know if Jake paid attention to the way they had been stacked. With a sigh she tried to remember what the pile had looked like before she attacked it, meanwhile reading snippets here and there.

She was almost done when she hit the jackpot; nearly at the bottom she found two magazines filled with stories. Curious to see what she had found she opened the first one to look at the index. Bubbles felt her eyebrows raise up as her mouth fell open. "My sister, my lover? Daddy's little girl? His mother loves him?"

The titles were perhaps not very original, but they made the blood rush to her face. Was Jake getting off on incest stories? She flipped the other magazine open and her breath caught in her throat for a moment. She looked at a story with photos; actually very bad quality but something about them held her attention. A mother and a daughter were being fucked, and...

Bubbles was reading the story with a feverish blush on her face and before long her hands were roaming over her body. She wore no bra and the feel of her top rubbing her nipples was exciting, just as her fingers teasing her pussy through the thin panties. Shit, she shouldn't be doing that, not here, on Jake's bed.

The soft click of the door made her jump out of her skin. One hand still under her skirt she turned shocked eyes to the door. She tried to say something, bluff her way out, but the look on Jake's face made the words die in her throat. He had the same build as their father, big and broad, and his blue eyes were almost burning holes in her clothes as he stepped away from the door.

"So, it is you. I thought so, but I wasn't sure." He swallowed hard and his eyes drifted down to her nipples that stood out in the soft blue top. "Do you..." His voice cracked a bit. "Do you do that often?" He pointed to where her hand still rested under her skirt.

"Masturbating?" Bubbles sighed in relief as she realized Jake was turned on. He wouldn't tell on her. "Yes, you?"

Jake nodded and shrugged with his eyes still glued to her skirt. "Why on my bed?"

Bubbles giggled. "That was an accident. I wanted to steal one of your magazines, but I got ah ... carried away."

She tried to shove the incest story under the rest of the pile, but Jake was too quick. He grabbed it and looked at her high color after he saw what she had been reading. Very slowly a broad grin crept over his face and while he kept holding her eyes with his gaze, he bent over a little and let one hand trail from her throat to her breast, touching her with feather-light fingers.

"That turns you on, huh? Me too." His fingers followed the neckline of her top, caressing the skin at the top of her breasts. "Can I watch?"

Bubbles nearly choked. "What do you mean? Watch?" She tried to move away from his fingers, but he only followed her on the bed. "You're nuts."

Jake grinned and nodded. "Yep, totally, about your hot body."

He suddenly lowered his hand and pinched her nipple. He laughed softly at her gasp.

"You liked that. Come on Bubbles, let me watch."

He now had two hands at her breasts, massaging her nipples with his palms. When he grasped them between his fingers she jerked back and slapped at his hands. His face wore a confident smile as he leaned back on his elbows, taking in her flushed face and heaving breasts.

"I promise to keep my hands to myself." With that he laughed and rubbed his cocked through his jeans.

The gesture drew her eyes to his crotch and Bubbles sighed a soft oh at the sight of the impressive bulge. "We can't do that. You're my brother."

"Yea, so? You're my sister, but I still like to look at you."

"What do you mean?" Something in his voice alerted her. "Have you been spying on me? Have you?"

Jake said nothing; he only moved his eyebrows up and down and licked his lips suggestively.

"You haven't! When? Have you...?"

Bubbles felt the blood rush to her face. She was shocked, but mostly at the way her body reacted to all this. The thought that her big brother had been spying on her, maybe even watched her pleasuring herself was turning her on in a big way. For a moment she closed her eyes, trying to get her feelings under control again.

"Yes, I have and I want to watch you now. Do it, or I'll tell dad what you were doing in my room." He shifted his weight. "Go on, you're horny as hell."

For a second Bubbles tried to resist but the look in Jake's eyes was too much. "Ok, but no touching. Oh, and you too. I want to see too."

Jake nodded and Bubbles got up from the bed. Suddenly she didn't care any more if it was right or not, she was so damned horny, she had to act on it. The skirt drifted to the floor and she looked at Jake for a moment before she slowly pushed her panties down her legs, exposing the blond triangle between her legs to his hungry eyes. She felt utterly whorish as she stood in front of her brother. Her breasts covered but her moistening pussy bare to his gaze. Her thighs clenched with the pleasure of it all before she found a spot near the head of the bed, resting her back against the wall.

Her brother licked his lips again as he gazed at her golden legs, willing her to spread them for him, but she didn't. She nodded to him and he understood. It was his turn and he quickly got rid of his shirt, followed by his jeans, relieved to give his cock room. He grinned at her surprised expression when she realized he wore no underwear. As she gazed at his erection he felt his cock jump a little. God, this was really hot.

He sat cross-legged on the bed, giving his sister a clear view of his still growing erection. Very slowly his hand reached between his legs, grasped his cock and started stroking the hot hard flesh. He sighed audibly when Bubbles raised her knees and finally spread her legs, showing him blood-filled folds glistening with moisture. He swallowed hard as she started rubbing her clit, spreading her juices in the process.

Hardly aware of what he was doing, Jake's eyes followed her fingers as she spread her lips and pushed two fingers inside, his hand pumping his cock in rhythm with his sister's movements. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was slightly opened, almost as inviting as her slick and hungry pussy. Jake knew he was nearly drooling but he couldn't help it. Bubbles was so sexy and it was nearly impossible to keep his hands to himself as he had promised.

She started moaning softly as her fingers moved faster and faster. "Oh Jake, you're making me so hot. God, I love you watching me. Do you see how hot and wet you're making me?"

To his surprise she removed her fingers from her pussy, spread her legs even further and lifted her hips, clearly wanting him to look at her. She opened her eyes and he saw the lust glazed look in them as she moved her hips in small circles.

"Will you make me cum? Please? Will you touch me?"

Bubbles was so excited she needed something more than her own fingers. She ached to be filled, to be stretched by something male. At the back of her mind she was still shocked, amazed at what was happening, but right now her body had taken over. She had never felt like this with Ricky and she finally got an idea why some girls went all the way.

"Jake? Please?"

"Are you sure? God, I'd love to touch you."

Jake thought his heart would burst from the heavy pumping it was doing as he reached out. He kneeled between Bubbles' legs and his hands hesitantly stroked the inside of her thighs, pressing them softly down and open. His cock stood painfully up against his belly, but he was determined to make his sister cum first. This was so special.

"You're so soft. I love the feel of your skin."

His hands moved higher till his fingers touched her wet lips. Her hips bucked at the contact and he heard her moaning a bit. Jake closed his eyes for a moment, unable to take it all in. Here he was fingering his sister till she was moaning in pleasure. Suddenly he could not hold himself back any more. He pushed a thick finger up her hot slit and started rotating inside her. At the same time he bent over and licked at her clit, making appreciative sounds at the taste of her. His free hand glided up her belly and pushed her top up till he found a breast and his fingers started caressing the stiff nipple.

He could feel her body starting to move from the inside and he pushed his finger in as far as it would go. "Go on, cum for me." He licked and sucked her clit, wanting her to explode under his mouth and his fingers. His movements got almost furious till she started to pant with small, strangled moans, her hips moving against him. Her legs quivered and she stood for a moment in an arch, her pelvis off the bed, making mewling sounds.

Jake kept licking her softly till she opened her eyes, one hand rubbing her breasts, the other stroking his hot cock. Her hands landed on his head, stroking his hair and then she pulled his head up.

"Your turn."

Jake felt the blood rush to his face, then down to his cock, making him heavy beyond belief. "Are you serious?"

Bubbles nodded and turned on the bed, her legs near the head and her face near his crotch. She looked up at him from under her lashes and smiled a bit unsure. "You earned it. That was terrific. But I ... uh, I've never done this before."

"What do you mean? You never gave a blowjob before?"

Bubbles shifted a bit uncomfortable. She felt a bit like a baby because she never had. "No, do you mind?"

"Sweetie, you'll do just fine. Go on, touch him. He would like a kiss, you know." He grinned reassuringly, doing his best not to rush her.

"He's gorgeous. He really is."

Jake bit his lip as Bubbles grasped his cock and let the head stroke her cheek, clearly enjoying the feel of the velvet shaft against her skin. She kissed the tip and gave a tiny lick with the tip of her tongue. Next she stroked the full length with her fingers, tickling the underside before she cupped his balls in her hand.

"Am I doing it right?"

Jake grabbed her blond curls and pushed her head gently down. "You're doing great. Just keep going." His voice was down to a low groaning as he held back his urge to fuck her mouth.

He sighed when she took him finally into her mouth. He had believed her when she said she had never done this before, but she was obviously enjoying it. After the first tentative touches and licks, she now sucked and licked his erection as if he was a giant lollipop. Maybe not very sophisticated, but god, he loved it.

With his hands still buried in her hair, he guided her head in an ever-faster tempo, looking at her bent figure with the naked ass sticking out. Her blue top was twisted above her breasts and they gently swayed with her movements, brushing against his thighs. He groaned again. The sight of his sister sucking his dick was so arousing that he felt shivers running up and down his spine.

"I'm gonna cum. Want to swallow?"

"Uhuh." Bubbles kept his cock in her mouth, wanting to make him shoot. The thought that she was responsible for that big fat cock spurting semen was exciting and she was determined not to miss a drop.

Jake started moving his hips, no longer able to hold back. When he looked at her ass again the memory of him licking her pussy drove him over the edge. With a long low growl, he shot his cum down her throat, making her swallow like crazy. It was too much for her and when she looked up he saw a small rivulet trickle down her chin.

"Jesus, Bubbles. That was fuckalicious." His fingers caressed her face while she licked his cock clean.

"Jake! Bubbles! Are you coming?"

Brother and sister sat bolt upright on the bed, looking at each other with big round eyes. Then Bubbles collapsed in a heap of giggles. "I thought for a minute he meant cumming."

"Me too." Jake grinned and couldn't resist a quick tickle between her legs. "Coming dad", he shouted as he crawled from the bed.

"Stop it. You don't want dad to find out, do you?" Bubbles batted at his hands, grabbed her clothes and headed to the bathroom the three kids shared.

"Bubbles? Are you home? Dinner is ready in ten!"

"Just a minute dad!"

Frank looked at his daughter with a small frown on his face. Tom was not home yet, but Jake and Bubbles usually made enough noise for three. Tonight they were very quiet though. "You all right baby?" He wondered if she was running a temperature. She had such a high color.

He put the dishes in the sink and set a big bowl of chocolate mousse on the table. "Here you go." He grinned at her greedy face. "Don't indulge yourself too much."

"Dad's right you know." Jake looked at his sister with a funny look on his face. "You shouldn't swallow it all."

Frank lifted his eyebrows. Kids! He hadn't a clue why Bubbles was suddenly choking with laughter, but he was glad she seemed back to her old self again.


Feel free to hack it to pieces.

CM, I'll return that favor later today. LOL

 

[neonlyte]

OK. This is a lesbian story, my first.

In the early grey light of dawn, my eyes travelled over her as she slept, wispy strands of hair matted to her cheek, a damp spot on the pillow, saliva of slumber, freckled shoulders naked as the breaking day. There will be no turning back; last night, hands held, we crossed a bridge, felt its heat as it burnt in the darkness of the night lighting our future.

I felt I had known her for years; in a silly way that was true, though it paled beside the truth she uncovered of herself, and me.

We take the same train into the city; have done so for many years, eight, possibly nine. Over that time we have lined up on the platform with the rest of the cattle, squeezed into the generally late train, rejoiced at the rarity of finding a seat and tried to ensure the decorous parts of our anatomy are steered away from prying hands and eyes. In the true English tradition, each traveller erects their personal barricade, pretended the others are elsewhere. Books and magazines the favourite refuge, newspapers having long since become unmanageable in the confines of our transport.

Travelling is an essential chore, unless of course one is lucky enough not to need the income, or by some bizarre stroke of good fortune, find rewarding employment, financial and cerebral, within driving distance of home. It takes years to be on even nodding terms with ones fellow passengers, talking generally is frowned upon, except of course on the mobile, I swear, if I hear ‘I’m on the train’ one more time I’ll rip the damn thing from their hands. What happened to the plan for mobile free carriages? Probably went down the same track as punctuality, why do we accept it, this daily ritual of torment. Summer is worst, why cannot men change their clothes occasionally, don’t they have wives? They wear the same piss stained trousers day in day out, ‘Hey guys, just because they’re dark it doesn’t mean their not dirty, dicks drip, urine smells, and I fed up with you thrusting your urine stinking trousers in my face.’ I’m sorry, I’m ranting, got carried away; honestly, you should try it sometime, then you would know what I’m talking about.

We got onto speaking terms when her carrier bag broke and spilled its contents onto the wet platform. It was Manga or another of those new stores, nice bag, crappy handles, takes something major like that to break the ice. The men ignored her, smirked, and turned their heads. She probably intimidates them, always impeccable with a slight 70’s air about her style, flowing tweeds skirts in the winter, calve length dresses in the summer, can never recall her wearing trousers. Ever the practical one, I whipped out my ‘just in case bag’ and passed it to her.

“Here, let me help, you can use this.”

“No it’s ok, I’ll be able… are you sure? That really is very sweet of you. I’ll let you have it back tomorrow.”

That was four years ago, since then we have exchanged smiles, said the odd word about the bloody English weather, cursed the latest cancellation, and looked.

Our eyes would meet at the oddest moments, through the hole formed by an arm thrust into a jacket pocket, across the shoulder of a suit intent on the latest Tom Clancy, brief glimpses often averted as quick as they formed. Sometimes, I could feel her eyes upon me and I would search her out through the twisted contortion of limbs and bodies, she would hold contact for the briefest second before looking away, turning to stare out of the window, tempting me with her profile, the faintest blush on her cheek.

I never saw her around the town where we both lived; possibly, she did not live in my town, simply drove in to the nearest station. I rarely saw her on my evening journey home, work always started at nine, seldom finished at five.

Was it was impulse that drove me, or a seething fury at being stood up once again. It had planned weeks ago, theatre tickets, restaurant booked; he called to say he wouldn’t be able to get back in time. I don’t recall the precise phrasing of the latest excuse; I had long since stopped listening. He had become so proficient at trotting them out; I really don’t think he felt any shame at all. In truth, our marriage had finished long ago, we rushed in, swept on a wave of passion, and when we paused for breathe, found there was more to dislike than love could conquer. We went through the motions bound together by the bricks and mortar of our mortgage. We both knew that the recovering property market had made possible our escape, it couldn’t be long now, each wanted the other to take the first step.

Exactly when my plan formulated itself I couldn’t say for sure. I was on the platform early, nervously looking around, waiting for her arrival. She swept onto the platform wearing a leaf green silk dress that giddily danced around her legs, as fresh and bright as the June morning. I smiled in her direction, noting the stares that followed her across to where I stood.

“Beautiful day,” She said, aware of the effect her dress was having, “I thought the sun deserved my thanks.”

“Well you have certainly achieved that.” I replied, she smiled and blushed in the inimitable way that I had come to savour.

Watching the approaching train, I knew it was now or never. “I hope you don’t misread this, (why did I say that!) I have a spare ticket for the theatre tonight my partner had to cancel at the last minute, (why did I say partner? She must have seen my wedding ring, know I’m married) would you like to join me?”

She turned her face to me, no hiding the blushes now, and said, “That would be wonderful. What are we seeing?”

“Titus Andronicus, at the National,” I could see her slight frown, “maybe you should have asked what the play was first.”

That was all it took and we dissolved into laughter.

She took my hand, “I’m Jenny, and you are?”

“Claire. Look the trains here, you know how it is, let’s meet on the Lyttelton balcony, I’ll be there from seven.”

It was one of those journeys where we barely caught a glimpse of one another, Jenny (I feel strange using her name) always got out at Waterloo while I travelled on the Charing Cross, she waved to me from the platform as we parted.

I had no time to think during the day, my secretary, true to form, had decided Friday would be a ‘sicky’, hopefully her upset tummy wouldn’t interfere too much with her long week-end, time for her to move on.

At six, I was still playing catch up, decided enough was enough, and took myself off to the loo to freshen, only then did I start to think about the evening ahead and discover just how much l was looking forward to spending some time with Jenny. What would she be like? How would we react to each other? Now, I couldn’t stop thinking about her eyes, our exchanged glances, blushes, unsure how to read the little information I had gleaned across the years. Unsure of what I was expecting, or even hoping from our meeting.

She was there when I arrived shortly before seven, even with the numbers filling the theatre she stood out, the brilliant green of her dress bright amongst the generally drab garb of the theatre crowd. She waved at me as I moved across the foyer to the staircase, mouthing something drowned in the noise of the ‘Foyer Jazz’ filling the space. I climbed to meet her, mouth dry, clammy hands sticking on the stainless steel handrail. As I turned at the top of the stairs to face her, I saw she guarded a table, securing a place where we could sit and begin the journey of discovery. As I reached her, she leaned to me and kissed my cheek like an old friend, I caught a trace of her perfume something from Guerlian, Shalimar perhaps, its heady fragrance complementing the lightness of her dress.

“Hi Claire, you found me! Look at all these people. I got you a drink, G&T is that ok.”

“It’s perfect, just what I need (it might calm me down). Could hardly miss you in that dress, you shine like a beacon.”

“I know, it’s a bit wild at my age. When I raised the blinds and saw the sun this morning I just knew it was the day for this dress. Didn’t realise I’d be going on a date in it.” (A date? Is that how she regards this?) “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

“Well cheers.” I said, taking my glass.

We toasted each other. I took a long slurp of my drink feeling the need to push alcohol into my system, forgetting for the moment that I hadn’t eaten all day.

“Wow, you look like you needed that, been one of those days?” she asked.

“Yes, my secretary threw a ‘sicky’, just what I needed at the end of the week. I work in PR, the company schedules Friday as ‘office work’, no clients, and no meetings, just push the paper and schedule the weeks ahead. It is generally a good system but it does give the lazy ones a heads up as to which day to miss. I had better go easy on the drink, I haven’t eaten all day.”

“I could go and get us something to eat from the buffet, what time does the play start?”

“Seven thirty, it’s a long play. I don’t really think we would have time, there is bound to be a queue, there always is. In any case, I didn’t have time to tell you, there is a table booked for the Olivier restaurant after the play. My husband’s treat.”

I looked at her face for any hint of a reaction but saw none and immediately wondered what I had expected.

“You are married then, I saw the ring and wondered if you just, you know, sort of wear it, some women do.”

“Barely. It won’t last much longer.” (Why am I telling her this?) “Tonight’s stunt might be the final straw.”

“Ah.”

(Just what sort of an ‘Ah’ was that, Ah, I’m glad, Ah, here’s trouble?)

“Once the passion cooled, we discovered we didn’t like each other. Simple really.”

“But you still live with him.”

“Yes, mostly the house thing, we have pretty much separate lives but I demand we go through the ritual of social intercourse from time to time, hence tonight, theatre and dinner. Time to clean the nest.”

“Emm. Never fancied it myself never found one that had grown up enough. Hey ho, I sometimes wonder what I’m missing.”

“Not a lot, unless of course you like washing, ironing and cooking.”

She laughed, eyes twinkling, and said, “Oh, I thought there was more to it than that.”

“You mean S E X? Well, that’s fun, but when the fun’s gone, you have to make your own amusement.”

“Yes, I do know what you mean.”

We looked at each other, looking for something beyond the tease, she brought her glass to her mouth, kissed the rim with her lips, smiling at me all the while and sipped.

“Tell me about Titus. Are you a Shakespeare nut?” she asked.

“I like Shakespeare and the National productions are pretty good, but the game was to see if I could get the bugger to sit in one place for three hours, I think he saw through my plan.”

“Claire, why are you trying? It sound’s like the game’s finished.”

“I suppose you never want to admit defeat to yourself, you keep pretending… I don’t know, maybe it is just a stasis until something else comes along.”

I could hear the announcement that we should take our seats, people milling toward the entrances, and waited for her reply.

“Emm, stasis is quite wrong, for you, for each of us, unless served with a heavy helping of contentment. Come on drink up. Let’s go eat, do you more good than wading through Titus Andronicus for three hours wondering why I’m with you.”

I felt myself blush, an event comparatively unknown since childhood, and drained my drink.

“What about the tickets?”

“There is a young couple down there at the returns desk, can you see, the girl with the red cardigan, let’s make them happy.”

#

“That was lovely, her face was a picture. I love making people smile.”

We walked along the riverbank, the cool evening air cleansing the sticky atmosphere of the theatre. She took my arm. “There is an Italian restaurant, Arch Duke, it’s half way to the station, not so far to stagger. What do you say?”

“Sound’s good, I really am hungry the more I think about it.”

The meal passed in moments, we shared jobs, families, birth signs, food, a few hopes, and fears. It was still reasonably early, we lingered over the remainder of the wine, neither sure where to lead.

“Thank you.” I said, “This has been wonderful, you seemed to know just what I needed.”

“My absolute pleasure; it has been reward enough to watch the tension drain from your face, you are beginning to look like you used to.”

“What do you mean?”

“Just that over the years, I have watched the strain grow, your eyes sparkle, but your face cannot hide the lie you have been living.”

“Am I that transparent?”

“To me, yes. Now, lets pay the bill and walk down to London Bridge, catch the train there, walk off all this food we’ve eaten.”

This time, I took her arm resting my fingers on the soft skin above her wrist aware of her moving trapping my hand against the silk covering her hip. There was no need to speak, we had found a new way to communicate, it was enough, for the moment.

Near the Globe Theatre, I felt her shiver.

“Cold?”

“It’s cooler than I thought, I should have brought a coat.”

“Ah, but you didn’t know you were being kidnapped for the night. (What am I saying, I must sound like a schoolgirl) Here, lets put my wrap round both of us.”

I took one arm out of the long woollen wrap and Jenny pulled it across her shoulders working her arm into the sleeve, arms crossed backs finding a resting place above the hip pulling one to another so we could walk in unison. As she moved, I could feel her ribcage pushing against the heel of my hand sliding my fingers across the silk covering of her hip.

“Better?”

“Much, I was beginning to chill.”

I squeezed her hip and stumbled slightly straightening to find her fingertips on my skin beneath my blouse, my body trembled involuntarily, goose bumps prickling my skin as she tapped out a tune with the tips of her fingers as if playing my skin for a flute.

And so we walked and explored, chuckling together, content at our mutual discovery and freed of the shackles of responsibility. In the train, we snuggled close pretending the coolness of the night invaded us still. After Bromley, we had the carriage to ourselves and she kissed me, gently seeking my approval before urgency caught our breath and our bodies took up the refrain. I wanted to touch her, feel her skin warm against mine, silently screamed as her hand brushed my stomach, needing more, shocked at my lust.

We left the platform at Petts Wood, fingers intertwined, almost running to her car. My nails tracing the ridges of her spine through the silk as she stooped to unlock car for me; as my fingers reached the swell of her buttock, she turned, taking my face in her hands and kissed me again, tongue tip probing, teeth nibbling at my lower lip as I guided her hips onto mine and we settled for the heat of the other.

In the car, my hands sought her, gradually raising her dress until I found skin, she took my hand moving it across her abdomen, pressing it down into the soft valley of her thighs breath catching as she struggled to control the sensations of my investigative fingers. Her legs trembled to make room for my hand, hips edged forward for me to dip beneath the fabric of her panties touching her dampness, feeling mine. How she managed to drive while rocking herself against my fingers escapes me, she pulled onto her driveway wrenching the car to a halt, pushed back her seat and opened her self for my touch stroking my head where it lay on her tummy, twisting her fingers through my hair.

Satisfied for the moment, she whispered, “Let’s go in.” but stay spread while my fingers soothed her palpitations. Finally I stopped, wanting the greater things awaiting each of us and followed her into her home. In the hallway she turned to me, backing me into the wall and kissed me with a force no man had mustered, sliding her body against mine, fucking with my desire; her hands held mine spread against the wall in surrender and I whimpered as her lips moved to my neck inflaming my need as she planted kisses down onto my shoulder nibbling at my skin, knowing where to touch.

“Undress me.”

She took my hand and led me up the stairs where I fell to her bed shaking with fear and desire. She reached under her dress, removed her panties, and crouched beside me, knees parted with her dress bunched over her thighs.

Her hair fell over my face as she leaned into me planting kisses on my eyes, my nose, mouth and then renewed her attack on my neck and ears. How did she know? What told her where I wanted her kisses? Slowly she unbuttoned by blouse exploring each new area of skin with her lips. I raised my shoulders so she could unsnap the clasp of my bra and let her help me out of my blouse. I was ashamed of my breasts, sagging already, they had never been what you could describe as ‘pert’ and involuntarily brought my arms across my chest only to feel her push them aware moving in to nuzzle and graze, delighting in the stiffening nipples caught between her lips.

She raised herself and moved to unhook the side fastening on my skirt, slide the zip and removed my skirt, tights, and panties in one move. I have never felt so naked under any ones eyes and felt the relief as she slipped out of her own dress and bra and lay across my body; just to feel her skin on mine was enough, my hips raised to find the pressure of hers and bring my climax.

What followed was hours of exquisite torture and pleasure, finding each other’s rhythms, pleasure centres, and taste. I could have died then and been content, never did I imagine it could be like this. I couldn’t keep my hands, and eventually my mouth, from the sweet wetness between her legs, wanting to pry, unfold, and seek the secret that gave me such intense pleasure.

I tried to keep track of who was following, who was leading, seeking the stereotype of fiction, my head pushed away the other lie, that what we are doing is wrong and I surrendered to her caresses with gratitude, discovering more of my body, my souls’ needs and desires than in all of my former thirty odd years.

It is a mutual discovery, everything a first for each of us; she had always known she would give herself like this, for me a dream come true, someone to share, completely, everything.

Later, exhausted, swollen, sore from mutual ministrations, we fall to sleep wrapped in arms and legs as if it was always thus.

In the early grey light of dawn, my eyes travelled over her as she slept, wispy strands of hair matted to her cheek, a damp spot on the pillow, saliva of slumber, freckled shoulders naked as the breaking day. There will be no turning back; last night, hands held, we crossed a bridge, felt the heat as it burnt in the darkness of the night lighting our future.

Your comments will be most welcome.

NL

 

[Guest]

BT, your story was good. You seemed to capture the scene well and the little joke at the end was a good addition. I did notice some grammar problems, but I am sure those would be cleared up before you submitted.

NL,

I also noticed a few grammar/typo problems in yours. I think, too, that you go a little overboard in explaining things (like the secretary for example). It was a nice story, but it left me wanting, though I am not sure why. I think there needs to be more development between the two characters. I just didn't really feel their attraction to each other, nor did the urgency of their desire really come across very well. I don't know, maybe it's just me. Also, there were a couple of places where I wasn't sure who was talking. I think it has the potential to be a good story. I just think it needs a bit of fleshing out.

 

[mismused]

OK. This is a lesbian story, my first.

Your comments will be most welcome.

NL

=============================

Hi,

I had time, and looking around, found this story. I'm not a real critic of any kind, but I do know what I like, and your writing is marvelous.

Whatever the parameters are for this thread, whether you hit them or missed them, there is no denying your talent. I loved most of the story line, but particularly the way you phrase what you say, your style.

mismused

 

[neonlyte]

=============================
I had time, and looking around, found this story. I'm not a real critic of any kind, but I do know what I like, and your writing is marvelous.

Whatever the parameters are for this thread, whether you hit them or missed them, there is no denying your talent. I loved most of the story line, but particularly the way you phrase what you say, your style.

mismused
Quoting your post is one of the few perks allowed on this site so I make no excuse for my repeating your comments.

My sincere thanks, it means a lot to all writers to receive praise.

Challenge Club is open to any Lit member, we take turns to post a challenge to other members to write a story containing specific elements or theme; this challenge was to write a theme you had not previously tackled.

You are more than welocme to join CC, in is a useful place to develop and experiment with writing styles, that is what I choose to do through CC, other members will provide critiques of your work.

NL

Crimson
The biggest relief is that you accepted they were two females, I suppose that was the task set for myself. I admit the secretary was added to pass me from one end of the day to the next, the story is told through Claire, I thought it too big a step to go from the train in the morning to the theatre in the evening. Yes it could have had more padding but at 3k words I wanted to bring it to a conclusion. The submitted story carries a warning not to read if you want explicit sexual detail! It is a phase I am going through.

I have read yours once, I want to reread before commenting and will read BT's too.

NL

 

[Guest]

I can understand wanting to get done with a story. I do that often.

I actually don't think it needs padding.. Padding to me is extra stuff thrown in. I just meant that I think both of the women need their characters developed a bit more. I had a hard time relating to either. I guess what I am trying to say is they didn't seem real enough, but then again, it could just be me.

 

[Black Tulip]

CM,

I think you need to look at the first paragraph, some sentences there were a bit bumpy. Apart from the occasional typo/grammar slip up it was a nice read.

Nah, more than nice. It most certainly is a different ending. I'm not sure how a true incest lover will receive it, but I think you did a beautiful job.

If you tone down the sex a bit, I think you have a great non-Lit story. Uh, that is meant as a compliment.

The end was leaving me sad, well done.

Neonlyte,

I enjoyed your story despite the typo's. LOL
You do need to check for grammatical errors too.

I liked the circle you made with beginning and end.

What I missed was a hint that the 'I' was maybe bi or at least curious. If loving another woman was a surprise to her, I think she would have felt more hesitation, uncertainty or something. If on the other hand, she has been fantasizing about it, that would explain her diving into it better.

Just my opinion.

 

[neonlyte]

BT
I just had a look through following CM's comments, spotted a couple of typo's and corrected them.

On reflection, I think I was so much concentrating on writing the role of two females that I forgot some of the basics of the story structure. I think I could easily double the story, I used 'padding' before in reply to CM, it is character development that is missing, your right, her attitudes to the woman need further development to make the story complete.

I think I might pull it and work in another chapter before it goes through the submission process.

Thanks for your comments, will do yours later.

NL

 

[mismused]

BT

I think I might pull it and work in another chapter before it goes through the submission process.

Thanks for your comments, will do yours later.

NL

=============================

With the writing style you have, some enrichment will probably make for a very nice story. Good luck, though you probably don't need it, with your talent.

m

 

[neonlyte]

CM
A very enjoyable read all told with the bitter sweet ending that I think incest needs otherwise, in my view, it is just another sex story with man and woman changed to Father and Daughter. Now I know why you were asking about alcohol.

BT has already made the points I would make, bar one 'fuck me with your thick cock', it made me laugh, twice. I'm sorry, but there it is.

mismused
Please say you will join the next challenge, probably starting next week. Just pop back and check for the theme, more writers needed.

NL