think I can write, but 1st attempt at erotic fiction, so...

DYB156

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May 13, 2009
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Any help from an experienced editor is appreciated.

I'm on about page 30 in word, and mostly done with chapter 2. Truly not trying to toot my own horn here, but I know it's not bad writing, just not sure about this format. It's definitely more involved than many of the stories I've read here.

I have an extensive outline of how the chapters will be completing the story arch, but before I get too far, I'm wondering if this is going to be something just for my personal enjoyment or if it might have broader appeal as well. Basically:
Is it hot?
Is it too kinky?
Do I get too bogged down in the descriptions/plot and need to cut some out to get to the, well... the good stuff?
What category would be best? (I'm thinking novella, but not sure.)

synopsis: young man works with his "aunt" on a pharmaceutical company study involving the design and administration of a new fertility drug. It will eventually involve lots of sorority girls coming in to take down their pants and get a shot of a drug that will mimic the hormone mix found in women during the time of ovulation. (This will make them horny.) But not there yet, just build-up and sex so far.

themes:
younger man/older woman
"incest" of the kissing-cousin variety
medical (specifically shots - I bet this is a fetish with limited appeal)
spanking
exhibitionism/humiliation
good old fashioned sex too

Never posted a story here, much less used a volunteer editor... how does this work? I'm guessing that if you're interested, you pm me with your email address and then I send it to you? Or do I need to PM folks who might express an interest by replying to this thread?

Please just let me know, and thanks in advance.
 
Okay, since posting, I read the sticky where it said a good idea was to include the first 500 words or so... it's probably more than 500 words, but here's a teaser.

Hit Me with Your Best Shot
Chapter 1

"Country Roads, take me home, to the place, I beloooong, West Virginia..." that song kept going through my head as I headed west out of DC in my Dodge Caliber (a truly ugly company car). Traffic was terrible, but eventually got better. I couldn't imagine driving this every day. Why would you live so far west of where you worked, the sun in your eyes both coming and going?

I frankly had higher expectations for heaven than this. Almost... not quite. Nice subdivisions gave way to trailer parks then a roadhouse, then more trailer parks.

But the sun soon set behind the tree line. The state road became winding and turned hilly. The Mapquest printout sat in the passenger seat on top of my tie and jacket. I soon found my turn. The houses were now widely separated and had horse barns, surrounded by hillside pastures. A couple more turns, then backing up as it was now difficult to read the roadsigns in the dusk. Before too long I reached Yellowleaf Road and turned into the circular drive. I walked up to the big wooden door flanked by flickering gaslamps and rang the bell at my Aunt Karen's house.

She wasn't really my aunt, but was actually my mother's second cousin. A widow now, she had been a nurse that married an older researcher that was a founder of Pharmacon. I wasn't quite sure of the history, but knew that she had been working for him and that it was somewhat scandalous at the time. What I knew all too well was that she still worked for Pharmacon. I knew this because I worked for them too, and though it was never stated, I always suspected that she had had something to do with the initial offer.

Her daughter, Amy, was about 5 years younger than me, and was about to get married. That was why I was here. Well... sort of. Amy's wedding was going to be on the beach at a resort in Belize in 2 weeks. Aunt Karen had sent me an email at work the day before saying she needed me to come over to talk about an opportunity in the office and that she also needed to take care of some work-related things with me prior to the trip. To say this was odd or out of the ordinary would be an understatement. Aunt Karen was very high up and about as far away from me in the corporate structure as two employees could be. I figured this was almost by design. Otherwise there might be some nepotism policy triggered, and in all my 2 1/2 years there I had never once seen nor emailed her. Growing up, I knew that my mom and her were close, but we never saw them outside of the annual family reunion. Still, I was looking forward to the upcoming beach vacation paid for by my folks, and did not question her request/demand because 1) she was pretty high up and 2) I figured I owed her for the unacknowledged act of getting me started with the company.

The door opened... "Hi Bart, so good to see you! Come here."

She gave me a sort of warm, sort of professional half-hug and ushered me in. I had never seen her house, but it was amazing. The marble foyer led quickly to the large kitchen. Her heels clicked on the marble and then the tile. A word about my name. Bartholomew Hinden - a family name. I hated it, and went by Bart, though both the middle school bully and my old fraternity brothers called me B- Hind.

"Red or white?"

She didn't waste any time... "I'll take a white, but really whatever you have open," I replied.

As she opened the fridge and bent down I took a moment to notice her heels again and loose flowing long pants that appeared to be quite thin- then kicked myself for having done so.

"How 'bout a nice mean Chardonnay?"

We sat in the red leather couches in the cozy den, and I took a moment to really look at her. It had been years. She looked almost like a high-end realtor. Blond hair with slight hints of gray, a thin but flowing animal print blouse with those black pants, tasteful, but big jewelry... very pretty face, glasses to give her a hint of sophistication, nice body but maybe just a shade too tan.

"So tell me Bart, how goes it selling drugs?"

"Not too bad. Some of our products have suffered given the economy, but it hasn't affected Powerstreem or Incontino. Fortunately bladder control is not something folks seem to think is discretionary. But the new regulations are tough. No more dinners, and I have to be careful even bringing donuts to the office ladies too often at my top clinics."

"That's funny. You may not know this, but before I was in development I had a rotation as a manager for the sales staff. I would only hire hot girls or good ole boys to take the doctors hunting. I figured we should appeal to their most basic instincts. 'sex-good, killing deer-good... want more sex and killing deer- better give the Pharmacon reps more time.' "

I chuckled, not knowing she had been involved in sales, but knowing she spoke the truth.

"Now I'm in the Disposables department of the Development division. We've always been the red-headed step-child to Pharma and Capital Investment, but funny what a bad economy does. Hospitals still need disposables, and that funding doesn't get cut, so the tenth floor will listen to our project ideas even though new equipment proposals and studies don't stand a chance."

I took another sip, and so did she.

"That's one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you. I have a new project coming up, and one that's been, well, a pet project of mine for some time but have not been given the go ahead until now. I want to talk to you about something called the Career-Broadening Initiative and an internal internship. First though, we need to get some more pressing matters taken care of."

She finished her drink and headed over to a desk that was sort of in an alcove off of the den. Out of a black leather satchel she pulled out another black package. With her back turned to me I couldn't really see what she was doing.

"We have a new immuno-enhancer for use when traveling outside of North America and western Europe called Delta-Globulin. It's approved, and very effective- the contract with the federal government is currently being negotiated, and our marketing people have it as a top priority."

She was still messing around with the package as she spoke, "...should go out to our reps by the end of next quarter. In fact, it's so effective the company policy is being written up so that all our employees traveling will be required to have it prior to travel. It's not altruistic policy mind you... but it's a selling point and its efficacy makes it cost effective to prevent lost days at work due to recovering from Montezuma's revenge after every other vacation to Cancun."

She then turned around carrying back three very large syringes filled with some sort of yellow substance.

"So, since we're going to Belize next week..."

She had a little wicked smirk on her face as she set them down on the coffee table as well as several accessories she had been carrying in her other hand. I was almost (but not quite) distracted enough by the syringes to miss a great deal of cleavage as her loose top fell away from her chest in that position. She looked at me, but didn't stand up. Had I been caught staring? The wicked smirk turned even naughtier and I sensed she was almost testing me to see how I would respond.

I was having a hard time responding. My ears were ringing and my eyes were wide in sensory overload. I could not find my tongue. I downed the last of my wine and stood up. She stood up too, smiled warmly now and put her arm around my shoulder. In her heels she was almost as tall as me. I could smell her perfume. She looked me in the eye, our faces inches apart.

"Look, these are going to hurt pretty bad- I'm not going to lie. But it won't be THAT bad, and then (grin) you get to do me! Now, drop 'em. It goes in your ass." She turned back around to pick up her stuff.
 
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... Never posted a story here, much less used a volunteer editor... how does this work? I'm guessing that if you're interested, you pm me with your email address and then I send it to you? Or do I need to PM folks who might express an interest by replying to this thread? ...
Different editors work in different ways. Some will PM you; others will post in here and wait for you to PM them.

You could try PMing the available editors in this months list (see Active Editors - May sticky).
 
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