Writing exercise 3: something for the weekend

[StillStunned]

I'm not such a nice guy as @nice90sguy, so this latest writing exercise is the same as the first one, without much effort on my part at all. For those of you who are only joining us for the first time, here's the idea: below is the outline of a story. You write a snippet of around 250 words, from any part of the story (not necessarily the story's beginning, like last time). It doesn't have to be a standalone piece, it doesn't have to have a beginning, middle and end. Just an example of how you would write that bit of the story.

So here's the outline:

Ellie is working in her garden when she hears the new neighbours - Don and Val - having sex. Intrigued, she keeps listening, trying to find a place where she can get a view of them. She has her fingers down her shorts when suddenly she feels strong hands grab her waist and a cock press up against her.

Remember, just show us your style, or perhaps your kinks. Don't try to make it something that could be published by itself, even as the shortest of shorts. Just a section of a longer piece. Where do you jump in? What elements do you emphasise? What twists would you add to make the story your own?

Have fun!

 

[onehitwanda]

here's

I am currently writing the murder scene.

 

[StillStunned]

I am currently writing the murder scene.

Thanks for pointing out the typo.

 

[onehitwanda]

Thanks for pointing out the typo.

you're most welcome

Who wants their fluffy tummy tickled! You do!

 

[StillStunned]

Who wants their fluffy tummy tickled! You do!

Careful, the redhead gets very jealous if other women touch me.

 

[Bamagan]

Another voyeurism prompt? I'm tempted to cut and paste from last week but change the names and switch 'hill' out for 'garden'.

 

[TheLobster]

Alright, let's indulge Mr @StillStunned one more time.

***

The dense hedge parted only reluctantly, when Ellie used both hands to pry the shrubs open. She was looking for the source of the lewd noise — that slippery squelching sounds of hard flesh sliding into a slick snatch — but she could barely see anything through the thick greenery.

It was no good, for she really needed that other hand of hers strumming her engorged clit.

"Oh yes, Don! Fuck me, fuck me hard!"

This was Valerie, her new neighbor, somewhere in her and her husband's backyard garden. Ellie couldn't believe that the raunchy couple would just shamelessly do it outside, under the spring sun of this cozy Saturday afternoon, but Val's deep and sultry voice was unmistakable. Heck, she had sounded seductive when she and Don visited her the other day, bringing a delicious apple pie as they introduced themselves to Ellie and her husband. The tall, statuesque brunette was absolutely stunning; the thought of her getting railed by her admittedly handsome man was sending shivers down Ellie's spine.

She simply had to see it!

Still on her knees, she grabbed the hoe she was using to till the soil in her garden, shoving it through the overgrown wall of leaves and branches. But just as Ellie thought she finally caught a glimpse of the couple's lurid mating, something thick and hard was shoved into her suddenly exposed pussy.

"Whaa..."

She heard a resonant chuckle behind her.

"They're naughty, aren't they? Maybe we can be, too..."

She moaned. "Oh, Harry..."

 

[StillStunned]

Another voyeurism prompt? I'm tempted to cut and paste from last week but change the names and switch 'hill' out for 'garden'.

Write what you know.

But it's only part voyeurism. You could also to NC, or give whatever spin you want to the "strong hands". I deliberately left that bit vague. Is it a stranger? Her partner? The delivery man - or woman? Her son? You could go with any of half a dozen Lit categories, just off the top of my head.

 

[mrs_mackenzie]

Cutting hedges was hardly Ellie’s favourite garden maintenance job, but it did mean she had an excellent excuse to be halfway up a ladder. There wasn’t really a good reason to be looking into her neighbour’s garden, however; that was just because she’d heard Don and Val, the couple who’d bought the Thysson’s home and moved in a few weeks ago. Ellie missed Ben Thysson, who loved doing garden work topless and, better still, regularly offered to cut her side of the hedge. She’d never heard Ben and Holly Thysson like she was currently hearing Don and Val, though. The unmistakable sound of sex. And, judging by the grunting and gasping, quite energetic sex. What’s a girl halfway up a ladder to do, except sneak a glance?

There they were: she could see Don, hips moving, Val up against the wall of the house, but they were partly hidden by the apple tree planted in the middle of their lawn. A little movement to the left and they’d be revealed in all their, ahem, glory. Ellie leant over, trying not to look obvious, one hand on the ladder, one hand sneaking into her shorts.

“Always keep two hands on the ladder, babe,” Jake said, behind her, his hands grabbing her waist to steady her just as the ladder began to tip sideways. “Safety first; perving on the neighbours second.” He took a step up onto the ladder and his cock pressed into her arse. “There, that should be steady enough.”

 

[Bamagan]

Write what you know.

But it's only part voyeurism. You could also to NC, or give whatever spin you want to the "strong hands". I deliberately left that bit vague. Is it a stranger? Her partner? The delivery man - or woman? Her son? You could go with any of half a dozen Lit categories, just off the top of my head.

For some reason, I'm just not feeling this one.
---
Ellie screamed with shock when her rooster startled her, jumping up on her hips and making her think she'd been grabbed. The damn bird crowed with satisfaction at his triumph, then strutted off to attend to his hens. The neighbors, who undoubtedly had heard the commotion, were silent, and after a few moments the sound of a sliding glass door opening and closing suggested they'd decided to continue their tryst inside, where noisy cocks and gardeners would find it harder to disturb them.
"Dammit, Foghorn! One of these days I'm gonna turn you into a pile of nuggets!"

 

[StillStunned]

Here's my own. Heavy on the Voyeur aspect, obviously.

===

Feeling guilty, but unable to stop herself – or perhaps just unwilling to – Ellie moved her head slightly. Val’s face came into view, head flung back over the armrest, long hair streaming down to the floor.

Her eyes were screwed shut. Her mouth was open, her tongue on her lips. There was a flush on her cheeks that spread down to her neck.

Reluctant to tear her gaze away, Ellie shot the quickest of glances around her. No-one could see her from the street. Any prying eyes would have to be standing almost by her front door for her to be visible.

She returned her attention to the open window. Val’s gasps still floated across, breathier now, almost grunts. Pale flesh resolved itself into a leg, thrown over the back of the couch, the afternoon sunlight gleaming off the smooth skin. Fingers clawed rhythmically at the fabric.

Don’s feet were sticking over the other armrest, occasionally twitching. Ellie was close enough now that she could hear his deeper grunts, the slurping sound of his tongue and lips on Val.

It was that sound, that enticing, deliciously sexy sound, that broke down Ellie’s barriers. She wanted that sound for herself. She wanted to run her fingers down between her legs, feel her moistness, add her own sticky slurps to Val’s.

No-one could see her. No-one would know. No-one would call her a perv for sliding her fingers into her shorts, beneath the elastic of her knickers, through the short curls to warmth below. No-one–

 

[nice90sguy]

I'd like to contribute, but the way the challenge is worded, there's no way I can avoid writing sex. Unless the cock is a rooster, and the strong hands grabbing her waist are her own, because she's just felt she has a kidneystone.

 

[StillStunned]

I'd like to contribute, but the way the challenge is worded, there's no way I can avoid writing sex. Unless the cock is a rooster, and the strong hands grabbing her waist are her own, because she's just felt she has a kidneystone.

Why would you avoid writing sex? Because it's Whitsun this weekend?

 

[Bazzle]

Ellie was lying out in the grass in her back garden. It was the first sunny Saturday in months, it felt like years. It has been raining every weekend for the last 6 months. She should have been gardening. The weeds had been ferociously growing in the borders.

As her house was surrounded on all sides by very prying neighbours, she was in her short denim shorts, and white crop top. Desperate to get some colour on her stomach and legs.

She was prepared for the long haul. Her latest novel, Factor 5 sun cream had been liberally spread around, and within easy reach her cheeky cigarettes and her bottle of water.

After an hour she rolled over onto her front. It was as she turned the page she could hear grunting from the otherside of the hedge. She stubbed her cigarette out in the gravel beside her and listened.

Grunt, grunt, squealing moan.

It was eleven thirty in the morning.

Moan, whine, moan, grunt, grunt.

She felt herself stop breathing. All she was doing was listening. She imagined Graham thrusting deep in the Margret. She rolled onto her side, her hand travelled down inside her own panties.

With her eyes closed she couldn't help but quietly moan as she mirrored the thrusts next door. It was a strange delightful shared feeling.

She didn’t notice that the grunts and moans from next door had stopped. Her moans were getting louder and louder, the pressure inside her was building. Her image of Graham had morphed into Simon at work. Marg was out of the picture. It was her. Simon straddling her thrusting deep inside as they lay out on a deserted beach.

She was enjoying the feeling of Simon’s fingers touching her hips and his hard cock pushing against her backside. She then opened her eyes.

 

[nice90sguy]

Why would you avoid writing sex? Because it's Whitsun this weekend?

No, because I'm totally shite at sex. Interpret that how you like

 

[gunhilltrain]

I've got the next line, at least. "Ellie and her husband had moved to Syosset, Long Island to get away from the craziness going on in 1980's Brooklyn. Just before she turned around, she thought, 'Oh God, it's followed me out here too.' " That's only 37 words, but I'd have to think about what would be in 250. But as it says in my bio, time and place are important.

P.S. I think I have an idea for the rest of it.

 

[gunhilltrain]

No, because I'm totally shite at sex. Interpret that how you like

Yet you've got twenty stories on Lit. It doesn't matter how explicit or not they are; do you like them yourself? It seems that your readers mostly like them.

 

[gunhilltrain]

I am currently writing the murder scene.

There won't be a murder, because I don't write those. So, @StillStunned, when is this due? I might go over 250 words if I do it was I wish. Maybe I should then submit it for an actual posting on Lit. I have to see how it goes.

 

[gunhilltrain]

Syosett: looks about right, but damn has it gotten expensive. But everything in the Northeast has gotten expensive. I guess I could set it in Tennessee or something. Not sure if it should be in the present or an earlier decade.

https://www.trulia.com/NY/Syosset/

 

[StillStunned]

So, @StillStunned, when is this due?

No deadline. This is just a bit of fun. Write a bit, show off your style.

 

[AlinaX]

For the briefest of instants, I’m sure it’s my husband pressing himself against me from behind, my husband’s hard cock pressing urgently against my bum through the thin cotton of my blue dress, my husband’s warm breath against my neck igniting a fierce hunger within where previously was only an itch and stir of illicit excitement. The briefest of instants…

At last I find the gap I’ve been hunting for, less than a finger’s width, but enough, positioned just right, and I can see them. Don and Val. Fucking. In the back garden, sun in the sky, her cries muted but clear, the unmistakable smack of flesh, the grunts of pleasure that remind me so much of -

Fuck.

Fuck!

It isn’t Don. I know the shape too well. Just as I know by its shape that the cock pressing between my thighs is not my husband’s.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers in my ear.

“Stop,” my lips say, but he cannot see my lips. I don’t want him to.

 

[gunhilltrain]

No deadline. This is just a bit of fun. Write a bit, show off your style.

Now I've imagined an entire story based on this, and even the snippet will be longer than 250 words. Maybe I can have the first part up here by Sunday, and if it is well received, I'll keep going. Don't worry, I don't write 20 K word standalone stories. One major difference: Ellie will be the narrator. So, @StillStunned, I'll give you a credit of "inspired by" if I eventually post it to a Lit category.

 

[lovecraft68]

This makes me think of a lit version of clue, it was her brother, in the garden, with the handcuffs.

 

[lovecraft68]

I am currently writing the murder scene.

Ellie's hands drop to the ones around her waist, her thumbs gouging into the nerve cluster located between the soft skin of the thumb and forefinger. A cry of pain sounds behind her and as his grip loosens, she throws her head back. She hears a satisfying crunch, the unmistakable sound of Cartlidge breaking, and spins around to see his hands have reflexively gone to his face, covering his ruined nose. A quick hard strike to his throat crushed his larynx, and as he drops to his knees, choking, his face already turning blue, she kicks him in the face; an unnecessary move, but it makes her smile.

 

[gunhilltrain]

Ellie's hands drop to the ones around her waist, her thumbs gouging into the nerve cluster located between the soft skin of the thumb and forefinger. A cry of pain sounds behind her and as his grip loosens, she throws her head back. She hears a satisfying crunch, the unmistakable sound of Cartlidge breaking, and spins around to see his hands have reflexively gone to his face, covering his ruined nose. A quick hard strike to his throat crushed his larynx, and as he drops to his knees, choking, his face already turning blue, she kicks him in the face; an unnecessary move, but it makes her smile.

Will this be in the Erotic Horror category?