Writing NOW Thread

[Guest]

Hey, we're all authors, right (or pretend to be, sometimes - as is my case), and what more do we like to do than writing? Talk about ourselves and our writing, of course!

So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to start up a new list/talk about ourselves thread.

What are you currently working on?

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

What do you plan to write next?

I'll answer my own questions soon, and if anybody wants to add some more, please do!

Lou

 

[neonlyte]

Deconstructing and re-writing the work I started under nano last year.

I haven't looked at it for six months and my God there is some f***ing awful writing! I'm hoping it is a measure of the path I've travelled since you embarked me on this voyage. Time will tell.

 

[Guest]

Edit, cos Neon posted before me.

What are you currently working on?

Another pretty hardcore BDSM story. I'm loving it!

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?

It's flowing quite well, but I'm not in the right frame of mind for writing right now. That and the house being busy at the mo.

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

I enjoy both shorts and novels, for different reasons. I often get a sense of instant gratification from writing a short. Whereas, with a novel, I find I get very engrossed with the characters and plot - it's like going back to an old friend each day.

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

Yep, I think that's where my multiple personality disorder comes from.

What do you plan to write next?

Not sure. I do have an idea for a new novel, as well as many for shorts. It will probably be another short BDSM piece, for now.

Lou

 

[cloudy]

Hey, we're all authors, right (or pretend to be, sometimes - as is my case), and what more do we like to do than writing? Talk about ourselves and our writing, of course!

So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to start up a new list/talk about ourselves thread.

What are you currently working on?

The next chapter of "Atlantis Revisited"

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?

The story's there in my mind, whole and complete. Getting it to flow from brain to fingers to keyboard is quite another story....yep, I'm stalling.

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

Short stories hold my ADD interest better, but I'm still trying to work on a novel.

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

YES!

What do you plan to write next?

Not sure, probably continue the Atlantis thing, but my mind's subject to change rather rapidly.

 

[Guest]

Deconstructing and re-writing the work I started under nano last year.

I haven't looked at it for six months and my God there is some f***ing awful writing! I'm hoping it is a measure of the path I've travelled since you embarked me on this voyage. Time will tell.

Hey, I'm also doing that right now! I sat and read through a few chapters of mine this afternoon, and while I was pleased (and rather impressed) with the actual storyline, the writing isn't so hot in places.

Lou

 

[ABSTRUSE]

I'll get back to you on this....busy today!

 

[sirhugs]

Hey, we're all authors, right (or pretend to be, sometimes - as is my case), and what more do we like to do than writing? Talk about ourselves and our writing, of course!

So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to start up a new list/talk about ourselves thread.

What are you currently working on?

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

What do you plan to write next?

I'll answer my own questions soon, and if anybody wants to add some more, please do!

Lou

Currently working on a novella that never stops growing..about two people exploding past their limits...it's silly and boisterous. Also a sixth segment of my " Donna" Loving wives series.

I do not let the novella stall...200 words a day minimum , more if it flows. The Donna story started fast but needs more attention.

I find my writing gets longer as I gain confidence. But still not really keen on more than about 6000 words.

Yes, my characters become very real to me. I wish I had haslf their fun.

Next, I may write a one-off collaboration " BDSM meets the Mile High Club" with a Lit person into BDSM who needs help writing it.

 

[Guest]

Re: Re: Writing NOW Thread

Currently working on a novella that never stops growing..about two people exploding past their limits...it's silly and boisterous. Also a sixth segment of my " Donna" Loving wives series.

I do not let the novella stall...200 words a day minimum , more if it flows. The Donna story started fast but needs more attention.

I find my writing gets longer as I gain confidence. But still not really keen on more than about 6000 words.

Yes, my characters become very real to me. I wish I had haslf their fun.

Next, I may write a one-off collaboration " BDSM meets the Mile High Club" with a Lit person into BDSM who needs help writing it.

Cheers for that!

You're right, it does not pay to let a longer piece stall. If I do that, I find I lose momentum and often, interest. Keep at it, that's the key.

Unless I decide it is, in fact, crap. Then I leave it for a while and might go back to it. Otherwise I move on to something else.

Lou

 

[neonlyte]

Hey, I'm also doing that right now! I sat and read through a few chapters of mine this afternoon, and while I was pleased (and rather impressed) with the actual storyline, the writing isn't so hot in places.

Lou

Yeh, it's the same. The story line is fine. The latter section is excellent, the front end is awful. I've researched hugely for the second part of the story but decided to start over before writing a first draft of the second half.

So to answer your questions:

What are you currently working on?
The Studio - story above
Continuing with OB SEEN, five chapters written
Two shorts in draft for Lit.
Thinking and working through notes for Norway I'll be there next week to research ahead of nano2004.

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling? It's fine.

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?
I hated short stories, always avoided reading them. Found I enjoy writing them, found I enjoy reading them, but prefer longer to read and write.

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while? Completely, I speak their words and act out their gestures.

What do you plan to write next?
A romance juxtaposing Nordic sagas and an unconventional love affair.

 

[CharleyH]

Re: Re: Writing NOW Thread

What are you currently working on?

I have just finished my first posted 'erotic couplings' story, the link at the bottom will take you there. LOL, I think I am getting massacred by pseudo English teachers and men who can't handle either the abrupt sex, or a little up the butt by a female. Nonetheless, the feedback is enlightening. Did I mention the link near the bottom? Not my bottom.

Spurred on by the above, I am writing an article called "Aiming to Please," which is a look at the struggle of erotic writers. Should anyone happen to find themselves interested in being quoted as writer of erotica or porn, please feel free to PM me.

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?

I am also writing a non-erotic novel. I have a few novels on the go. This is the only one that I don't have to research, so the flow is going well. I have also structured it in a format best suited to me at this time. Like it or not, I am forcing myself to complete one chapter per day, at least 5 times per week. Hopefully, I will be ready to look at the whole thing in August.

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

Novels give me more space to develop complicated characters and plots, but require research. The short story is much easier to write, at least for me, and so this is my current preference.

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

In writing, I am at least one of my characters and other characters are at least someone I know. I have already lived most of it, so you could say I re-live it, and then move on.

What do you plan to write next?

Short story wise? I have no clue.

 

[Guest]

Off to have a read of Charley's story. I found the link at the bottom of her post.

EDIT: RCV'd. Outstanding, Charley, and I really mean that.

Lou

 

[Guest]

6 PM

"I reckon the next big trend will be cheese n' toast," JJ said and took a toke off spliff. He exhaled and self-affirmed by adding, "Yeah, cheese n' toast will kick McDonald's and those high-street sandwich bars in their asses. Are you gonna eat pizza that costs ten quid without any toppings and get redicurously fat or, be smart and follow the ever-fashionable Cheese n' toast?"

JJ was wearing his usual army-style baggy, black t-shirt and moss-green bomber jacket. His soft blonde hair was hidden beneath black cap favoured by rap artists. He looked like he was wearing a large condom on his head.

The underground train rocked steadily. <i>Guh-gun Guh-gun</i>

"A cheese on toast bar?" Jude mused, taking the joint off JJ. He turned around a poll like a stripper, making a circle with the weed-smoke in the train compartment. "How much you chargin'? 99p?" He fixed the fit of his long coat over his shoulder and rearanged his scarf around his neck.

"Put on bits of tomato and call it C&T de Napolitana. 1.99p," said Keith, sitting opposit from JJ, and taking the potent-smelling joint from Jude. "Make it sound European. Add some class. Put on some gooy, stikin' cheese an' call it C&T de la Paris. 2.99p. Bit of olives and mashrooms; C&T de Scisiliano: 3.99p. Sosage? C&T Germania. Something like that, anyway." Keith concluded his part, bored. He adjusted Lennon-style pink sunglasses on his small, pointy nose, and looked around at the tired faces of 9 to 5 men and women, the turists and day-trippers.

His eyes caught an offencive sight.

"Look at that cunt," he chin-gestured to his companions.

"Fuckin' iPod," JJ spat out.

"Ten thousand songs in his pocket. Now his life is fullfilled," looking up at the heaven, Jude lamented, over-dramatically.

"I swear. No one needs ten fucking thousand songs with him all the time. Oi! You, twat! You happy?!" Keith shouted to the young man with the new tech gadget. Other passengers, not wanting to get involved, burried their head in papers, books or plane simply turned away. The young man with the gadget turned the volume up a notch and made himself smaller.

"Fuckin' twat," JJ said, "Can-do-men. Ten thousand? Can-do. Ten thousand nuclear war heads? Can-do. Internet child porn? Can-do. Fucking twats."

"Money, innit," said Keith. "Money makes things happen, or something."

The train stopped at a station, spitting out some passengers and swallowing in the new ones. "Mind the gap. Mind the gap," the speaker warned. It was staggering to think there were some people actually falling in or straight through 'the gap'. Evolution: survival of the fittest.

The train moved on.<i>Guh-gun Guh-gun<i>

"What's the news, anyway?" Keith asked, bored.

"Gang-rape is on the increase in London," JJ informed. "It's well popular among young men of age between 15 to 24. Over half of them have previous criminal records, if I remembered correctly."

"Great. Fuck wits." Jude said. He sat next to Keith.

"Yeah, fuckwits who got cought," Keith scrutched the tip of his nose. "What do you expect? You open a tabloid news papers and it's filled with naked tits and stories of footballers 'roasting' teeny boppers. It puts ideas in people's head, innit."

"It's not right, though," JJ commented. "I mean, I don't want <i>them</i> fuckers gang-raping my sister. You know what I mean."

"Can't be helped, I'm affraid. Idiots do stupid things." Jude refixed his scarf.

"Can-do-men." Keith concluded, bored.

"Too many can-do-women in porn, too," Jude yarned.

The train slowed down at a station. <i>Guh Gun</i>

"That's our stop," JJ anounced.

"Mind the gap. Mind the gap."

*

7 p.m.

Martin sat on the front pew in a church praying to God to help him. He didn't think he could make it on the streets: <i>alone</i>. Although he was not a regular church goer, on this occasion, he had made an exception.

Deserted, the church was filled with silent echos.

A hand lightly gripped Martin's shoulder. It made him jump a little. "Son, you have to go. We are closing up for the night," a deep, tender voice said, softly.

Martin tuned and saw the cloth. He said, "But, Father, I'm destitute. I've nowhere else to go. Surly, I could stay here for the night? I mean no harm, Father. I'm scared out there. I don't think I'd make it to tomorrow." Martin pleaded in panic.

"Sorry, son. We are locking the place up. You cannot stay."

Dejected, and with his head hanging low, Martin walked out of the Gothic building.

Out side, the air was chilly, making Martin's breaths white. The occasional sweeping wind made it worse for Martin and his redning cheeks and nose. The street was wet. The young man looked up to the sky and thanked God for not making him get wet in rain.

He needed some shelter, so he went to look for it.

Every corners he looked, Martin had found, has been already taken by men. Some men had dogs for companionship. There weren't many women around. Women were busy selling their arses at place like King's Cross and Paddington. Men who sold their arses moved off streets for some reason. 'Strange', Martin thought. He wasn't sure if he would be stuck on the streets or move off them. Either way he didn't like the idea of it. 'Strange,' Martin thought again. It came to him, from somewhere he once read, a hundred years ago, one in four women in London were prostitutes. 'Stuggering statistic,' Martin shook his head. It also came to him, today, in Britain, one in four women experiences sexual abuse in her life time. Assult. Rape. The figure was one in three for World-wide over all. Martin thought of his three sisiters and his mum. They totaled four.

Martin came to a gathering of people. Some Sumeritans were giving out soup. He joined the cue.

"Allright, mate?" one of the Sumaritans asked Martin cheerfully as he handed out a papercupful of watery soup.

Thinking the question was cosmetic, Martin replied, "Yeah, cheers."

It didn't fill him up, but the chicken soup made Martin feel a little better. At the same time, it reminded him how far he had fallen.

'Luck was everything between success and failure, unless you were a cheater. Some called it chance, but it definitly felt like luck,' thought Martin.

*

8 p.m.

Keith, JJ and Jude met up with Henry at Georgio's fashionable new restaurant in the City. It, being located in the City, was almost empty of its customers at this hour.

The matir'd tried to stop the three youth. "Sir, you cannot come in without tie."

"The place is fucking empty, man." JJ observed, pointing his finger at the empty space. "Are you trying to tell us our money is not good enough?"

"Sir, rules are rules," the matir'd persisted, blocking the young men.

"Fuck off!" With a crunching sound, Keith head butted the French man, sending him to the ground, holding his busted, bloody nose.

The three strode in. The waitresses and chefs behind the open kitchen averted their eyes away, wisely.

"Keith. JJ." Henry greeted. "Allright, Jude? Please, do take your seat."

Henry was dressed imacurately as his usual self. Three piece suit and Italian shoes. His family belonged to the Toffia (criminal network among the aristcrats) as well as the Taffia (criminal network among the Welsh). Other words, well-connected, up way high. Rich and handsomely gay, Henry liked associating with youger generation. Especially with the three, well-motivated pretty boys like the ones who were sitting with him at the table.

Unsmiling dark-uniformed waitress brought out the menues.

"Can I have a vegiterian menu?" Jude asked, handing back his hard-covered, wine-red menubook.

"Certenly," said the waitress, "Would you like to order the drinks first?" Her French accent was soft and educated for catoring the needs of the dinners.

"I'll have a pint of house red," said Keith. The waitress wrote it down.

"Erm..." JJ crained his neck to read the waitress' name tag, "Maria, a bottle of bubbly in silver bucket with chunks of ice cubes for me. I say, you are pretty." JJ winked. Maria sort of smiled and wrote his order down.

"Bottled water for me," said Jude, "No gas."

Henry emptied his neat whiskey and said, "The same again, darling Maria. Off you go."

Jude rolled up a joint while the other three read the menus.

"Why is this written in fucking Italian?" Keith asked to no one in particuler.

"Because this is a fucking Italian restaurant," JJ helpfully replied.

"Why can't they print some helpful transration on the menu? The pretentious fucks," Keith put down the menu, bored with looking at the Italian menu written in italics.

"Not to worry, gents. Georgio is a personal friend of mine. He'll prepare anything you want, providing you don't order baby elephant's kidney or something similar to it," Henry said from behind the menu he was studying.

Maria returned with the drinks and a vegterian menu for Jude.

"Stake and chips. No fucking greens," said Keith.

"Roasted duck breast for me," said JJ, "And wilted spinech."

"I say, I rather fancy porched salmon, myself," said Henry.

Maria wrote it all down.

"Stake and chips for me too," said Jude, handing the vegiterian menu back to Maria. "I just remembered. Hittler was a vegi-eater."

"I can't believe the French slug brought me a pint of red wine," said Keith, after Maria had gone away.

"You ordered it," JJ reminded Keith.

"Hittler committed incest," Keith ignored JJ.

"Non-smoker with one testicle missing," added Henry.

Jude lit up the joint.

"He was a <i>vagi</i>-eating paedophile," concluded Keith, bored.

"Never killed 12 million Jews. More like 10 million," quantified JJ.

"That's just a statistic," said Henry, "Remember good old uncle Joe?"

"Stalin was a fag," Keith remarked without thinking.

"So, am I," Henry grined, taking Keith's offensive comment not too seriously.

The joint did its round. As it happened with smoking dope, the conversation got lost in the time continuum which twisted and turned up side down.

The food came. Keith ordered a pint of vodka.

Maria, serious at her job as ever, brought a pint full of vodka to the table, and placed in front of Keith promptly. He looked up at the waitress for a moment with mouthful of juicy steak in his mouth, seemingly lost for words for once. Her gaze didn't frinch.

JJ kept pinching chips from Keith's and Jude's plate. Keith gave Jude the fatty part of his stake and took a half of JJ's duck. No one bothered Henry's plate. Fish was for the toffs.

Keith called Maria back and ordered a pint glass so he could fill it with JJ's bubbly.

Under the table, Henry's right hand was fondling Jude's cock, bringing up to a nice hard-on. Jude peirced a fat, long chip with his fork and bit it in half while showing a rised eyebrow to Henry as if to say, "what?".

The immidiate thought that entered Keith's mind when Henry's left hand wondered onto his crotch was to smash a pint glass against the old man's face, but he restrained and reminded himself that the man was a patron. A bank. A Gold mine. Keith's cock remained flaccid any way, to the Henry's administration.

No one ordered the deserts. Deserts were for kids, women and fat men. Henry handed Maria his gold Am-Ex. Keith took a sip of red wine, gurgled, and spat it out into the untouched pint of vodka. The men watched the drink change its colour with abid fascination.

"Well, thank you, Maria. The food was lovely. Thank Geogio as well," said Henry, taking his card back. He tipped the waitress handsomely.

Henry gave matir'd £50 for his red nose.

Out on the street, Henry raised his arm, and a black cab stopped imidiately. The men got in.

"Where to, gov'?" asked the driver with heavy East European accent.

"Soho, please, my good man," said Henry.

*

9 p.m.

Finding a quiet, dry spot on a wet night in London was difficult for Martin. He felt Exahusted by the hopeless day he had.

"Fucking waste if space!" his father's voice echoed in his head.

It was followed by the <i>whoosh</i> of his father's belt cutting through the air and the sound of it hitting Martin's backside all over. He cringed and rested his buttocks on the cold, hard, nevetheless, dry surface by the entrance of an empty building.

Leaning his back against the wall which protected him from harsh wind somewhat, Martin massaged his aching thigh and calf muscles. He felt the welts on them and that made him grit his teeth.

"What are you, a faggort?!" <i>Whoosh</i>

The place looked quite soulless, thought Martin. The utter greyness of it. Even the red bricks looked grey to Martin in the night, even though the streets lights were casting their orangy colour. He hugged his thins with his arms, and rested his chin on one knee, slightly rocking himself back and forth.

"You fucking cocksucker!" <i>Whoosh</i>

A stream of light caught Martin's eye, and he saw the headlights of a car turning onto the street he was sitting upon. It was a large limusine, its colour as black as night. It passed him by, but soon slowed to a hault, and reversed, stopping right in front of Martin.

"Do you enjoy taking up your arse, is that it?!"<i>Whoosh</i>

The uniformed driver got off, and shut the heavy door. <i>Shutm</i>

He walked around to the rear door at Martin's side and opened it.

The first thing Martin saw were a pair of stockinged legs on blood-red highheels. The heels made clicking noises as they touched the concreat of the ground.

"You fucked him?!" <i>Whoosh</i>

The figure emarging from the back of limusine was of a young, beautiful woman in red-dress. It reminded Martin of the sort of dresses women wore in opera concerts.

"Whore!" <i>Whoosh</i>

Under the orange tinge of the street lights, she looked extraordinariry stricking to Martin. Her ample cleavage was being showed off and seemed enhanced by the cut of the dress. Martin could not believe the curvatious young <i>woman</i> was walking towards him.

<i>Click Click Click</i>

Her hips swayed of their own accord. <i>Whoosh Whoosh</i>

She stopped one step short of Martin. He looked up from the red highheels to her stockinged legs to the hem of her one piece dress to the swell of her soft mounds of breasts to her long sensual neck to her emacurately made-up face. She looked other-worldly to Martin.

"Cocksucking Whore!" <i>Whoosh</i>

His back scraping against the red brick wall, he stood up, unable to say anything. She was taller than him, probably even without the heels, he estimated.

His eyes momentariry wondered off her and saw the driver in his crisp uniform still holding the open back door in his white gloved hand. Martin couldn't quite see the grey haired man's eyes as they were hidden in the shadow cast from the beak of driver's hat. The darkness of it gave Martin a chill through his spine.

"Are you lost, boy?" her voice was surprisingly soft and light. Not a hair strand was out of place, her hair remaining tall and sevier against the night wind.

Not used to be being addressed as a 'boy', Martin stermered. "Em... I guess I am..., Ma'am."

"Faggort!" <i>Whoosh</i>

The woman extended her right arm towards Martin, smiling softly as if expecting Martin to take her hand. Her blood-red lipps worded, "Come. If you'd like a warm bed to sleep in."

Though knowing full well not to trust a woman whose name he was yet to know, Martin took her hand. It was warm, dry and soft.

"What are you?! A baby?! Stop Goddamn crying!"

<i>Whoosh</i>

<i>Whoosh</i>

<i>Whoosh</i>

The woman led Martin to the door and into the back of the limusine. As he entered, the door shut behind him. <i>Shutm</i>

<i>Shutm</i> The driver got in the front. The limusine soon began to move.

"Ohff! The air gave me the chill!," said the woman, taking a glass container and filling two glasses with port. "Drink. It'll warm you up." She handed one to Martin with a warm smile. As she did so leaning forward, Martin could see the dark space between her breasts. Her dress was soft and made of silk, he now saw. Martin realised she wasn't wearing a bra. The dress was showing every contor of her body.

Dark red port was sweet and sticky. Martin enjoyed its smell. In the confined space, he could smell her presant perfume too. 'Or was it,' he thought.

"What is your name?" asked the older woman.

"Martin."

She sipped her drink, studying Martin. When nothing came, she said, "I'm Alex."

Martin was begining to notice her elegantly made aubern hair, her grey-blue eyes, her shiny red lips, her small set of perly white teeth, and her gold wedding ring on her long slender finger. His young body was already begining to respond to the sight of the woman in red silk.

"Nice to meet you, Alex," said Martin and felt foolish. He felt his cheeks flush.

"So, tell me, Martin. Why were you playing the role of a street urchin? There are enough of them already, don't you think?"

Taking the sip of the sweet liquid, Martin began to tell his tail.

*

10 p.m.

As Keith, JJ, Jude and Henry exited the lap dance club where they'd spent a half an hour on business, four leather-clad, tall, well muscled men, wearing Nazi-officers' hat and all looking like models, run past in front of the men emerging out of up-market gentlmen's club.

"Jesus, fuck." spat Keith looking at bulging, tight muscles of exposed arse cheeks.

"Spankable, would you say, Henry?" Jude teased the older man.

Henry was quite taken by four pair of tight buttocks, stairing as they run off with thud of their heavy boots.

"<i>Spunkable</i>, more like," JJ joked on the state Henry was in.

"Oh, yes. Quite!" commented Henry, returning to Earth.

"So, why are we not staying on the club and stare at some tits?" JJ asked to no one in particuler. He rather felt like spending the night staring at dancing girls in thong.

"Because we've done the business already and quite like to go to Henry's place where there are already people waiting for the man." Jude explained.

"Dancers are boring. You can't touch them," said Keith, bored. "Let's go and seduce some ladies from the high society, shall we?

"They are boring too, the are," complained Jude, "They are up to eye balls with coke.

"Then, do something more creative and exciting, like, fucking the ladies up their arse," JJ said, and made a 'how scandalous' face. He was a straight man, but behaved a little camp sometimes.

"So, what now?" Keith asked, bored.

Henry gracefully raised his hand and a Black cab stopped by the men, immediately. Must be the Rollex, culcurated Keith.

They headed to Henry's fuck-pad in South Kensington. It had three floors, 32 rooms, a hall, two kitchens and a turkish bath cum souna. Just one of many properties Henry owned in is name all over the world. His ex-wife owned double the properties Henry owned.

<b><i>Click</i></b>

Martin had never been kissed by a woman like the way Alex kissed him.

"Oh, the poor thing!" Alex exclaimed mornfully as she saw the welts on Martin's back. She took Martin to her soft, warm bosom and stroked his hair, kissing it.

He looked up, their eyes meeting the other: her lips pressed his softly at first, then a little harder, more eager and eargent. Martin felt Alex's wet, hot tongue trace a side line between his lips, and they parted quite naturally, allowing Alex's tongue within. His tongue welcomed it the way Martin hadn't yet know he could.

The whole softness of her body excited him further, his hands unsurely traveling over it.

He felt her finger tips reading the map of pain over Martin's back. The touchs stung, but not enough to make him wince.

Their lips parted, their breaths ragged. They felt each others hot moist breaths upon their flushed cheeks Their eyes gazed into the each other.

Momentarily, Martin granced at Alex's wedding ring as she was about to cup his cheeks in her hands for another kiss. It registered on her.

"Perhaps, you'd like a long relaxing warm bath. I shall look for the ointment for your welts while you are sorking yourself." she said, tactfully making a diversion.

"Perhaps," replied Martin, not knowing how to play this game with a young <i>married</i> woman.

A secret smile surfaced on Alex's as she left Martin alone for a moment.

<b><i>Click</i></b>

"Hello, father. Nice too see you chaps again so soon," greeted Henry Jr. without sarcasm towards the young men.

"Good evening, junior. You remember the boys?" said Henry, indicating the lads with a grand gesture of his hand.

"Allright, geezer?" Keith said to Henry Jr, unimpressedly, though in truth, he was deeply stuggered everytime he saw how the <i>rich</i> lived. Henry Junior, in turn, was enjoyed the way the boys seemingly accepted as one of their own in a casual manner.

"Junior, my boy! Hows hanging, mate?" high from smoking weed, Jude shook Henry junior's hand vigorously and even gave a 'piece, man' hug.

"Lookin' sharp, as usual," JJ complimented and shook Henry Junior's hand.

"Sharp? Am I?" Henry junior said, taking in JJ's street fashion with his condom cap on JJ's head. "I say! You are the sharp looking one, JJ." Henry Jr. considered his tailor-made Savoy row suit trifle boring and unfashinable these days.

"Come! My boys!" Henry suggested and hetered the hall. The lads followed him.

"I shall join you in a moment, father," Henry Junior said from the men's behind.

<b><i>Click</i></b>

"That's better, isn't it?" Alex gently oiled Martin's back. He was lying on a bed, relaxed from a good soak. He breathed deeply in and out as Alex's palm massaged his marked back softly.

Martin's young body was not quite filled up and there were some signs of softness here and there. Alex was loving touching the boy's smooth skin. She was taking especially good care of his bruised buttocks, slowly and gently massaging each cheeks with her palms and fingers.

"Haaah..." Martin sighed when Alex's right thumb rightly tickled his anus. He could feel the excess oil running between his sensitive inner thighs and towrds his balls. Between his body and the bed, his cock was hard.

"Oh, there you are. Alex," said Henry Jr. as he entered the room and found his wife. His cock was hardening from the sight of naked young flesh lying on the bed.

Jesus! thought Martin and froze on the bed.

"Oh, Henry! You must meet Martin. Isn't he absolutly adorable?" Alex stood, walked to her husband and kissed him on the lips, softly.

"Oh, absolutely delightful!" Henry Junior agreed with much enthusiasm.

"Come, darling," said Alex to her husband. His hand in hers, she brought Henry Jr. to the bedside.

"Martin... Hum. I like the name. It's a good name. Oh, yes. You've been keeping my wife's company, have you? She's a delightful creature, don't you agree?" Henry Jr. was undoing his belt.

"You cocksucking whore!" <i>Whoosh</i> The memory run through Martin's mind.

"Was my wife kind to you, boy? She'll be your best friend if you played her right. Come this way chap. Not to worry," Henry Jr. member stood paralell to the floor, it's tip an inch away from Martin's lips.

"Cocksucking faggort!" <i>Whoosh</i>

Martin shook, his face crimson with guilt and excitment. Tentatively, he took a grip on the length of Henry Jr. cock and licked its head. It tasted slightly stale. Dried urin. faintest oder of amonia.

"Don't be affrid, my man. I'll be gentle," Henry Jr. stated friendlily. "Chop, chop, Alex. You haven't even changed the dress," he told her off.

Martin took a deep breath and began to swallow the hard pulsating cock. Its hotness inside his mouth took him by surprise, but he managed not to gag. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Alex taking her red dress off casually, exposing her full breasts and black G-stings. It made Martin think what he might could have. The possibility excited him greatly.

"Well, I say, Alex. Look at the size of Martin's cock!" Henry Jr. commented, excitedly.

"I noticed, darling. I sure did," Martin heard her say somewhere behind Henry Jr. Her positive approoval did immence good on Martin's part, he speeded up his bobbing movement on Henry Jr. rod.

Alex's husband noticed the boy's eyes were watering a little. "What's the matter? Are you a virgin?"

Martin nodded.

"My God! Alex! How wonderful!" rejoiced Henry Jr. He proceeded to put his hands on Martin's face at the sides and expertly began to fuck his face, slowly and purpousfully.

"It sure is beautiful, isn't it, Henry?" Alex was kneeling by the bed next where her husband stood.

Martin, his eyes closed tightly in concentration not to gag, felt a warm, soft hand encircle his raging erection. It slowly jerked up and down its length, soon bringing pre-cum out of its slit. Martin felt like orgasming already.

"Get, ready, my new friend! It's coming! It's coming!" announced Henry Jr.

Martin mentally prepared jet of sperms hitting the back of his throat. He felt feaverish and ready to pass out. But not before he ejacurated from the experienced hand administration from Alex.

At the point of climax, Henry pressed the back of Martin's head firmly, pressing his cock deeply in Martin's throat, and froze for a several seconds as he emptied himself in Martin.

Martin experienced the first orgasm brought about by another person's hand. His jizm landed safely on Alex's ample breasts.

<b><i>Click</i></b>

*
11 p.m.

"Is that the pilot?" asked Keith, pointing a finger at a naked well-muscled man snorting coke whilest he fucked a slim blond in missionary position.

"Oh, him? Oh, yes. Don't worry. He'll be clean while he's on the job," reassured Henry, standing among the lads, all equally naked.

Surrounding them was grand hedonistic orgy cum coke fest. Everyone was fucking anything that moved in sight while snorting white lines every fifteen minutes or so, their need for the powder increasing more and more as they fucked their brains out.

"I want one of them," JJ was saying to Jude, pointing at two young model type women eating each other's pussies.

"Nah, I had the one on top the last time. Her cunt gapes and her lips flip-flops. The one on her back don't do guys." Jude up-dated.

"What a waste of space, she is, then," JJ made an assesment on the dyke. "What about her? She look well tasty."

"Oh, she's great," informed Henry, though himself was no longer interested female sex. "She and her daughter together would be quite a remarkable experience."

"Oi! Take you hands off my arse, you fag!" Keith warned the well toned man who pinched Keith's cheek as he passed him. "Fucking twat! I'll fucking deck you!" The man put his hands up and backed off.

<i>Clink Clink Clink</i> Sound of a knife clinking a crystal glass.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, please, pay attention for a moment!" Henry Jr. in his birthday suit announced to the crowd.

Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at Henry, Alex, and Martin. Alex and Martin were equaly nude too, but in addition, the boy was wearing a black, spiked dog collor around his slim neck and it was connected to a leash in Alex's hand.

"Good evening, everyone," Alex began, "I do not wish to interupt the fun everone's been having, but I have an announcement to make. To cut to the chase, this boy is my new project, and tonight, he's our cum-bucket. Please make sure to empty your sperm in the boy's mouth as many times as possible. The man how made the most visit to the cum-bucket will win the right to deflower this young thing. So, let's begin the conpetition!"

With that, Martin was led to the centre of the hall, and made to kneel.

"Boy, is he fucked," Keith commented on the fate of Martin.

"Well, I suppose the natural conclusion to the night would be the rape of an inocent boy, wouldn't it?" JJ added.

"I was sort of hoping for some phisical violence on women without actually raping them."

"If you've read this far, I would think you are not a straight man." Henry mused, sagely.

"Either a faggort or closet gay," Keith said, disgustedly.

"There is nothing wrong with being gay," JJ said reassuredly.

"It's possible it's a woman," Jude said, momenterily stoping sucking Henry's cock.

"But, she wouldn't be a waste of space dyke," Keith, bord, yet observant. "Oh, here we go. The first load."

A rather over-weight, middle aged man was jerking his pussy juice covered cock over Martin's face.

Martin's eyes were closed tightly in expectation of hot, sticky eruption of sperm any seconds. Alex was there with him, her slender fingers keeping Martin's mouth open.

"Ohoooo-gahhh!" the man emptied his load aiming at the gaping mouth, but mostly missing, his white jizm painting Martin's face. A shot entered Martin's right nostril.

And it kept coming and coming. One after the another.

"Swallow it, cum-bucket. Swallow it!" Alex was covered in male cum likewise, but not on her face. Her nipples her hard and covered in drying sperm.

"I think I'm ready, Jude, my good man." Jude released Henry's cock and the old man went to shoot his spunk on Martin's face.

"Fuck, my jaw hurts!" Jude massaged his jaw muscle.

"No wonder sucking his cock for forty minutes," JJ laughed.

"Would it be to much if I pissed on lady Alex?" Keith pondered out loud.

"Ask her husband," Jude suggested, still massaging his jaw.

"Ack, forget it. I'll piss in this champaign bottle."

"Can we try fitting a champaign bottle up the cum-bucket's arse?" Jude wondered around.

"And then pounding his gut, breaking it inside his shithole." Keith had no trouble being needlessly violent towards another man.

 

[comp|icity]

Re: Re: Writing NOW Thread

What are you currently working on?

Ch 4 of Descent (follow the link in my sig -shameless plug )

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?

Not too bad, although this chapter's taken longer than most. Trying to get the balance to appeal to those that want the insight into the mind, the feelings and the characters, and those that want a little less conversation, little more action.

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

Definitely short stories. I do this to relax, unwind, as a laugh, so short bursts are best. I tend to write with a camera in mind, so I guess I see the parts in my story as different clips that could go into a movie trailer or something. Of course put them all together and it's becoming a bigger story.

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

I definitely try and understand what might be going on inside someone's head when doing this stuff, its a way for me to explore different aspects of eroticism, push the boundaries in fantasy land

What do you plan to write next?

Probably chapter 5. Although I'm thinking of coming up with new titles 'cos I think people are more willing to read if they don't think they have 4 previous chapters to catch up on.



I also have a question to add if I may...

Do you consider the audience when writing, and if so how does this effect what you write?

To answer for myself see question 2 above.
But I have a theory that there are two different sets of readers thinkers and doers. i.e. those that want the plot, character etc. and say leave the explicit details of the actual sex to me thanks; and those who want to jump straight into the action 'cos they're horny and want to get off. Not sure if it is possible to appeal to both at the same time. But I've been thinking if ways to try and do this. Maybe two versions of the same story told from different perspectives...? any thoughts..

 

[Liar]

What are you currently working on?

For Lit: Diving into my fascination with east asian pop culture with a story that will probably end up in Erotic Couplings. Or Interracial, but I find that whole category quite silly, and since my story is not about the token prissy white princess getting sluttified by hung-like-horse token black dude, it would be quite out of place there anyway. I'm also fiddling a bit with my Olympic story.

Other stuff: Converting a comedy stageplay into English.

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?
It is never flowing well when I write prose.

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?
I like novels, because it allows a story to take on the kind of shape and pace that I like. I also write alot on playscript form, which would convert to apprx novellas, pace wise. I try to write more and more short stories, because it is easier to find readers to those.

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?
Defrinitely. I'm as much an actor as a writer and I take the role of my characters and improvise what they end up saying and how they react to different situations.

What do you plan to write next?
Fucked if I know

 

[Guest]

Re: Re: Re: Writing NOW Thread

I also have a question to add if I may...

Do you consider the audience when writing, and if so how does this effect what you write?

To answer for myself see question 2 above.
But I have a theory that there are two different sets of readers thinkers and doers. i.e. those that want the plot, character etc. and say leave the explicit details of the actual sex to me thanks; and those who want to jump straight into the action 'cos they're horny and want to get off. Not sure if it is possible to appeal to both at the same time. But I've been thinking if ways to try and do this. Maybe two versions of the same story told from different perspectives...? any thoughts..

Interesting. I think I tend to appeal to both with my stories (the later ones at least, and not including the most recent "humour" story). The feedback certainly reflects that.

I include build up and a little of getting to know the characters and their motivations, before launching into the hot sex scene(s).

However, I don't do this with the audience in mind, it's just the way I write and enjoy writing.

Lou

 

[MLyons]

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

During intense moments in the story, I make myself live through the character. If a character is handcuffed in a chair about to get their ass fucked, I go get on a chair, stuff my hands behind my back and pretend I'm handcuffed and think about what it would be like to about to get ass fucked. After that, my body takes care of the reactions for me. I simply get up, go to the computer and write them down.

If a character in my story is about to have a huge orgasm, I vocalize to myself what her voice would sound like... say what she would say given the context of the encounter. I simply take note of my body's physical reactions as I imagine it happening to me, then translate that as best I can through the filter of what it would be like ot ACTUALLY be there, and then just write it down.

Obviously you can't do everything your chracters do, but a little imagination and a few phsyical cues can take you a long way....

Research (even if it's only asking friends about their experiences or insights) is as much a part of good erotica as it is a part of any other kind of writing, I think.

The rest is in the editing.

 

[Guest]

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

During intense moments in the story, I make myself live through the character. If a character is handcuffed in a chair about to get their ass fucked, I go get on a chair, stuff my hands behind my back and pretend I'm handcuffed and think about what it would be like to about to get ass fucked. After that, my body takes care of the reactions for me. I simply get up, go to the computer and write them down.

If a character in my story is about to have a huge orgasm, I vocalize to myself what her voice would sound like... say what she would say given the context of the encounter. I simply take note of my body's physical reactions as I imagine it happening to me, then translate that as best I can through the filter of what it would be like ot ACTUALLY be there, and then just write it down.

Obviously you can't do everything your chracters do, but a little imagination and a few phsyical cues can take you a long way....

The rest is in the editing.

Did it just get hot in here? Your first paragraph there really got to me.

I tend to do the same things, but in my mind, not physically. I remember what it felt like when I did a similar thing, then transfer those thoughts and feelings into my characters.

When writing about something I have never experienced - like the events in a horror novel - I get right inside the character's heads and try to determine what they'd do, or how they'd react to a given situation.

Thanks for your input. Much appreciated.

Lou

 

[comp|icity]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Writing NOW Thread

Originally posted by Tatelou

However, I don't do this with the audience in mind, it's just the way I write and enjoy writing.

Lou [/B]

Yeah I think you're right, maybe I'm thinking too much about this.

My stories posted so far have just been done because of the way I like to write and the sort of thing I like to read. I wasn't expecting feedback, but when I got it I got really excited about it and thats when I started thinking about the motivations of the readers.

I think I should just remember that I'm doing this for my enjoyment afterall.

.

 

[seasparks]

What are you currently working on?

A non erotic fantasy romance novel called "The Bard's Tale"
and in between sessions writing that, I am working on a couple of more poems and 2 erotic short stories



Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?


The novel almost seems to be writing itself. Flowing easily. The poems and the short stories are the sticking points.

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

Novellas and novels are my forte, but I have found that writing short stories is challenging and a heck of a lot of fun.


Now for my question.

How many of you have written stories in genres that you would never have written in of not for Lit?

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

Sometimes, it depends on the story. In the case of my last rwo novels, I found myself dreaming about the characters. This enabled me to add new insights into their personalities and how they reacted to various situations.

What do you plan to write next?

A sexual parody of the old Sword & Sorcery genre. "Gonad the Ballbarian."

 

[sirhugs]

Re: Re: Re: Writing NOW Thread

Cheers for that!

You're right, it does not pay to let a longer piece stall. If I do that, I find I lose momentum and often, interest. Keep at it, that's the key.

Unless I decide it is, in fact, crap. Then I leave it for a while and might go back to it. Otherwise I move on to something else.

Lou

Be careful what you cheer for. Notice I described my novella as "silly". When I read your "over the top" entry for the contest, I wondered if you had read my work in progress and were copying my style.

 

[Guest]

Re: Re: Re: Re: Writing NOW Thread

Be careful what you cheer for. Notice I described my novella as "silly". When I read your "over the top" entry for the contest, I wondered if you had read my work in progress and were copying my style.

LOL! Poor you.

No, seriously, I meant "Cheers" as in the Britishism, meaning "Thanks". Although, I always cheer for your work.

This language barrier can be such a tough thing to get around.

Lou

 

[ABSTRUSE]

Hey, we're all authors, right (or pretend to be, sometimes - as is my case), and what more do we like to do than writing? Talk about ourselves and our writing, of course!

So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to start up a new list/talk about ourselves thread.

What are you currently working on?

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

What do you plan to write next?

I'll answer my own questions soon, and if anybody wants to add some more, please do!

Lou

I have several things going on now, I think I have ADD and can't concentrate on which one I want to finish first.

I like short stories, I don't think I have it in me at this time to further punish the reading public.

I think of my characters as real when I write, I create them, give them flesh and bones in my mind, their personalities come out more as I "listen" to their dialogue. They are real to me at any given time. Or else I'm hearing voices.

My next project will be probably my obituary, since no one else will get it right.

 

[Bizkit_Writer]

Hey, we're all authors, right (or pretend to be, sometimes - as is my case), and what more do we like to do than writing? Talk about ourselves and our writing, of course!

So, I thought I'd take this opportunity to start up a new list/talk about ourselves thread.

What are you currently working on?

Is it flowing well, or do you find yourself stalling?

What do you prefer to write? Short stories? Longer pieces (novellas)? Or, novels?

When really engrossed in a story, do you find yourself living through your characters, if only for a short while?

What do you plan to write next?

I'll answer my own questions soon, and if anybody wants to add some more, please do!

Lou

1. I am working on a story that might turn out to be good!
2. Flowing? maybe course the only thing I see flowing now is my air conditioner.
3. Whatever inspires me I write either long or short.
4. I feel my characters out and try to form them the best I can, I try not to be engrossed but sometimes I do!
5. Next? Who the hell knows, maybe a continuation of one of my stories I have on Lit I don't know..

 

[Lucifer_Carroll]

What are you writing NOW

Bad checks.

Later when I'm done eviling and maybe get some sleep, I'll work on the fourth chapter of The Loser as well as continue working on my Creature's Guide to Having Sex with Humans and possibly something else as well. I'm capricious when it comes to these things.

Flowing, who knows, probably. I'll get to that rock when I crash into it.

Prefer to write: Everything but damned non-fiction. Novels, plays, poems, short stories, novellas, you name it.

When engrossed: No, I don't live characters but I do fall in love with them. I still love desperately every character in all three of my plays.

Write next: see above

Audience: The audience can go fuck themselves. I'll include hot sex scenes and I'll likely have at least one in every chapter and story I write here. Beyond that, the audience counts for nothing. And in the real world, I will never tailor write crap just so the "masses" will pay me the big 'uns.

 

[kinky shy girl]

Great thread, lou...

Writing now...the thousandth update on my resume.

Writing next...working on a poem, either a haiku or cinquain. I've lost the energy to write fiction. I have some ideas in the back of my mind, but the writing's not flowing.

Prefer to write: Eh, whatever works. I don't have the focus to write a novel.