Serve It Up Hot and Steamy!

[Revoltingest]

Thank you! I like to write.

So do I, but my experience is in descriptions of control systems & machinery.....& abusive limericks.

 

[Sunstone]

Within a few minutes of Ezra's return home -- he'd gone to fetch his alarmingly well-starched rhinestone-encrusted thongs from the Lucky Suck Chinese laundry -- Ezra felt the by now familiar stirrings of his insatiable sexual lust for Stefanie.

Stealthily, and without asking her consent, he approached her from behind as she bent over to pick up yet another spent and lifeless, size D battery that had been carelessly strewn on the floor. "Maybe I should power my butterfly crotch vibrator with house current", Stef was thinking as Ezra, cat-like, approached her unguarded butt.

Ezra pounced suddenly and rudely upon her. Before she could respond, he'd inconsiderately ripped her favorite skirt into three pieces, and had thrust down her panties with his strong and demanding teeth. "I must have the friendship of your upper thighs", he uttered in a voice clearly choked with passion.

Within moments, Ezra was pumping away as forcibly, rapidly, and mindlessly as a pneumatic jackhammer.

Again -- once again! -- Stefanie willed herself to call upon her deepest emotional reserves in order to forgive his appalling callousness. "It's just his way of saying, 'Hello'.", she stubbornly reminded herself for, perhaps, the twelfth time that day.

Yet, deep within, Stefanie had begun to feel sexual discontent with the couple's three year old affair. Then, unexpectedly, something inside her finally snapped. "I've got it!", she was suddenly suffused with hope, "I'll marry him. Surely, that will take the zing out of his zipper!"

 

[Draka]

Okay, wrote something out, but then cut it short as am sure would be edited anyway.

.....

Michael had just dried off from his shower and hadn't even gotten dressed yet when somehow Vicky made her way into the bathroom. He didn't even bother to try to grab for the towel again, too late for that.

"I thought I locked that."

"You did." Her head tilted to the side a bit and she smirked. "Not too hard to remedy."

"What do you want?"

"What do you think?"

"With you? I never seem to know."

"Everyone else in the house is out for the night. Guess they decided to go to some party or something. It's just the two of us...finally." She bit her bottom lip.

He'd always found Vicky the most interesting of all his roommates in this huge house, but this...this was entirely unexpected. She stood there, tilted her head to the other side, blonde wavy hair tumbling over her shoulder, and she gave this sort of giggle as she held out her hand.

"Well, come on then." She said, as if he knew what was going on and should have already been moving...let alone the fact that he was stark naked still.

He moved to grab for his clothes.

"Oh no, you won't be needing those." Her hand still outstretched, "Now come on."

Okaaaay, he thought, and took her hand.

Vicky slowly guided Michael into her room with a look of pure mischief on her face. As they entered the room and his eyes adjusted to the candlelight coming from the many placed all around the spacious room, they widened as they fell upon her bed. Completely stripped of all blankets, there was just a black satin bottom sheet and what appeared to be tie down restraints attached to the legs of the bed and brought up resting at each corner. On one nightstand there was a can of whipped cream.

"You want me to tie you up?" He said in a sligthly broken voice, with a little surprise, but a smile none-the-less.

"No hun, I'm not the one being tied up here..." her soft voice now took on authority as she grinned, "Now get on the bed."

He knew there was a reason she was interesting. Onto the bed he went.

As he lay there, arms and legs outstretched she methodically went around him and carefully secured his ankles and wrists. By the time she finished he felt quite on display. Though he expected it was a nice display, he was no slouch in appearances. Still though, this was quite different. She then proceeded to strip very slowly. Her shirt unbuttoned to reveal the fact that she wore no bra. Her breasts were beautiful. Smaller in size, but oh so firm and how badly he'd love to lick those dark pink tips. Take them in his teeth and flick his tongue across them until she couldn't stand it any longer. They seemed to stand at attention and call to him. Her shorts were next to fall and reveal, much like the shirt, that she wore nothing beneath. Good God she was stunning.

Vicky moved to the bedside table and opened the drawer. From it she removed something he didn't quite see at first, but as she closed the drawer and moved towards him he suddenly realized what she held...a
blindfold.

....

To be continued here

 

[BeckyRose1998]

Jennel couldn't take it anymore. She wanted Jeremy. It was the perfect time. They were both alone in the front room. No one else was expected to be for another 3 hours. Jennel scooted closer to Jeremy.
Jeremy cut his eyes to her. "Yes, Jennel?"
Jennel smiled sensually. Then she stood up and sat on his lap. Jeremy stared with a puzzled look. Jeremy had never seen Jennel act this way before. Before he could ask what she was doing, Jennel laid and passionate kiss on his delicate lips.
Jeremy stared in disbelief. Did she really just kiss him?
Jennel grinned and cocked her head to the right side. "Jeremy?"
"Yes?"

 

[Sunstone]

She was tapping her foot again. Tapping it furiously. And it annoyed her all the more to discover it.

She had always tapped her foot when she was angry. She had always tried to break herself of the habit. She had always failed. "The problem isn't me this time", she reminded herself, "It's Theodore. I must think of him, and not my tapping. Why, why must he always fall asleep during foreplay?"

It was true. Despite four years of marriage, they had yet to consummate. Theodore had not once stayed awake through foreplay. But was the problem really hers? She had begun to wonder in recent months.

She mentally walked through the most recent time they'd tried sex, step by step, and could find nothing she'd done wrong. "What am I over-looking? I must be over-looking something", she thought.

But no ideas came to her. She could find no flaw in herself.

Sadly, almost despairingly, she returned to her preparations for that night. "This time", she resolved, "I shall succeed in getting him too excited to fall asleep." Carefully, she picked up her dog-eared copy of her favorite romance novel, Savage Love.

Then, in preparation, she began reading aloud from it's most steamy passages, trying hard to put as much passion in her voice as was possible for her.

"Tonight I must not fail", she thought, "Tonight, when I read aloud to Theodore, I must make my voice so exciting that this time -- this time! -- he won't fall asleep during our foreplay readings."

 

[Brickjectivity]

They met by chance while searching through a hardware store. He needed a few screws. She was just looking for a tool; but they both found more, then they were expecting. They decided to try living together. They tested a few beds and snatched some hardwood on the cheat and went home to practice patching up their vacancy and also erected numerous projections out on the balcony. When they felt hungry they headed out to pick up some hot buns, then returned to their chosen love nest. It was a beautiful day but also a tiring day as they struggled hammer and nail to consummate their plans. At last the shadows grew long and the twilight subtly escorted them to bed.

 

[Sunstone]

They met by chance while searching through a hardware store. He needed a few screws. She was just looking for a tool; but they both found more, then they were expecting. They decided to try living together. They tested a few beds and snatched some hardwood on the cheat and went home to practice patching up their vacancy and also erected numerous projections out on the balcony. When they felt hungry they headed out to pick up some hot buns, then returned to their chosen love nest. It was a beautiful day but also a tiring day as they struggled hammer and nail to consummate their plans. At last the shadows grew long and the twilight subtly escorted them to bed.

Love it!

 

[Penumbra]

Phil, why aren't you writing books?

You can come up with so much quality fiction so quickly, clearly due to natural talent as well as writing experience. You could spawn another career out of writing if you decided that it was what you wanted to do, I think.

 

[DallasApple]

Well I bit my lower lip til it bled already so.....and I think I cracked a couple teeth too..grinding my jaw from the sexual tension...my breasts heaved as I gasped and beads of sweat roll into my cleavage from the pain of split open lips and cracked teeth .I'm convinced I already developed an absess..a throbbing hot absess..I think its my wisdom tooth.Or it could be from being drilled before and filled up with mercury..YES that's it!

 

[Sunstone]

Phil, why aren't you writing books?

You can come up with so much quality fiction so quickly, clearly due to natural talent as well as writing experience. You could spawn another career out of writing if you decided that it was what you wanted to do, I think.

Thanks, Lyn! I thoroughly enjoy the fun you have reading my posts, especially since my take on you is that you have some pretty high standards.

I must have tried three or four times over the years to write book length fiction. But each time, I've encountered some problems.

First, I have an appalling inability to come up with engaging plots.

Next, my imagination sprints well enough, but it hasn't the endurance for long distance running. I could most likely write a book-length biography, so long as I knew my subject well enough, but book-length fiction seems beyond my inventiveness.

Third, I have a huge problem sustaining an interest in things -- both in writing and in larger life, too. There have been a few crucial exceptions to that rule, of course, but could I spend a year writing a book? Seems to me that effort would be just as likely to fail as a father's hopes for his daughter's chastity on prom night.

Last, even if I could manage to work around, over, under, or through those three problems, I think I might still need a muse. Silly as that sounds, I really do think I would need someone I loved so passionately that I was inspired to write the book for her. This last point is, so far as I can see, the most crucial one. The others might be surmountable.

You wouldn't happen to know of any currently unemployed muses, would you? If so, you might try telling her that I'm not an especially inhumane man. For instance, I would quite humanely promise my muse never to inflict death and destruction upon her intestines by cooking for her.

 

[JiSe]

They had med trough on-line service organized by their hometown. And it was love at the first sight, but she was constantly under spotlight, and would not be alone with him, so they had yet to consummate their love, or was it love?

He had been protecting her during the hard winter, he had watched as muscular men took their way with her, and lied to her he didn't mind that. What had she done for him? Nothing! That was about to chance, the spotlight was gone and now she was all his.

He kissed the tip of her womanhood, all red and
dripping with moisture, he tried not to think about those others he had seen going down on her; he set his tongue and experienced fingers on her most intimate parts, slowly loosening her up. As she became looser he could feel the pressure mounting inside her, soon it would be released! Rushing water hit him hard into face and knocked him on his back to the pavement. Laying there the euphoria of what had just happened mixed with the pain as he slowly drifted into darkness.

 

[Penumbra]

Thanks, Lyn! I thoroughly enjoy the fun you have reading my posts, especially since my take on you is that you have some pretty high standards.

I must have tried three or four times over the years to write book length fiction. But each time, I've encountered some problems.

First, I have an appalling inability to come up with engaging plots.

Next, my imagination sprints well enough, but it hasn't the endurance for long distance running. I could most likely write a book-length biography, so long as I knew my subject well enough, but book-length fiction seems beyond my inventiveness.

Third, I have a huge problem sustaining an interest in things -- both in writing and in larger life, too. There have been a few crucial exceptions to that rule, of course, but could I spend a year writing a book? Seems to me that effort would be just as likely to fail as a father's hopes for his daughter's chastity on prom night.

Last, even if I could manage to work around, over, under, or through those three problems, I think I might still need a muse. Silly as that sounds, I really do think I would need someone I loved so passionately that I was inspired to write the book for her. This last point is, so far as I can see, the most crucial one. The others might be surmountable.

You wouldn't happen to know of any currently unemployed muses, would you? If so, you might try telling her that I'm not an especially inhumane man. For instance, I would quite humanely promise my muse never to inflict death and destruction upon her intestines by cooking for her.

Well, I figured I'd let you know that I think you definitely have the skill to do it. If other factors like desire, or attention, or things like that lead you in other directions, that's fine.

I think my problem is the opposite of yours- I have detailed book-length plots in my head (including a book trilogy actually, complete with titles) but no skill to put it into good writing. And no ability to quickly come up with jokes, stories, or things like that. It's kind of on my long to-do list to eventually try to improve my writing.

 

[Sunstone]

I think my problem is the opposite of yours- I have detailed book-length plots in my head (including a book trilogy actually, complete with titles) but no skill to put it into good writing. And no ability to quickly come up with jokes, stories, or things like that. It's kind of on my long to-do list to eventually try to improve my writing.

Would you be open to merely considering -- without at all committing yourself to anything at this point -- jointly authoring a book at some convenient time in the future? "No" is a quite acceptable answer, by the way. As for me, I think the idea would need a lot of hashing out before I would have a notion of its merits.

 

[Penumbra]

Would you be open to merely considering -- without at all committing yourself to anything at this point -- jointly authoring a book at some convenient time in the future? "No" is a quite acceptable answer, by the way. As for me, I think the idea would need a lot of hashing out before I would have a notion of its merits.

Yeah maybe one day in the future we can reveal our secret identities and team up.

I would bet, though, that we would have very different types of stories we'd want to tell.

 

[Sunstone]

Jonas had come to think of Theodora as so much like rain at a church picnic.

The sort of rain that sometimes arrives on the wind suddenly -- and that is absurdly and foolishly expected by everyone to pass over, to fall elsewhere, or to be light -- but which so absolutely drenches and chills the women in their lacy blouses that, almost at once, dark, fertile areolas and firm, raised nipples are everywhere abundant.

In short, she -- her surprising attractiveness, her unexpected seductiveness -- had become to him the sole thing on his earth with redemptive power to transform "even a boring old church picnic"; with redemptive power to transform even his life.

"I must and shall profoundly befriend her well-thatched nether regions", he thought: Recklessly assuming that Theodora, a sexually confident woman of the 21st Century, had improbably escaped an abiding obsession with Brazilian wax jobs. "But what are the obstacles? What are the challenges I face?"

He could think of no challenges.

Whatever else Theodora was, she was universally known both for her sexual generosity and for the prompt and speedy manner in which she extended her generosity to nearly one and all.

In fact, she was so inclined to performing "vast and fast" services that most men found her too demanding. Their preacher, for instance, was among those men. Though his own insatiable appetite for vanilla trysts with his choir was scandalously known to all, yet Theordora intimidated him. Naturally, she had become his anonymous model for the "heathen woman" and "harlot" that he raved against in his most passionate sermons.

Jonas removed his cellphone from his trouser pocket, where he kept it on vibrator mode for prurient reasons, and dialed Theodora's number. A number he'd found carved in one of the pews along with the legend, "For a taste of heaven, call Sister...". She answered immediately.

As he expected, her voice thrilled him with its poised and confident, but soft and feminine tones. "Oh, hi Jonas! Are you calling about the copy of Savage Love I left in your mailbox?"

"No. No, it's not that, Theo, it's...something else. Well, to get right out with it: I called because I simply can no longer control my lust to mindlessly tank you in Biblical proportions."

"I see", Theodora responded thoughtfully, her voice warm with estrogen, "I do have next Wednesday open. Would that work for you?"

"Yes, that would work fine, but Theo, there's something else you must know first." That remark was unplanned, spur of the moment. Jonas felt strangely inspired, now that he was hearing her voice, now that he was in actual contact with her, to express a thing that had suddenly welled itself up from somewhere deep inside him.

"And what could that be, Jonas?"

"I aim to put the full-on courtship on you! My chief and enduring goal is marriage."

Silence.

Jonas felt his chest shrink infinitely tight. Would he be able to choke out another word if he had to? How stupid of him! What could she possibly see in him? It came rushing to his mind and all too clearly, the insurmountable distinctions between them. She was everything! But he? What was he?

His mind raced to discover some reason, some justification, even a mere excuse that he could offer to Theodora and which would compel her to accept him.

Then, with unusual self-clarity, Jonas realized in a single moment how he had spent his entire life too apathetic to make the the best of himself, and that now he had nothing to offer Theodora -- nothing she could not easily get elsewhere.

He yearned so painfully to be a better man. Too late!

Theodora suddenly broke her silence. "But why, Jonas? Why would you want to marry me? You can have everything you want without that." Jonas immediately sensed the genuine compassion in her voice. She felt for him! But he knew she was likely to feel compassion for anyone.

Jonas began foolishly, "I can make you hap...". He stopped, brought up short by the stupidity of it. How inexcusably stupid to attempt to make Theordora believe a marriage to him was in her own best interests! As if he had something to offer her that would be so precious to her, she'd be forced to accept.

"I cannot earn you," Jonas began again, "I can never really earn you. But I wish to court you. I wish to show you how much I treasure your confidence and poise, your open-mindedness, your compassion, your independence, and a hundred other things about you. Things I've taken notice of now for months."

Jonas had surprised himself. His words had been unplanned, but far more truthful and accurate than anything he could have planned. His love for her -- the love he'd been hiding from himself until now -- had inspired radical insight and honesty.

 

[Sunstone]

Yeah maybe one day in the future we can reveal our secret identities and team up.

Something to put on the back burner.

I would bet, though, that we would have very different types of stories we'd want to tell.

Now you have intrigued me! I'm trying to think of any fiction I wouldn't enjoy writing. Not necessarily reading, but writing.

 

[Aquitaine]

John kissed Alice and she liked it.

EDIT: I'm thinking of writing a sequel BTW. :yes:

 

[Sunstone]

John kissed Alice and she liked it.

EDIT: I'm thinking of writing a sequel BTW. :yes:

How long, how long must I wait for the sequel -- you've made me unbearably hot.

 

[Aquitaine]

How long, how long must I wait for the sequel -- you've made me unbearably hot.

I'm not sure - I'm having difficulty with the whole character development thingy. I think I've overdone the main character's personalities, to the point now where they're both just so unrealistic and needy.

The sequel is more kinky though. :yes:

 

[Debater Slayer]

"I desperately need you tonight," he said, as he slowly wrapped his hands around her warm, round body. He grabbed her tighter and tighter.

"Were it not for your grace," he continued, "I would fall unconscious right this moment." His eyes scanned her corner for corner, and his nose gradually made its way closer to her.

"You have a smell of ambrosia and a clarity of the morning sky. You keep me going when all else is gone."

"It's going to be an anticlimactic night," he calmly said, as he put his hands once more on the warm cup of coffee and lifted her to his mouth for another gulp.