To be honest, I am not going to complete my challenge. Twelve blogs was just too lofty a goal with everything else going on. I probably should have just challenged myself to eat twelve Taco Time burritos, or touch twelve breasts, or cause twelve people to gasp aloud due to a timely cloud of flatulence.
Okay, none of those would have been successful either.
Just for giggles, I have decided to try the semi-common 50 Word Writing Challenge. I have done this once before, and I thought the miniature stories were at least interesting. This time I am going to add in another element: erotica. Each story is going to try and thrust some erotic, romantic, or pornographic context into those fifty words. I also guarantee these stories were not written ahead of time.
And I just realized I said I would “thrust” in some romance. Awesome.
Snow melted through her jeans as Marcus pressed down upon her, one hand tugging her graying hair and one upon her right breast. A frost cloud formed just before their lips met, and she shifted her hips to entice him to move one hand between her thighs. Marcus happily complied.
He looked at her repaired foot, now missing the big toe. “May I play with it?”
“No. Please stop looking at it.”
He kissed her ankle, “Okay.” He kissed her knee and then her thigh, “I’m sure I can find fun somewhere else.” She sighed in pleasure as he did.
He stroked her hair as her head slowly bobbed up and down, her tongue caressing his shaft. She looked up at him, somehow smiling with only her brown eyes.
“Faster,” he moaned.
She ignored him, continuing her slow seduction. One finger stroked his base, and he came hard and hot.
The kiss was fierce, as the hidden desire was finally unleashed. No more illusions and no more hiding, it was heat and lightning and strength. As Sarah pulled away, she licked the Cherry Cola balm now on her lips. Meredith smiled, took Sarah’s hand, and pulled her to the bed.
That was more difficult and taxing than I imagined it would be. And why did my brain start every title with the letter “S?” No, there is no lover whose name starts with that letter… I have a “D” and a “C” (Hi Cheri!), no “S.” Perhaps in the past there was an “S,” but believe me when I say she was not on mind at all during that exercise. I imagine she would have enjoyed those little stories though.
“S” must stand for Santa. As in, “Please Santa, make sure this Christmas is filled with concupiscence for all my friends, family, and readers.” ‘Tis the season of love, and physical love counts, right? I really think I need my wife to come home soon and to plan a trip out to Nebraska sooner rather than later… I have a powerful urge to express my love.