I’ve made myself little commitment, or challenge, to get back on the writing horse. I promised myself I’d spend 15 minutes a day, every day this month, writing. It may not be erotica, but it’ll be creative. It may also be junk, so not everything I produce will end up here. Plus, it’s always possible, even preferable, that several or many of these sessions will string together into or become part of something more substantial. As it is, my first effort produced a little 200-word scenelet that I’m going to share here, for the sheer joy of having gotten something down I don’t hate. –M
I laid my hands on her shoulders and pushed, gently. The last gentle thing I would be able to manage for some time. Her lips came off my cock with a long, agonizingly good slurp that made me growl and shake with the effort not to grab her head and shove myself back into her mouth, down her throat.
She looked up at me with that look. Almost as far gone as me, wanton and needy. But she has this little smile, too. It says “what now, mister man?” and “I bet I know.” Of course she knows.
I slid my hands inward, thumbs and forefingers almost circling her neck, and it was her turn to shudder. I did’t have to tell her what to do. One of her hands had been holding my shaft for her mouth, while the other was groping my ass. Now she brought both to my cock, holding it like the hilt of a sword as she shimmied to the edge of the bed. Legs opening wide, and wider, taught tendons and muscles, and the shine of wet cunt became my focus. My fingers flexed as she pulled me in.
What now? We know what.