Beyond the Profile Post

Whilst I can happily say I rail against the size in characters of the Wall posts they do often focus a piece.

Though not sure if everyone else is the same, I find I can either juggle it to fit, which could lose a bit of feeling or there is no way in hell it's going to go :rolleyes:
 
Lupine said:
Whilst I can happily say I rail against the size in characters of the Wall posts they do often focus a piece.

Though not sure if everyone else is the same, I find I can either juggle it to fit, which could lose a bit of feeling or there is no way in hell it's going to go :rolleyes:
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The restrictions are unfortunate as it changes the piece.
An artist can ruin his work if someone doesn't take his brush away.

Or use two posts to retain the integrity, content and flow.
 
After the Little Death

I love the loving moonlight
warm on my shoulder,
your belly, our thighs

as we turn from loving
to admire our bodies
blanketed in curving silver sheets

entwined as the moon arcs higher
taking us in her gaze to sail
luminous meadows to dawn.
 
xyzrp said:
@Sextape99 contribute here. I think you'll do great.
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" MACRO 13 "
exhausted, and tired is how this place begins as i subconsciously find my its resting place like a a compass naturally finds its way to north and south. Quietly I sit for only a moment while my robot hands perfectly and precisely find all the tools.
Now, everything in its place I inhale long --so not to go too faast or too slow. A moment passes , not too soon just before i exhale my index finger is trained on the reomte and makes the selection for MACRO 13 . Knowing that i only have abot 45 seconds before the transformation i must hurry to inhale once more--- now holding in my breath until it begins..
Across the room I hear something and then the curtains draw automaticly and the lights dimm todarkness now the only thing i see are random small lights on electronics across the room and i exhale .
One by one, the monitors on the wall light up and through the smokey haze they come to life--- each displaying a combogulation of meters, guages, graphs, and charts--- transforming endlessly untill each one finds its pre destined mark... then the music begins and thats my Que to throw the EZ-chair in recline! i can make out all of the THX certified 9 speakers perfectly placed and perfectly tuned-- my trained ear easily makes adustments via monitor 3 ---
The screens continue to dance before me endlessly changing---- a trip to the kitchen to make a drink and then back aboard the space ship--- I love this Room
 
You're talented. I have one erotic short scenario that
I'd share if you'd like to read it. But rather not share it widely, at least not yet. Would appreciate Options for sending/posti ng
 
I appreciate the opportunity here to read and be read. Thanks all.
_____

last light

somewhere at the last light we saw
the rain held in a street lamp’s aura
and farther down the darkened street
a puddle caught the rippling of stars

once we were the saints of predawn days
chasing heaven in the night with cries
like the promise of loss in your eyes
in your eyes the lost promise of romance

once there was a heaven in the night when
the moonlight shed her skirt to dance on sand
and something that we thought would last
chased us green and dying into the past
 
Okay i like this but a little confused on if it's a piece or a poem. Mainly because of the style it could fit either.

You need to look at the two lines where you've said In your eyes. Repeating it right after the other time makes the flow break..
 
Appreciate the feedback. I found this spontaneous writing in a notebook. Like it. And it's current relevance in my life. Wondered if it has legs as a poem.
 
Always a pleasure and honour to help another writer. Often as well things are subjective they only mean somrsomet to the writer. Whilst great if we don't engage an audience then we're missing a trick..

I think it has legs as a poem. Find a way to swap those two lines and I think it'll be fine. It doesn't need locking down or I think it would really lose the sentiment of the piece..
 
As requested by @ThalassaBabe . A repeat from a posting elsewhere on this site.

The Lover’s Tryst

This day was not much different than any other day. But it had been their day. She was thinking about him all through work, and was looking forward to their limited time together that evening. It was difficult for her to concentrate, knowing they would be meeting once again. As a consultant, his work had kept him out of town often, but they had always made an effort to meet on this particular day – no matter where they were. The trials and challenges of life had created this distance between them, but it never hindered their forbidden love. Through lunch, her mind was racing – remembering some of the moments they shared together. After all these years, just the thought of him could still arouse her, and she was getting anxious. Minutes seemed like hours as the day dragged on until finally it was time to leave the office.

With her workday behind her, she arrived home quickly, and started to prepare for the evening. As she showered, her mind continued to play through all the passionate moments that they had shared in the past. The water washed away all the pains of the day and soothed her muscles. She finished quickly and started to get dressed, not wanting to be late. She had already selected the evening’s attire the night before. She would wear his favorite blouse - the one that always seemed to catch his eye. With a smile, she admired how she looked as she put on her makeup, followed by a spritz of his favorite perfume. Her preparations however, were continually distracted as she watched the clock, not wanting to be late for their meeting.

She left the house quietly, unnoticed. She knew the meeting place, and fortunately, didn’t have to worry about being late. She was proud of how quickly she could be prepared and ready, as if she had it down to an art. She was his and loved that feeling.

When she arrived, she stepped out of the car and was met with the cool autumn breeze kissing her face. Perhaps the hot shower had made her skin more sensitive to the outside temperature. Perhaps it was the anticipation or just the bitter wind that caused a tear to form on the corner of her eyelid. She could hear the rustling of the leaves blowing in the wind, though she walked briskly to meet him again in silence. And there he was, in the same spot as always. She bent down in front of him, and with a bittersweet smile, reached out to caress his name, etched in the stone, and she remembered.
 
@Lupine, thanks so much for starting this wonderful thread. Together with the B&W erotica thread, I may have finally found a few happy places on this forum.

I hope everyone keeps posting and feeding my little soul :)

Edit: and yes, the sexy anarchy thread too!
 
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ThalassaBabe said:
@Lupine, thanks so much for starting this wonderful thread. Together with the B&W erotica thread, I may have finally found a few happy places on this forum.

I hope everyone keeps posting and feeding my little soul :)

Edit: and yes, the sexy anarchy thread too!
Click to expand...

Pleasure is all mine and I hope people keep posting stuff. I'm not very good as posting erotic elements myself. It's not my direction when I write.

And if anyone needs tips, help or such and they don't want to ask publicly. I don't mind a PM.
 
(I shared this privately - a bit shy with putting it out here; first attempt at a erotica vignette)
____________

The Office Visit

We are sitting about five feet from each other. You are wearing sandals with thin black leather straps and your toenails are as red as your lipstick.

You are sitting at a slight turn, with your left leg crossed above your right, and you are wearing a short black leather skirt—short enough that I can see from all the way up the left leg’s well toned calf to where one knee rests on the other, then farther up your leg to your thigh, both firm and supple with a voluptuous swell.

My eyes travel up the bottom of that smooth thigh to where I can just see it begin the transition into the roundness of your ass, and I wish I could see just a little bit farther to the hem of your panties—but I can’t.

But on the outside I can see the rounding of your hips, accentuated very nicely, pushing against the tight skirt.

Your white blouse is tucked into the skirt’s waistline, where the top of your pelvis narrows to define the lower half of your hourglass figure.

The blouse is thin, almost diaphanous, so that I can just make out the bra underneath—a lacy bra with two low scoops that hold breasts full and round, and I see the hint of nipples poking where they meet the tight material.

It’s a button blouse with the top three buttons undone so that the blouse opens casually to either side, as if with a calculated carelessness. The upper half of those round breasts rise up from that opening and squeeze together at an enticing line. Those mounds look proud and soft as clouds.

When you bend forward to pick a book from your bag, I can gaze farther down the cleavage. The breasts sway just barely with your motion, and as you fiddle in the bag I can see the exposed flesh jiggle slightly, and I spy the lacy top of the bra that ends just above the nipples.

You rise back upright and give a sensuous shake to your hair—long, black, laced in blue highlights and sexily disheveled from your bend forward. The hair settles in flowing waves to frame your face. Your eyes are big and brown, languid and just a bit dreamy. They look out at me from beneath big black eyelashes under thin and slightly arched brows.

You have caught me sneaking a peek down your blouse, and your carmine lips—lusciously full and pouty—widen almost imperceptibly into a Mona Lisa smile. Your eyes linger on mine just long enough to make me a little uncomfortable, and some glimmer in them reveals your amusement.

When you rise to leave, I look forward to watching you turn, walk out the door and down the hall—slowly, I hope, because I expect that tight skirt is going to show off an ass in seductive sway, well worth showing off.
 
Nice piece but you should have a play with it. Try and avoid starting with the same word, in your case You. Change it a little.

So..

You have caught me sneaking a peek down your blouse

To..

I notice that you have caught etc..

But the piece has the right elements.
 
Bit of a rambling idea and an old piece as well. When I write I try and put some emotion into the piece so that it makes people think or draw them into it, even put themselves in the place of one of the characters..

We’ve had a great day, playing in the sea, soaking up the sun and just messing about. Now it’s dark, the sound of the see gently wafts across the beach as the fire start to warm up. Earth smells of pine and hazel fill the area as small thinks like toast is cooked.

Even though we’ve been talking the silence is nice, we don’t always need to chat. I look over at you trying to push your hair out of your face all frizzy from the water and sun. Smiling I see you’ve noticed me and smile more.

“What?”

“Nothing, you know till you have a shower it won’t make it any better.”

“This is your fault you know that, right?”

“I do, but I hope you enjoyed it?”

“I did thanks, it’s been fun and your sweet to bring me all the way here for a day at the beach..”

“You’ve never been and I love it, so what a good way to combine thing’s.”

Watching you I can feel my pulse quicken, my mind just remembers friendly glances, soft touches and yearns for it to mean so much more.

“You okay?”

“Sorry, was daydreaming.”

“Is that right, was she good?”

Smiling I shake my head sitting up saying nothing in case I say the right thing. Noticing your rubbing your arms I grab the blanket and wander over o you. Kneeling by your side. Reaching around you I pull you in closer to me.

Feeling you shift I can feel the warmth of your skin on mine you face so very close. Reaching up I can’t resist the urge to move an errant strand of hair from your eyes.

“Why did you do that?”

“I wanted to see your eyes.”

“It's dark.”

“I know but like many things, I know what they look like even if I can’t see them.”

“Many things like?”

“Like how your face looks when you smile, like how your body shape is and how you feel when we play and touch or I try to dance with you.”

“Oh, those things.”

“But we agreed that this is all friendship and nothing would come of it.”

“But you’re saying a little more now aren’t you.”

Instead of saying anything I just lean my head in a little closer, our lips so close but not touching. My hand reaches up to hold your head. Eyes on eyes the need to just lean in that little further and taste your lips a little more than I want. But I also know everything will be different.

Leaning in I feel our lips touch, the gentleness of it fits, I hear your murmur as well. No resistance as we melt into each other kisses becoming more frantic with each second. Moving into you I feel you just melt moving with me to the beach, your arms around my neck, fingers in my hair as we kiss….
 
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