Love, the best way to get feedback on any given erotic/love/whatever poem is to submit it through the proper channels and expose the piece to the wider Lush community. If you need assistance with the submission process feel free to PM me.
I was in a packed elevator yesterday evening whilst leaving work. I ended up sort of pinned up against a guy, facing away from him. This is a 22 storey building, and pretty much all 2300 denizens (including myself) all leave at roughly the same time, via only eight elevators.
Point being, my ass (and the rest of me) was pushed into this guy. I realised someplace around the 7th floor that what I'd thought was his belt buckle or security badge pressing into my ass was, in fact, his very hard cock. It was a rather startling revelation. Anyway, feeling his cock through his trousers and my dress didn't do anything for me, although I felt a bit embarrassed.
I muttered "I'm sorry" as we exited the elevator. He was blushing and sort of stared at me for a second, until I turned to swipe out (this is a secure medical building). Question is, was my apology adequate? Would you, as a guy, feel embarrassed or angry if this happened to you? Or would you feel something else?
Thank you in advance for your time and consideration. ~Jennifer
Skirts, or a dress. My two pairs of jeans are buried in a bottom drawer.
Skirts, or a dress. My two pairs of jeans are buried in a bottom drawer.
This is sort of a long story.
I was ~8 years old, just recently emigrated from Canada, and was in the Girl Scouts. My mum was the cookie mum that year, so she had like 20 boxes (crates?) of Girl Scout cookies in the back of the minivan. I was outside a local grocery store, in my Brownie uniform, selling cookies. I think I'd sold around 20 boxes when an elderly, poorly dressed, scruffy man leaning heavily on a cane came up to my table. He asked me some questions, like how many boxes did I need to sell to earn a badge, how many my troop in toto had to sell to fund camping trips, etc.
My mum (not above a snide remark or seven about a person's appearance) stepped in, told him the price per box, clearly thinking that he couldn't afford even one box. Guy paused, ignored my mum, looks at me, and asked how many boxes of cookies did I have with me. I thought he meant at the table. Nope.
That scruffy, elderly gentleman ended up buying every single box of cookies I had with me, including those in the minivan. I can't remember exactly how much he spent. Upshot was, he single-handedly paid for my troop to go to Camp McCleod and participate in multiple other activities that year. He very nearly single-handedly bought all the cookies the troop had been allotted for sale.
The best part? After handing me more cash than I'd ever seen in my life, my mum asked him if he'd like help loading the cookies into his car. His answer? "I don't drive cars, and I don't eat cookies." He left us with all of the cookies--we donated them to a local food bank.
That gentleman on that day taught me more life lessons than I can count--the top two being don't judge someone by their looks, judge them by their actions, and be generous. Financially, emotionally, do things that make life a little easier for other people.
Probably 90% online--the other 10% of my purchases are from Babeland, which used to be Toys In Babeland, and now is a rather huge online presence. Anyway. The original brick-and-mortar store is in Seattle, love stopping in as it's a very woman-friendly shop.
Evening all--to those who know me, apologies for my absence, and to those I've not met, apologies for not being here to greet you. I'll have a black and tan, please, Bill. Thank you, love.
Can I get a bit of Drambuie, neat, please, Bill? It's been a bit of a rough one.
Used to be swimming and shooting, but not so much since I blew apart my left shoulder in late 2015. Now it's brisk walks with Lily and kickboxing. Just started with the latter.
I don't quite understand the question. If you want so-called "true stories" , well, we have a whole section devoted to those writings. Whether or not the stories are non-fiction, or fictionalized accounts of actual events, or pure fiction, is anyone's guess.
Otherwise, all pieces should be presumed to be fiction, and yes, sometimes fiction requires the willing suspension of disbelief.
Good Morning Vietnam. On tape. I don't know that I've ever seen a R-rated movie in a theatre.
You want nudes or otherwise explicit pictures from women because we feel sorry for you? Give us some backstory on how the knees came to be needing replacement, and hey, maybe rid yourself of that red avatar, and maybe Florence Nightingale Syndrome will kick in. Not likely, but anything can happen on Lush.
