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Wilful
Over 90 days ago
Straight Cis Male, 49
0 miles · Sydney
Forum
Devil's Advocate
Quote by Dancing_Doll
I'm a fan of the classic string bikini, but I'll do cheeky bottoms (in more of the sporty style, especially with a T-back or racerback top), depending on where I'm going/what I'm doing. I also like string tops, halters, bandeaus.
Generally, I like moderate butt-coverage.
I don't do g-strings, full thong, micro-bikinis or anything really over the top or cheesy. It's not about body confidence - it's more about personal taste and I think some of those styles can veer toward looking a little tacky, not to mention kind of non-functional if you enjoy doing more than just tanning and standing around.
My thoughts exactly. There's something to be said for leaving a little to the imagination. Save for a bit of cleavage, I don't like to see anything spilling out the sides, bottom or back. Classy sexy beats tacky sexy every single time.
Devil's Advocate
I feel you, Mate. I tend to agonise over the same paragraph, rewriting it over and over again until I eventually get the shits and walk away. But I keep coming back to it, and eventually it breaks free. Well, except for the waffle below. For the life of me, I just couldn't get this one to keep going...
I only saw his eyes open for a second. They were blue, almost as pale as mine. And the glimmer of relief that flashed in them before he let his head fall to the ice prickled my skin.
Pacing from side to side along the bank, I tried to get his attention with a series of short barks. But he just lay there in the failing purple light of dusk, not moving. He was at least two hundred yards away, across ice that was not strong enough to support my weight, let alone his. I could hear it cracking angrily from where I stood. If I didn’t help him, he was going to fall through into the freezing lake below.
Gingerly, I paced out onto the ice, spreading my paws as wide as I possibly could. The creaking protests beneath me got louder and louder with every step, forcing me to lay down to spread my one hundred twenty pound load. The cracks dulled as I slid myself across the icy surface, but they didn’t disappear entirely. Regardless, I slithered toward the injured stranger. I couldn’t just leave him there.
As I got closer, maybe fifty yards out, I could see the handle of a dagger protruding from his back. His thick, grey fur was matted with blood, and the ice too had turned crimson in front of his snout. I barked again, trying to get his attention. He flinched at the sound, but his eyes remained closed.
The smell of blood was thick in the air as I reached his unconscious body. I could see that he had sustained a number of stab wounds, all deep and angry. I nuzzled his snout and licked at his face, causing him to stir.
Please, his deep voice echoed weakly in my mind. I need your help…
Can you move? I telepathically queried.
His eyes half opened, boring directly into my own. They were filled with defeat. I…no…I’m sorry…I can’t go any farther…
Shit! I thought, suddenly becoming aware that whoever had attacked him might well be looking to finish him off. He was a big, powerful werewolf, easily twice my size. If they had done this to him, I had no chance.
There was nothing else for it. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with my teeth and began dragging him back to the shore. Despite his weight, he slipped easily on the frozen surface. We made good progress, sliding head to head across the crackling ice. I was almost in a backwards run, heaving on the tough folds of skin and fur around his neck. He tried to help between groans and spluttering bouts of coughing, but his paws ended up flailing uselessly behind him.
My hindquarters crashed painfully into the bank, causing me to tumble backwards. I kept hold of my burden, hoping that our momentum would carry him off the ice. For the most part it did. I dragged him up the slope the last few feet, his own paws finally managing to find some useful purchase in the snow-covered earth.
I transformed into my human form, instantly gasping at the freezing assault of the wind gusting across my naked flesh. Already shivering uncontrollably, I reached for the dagger sticking out of his back. I pressed my left palm firmly to his back, right beside the wound, and pushed in hard as I withdrew the blade with my other hand.
His tortured squeal chilled me to the bone.
I kept pressure on the wound, the warmth of his sticky blood seeping out from between my fingers. Our bodies trembled in unison, mine from the cold, his from painful sobs. It was heartbreaking.
When the bleeding stopped, I silently spoke to him through my touch. I need to call another of our wardens to help get you back to my post.
No! his voice boomed in my mind.
You’re too big, I soothed. I can’t get you over the ridge on my own.
They’ll hear you. He transformed into his human form, laying face down in the snow. His muscular back and broad shoulders split with four deep knife wounds. “If you help me,” he gasped, “I can walk.”
“I don’t think…”
“Help me up!” he ordered, his tone deep and commanding.
The perfect metaphor for my own writer's block as it turns out. But in reality, I left his stabbed ass for dead by the lake, and went home for a hot chocolate.
I only saw his eyes open for a second. They were blue, almost as pale as mine. And the glimmer of relief that flashed in them before he let his head fall to the ice prickled my skin.
Pacing from side to side along the bank, I tried to get his attention with a series of short barks. But he just lay there in the failing purple light of dusk, not moving. He was at least two hundred yards away, across ice that was not strong enough to support my weight, let alone his. I could hear it cracking angrily from where I stood. If I didn’t help him, he was going to fall through into the freezing lake below.
Gingerly, I paced out onto the ice, spreading my paws as wide as I possibly could. The creaking protests beneath me got louder and louder with every step, forcing me to lay down to spread my one hundred twenty pound load. The cracks dulled as I slid myself across the icy surface, but they didn’t disappear entirely. Regardless, I slithered toward the injured stranger. I couldn’t just leave him there.
As I got closer, maybe fifty yards out, I could see the handle of a dagger protruding from his back. His thick, grey fur was matted with blood, and the ice too had turned crimson in front of his snout. I barked again, trying to get his attention. He flinched at the sound, but his eyes remained closed.
The smell of blood was thick in the air as I reached his unconscious body. I could see that he had sustained a number of stab wounds, all deep and angry. I nuzzled his snout and licked at his face, causing him to stir.
Please, his deep voice echoed weakly in my mind. I need your help…
Can you move? I telepathically queried.
His eyes half opened, boring directly into my own. They were filled with defeat. I…no…I’m sorry…I can’t go any farther…
Shit! I thought, suddenly becoming aware that whoever had attacked him might well be looking to finish him off. He was a big, powerful werewolf, easily twice my size. If they had done this to him, I had no chance.
There was nothing else for it. I grabbed him by the scruff of the neck with my teeth and began dragging him back to the shore. Despite his weight, he slipped easily on the frozen surface. We made good progress, sliding head to head across the crackling ice. I was almost in a backwards run, heaving on the tough folds of skin and fur around his neck. He tried to help between groans and spluttering bouts of coughing, but his paws ended up flailing uselessly behind him.
My hindquarters crashed painfully into the bank, causing me to tumble backwards. I kept hold of my burden, hoping that our momentum would carry him off the ice. For the most part it did. I dragged him up the slope the last few feet, his own paws finally managing to find some useful purchase in the snow-covered earth.
I transformed into my human form, instantly gasping at the freezing assault of the wind gusting across my naked flesh. Already shivering uncontrollably, I reached for the dagger sticking out of his back. I pressed my left palm firmly to his back, right beside the wound, and pushed in hard as I withdrew the blade with my other hand.
His tortured squeal chilled me to the bone.
I kept pressure on the wound, the warmth of his sticky blood seeping out from between my fingers. Our bodies trembled in unison, mine from the cold, his from painful sobs. It was heartbreaking.
When the bleeding stopped, I silently spoke to him through my touch. I need to call another of our wardens to help get you back to my post.
No! his voice boomed in my mind.
You’re too big, I soothed. I can’t get you over the ridge on my own.
They’ll hear you. He transformed into his human form, laying face down in the snow. His muscular back and broad shoulders split with four deep knife wounds. “If you help me,” he gasped, “I can walk.”
“I don’t think…”
“Help me up!” he ordered, his tone deep and commanding.
The perfect metaphor for my own writer's block as it turns out. But in reality, I left his stabbed ass for dead by the lake, and went home for a hot chocolate.
Devil's Advocate
I know James Patterson writes like that, following his detective protagonist in first person, while cutting away to third person scenes to show his readers what the killer is up to.
I don't know that I've come across any erotic short stories like that though. I started to write one myself recently, with about 1,000 word scenes in first person, with 250 word third person inserts to reveal necessary plot points outside the main character's observation and otherwise break up the time between scenes. I actually thought it was going quite nicely, but the story itself was too much of a grind, so I gave it up.
As for the flipping between perspectives, I thought it was important to keep them consistently paced, hence 1,000 words in first and 250 in third. The first person sections took their time to explore things, whereas the third person bits inserted snipets of tension. I imagined it a bit like a movie, watching the family happily going about their business, with short cutaways to the bad guys thundering up the mountain path towards them on horseback.
I guess my point is, do it for a good reason. Otherwise it might just look like you couldn't make your mind up. Good luck with it though. I'll be interested to check it out when you're done.
I don't know that I've come across any erotic short stories like that though. I started to write one myself recently, with about 1,000 word scenes in first person, with 250 word third person inserts to reveal necessary plot points outside the main character's observation and otherwise break up the time between scenes. I actually thought it was going quite nicely, but the story itself was too much of a grind, so I gave it up.
As for the flipping between perspectives, I thought it was important to keep them consistently paced, hence 1,000 words in first and 250 in third. The first person sections took their time to explore things, whereas the third person bits inserted snipets of tension. I imagined it a bit like a movie, watching the family happily going about their business, with short cutaways to the bad guys thundering up the mountain path towards them on horseback.
I guess my point is, do it for a good reason. Otherwise it might just look like you couldn't make your mind up. Good luck with it though. I'll be interested to check it out when you're done.
Devil's Advocate
Quote by Haineko
best I can hope for is I get it up soon
Me too.
I've finally ditched that motherfuckin' werewolf ghost writing gig I was working on. And working is a generous description. I'm already halfway through my next story, and hoping to get it up by the end of the month.
Oh my...that sounds even worse.
Devil's Advocate
Clum's hit this one on the head. Plenty can talk the talk, but not as many can walk the walk. The idea that men are emotionless sexual robots is a myth. Throw on top of that an actual requirement to perform, and discretion is often the better part of valor.
The one threesome I've had, I found myself only able to focus on one of the women at a time. I'm sure a little more diversity and breadth of experience might alter my view, but to be honest, I'd just as much go one on one. I think it's the idea itself more than the actual act.
That Seinfeld episode where they come up with the ménage a trois plan sums it up perfectly.
The one threesome I've had, I found myself only able to focus on one of the women at a time. I'm sure a little more diversity and breadth of experience might alter my view, but to be honest, I'd just as much go one on one. I think it's the idea itself more than the actual act.
That Seinfeld episode where they come up with the ménage a trois plan sums it up perfectly.
Devil's Advocate
Quote by Dancing_Doll
I loooove figs! They're probably one of my favourite fruits (when I can get them and they're in season). And yep, tofu definitely makes me happy - if you think it's nasty - just try a sample of the Chili-Lime Basil Tofu the next time you're at Whole Foods. It's fantastic - you'll totally change your mind.
"The next time you're at Whole Foods"? Bahahaha! I don't think we have a Whole Foods down here, or if we do, I've never noticed them...for good reason.
But I actually do enjoy tofu. So no need to bust out the hippy big guns to convert me. Damn it, now I feel like a big bowl of pad thai.
Devil's Advocate
Figs, no meat and yoga?! Fuck you, Doll!
Interesting though that I too tend to gravitate towards the A type foods. Although, I do eat a lot of chicken. I'm A+ and a friend of mine with the same blood type tried the diet a few years ago, and she said it made her feel a lot better. I think us Plussies have to lay off the dairy too. I notice when I do, I feel the better for it. I just love cheese too much.
But holy hammers, I can't get enough carbs! I could just eat bread forever.
Interesting though that I too tend to gravitate towards the A type foods. Although, I do eat a lot of chicken. I'm A+ and a friend of mine with the same blood type tried the diet a few years ago, and she said it made her feel a lot better. I think us Plussies have to lay off the dairy too. I notice when I do, I feel the better for it. I just love cheese too much.
But holy hammers, I can't get enough carbs! I could just eat bread forever.
Devil's Advocate
I don't consider a girl a slut after any number of sexual partners. I try not to judge, and I try not to label. Whether a woman's a virgin, or she's just finished cleaning out the USS Nimitz, she's a human being who is worthy of respect. Her past isn't something that defines her, it's just the path she's taken to be where she is, hopefully in front of me and willing to share herself with me.
I don't actually know how many partners my wife had before me, and I quite honestly don't care. As for me, about thirty or so.
I don't actually know how many partners my wife had before me, and I quite honestly don't care. As for me, about thirty or so.
Devil's Advocate
Man, they can definitely rub the funk on it! It's actually refreshing to hear them properly for a change. Down here, the fucktard radio hacks always overlay a dance beat that just ruins it.
It's such an awesome sound, that London Grammar - Lana Del Rey - Lorde - Florence and the Machine thing. Very cool indeed.
It's such an awesome sound, that London Grammar - Lana Del Rey - Lorde - Florence and the Machine thing. Very cool indeed.
