A power outage sent Bev and Kay home early from the gym—a perverse, cosmic twist, considering the memberships had been gifts from their husbands to fulfill their New Year’s resolutions. They walked through the house, frozen by the lecherous sight in the backyard hot tub: Bill fucking Jake from behind, his arm wrapped around, stroking his hard cock.

“Should we—”

“Join them?” Bev finished.

This is going to be a great year, thought Kay.

Work has gotten heavy, so I don't have much time for writing. I've been reading "The Art of Description" by Mike Doty, and playing around with a poem that is structured along the lines of "The Fish" by Elizabeth Bishop.

I've taken writing that wasn't working out and made it another story. Or used bits in other stories.

Mine has just been released. I went with something airy and poetic. It took about a week to come out with the basic story, followed by a grueling week of repeated editing to modify the writing style.

https://www.lushstories.com/stories/trans/advent-angels

Quote by Shyexhibitionist

They are truly amazing. The humour of Connolly shines through. I love Spready Mercury. Every time I see them I laugh 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁳󠁣󠁴󠁿

Quote by Hughtheman

As someone who has entered competitions before, what has it been like? I'd been lying if I said I hadn't thought about entering, but is it more nerve-racking than a regular story for you?

Quote by Shyexhibitionist

Not nerve-racking but decidedly more challenging. Especially with a word limit, although a lot of my stories are around the 1500 mark. Go for it!

I suppose if winning was a concern, it would be nerve-racking. Like Shyexhibitionist stated, for me, it's challenging, not nerve-racking. I get off on getting outside of my comfort zone; getting my nerves racked. Nothing racked with this one! Go for it!

I'm almost done with my Advent story; just a few more sentence tweaks to go. I decided to use this as a challenge to write something outside of my normal writing style, and write a story with flashbacks and time gaps. In the process, I redid a short story that I play with. Drawing on real events, I turned it into an erotic piece, and incorporated a tiny bit of shameless self-promotion.

https://www.lushstories.com/stories/straight-sex/my-notorious-holiday-self

Quote by Katherine

I edit the fuck out of it before I submit, to the point where I usually don't love it anymore. It's a character flaw I guess lol. Once I'm sick of it I read it one last time, sometimes parts of it aloud because my eyes aren't working and the brain is barely braining. Then I hit publish and don't ever want to read it again. I even feel bad for the mod that has to read it.

I recommend getting sick of your work. You'll never recall it. 🤣🤣🤣

EDIT: I have had a story here for years, where the character never puts down the coffee mug but it's magically gone. I did actually reread it a couple years after I'd published it and just facepalmed. But no one else caught it and it lives on as a teaching lesson for me and makes me laugh when I think about it.

I'm the same. I probably go over my story a half dozen times before it's submitted. Even then, I'll think about it, come up with something that I could have written better, and contemplate recalling it. And when I have recalled something and made the changes, I realize that it isn't going to make a damn difference in the story.

I like the idea.

I'd love to be doomed into writing erotica.

I can relate. I was stuck for a couple of weeks, unable to focus on anything.

I've been working on a few things recently, currently focused on my bisexual threesome series, Gabby And Pete And Emma.

Sex in public, especially outdoors.

Quote by Dreamwolf

At moonrise, on a dare, I enter Witchwood. Leaves hiss, creepers finger me.

Leering satyrs emerge, shaglegged, horned, with stiff red pricks. Stripped, held down, legs splayed, spellcast lusts torment me until I beg. Grinning, they mount me, filling every orifice. All night in burning ecstasy I buck and writhe.

At moonset I stumble free, coughing their stinking seed; thighs slicked, skin roped with pearls, a single leaf covering my slit.

Insatiable now, I’ll return...

I love this! So nasty and wicked!

Witch's Curse

One cursed hallowed eve, a speeding sedan swerved wildly when the sucked-off driver suddenly blew his load and cried out. A jolt, a crunch, and then silence. They'd hit a cloaked figure, a witch. Before she vanished, a chilling curse echoed, "The pleasure that stole my life now guards yours. Taste bliss again, and you will join me." The four friends knew their bodies had become ticking clocks; they could never taste that pleasure again.

I've told some of my friends, but I haven't shared my writing with them. They're cool with it and think that it's kind of funny, because I come across as such a straight laced guy.

I'm in the same situation. Tried a prepaid Mastercard. No go!

I'd tell them my self-respect is fine. I'd ask them how much erotica they've read. Ask them why they think I don't have any self-respect.