Thursday, February 20, 2014

WRITERS WRITE...WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ CELEBRATING



Z:  (Answering his phone... putting it on speaker... he talked to Ang)  Late again?
A:  I had an emergency.
Z:  Oh!
A:  Yup.  Zingo's had meatloaf on sale... I had to stop.  You know how fast that sells out.
Z:  We are having meatloaf for lunch?  (Happiness lifted his tone)
A:  No.  I am having meatloaf for dinner.  You are taking me out for lunch. 
Z:  I am?  Why?
A:  Presidents Day and Washington's Birthday.
Z:  We are celebrating that?  Wasn't that a few days ago?
A:  Yes.  And yes.
Z:  (He knew better than to question further)  See you when you get here.  (Zi sat at his keyboard and considered where the muse led to start the day and began)  Oscar Wilde wrote, “To be in love is to surpass oneself.”… over his life he has learned that love has made him a better man… when he gazes into the eyes of someone he loves… and discovers their soul… embraces it… finds that he could make them happier… He realizes that he is one step closer to self-actualization… this is selfish… but in a well-it-really-ain’t-kinda-way… He finds that being in love makes him become a far better person.  He says, “That being in-love is fine but being in-lust is paramount... so be my paramount paramour… my lover who is my sexual crave… be my eyes to bath in… be my soul to discover… be my wild and wet possibilities." (He paused, read what he wrote and considered)  I like the sentiment... the lust ... but not the wordage.  It needs a poem. 

My bounty is a bountiful as the air I see
My love is as deep; given by the soul of thee
The more I learn
The more I yearn
Come to me and swallow my wanting pee-pee
                                                                                               
So fourteen year old of me… but it makes me smile.  Will it make the readers feel?  Or will they just think yuck.  Where is that Ang?  (He adjusts that which men have been adjusting since the beginning of all time and began to type)  Does the spirit of his lust feel sated by her... not yet… he, the spirit, craves more of her… does she have a naughtier side… he wants to play with her… to feel her up… to shove a cock into her… why… for the fun of it… the love of it... does she have a favorite dildo… should they buy one together… does she like her wrists tied… does her naughty girl side like the sense of a blindfold… does she open every orifice for pleasure… lust wants her naughtier the naughty girl side… to blow him… regularly… might she?.. what a nudgy pain in her ass he could be… enjoy the anal… wouldn't she!  That is so libido driven.  Where is the poetry of it?  I need Ang.  (He spun in his chair, one rotation, two, stopping at seven... and then typed right after his eyes stopped revolving) She wrote about pussy and nipples… hardening clits and nips… wet wild moments… all shared in raw conversation… He was captured in those thoughts with her… to find her nipples harden with the pleasure that is hoped to be... to reach to feel them and play with them between his fingers, knowing that the more they are felt, the wetter her pussy gets. They have reverted to the "typical" language that is used in this type of conversation.… this word picture is wonderful… he wants to know more about that pussy… those nipples… he wants to know this lady craves… but more so… the lust in him and hopefully in her needs to know… the man has interest… the boy has needs… He wonders if she can satisfy him… he is a complex being… one day he wants to neck… the next… paint her in oil and roll about just to see how it feels… the next tie her between two trees and eat her cunt until she cries for him to stop… He has needs… is she you up for the games he plays?   Still too raw.  I need a story with both passion and emotion.  A poem.

Tease
Tease
Please
Please
Tease
               
(He sighs, taps his fingers, drinks a bit of coffee, frowns at its chill)  Boring.  But it is pure.   My man is lustful and his quest tentative.  I need to have him move her to the place when her panties fall spontaneously to her ankles.  (He types)  “Mutual love, the Crown of all our bliss.” was given by John Milton… He was not quite a Milton fan but this does make sense… the most perfect love is that of 69… pure and intimate gifts… granted for the expressed purpose of pleasing the other… granted simultaneously… this is simply glorious… so he asks… will my paramour 69 him… let him give as well as she does? He loves the idea of bliss… a well under used word… He imagined sex with her would be blissful… He wondered what love might be… was she giving… was she selfish… he wonders… the dance is the Blissful Cha-cha… 69… should they?  Again, lust without connection.  (He tried again) She wrote and gave him a slight woodie, he was thankful, “Thinking of you makes me nice and creamy… you are inside my heart…” … cool… mustache ride?... where can he get a fake mustache… would she love to feel the softness of his face running between her legs. Also, wanting to feel the wetness between her legs, the feel of his tongue lightly rubbing against the want of her... take this as an offer… cool…He would love to place his tongue in her… wiggle it about… his hands pulling her ass… fingernails drawing lies upon her skin… helping her feel alive… He desires to ask her pussy to spread… one finger at a time… He needs to discover her clitoris… longs to see what she might bring… not for himself… but them… his teeth grabbing at it… his growls speaking to the animal within him… his gentle quest of cunnilingus eventually turning into a sojourn of primal urges… wild and raw passion… the man in him becoming strong… assertive… and asking… does she crave a man in her… on her… wanting her… does she feel that she can reveal her inner beast?  Primal is so perfect.  (He grinned, then added)  He may have shared this fantasy… it is a recurring one for him… They could arrange for one of his many fantasies to come true… He has many… He'll word picture a bit of it… they agreed to meet… He'll give her a hotel room number… he'll ask her to dress in a short skirt… a loose top… white panties… "Leave your bra home m’Dear…"  Just before she gets out of her car as per his instructions, he'll removes her panties… sign and date them… place them into a gift box… red bow please… a little card… a note of appreciation… and she'll come to their room… knock on the door… the door will open… the room will be dark… she'll hesitate… but enter… the door will close behind her… the room black… she will be grabbed and taken to the bed… (Again, a pause, a thought to make the prose of the character more in the present)  the box falls to the floor… she is bent over face upon the bed… the blanket pulled over her head… her pussy revealed as her skirt is pushed aside… seconds turn into minutes turn into an hour… lower lips meet upper ones… a tongue sexplores… fingers crave access… flavor is sexperienced… she aches for more yet, the more ends… the door closes… she rises… turns on the lights… notices the box has been opened… the panties taken… she sits wondering… minutes later… He opens the door… bright eyed… and says, “Sorry I was late… I left the door open… see you noticed!”… she says nothing… They have gentle and wonderfully loving sex… she teaching him to love her… and he wanting to learn.  Weird fantasy?… yep… but… there is a gentle risky nature to it… I believe sex needs just a little naughty embrace to it… not vile or harsh… just naughty.  There are hundreds of fantasies… hundreds… do we have enough days to try them all?
                                                    
Can paramour be m’Lady
Can paramour be m’Whore
Give me her
For I’m a cur
Can paramour be m’More

A:  (The door opened... Ang put her dinner in the refrig... and joined Zi in the office)  What are you doing?
Z:  I wrote a real cool dirge of passion.  But it needs a story.  Fix it.  I have to run out and get my dinner.
A:  Be back by lunch.  I'm hungry!                            






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Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com








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