A:
I'm dry. (A woe-be-gone look
settled upon her morning tired face)
Z:
Far too much info girl. (The
words startled him enough you'd thought he had to shiver, arm's hair on end as
if he had a static attach, but it was that more
stunned-faced-why-are-you-telling-me-this look)
A:
I am. (Her insistent words held
surprise and defiance as she noted his strange, complex expression)
Z:
Take care of that without ever sharing with me.
A:
(Mind light bulb blinked into full wattage) No...noooooo!
You got me wrong. I need some
lust to draw from.
Z:
Again, fair too much info.
A:
Get your mind out of my panties. My
ideas have dried up. Gone. Vanished.
Desert dry. An idea cloud not in
sight. Not my... my...my...my never
mind.
Z:
Oh, said the pigeon as he soiled the statue. (Then with a smirk) So, that's what you're calling it...a never
mind.
A:
What?
Z:
You need for me to juice you up?
(Crooked grin, in full effect, split his beard) I can juice.
They call me the Juicer. Faster
than a loco mojo. Stronger than a
speeding bullet. ( He winked) Able to
leap tall gals in a single bound. Soooo?
A:
Yes. Give me some juice. In the figurative, I repeat very, very
figurative way... ok?
Z:
You need me to lube your money maker?
( He rubbed his hands together as if warming them)
A:
Ok! (She huffed the word out)
Z:
You want me to put my key in and start your engine. (He stood and stretched) Varoom-vroom!
Gentleman... start your engines.
I'm ready to jump into your cockpit... and drive you wild and crazy.
A:
Enough of the innate metaphors.
Give me some writing ideas.
Z:
Oh... that's what you wanted... what a way to spoil a guy's day.
A:
You can be a real pain in the arse.
Z:
I thought we were talking about the other place... but if...
A: Hear me! Enough!
Work! Now! Ok?
Now!
Z:
(He thought a moment and looked at her with querying eyes, considered,
wrote a note and slipped it across the desk... a note she immediately balled up
and tossed at him... they sat in silence for a few minutes, Zi with a shit
eating grin and Ang with that rag-eyed stare)
Ok, think of a character like the one in IT MAY BE LOVE typing away to
his wanna-be paramour. (He wrote as she
read) In the words of Elvis, “Love me tender, love sweet, never let me go.”…
I add ‘be my splendor, be my treat, forever blow and blow’… one more fantasy…
you blindfolded… tied to a chair… my cock put into your mouth… over and over… I
cum not down your throat though I’d love to do so… but I upon you face… why…
because I can… I remove your clothes… place a dildo in that special place… left
there… nipples bit… repeatedly… minutes later… my cock is put back into your
mouth… I cum once again… upon your face… then silence fills the room… ten
minutes… twenty… thirty… you dripping… gooey… I eventually remove your
blindfold… shower with you… we neck beneath the water… dry… and crawling into
bed… you notice there on the table… my digital camera… and wonder. (He does the eyebrow lift) You juicy yet said
the Juicinator to the desert patch?
A:
It is raw. Primal. A little crude. (She thought... Does he ever stop teasing…
never… why? She shakes her head)
Z:
So my Partner du Pen needs some more before-she-can-write-play. (Zi pounds on the keyboard like a man on a
hot mission continuing the character's sensual rant) She is
beautiful… and I want beautiful in my life… and if she is there I want her
happy to be so… Valentine’s Day is so nice… it makes it easy to be nice. Had I made you damp? Come-on check! (He sniggered like a fourth-grader might)
A:
Ziiii, more me!
Z:
You wrote, and I shall paraphrase
“...tell me what it is that you crave...”
I will over and over… I crave the never-ending blow-job… I crave a cunt
that wants… I crave tits that are willing… I crave a lady in the parlor and
whore in the bedroom… I crave an ass that wants… I crave a babe who wants to
deep swallow my cock and tongue my balls at the same time… I crave a lady who
wants to discover every sexual opportunity that draws us… I crave her… naked…
willing… wanting… forever. Moist?
A:
Moistish!
Z:
Good... yea me! (He's in the
zone, tapping keys out in a prose kind of titillating song) So I can’t piss on you… shit… and I wanted
to do so… not… but can I demand that you masturbate… until your eyes scream… I
can’t cream anymore… can I insist that you swallow so deep and that you try
harder than hard to reach your tongue to the back of my balls… can I shove you
down and take my pleasure… can I slap your ass each time you fail to lust like
the wild animal I want you to be… questions?
Huh?
A:
Icky to the square of creepy! You
went over a line.
Z:
Damn... I do that. (He takes a
few long breaths, as if cleansing out his thoughts... puts up the sport's
time-out signal) The afore was a dance with possibilities… real… maybe… maybe not… would
you like to dance… might I lead… thank you.
Damp or soggy?
A:
I got some ideas. Thank you for
being my moisturizer. (She smiled a
crooked smile)
Z:
Glad I could get you wet. (He offered that half-lidded cocky look of
triumph)
A:
Golden Showers and Scatophilia, ie, Coprophilia is just a little out of
my comfort zone.
Z:
So the rest was comfortable in you erogenous zone? Thanks for letting me in there.
A:
(She did the head shake of look-what-I-have-to-deal-with) Ok Slick... let's write.
***
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a gift and add you to any future mailings.
Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com
No comments:
Post a Comment