WickedWednesday: Wet! A young lady meets a sex blogger!

I have attempted a slightly weird writing challenge here; I have used each adjective, noun, verb and adverb once and only once in the text; obviously I have had to reuse propositions, conjunctions and pronouns to produce a readable story but the main structural words have not been repeated. Oh, and I have not used the word “wet” :)

This isn’t my best piece I know, but I put a difficult constraint on myself and hopefully it’s a readable 1,000 word tale anyway.

Aimee swore into the inky darkness at the taxi sped away from her; she shivered in the night-time air, glaring accusingly at the expansive puddle that had engulfed her as the speeding vehicle drove through it. It was late, she was a couple of miles from home, and wanted her warm, comfortable flat to relax in. She was not dressed to be walking at 2am.

“Are you OK?” A male voice asked, causing the party girl to flinch and then glance at a window in a residential block, and then spy her youthful work colleague looking across at her. “Miss Simmons,” he added with a smirk. “Want to dry off?”

She bit her lip, deliberating for a moment as her saviour disappeared from view, and opened his front door. “Thanks,” she muttered as he offered her in a vivid red bath towel, smothering her saturated clothes as he wrapped her in it. “That fucking minicab and …”

“I saw,” he interrupted and gestured invitingly towards a leather chair in the corner of his studio apartment as he flicked the switch on his kettle. “Hot chocolate?”

She smiled gratefully and nodded, as the dressing-gown clad gentleman poured the boiling liquid into two mugs containing the brown cocoa powder. She conveyed her gratitude as he placed the steaming beverage on the table. “You’ll catch your death,” he warned her and stared into her sparkling eyes. “Give me those things and I’ll stick ’em in the tumble dryer.” She hesitated, but the reassuring behaviour of the sales assistant in addition to her mildly inebriated state overrode any concerns.

“I can’t be … naked, though,” she countered and had a purple robe thrust into her grasp. “Turn around,” she demanded and waited until the grinning man turned his back on her. Peeling her tight sodden partywear from her skin was horrible, and her droukit underwear slopped loudly onto the floor as she disrobed. She grimaced as she frantically reached for the belt on the undersized garment. “This doesn’t fasten,” she cried. “or fit!”

He faced her. “I know,” he grinned cheekily as he scooped up her discarded attire and threw them into his new kitchen appliance, before slouching on his other seat and watched her desperately try to preserve her modesty. “Drink up!”

She hummed; his eyeline was worryingly close to her soft pert bosom, and womanly curves. His lips curled admiringly at her beauty and she glanced at the decorations in his abode, staring at the pictures on his wall and squinting. “Mark,” she called. “Is that you?”

He blushed. “Ummm … I forgot that …”

“Oh my God,” she squealed, shocked and excited in equal measure. “That’s a harness and that’s a sex toy and … why would you have these on display in your lounge?”

He faltered at her accusatory tone and sniffed. “Well …”

“Are you a porn star?”

“I run an adult blog,” he confessed and breathed deeply. “Anonymously,” he said before she could seek to extract the URL from him.

“But …”

“I’m sent products to evaluate and review by manufacturers. And I like to take artistic photographs and …”

“… and hang them where your visitors get a shufty at them.” He gulped, squeezing his cup tightly in his lap.

“Guess so,” he murmured, as she rose to her feet.

“But that’s a woman. And that one. And …”

“I do have partners,” he snapped, draining the refreshment and joining her. “I’m not undateable. Or a prude.”

The flustered lady traced the line of the photogenic subject in the monochrome print. “She’s so pretty.”

“She is,” he concurred and cackled. “She came three dozen times after that,” he boasted, reminiscing of the evening they shared.

“Is she a blogger too?”

“No,” he replied. “Just a fun-loving, open-minded friend who hadn’t orgasmed properly for a year.”

She sighed as he winked at her. “Don’t think you could make me climax because you test naughty toys,” she barked. “You cannot as I …” Her words trailed into silence.

“I can,” he promised and put his hands on her sides, openly feeling the luxurious cotton. “I have the plaything to have you screaming,” he whispered in her ear. “I have hundreds.” She gasped in anticipation and excitement, weighing up in her mind to slap him and storm out of his residence or allow him to experiment on her anatomy.

She hated how he expected her to submit to his games, but loved his confident demeanour and her arousal responded to her fantasies and his demands. A gush of adrenaline surged throughout her body as he returned with a small tray and met her gaze. She wriggled as his dactyls swept under her flimsy bedtime wear, and he beamed; any last remnants of defiance evaporated as they kissed. She felt his touch on her pubis and her pussy tingled expectantly.

He lay her gently on the cool armchair and smoothly ran his tongue, osculating her intimate areas with intense adulation. She purred, squirming as he applied his miracle vibrator – a bright pink wand with a dollop of lubricant smeared on top. She gripped the arms of the furniture, savouring the vibrations against her pearl and squealing as he upped the intensity. “That’s …” She shrieked in a high-pitched cry. “Amazing!”

“Indeed,” he exclaimed with a knowing fleer, rotating the pulsating rod with increasing power. Her breathing became ragged as his fingers pushed the oscillating massager firmly on to the writhing maiden, locating her clit with ease. She mewled in breathless delight; the lustful actions of her workmate driving her closer to ecstasy. She needed it, determined to experience a wild rush of sexual relief for the first time in weeks.

She shrilled as she inhaled, howling uncontrollably as every quiver of the motor brought her a step nearer to her inevitable orgasm. Riding the urge to release, her thighs trembled and her cunt tightened. She tossed her head on the headrest, blaspheming noisily as an orgasmic paradise cascaded from her dripping loins, bringing the coquette into a heavenly trance. She snatched at her breaths, her legs trembling. “Nice?”

“Yeah.”

“The full five stars?” He enquired, smiling at the damp patch underneath her.

“Hmmm …” She panted. “Maybe do it again. To be sure,” she suggested with a broad grin.

He was not going to refuse.

(Feel free to check my claim at http://www.wordcounter.com)

Wicked Wednesday

 

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8 Comments

  1. OH WOW!!! I need a cigarette and I don’t even smoke. That was so hot the whole idea of coming across a situation like this is such a turn on!! Great job on this post…WOW!!

  2. John,
    This would be a brilliant piece even had you not mentioned your self imposed challenge; even more impressive because of it. Very readable, nice characters,fun, and pretty damn hot.

    Mal
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