|
Post by snowkitty on May 3, 2007 21:11:34 GMT -5
See, writing tension isn't wierd for me, I'm just not good at it. XD I'm fourteen, so all my stuff like this is kept under wraps. And I don't have any personal experience or anything. >.>
|
|
|
Post by Bethany on May 3, 2007 21:11:41 GMT -5
Nope, she's a goodie two-shoes.
...And she thinks I'm gross because of the undergarments I wear; so I wouldn't give her too much maturity credit.
|
|
|
Post by Lady Hammer on May 3, 2007 21:16:56 GMT -5
Because of the UNDERGARMENTS you wear?! HEY LAUREN I WEAR A BRA AM I GROSS? But no I know what you mean. xD She'd probably say all kinds of "gross" comments to me.
|
|
creamwolfgurl
Decent Member
A moonlit plain~a flash in the shadows~Lunar is winging across the Moon
Posts: 494
|
Post by creamwolfgurl on May 3, 2007 21:18:40 GMT -5
Yeah, no personal experience of this sort of thing either. And I'm nt mature at all like that. Me and my friends still burst out laughing when anybody says anything in that region. Actually our whole class is like that.
|
|
|
Post by Lady Hammer on May 3, 2007 21:21:26 GMT -5
Hey I have a question...
Bethany, why did everyone flock to your contest, but totally forget that mine existed? Hrm.
*attempts to inconspicuously direct everyone towards the other contests*
|
|
|
Post by Bethany on May 3, 2007 21:22:55 GMT -5
Lol. I remember those days. And I hated them.
But don't worry. I don't have much experience either, actually.
|
|
creamwolfgurl
Decent Member
A moonlit plain~a flash in the shadows~Lunar is winging across the Moon
Posts: 494
|
Post by creamwolfgurl on May 3, 2007 21:25:08 GMT -5
Our science teacher is this mad english guy and he kept going on about stuff like "hanky panky" one lesson. We just kept laughing until he got so hacked off. Then we shut up.
|
|
|
Post by thischaos on May 9, 2007 23:46:28 GMT -5
Obby. Severe writer's block... it's horrible. Oh gosh. Painful to read.
--
He stumbles into the mollifying darkness of the house, exhausted. He breaths heavily, as if he has run several miles. He hasn't. He has just driven home, so why does he feel so drained? It's not even late. He checks a clock: 7 PM. The psychiatrist. It was Dr. Kamzic who had worn him out, made him feel like he was dying.
No. Not dying. Don't think about it.
Tendrils of light reach feebly into the shadows, sneaking in through the windows. Kyle doesn't remember feeling this drained since... since... after the incident. He had passed out for days. He had tried to off himself.
No. Forget it. Don't think. Not about that.
His mind obeys readily, pushing the uncomfortable thoughts aside. Something nags at the back of his mind, threatening to surface. Probably something depressing. Don't let it surface. Push it back. The feeling is held at bay. So tired. He flicks a light—immediately the room in front of him is illuminated, bathed in a golden glow. His hand flies up to his face, shielding his eyes from the piercing light.
"I need to sleep," he says softly, feeling his way to his bedroom. Sleep. That is his only escape. Only in the writhing depths of sleep can he find peace. Peace? No. It haunts him, even in his sleep, his dreams. He is not safe anywhere. "I need to forget."
He trips into his room, flicks on the light, closes the door behind him. He goes to stand in front of the full length mirror and stares idly at the glass, a dazed look on his face. Not bad-looking, he thinks vacantly, I have good eyes. People talk about my eyes.
His thoughts are clouded suddenly and his breathing constricts. He cannot breathe. He needs to breathe! Kyle almost panics, but does not. The air rushes into his lungs, expanding them, relieving him.
A movement to his right. He turns to look - stops dead midturn. There is a girl on his bed. How strange. "Maddie—" He says her name. Stops. "What a... what a pleasant surprise." She grins radiantly at him. He weakly smiles back.
"What are you doing on my bed, Mads?" He asks softly, Not to mention in my house. How did you get in, anyway? She does not offer a reply, simply beckons him over. She is stretched out, relaxed. Where did she get that T-shirt? It is white and overlarge. She wears it like a dress. He obeys, edges over, looking at her warily.
It doesn't look bad. She looks good. She always looks good. "What, can't I visit my boyfriend?" she asks wryly, grabbing his arm with her small hand. She tugs hard and pulls him onto the bed. He abruptly sits on the edge. "Yes," he replies absently as Madeline slides onto his lap. What a beautiful girl. She always has surprises up her sleeve...
"Well, then."
She has one leg on either side of him now, and she is fiddling with his tie. Quickly she loosens it, her fingers deft and expert. Something rushes through his veins. He is no longer tired, but fully alert. What did she have planned?
Without a word, Madeline presses her lips against his. They are warm and firm, giving easily. With infinite tenderness she coaxes a kiss from him, then takes his hands, guiding them to her chest. They both shudder as his hand comes in contact with her breasts. He still looks uncertain, but there is something else in those bewitching pale blue eyes of his.
Desire? Her breasts are yielding beneath his hesitant hands and delicate touch, fleshy and rounded. She gasps. In a moment she has his belt off and flung halfway across the room. His tie is loosened, his shirt unbuttoned. She has a great body, he notices vacantly. The curves are well-proportioned underneath her shirt, he wants to touch her, to caress her. But he holds back. Can't. Not right. And he doesn't know how, he's unexperienced.
Suddenly she has him on his back, sitting on top of him. His bed is soft underneath him, calling to him. Sleep beckons. He disregards it. Instead, he looks up at her, his fingers gently trailing down her sides. She trembles with a delighted smile, uttering a soft sound. With a finger he motions for her to come close. Madeline lays on top of him, her ear next to his mouth. He wants to say something. She can see, in his eyes, that his desire is held at bay. Why?
"What's the occasion?" he asks uncertainly—he has been dying to ask. His voice wavers. She smiles tenderly, "Happy birthday, Kyle."
|
|
|
Post by Bethany on May 10, 2007 19:28:42 GMT -5
I love the way you described that.
You don't give yourself enough credit, this is very good. ^_^
Oh, and Lady, everyone flocked to my contest because sex sells. Lol. I'll participate in your contests eventually... but I haven't been feeling like writing at all lately... it seems more like a chore than like fun to me right now because now is the part of the term where all my teachers are deciding to pile on the work. Sooo... I'll get around to it. ^^;;
|
|
creamwolfgurl
Decent Member
A moonlit plain~a flash in the shadows~Lunar is winging across the Moon
Posts: 494
|
Post by creamwolfgurl on May 12, 2007 1:26:08 GMT -5
I didn't realise there WERE other contests. ^_^ oops
|
|