Romance (erotica) – Page 10 – Erin Penn's Second Base

Flash: Another Round

May 28, 2017January 12, 2022 Erin Penn

Image courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature (Language)

“I’ll have sex with the next person that buys everyone a round.” Adelaide loudly announced.

Throughout the crowded bar guys started pooling money together.

One guy, better groomed than most at the bar, held up a few bills. “I got this … Beers for the house.” He passed the bills to the bartender who after checking the denomination nodded and started filling mugs.

Adelaide inhaled deeply and approached the stranger. Some guys tried to make a grab for her, consider her fair play. Others gave her wide berth, as one does crazies. Most were watching the waitresses distribute full trays throughout the establishment.

The man passed one more bill over; she was close enough to see the hundred change hands. “For tips,” he said quietly. The noise level at the college sports bar kept the comment private between the bartender, the man, and her.

The man was getting more pluses than she thought would be possible. Clean-shaven, but with the longer hair she liked so much. He decisively paid and not only had money for tips, remembered to pay them. The bar was packed for a non-football Monday, so the man shilled out a lot of money to cover the round. Adelaide’s sense of humor gave her a genuine smile for the stranger. After a fashion, she was making more than she made during her entire summer job.

“Are you okay with going to the girls’ bathroom?” she asked, swallowing her pride and fear.

He shrugged broad shoulders inside his beaten leather jacket; for a minute, the man looked familiar. The dim light of the bar, broken by various neon pools, did not let her get a clear look at his face. Adelaide glanced over her shoulder. Beth was standing by the doorway; her Greek letter pink pullover looking decisively out of place in the male dominated establishment.

The man glided over the floor. Several guys offered him high fives and a few stood to slap his shoulder. Most just toasted him with their beer mugs. As she moved deeper in the crowd, she was recognizing more and more guys from the university. Some of them were first year undergrads like her and should not be drinking, but most were not in her beginning classes.

No one groped her as she followed the man. She guessed it was caveman rules; she had been claimed for the moment. He wore faded jeans, not in the present fashion of buying new jeans with artistic wear marks, but he wore jeans that were comfortable with him and offered comfort in return.

He held the door open for her and Adelaide easy passed under his arm. He was well over six foot, and dwarfed her five four frame by a considerable amount. Once inside the two-stall bathroom, the man asked “Are you okay with this?”

“I lost a bet … well, actually more accurately, I took a dare,” she explained.

“You didn’t answer the question,” his brown eyes looked gravely into hers. “So I am guessing you are not okay with this.”

Adelaide started unbuttoning her flannel shirt. “Look, you don’t have to be nice about this. Just pretend I am a silly coed who is drunk.” She dropped her eyes to the tiles. Once the shirt was unbuttoned, she ran her hands down either side of the part. After lingering a second at the bottom of the fabric, she cupped her breasts. While staring over his shoulder, she said, “You paid for this fair and square.”

His hand redirected her chin upwards and centered it until her green eyes were looking into his again. “You don’t seem to be drunk, Adelaide.”

She gasped a second, her hands startling away from her breast to the area between them. The man was close enough her fingertips brushed the leather jacket. “How do you know my name?”

“Sorry. My name is Muin.” His low voice relayed. “I’m Fenrir’s brother.”

Adelaide sagged against a sink and dropped her head into her hands. “Of course, because this situation cannot get any worse.”

“By situation, you mean this pledge hazing you are going through, I really don’t see how it could be any worse.”

“And just how do you know about why I am doing this?”

“Alpha Alpha Sigma has had the truth or dare game as part of their rush for years.” He explained. “My freshman year one of the older girls come up with the Bar Dare. The dare has become legend on campus because since then everyone has chosen to tell the truth rather than take the dare.”

“Except for me.”

“Except for you.”

Laughing at herself, Adelaide sarcastically commented. “Go me.”

“Exactly. Go you.” Miun replied. “Why the Hell are you rushing with these losers?”

(words 790; first published 3/27/2013; republished in new blog format 5/28/2017)

Editing Rant: Different Dance Moves

May 9, 2017October 31, 2022 Erin Penn

Image courtesy of Stuart Miles at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature

Choreography

Two aspects areas of storytelling take choreography to the extreme: fighting and sex. Normally, stating where a person is standing in a conversation has little impact on the situation other than providing an anchor of time and place. During sex and fighting where the two (or more) characters are located, where they are located in relation to each other, and how they interact with each other and the scenery (beds and cars) and props (guns and bedsheets) are all important.

And like any choreography, the moves need to vary to keep interest. If writing fighting, each battle needs to be different – not a one-punch and done. To Beat the Devil by M.K. Gibson does an amazing job of changing up the dance from single couple to large scale ballroom/battlefield, from no props (fist only) to canes and top-hats (magic and guns). No altercation repeats aspects of previous fights. If writing sex, similar rules apply.

Recent books deserving rants:

BOOK 1: All sex scenes followed the same pattern: oral/manual simulation followed by vanilla intercourse. All emotional levels are the same (no crying, hurt, joy, happy, anger). All sex happened in the same room, on the bed. This would be like all the fights in an urban fantasy happening in a boxing ring.

BOOK 2: A five-way relationship (one female to four males). Two complete rounds of intercourse follow the same exact order of the males doing the same exact actions; the only variation is the location, once in the living room and once in the bedroom. No emotional level variation. Even the dialogue did not vary.

For choreography to work, variation in location, emotions, number of characters, order of activities, and the props is required, whether fighting or sex. When done right each major choreographic encounter should advance the plot. In a romance, each encounter advances the romance. In an action-thriller, each encounter teaches the main character a new skill or reveals a new portion of the plot.

Each dance results in movement, emotional sweeps to plotting quicksteps.

Limiting the dance of fighting or romance to a single step or pattern of steps is like watching the tango with no dips or spins.

WRITING EXERCISE: Create a fight or romantic scene of 1,000 words or less between two characters. Change one of the following and only one of the following and rewrite the scene: (1) location or (2) emotional driving force behind the scene.

READING EXERCISE: For your most recent read, write down every “dance” within the book – include location, emotional level, number of characters, prop/powers used, and activities. Did the variation help keep the “dances” fresh?

Flash: Lips

April 9, 2017April 19, 2018 Erin Penn

Rating: Mature

The mesmerizing lips drew back redder than when they approached. Julia compelled her eyes open with difficulty; her last orgasm was still rifting through her body. She barely felt the ropes tying her wrists and ankles that kept her body attached to the chair even when her spine had bent in half from pleasure.

Kade’s tongue flicked out to gather the salty red moisture before it dripped. Julia’s eyes watched the motion and her nipples tightened. As he continued to back up, she tried to focus on those behind him. Every time she looked at him all she wanted to do was beg for more. Oh God, so much more.

He only had a taste. A quick bite. The movement of his finger tracing his lips as he considered her with black alien orbs brought her eyes back to the most wonderful, pleasurable, frightening thing in her world. Her breath was drawn from her. His teeth so perfect.

Breaking contact, Kade’s black eyes became engrossed by the single drop of blood left on his index finger.

Julia heard the scraps and movements of others in the room. She searched inward for terror. The kidnapping, the ride, the punches, and being tied up. She had wanted to scream and scream and could not. She tried to struggle and could not.

Now satisfaction provided calm and languish to her mind and muscles. She could scream now but didn’t want to. Too much effort. The logical part of her mind tried to prod the emotional side to panic with no avail. Eventually it gave up.

Trying to puzzle out the black and the beings inhabiting it would take energy Julia no longer had. She felt so good. The easiest thing to focus on was Kade’s lips.

“My dear little angel,” the lips formed words. “You are a tasty treat like few others.”

The head and body turned denying her view of the lips for a precious few seconds. “I wish I had known,” Kade projected to the four corners as he spun. “I wouldn’t have a called for a joint feast but kept this morsel for myself.”

Kade knelt in front of her and whispered; the sound still carried. “But I did and I will not renounce my invitation to share.”

She watched as the lips approached, hoping. She moaned as they drew back when he stood from paradise lost.

“Harris, Pascal, Eugene. Please, my friends, partake a sip. Remember to leave enough for the others to savor.”

(words 415 – originally appearing at Sunday Fun on Breathless Press 1/20/2013 -The original photo was of unknown copyright so did not put on my site – published on old blog 1/20/2013; republished in new blog format on 4/9/2017)

Flash: 50-Word Prompts (The Mouse Roars)

March 26, 2017August 16, 2026 Erin Penn

Image part of the Public Domain: Rodin “The Kiss”

Flash: 50-work – Prompts Two, Three, Four, Nine and Bonus

Below is the last of the fifty-word flashes; the second set of interrelated flashes. Plus I have added one bonus flash at the very end to round out this group. Hope you have enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed the day exploring rapid writing.

I entitled the grouping: The Mouse Roars.

PROMPT TWO: Promptness

“So, where’s the party?” Julie asked.

Bradley laughed. “You’re always prompt. It starts six, but most people won’t arrive until eight. ”

Considering the guy she liked for so long, Julie shoved her shyness aside and asked in a sultry voice. “So what shall we do until everyone else arrives?” (words 50)

PROMPT THREE: Photo of Sunrise/Sunset

The party ended hours ago with a campfire and everyone taking turns at his telescope. Now to deal with the fallout, Brad thought as he tried to concentrate on the cans and bottles just becoming visible by the early morning sun and not think about the girl in his bed. (words 50)

PROMPT FOUR: Sated

Julie stretched, sated. Had that really been her? She ran through the night – no alcohol to blame it on – but nothing embarrassing either. She felt a little proud to throw off the quiet church mouse routine and ROAR. She hoped she could find the willpower to do it again. (words 50)

PROMPT NINE: Photo of Asian words translated … poorly

Bradley split the used beer recyclables between glass and aluminum. Bracing himself, he went to the final corner of the yard where couples temporarily retired. Are all those rubbers recyclable? Stupid question, Brad, and time to stop avoiding the issue. His bedroom guest should be up. (words 46)

BONUS 50-WORD FLASH: Rules

Julie’s shyness overcame her lion, “I should be gone by now, right? That’s why you left … Oh god, I don’t know any of the rules.”

Tilting up her face, Bradley responded, “I don’t think ‘rules’ are going to apply.”

The soft kiss spoke promises neither knew how to make. (words 50)

(Initially published 2/8/2013; published in new blog format 3/26/2017)

Series: 50-word Prompts

Flash: Half-Hungry

March 12, 2017April 19, 2018 Erin Penn

Image Courtesy of FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Rating: Mature

Gwyn came out of the apartment bathroom to find Jeremy asleep on the couch. She smiled. The guy was just so sweet and nice; she couldn’t believe he had faced Anthony down when they went to get her things. Nearly broke her ex-boyfriend’s arm when he took a swing at Jeremy. When did he get so strong?

The last two days have been a whirlwind since she cried on his shoulder. Getting her stuff, replacing all the things Anthony had destroyed, and the thousand and one things involved in changing her address. And Jeremy had been beside her through it all, while checking in with his business and covering any hours he couldn’t get employees to come in to help.

He was and always had been the one stroke of luck in her life.

She should let him sleep.

She tiptoed past the couch to get to the second bedroom in the apartment. The living jungle. Jeremy had moved many of the plants into his room, kitchen, and balcony, plus a Prius car-load out to the nursery in his florist shop to make room for his guest cot and her new clothes, but the amount of green was still overwhelming.

A hand grabbed her leg below her short nightdress, while a sleepy tenor asked, “Where are you going?”

Trying, unsuccessfully, to ignore the shivers caused by Jeremy’s thumb caressing her knee, Gwyn whispered, “Off to bed. It’s nearly midnight.”

One black eye opened blearily. “Dinner … you need to eat something.”

“I’m good.” Gwyn’s stomach made a noisy denial of her statement. She had skipped dinner the night before, and every meal but lunch today – which Jeremy had made her eat between getting new bras and changing her driver’s license.

His other eye opened and his black eyes stared her down, while his lips twitched. Suddenly they both burst out laughing. Jeremy sat up on the couch and pulled her down into his lap.

“I can hear that.” He said between laughs.

Gwyn threw her arms around her childhood friend and gave herself over to the healing laughter. She so needed this.

Equally suddenly, the laughter stopped. She felt a bump under her ass that hadn’t been there before. And Jeremy’s black eyes were focused on her lips. Gwyn licked them instinctively.

They had dated a little through Junior High and High School, so she knew Jeremy found her attractive. Teenage boys didn’t have much control over the arousal reflex, but good teenage girls aren’t supposed to notice. He never did anything inappropriate though. Jeremy was her safe harbor.

Her nipples tightened as he moved his head towards her slowly and her pussy clenched. This was Jeremy, why was she reacting? Safe Jeremy. Nice Jeremy. His lips brushed hers lightly on the side and she moved to meet them. Jeremy whose shoulder she cried on. Jeremy whom took her in.

Light nibbles along her lip invited her to open her mouth. Gwyn sank into the next level of kisses with a sigh. Jeremy’s gardening-roughened hands cupped a breast through her thin white silk nightdress. His thumb rubbed a nipple, the chapped skin increasing the sensation caused by the abrasion.

Her head spun as the kiss deepened and she discovered his weight pressing her into the couch. Jeremy had stretched her out and pressed her into the white cushions; his shaft straining at his jeans against her exposed mound. The nightdress had hiked up and she wasn’t wearing underwear.

Jeremy released her mouth. He didn’t say anything, but their eyes met a moment. Gwyn understood he checking for any protest, any reluctance. But this was Jeremy, her harmless, innocent Jeremy. She trusted him to take care of her. Later, later she would do something to wreck what they were starting. But that would be her fault, not his. She gave him a quick peck on the forehead and waited to see what her friend would do next.

He stopped to nuzzle her breasts. His four-o’clock shadow made them extra sensitive as he sucked first one and then the other through the silk. He bit and sucked until she was moaning, writhing beneath him. His weight held the bottom half of her in place, forcing her to grab his strong shoulders with her hands and arch her body closer to his. He slipped a hand between them and found her slickness.

With his callused thumb, Jeremy rubbed her nub while the rest of his hand cupped her mound. She separated her legs to make more room for his palm and he took advantage to change hand position and dip a finger into her. Gwyn bucked against the hand. Jeremy sucked one tit deeply into his mouth then blew air onto the silk and nipple, all the while increasing the pressure on her clit.

Lights danced behind Gwyn’s closed eyes. She knew her fingernails were digging deeply into Jeremy’s shoulders but couldn’t control them. “Close, oh, god, Jeremy, so close.”

The mouth left her breasts and the thumb abandoned her clit. The tightening coil didn’t let her go and she squirmed for fulfillment when Jeremy’s weight released her.

Then she felt Jeremy grab her legs and pull her toward the end of the armless coach. Her nightdress rode up her back and bunched around her breasts, leaving her pussy and belly completely exposed. His strong hands pushed her knees apart, the bottom half of her legs now hanging over the coach, and he blew air against her most intimate parts. She arched up again, but his hands held her knees and hips firmly in place. She felt his stubble graze her inner thighs and then his mouth found her clit.

(947 words – originally appearing at Breathless Press 10/16/13 for the 8/19/12 Sunday Fun, published on the first blog on 10/20/2013; republished new blog format 3/12/2017)