The Affair Chronicles (Working title) RATED 18+

[HouseWife]

Hey everyone. My name is Marie and I'm a 33 year old housewife from Ontario, Canada. I came here to try and spice up my life, through fiction. An affair is something I've always fantasized about, but have never done, and probably will never do. So what better than to create my own affair in my head, and share the details with all of you! FAIR WARNING, some of this content WILL be meant for 18 and older, so viewer discretion is advised. I am also writing this when it is convenient for me, so I apologize if my chapters come in spurts

CHAPTER 1


It was like a dream. The moment he walked in to the restaurant, those piercing blue eyes hit me from across the counter. There wasn't much else that I noticed about him, at that particular moment in time, but it was enough to captivate my interest.

He walked up to the counter and ordered a coffee. I smiled as I handed it to him, and he flashed back a beautiful smile, as he handed me a tip.

"Brody," was the first word to come out of his mouth. I looked at him baffled, probably looking like an idiot, until he continued, "My name. My name is Brody."

I smiled. "Alexa." He smiled again, and turned around and walked out. I watched him walk away and disappear into the crowded mall. I thought nothing else of the situation, and continued on about my day.

---

Pulling my keys from the lock, I walked into my apartment, to be greeted by our amazing chocolate lab, Coco, and our cuddly cat Dorris. Why we named her Dorris, I'll never know, all I knew at the time, was that my fiance, had a slight fixation with naming pets after humans. Chris and I, had been together for 5 years, engaged for 1. We lived in a neat 2 bedroom house, with Coco and Dorris, and were slowly planning a wedding. Things were great, we didn't fight or argue very often, and we always kept things light with date nights, dinners and surprises. From the outside we were the perfect couple, planning our future. We both worked two jobs, I at the restaurant and at a local pub, and he at a retail outlet, and also at the local pub. We worked together, essentially every weekend.

That night was nothing special. Another night in with dinner, a couple glasses of wine, and Netflix. Watching series of TV shows, was kind of our thing.

---

A couple weeks went by, things were pretty normal and life went on day by day. The thought of those blue eyes and shining smile entered my mind once or twice, but eventually blurred away; until one particularly hot summer day. I was on my break and sitting in the food court outside the restaurant, face buried in my tablet, when I heard a familiar voice say "Well hello, Alexa." I looked up, and there he stood, with those amazing eyes, and of course the smile, shining down on me, like an angel. I was at a loss for words for about 30 seconds, until I finally muttered what resembled a "hello..."

---

To be continued...

[MANICHAEAN]

With all the warnings about adult content, I was expecting hot action across the kitchen table, but I see we are still into foreplay.

[Emil Miller]

With all the warnings about adult content, I was expecting hot action across the kitchen table, but I see we are still into foreplay.

I think we should give Marie the benefit of the doubt, after all she has indicated that some of the content WILL require viewer discretion.
My only encounter with a Canadian lady was one where she was also trying to 'spice up her life', as all I can recollect of the affair was a scratched back and bruised rib cage; so perhaps the best is yet to come.

[HouseWife]

Lol thank you both for your replies. Yes, it has started light, but don't you worry. It will live up to its rating. :-)

[Steven Hunley]

Lol thank you both for your replies. Yes, it has started light, but don't you worry. It will live up to its rating. :-)


Well, it better, you Canadian house-wife you. We all know for a fact it get's cold up there, and you must have ways to combat the cold. It's also isolated, and you must have to exercise your imagination to amuse yourself. So it's your turn to amuse us, and if it's in an X-rated fashion....so be it. Welcome to LitNet.

[MANICHAEAN]

Emil
It must have been a 6ft 4inch ice hockey player. My own two years in Alberta were a lot more romantic and less rough!

Canadian Housewife
All the pumped up testesterone Lit Net alpha males await your next instalment with bated breath! Don't disappoint.

Best regards
M.

[Emil Miller]

Emil
It must have been a 6ft 4inch ice hockey player. My own two years in Alberta were a lot more romantic and less rough!




:lol: Actually she was quite petite and a former member of that occupation euphemistically called 'nightclub hostess'.
One doesn't normally associate unbridled lust with Canadian women but we live and learn.

[HouseWife]

Out of curiousity, how, or rather, where should I begin my second chapter? Should I put in a comment like this? Or edit my original post to include my chapters??

[Calidore]

Out of curiousity, how, or rather, where should I begin my second chapter? Should I put in a comment like this? Or edit my original post to include my chapters??

Best to reply so the forum software considers it a new post. If you just add it to the original post, it won't show up on the "New Post" list. Also, that would make any subsequent conversation more difficult.

[HouseWife]

Best to reply so the forum software considers it a new post. If you just add it to the original post, it won't show up on the "New Post" list. Also, that would make any subsequent conversation more difficult.

Cool. Thanks :-) more content coming soon!

[HouseWife]

CHAPTER 2

The moment passed almost as quickly as it came. A quick hello before walking into the restaurant to grab his coffee. I tried not to stare as he walked away. The rest of the day seemed to drag on, with blue eyes and pearly whites flowing through my memory.

---

The next day, the start of the weekend, was a busy one for me. 11-7 at the restaurant, home to shower and eat quick, then Chris and I would be off to the pub for our 10PM-3AM shift. I enjoyed us working together. I loved spending time with him, even then, after 5 years. Little did I know, that was about to change.

He was a bartender at the main bar, I was a server; I made rounds to tables, and had a tray of shots ready to serve when anyone wanted. I made a round, and headed to the back bar where Stephanie bar-tended. We weren't particularly busy that night, so I set my tray down and took 5 minutes to breathe. In a daze of blue eyes and pearly whites, I came to, to Stephanie snapping her fingers in front of my face.

"What's got you so distracted?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" I couldn't help but smile as I replied.

She smiled back, "you clearly have something on your mind. You've barely said two words tonight, and every time I look at you, you seem to be else where." I shrugged, picked up my tray and made another round.

---

I was excited to have the next day off. The weather was supposed to be perfect; sunshine and high temperatures. Chris was off to work until 5, so I would find something to occupy my time. I decided to take Coco for a walk. I walked slow, enjoying the sun on my back. Coco didn't seem to mind, patiently pacing beside me. I took it all in. The ground, the trees, the almost non existent clouds in the sky, the buff man walking towards me in a muscle tank, his lips curling into a smile the closer he got to me.... I stopped dead in my tracks as I realized who, and what I was looking at. His blue eyes and wonderful smile were no longer the center of my attention. I tried not to drool as I looked over his sculpted body. Buff arms, pecks to die for, and a slight hint of what looked like a 6 pack under his shirt. I thanked the Lord Mother for this beautiful weather, and whoever created muscle shirts.

"Hey lady, my eyes are up here," he said jokingly as he stopped in front of me. I felt my face turn, what I'm sure, was the darkest shade of red. I laughed nervously.

"Hi," I said with a smile. "How are you? Brody, right?"

"I'm good, just heading to the gym. How are you?"

"Good as well. Just walking my pup, Coco." He bent down face to face with Coco and started rubbing her ears. She licked him, loving the attention.

"You're cute," he said to her, as he stood up to face me once again. "Well enjoy your walk." He smiled and continued on his way. I circled the block and headed home.

The rest of the day was another haze of a beautiful body, adding to the memory of blue eyes and pearly whites. Chris got home around 5:30 and cooked dinner. Shortly after, we started getting ready for our shift at the pub. It was only open Thursday, Friday and Saturdays, and we often worked both Fridays and Saturdays.

---

"Hey Steph, I have a stalker," I said with a quirky smirk.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Well, this guy, we'll call him blue eyes, came into the restaurant last week, and since then I just keep randomly seeing him. It's so weird, I have never seen him before in my life, and I've seen him 3 times in the last week. Not that I'm complaining. You should see this guy. His eyes are ridiculously blue, and his body is... is... Oh my God!" I ducked to the ground and started giggling.

"What's going on?!" Steph asked, concerned, and trying not to laugh at me.

"He's here!" I stood up, straightened my apron and looked straight ahead. His eyes flashed in my direction, and a smile appeared ear to ear on his face. I looked towards the main bar at Chris, and felt a sudden panic. Not sure why I felt that way, I hadn't done anything wrong.. yet.

---

TO BE CONTINUED.

[MANICHAEAN]

Nice easy flow to Chapt 2 and you set the background and characters well. I enjoyed it.
Small quibble. Pectorial muscles are normally called "pecs" not "pecks."
Hope this guy is not muscle bound when it gets down to the action we are all gasping for!!
Are you going for slow romantic action, or do handcuffs come into it?
Best regards
M.

[HouseWife]

Nice easy flow to Chapt 2 and you set the background and characters well. I enjoyed it.
Small quibble. Pectorial muscles are normally called "pecs" not "pecks."
Hope this guy is not muscle bound when it gets down to the action we are all gasping for!! Thank you for your words!

Are you going for slow romantic action, or do handcuffs come into it?
Best regards
M.

You will have to wait and see!! :-)

[Emil Miller]

:lol::lol: Absolutely hilarious, I haven't laughed so much since reading Evelyn Waugh: what with pearly whites, pecks, buff arms, muscle tanks, six packs and muscle shirts, I thanked the Lord Mother for Google.

I'm all agog for chapter three.

[HouseWife]

:lol::lol: Absolutely hilarious, I haven't laughed so much since reading Evelyn Waugh: what with pearly whites, pecks, buff arms, muscle tanks, six packs and muscle shirts, I thanked the Lord Mother for Google.

I'm all agog for chapter three.

Glad I could make you laugh! Stay tuned for Chapter 3, coming some time today :-)

[HouseWife]

CHAPTER 3

He walked right up, as if he was there to see me. Had I mentioned where I worked? I didn't think so...

"I didn't know you worked here." He had a funny little smile on his face. "Workin' woman, with 2 jobs! I like that." He ordered a beer, flashed me a smile and walked back towards the front of the bar. With his back to us, Stephanie looked at me wide eyed, with a gaping smile on her face. I giggled and headed back out to the floor with my tray.

"Would you like a shot?" I flashed a flirtatious smile Brody's way.

"Would YOU like a shot?" I agreed, on the condition that he would do one with me. He tipped generously. It was pretty early in the night, so the crowd hadn't flowed in yet, I took it upon myself to sit down next to him. I glanced briefly in Chris' direction. He was occupied behind the bar.

"So? You don't come here often? I don't think I've seen you here before."

"No, I haven't been here in a while" he replied. "I was just bored sitting at home, and I live just around the corner. A few friends might pop in later. What about you? How long have you worked here?"

"It's been about a year now, actually. And I've been at the restaurant for 3 years. I'm a busy woman, that's for sure."

"I see that. It's nice to see an independent woman, working for her money. Not like so many other girls that I'm used to, they just want you for your money and that's it."

I was confused as to why he was telling me this. Was this his way of hitting on me? Had he had a few too many to drink? I just nodded along and and tried to laugh it off, until thanking him, and continuing on my rounds.

---

I watched as some of the regular crowd flooded in, about 45 minutes later, Brody still sitting firmly in his seat. He would get up and grab a beer every now and again, and flash a little smile my way, every time I walked by him. As the bar started filling up, I noticed a few girls make their way towards him. I knew these girls, they weren't the girls you would bring home to your mother. His earlier statement about independent woman started to make sense. Many people knew these girls, and the reputation that went along with them. I minded my own business for the rest of the night, and watched him leave with a crowd a people, including those girls, around 2AM. Chris and I headed home around 3:15, and headed for bed. We were intimate that night. Nothing overly special, just the usual. Some kissing, a bit of foreplay and the deed itself. I fell asleep around 4:45AM and dreamt of sparkling blue eyes and sculpted, faceless, bodies. I woke up for work 5 hours later, feeling very frustrated and exhausted.

---

I could feel the bags under my eyes. Not to mention my constant yawning. I only started work at 1, but having gone to bed so late, my lack of sleep was catching up with me. It was a quiet day at the restaurant, and I stood at the counter lost in thought. Staring off into space, I noticed a familiar body walk by and sit down in the food court. I could not escape him. It was like he was every where I turned, and it was starting to drive me crazy. I kept myself busy for the next 10 minutes, but noticed him getting up to leave. I watched him empty his tray into the trash, and before he turned to walk away, he looked into the restaurant and our eyes met. He smiled, I melted, and he disappeared into the crowd.

---

"I have a problem," I explained to Carol, my best friend. We saw each other every other day or so, and talked on the phone daily. "There's this guy, blue eyes, and I keep seeing him every where. I'm not sure how I feel about it. He's been in the restaurant a couple times, and he was at the bar the other night."

"Okay, and what exactly is your problem?"

"He's so hot... I'm not sure that there's much else to him to be honest." We both cracked up laughing. "He has these ridiculous blue eyes, and his body Carol.. Words can't even describe. I don't think I've ever felt an attraction to someone like this. And I hardly know him! Ugh, what's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, you're a woman, and he's a good looking man, and it happens. Just keep your distance and it will pass."

---

A few months passed by, and I tried my very best to keep my distance, but to no avail. Everywhere I went, there he was. Walking home from work, he would be walking home from the gym, which was a block from my house. His trips to the food court became more frequent, and more obvious. And the same with his visits to the bar. It was never anything too over bearing. He would come say hi, we'd flirt, chat, and that would be it. The harder I tried to avoid him, the more I would see him, and Carol was very wrong about the feeling passing, if anything, it was getting worse.

It had come up in conversation one night when Brody was at the bar, that I had a boyfriend, Chris and him even met and exchanged words. Chris didn't seem to notice anything other than me making a new a friend. This didn't surprise me. He wasn't the jealous type. We'd known each other for almost 15 years and I always male friends, even during the course of different relationships. Friends. Funny word to use, although I actually felt that we had become just that. I would talk to him about certain problems, and he would do the same. It started getting comfortable, but never crossed that line.

It had been about 6 months since Brody and I started talking and seeing each other around. When we would see each other in passing, it never lasted less than 25 minutes, even just standing on the street corner, we would talk and talk. We talked about Chris, and about Brody's on-again, off-again ex girlfriend. We talked about our families and our dreams and our goals.

---

As winter came and went, Chris lost his job at the retail outlet, and we started struggling a little more. I tried not to blame him for our problems, but fighting about money, some how always led to fighting about everything else. It got to the point where I could hardly be around him without fighting, and I made the decision to take some space away and stay with my mom. Over that week, I didn't see much of Brody, but I took the oportunity to explore, none the less, and invited him to exchange numbers. We started talking consistently throughout the days. I just talked with him about my issues, and he talked me through them, wanting me to do what made me happy. I mostly spent my time with Carol and Stephanie, and thinking over what it is I wanted to do. After 2 weeks of me time, I decided my relationship was worth the work, and moved back into the house with Chris. It was rocky but we tried to work through it. He found a new job, and things were starting to seem stable again.

Once the money started flowing regularly again, Chris was invited to poker every Wednesday. At first I thought nothing of it, until the first poker night came and I knew that I'd be home alone for the next 4 hours. When the thought of Brody crossed my mind, I had instant butterflies, and thought I would puke all over my living room. I kept my composure, and decided to shoot him a message. It would be the first message since I came back to my house with Chris. I kept it simple and straightforward. "What are you doing tonight? I'm alone for the next 4 hours."

TO BE CONTINUED.

[Emil Miller]

Nice to see Ol' blue eyes is back but I did miss the pearly whites.

[MANICHAEAN]

Dear Marie
Thank you for a truly interactive and enjoyable thread.
Some other classic lines you might like to introduce:

Maiden : "Oh I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you."

Muscles: "Don't worry your pretty little head. We will think of something!"

[HouseWife]

Dear Marie
Thank you for a truly interactive and enjoyable thread.
Some other classic lines you might like to introduce:

Maiden : "Oh I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you."

Muscles: "Don't worry your pretty little head. We will think of something!"

LOL I will keep that in mind! Stay tuned, the best is yet to come!!

[Calidore]

Here's another classic:

Evil Landlord: "You must pay the rent!"

Maiden: "But I can't pay the rent!"

Evil Landlord: "You must pay the rent!"

Maiden: "But I can't pay the rent!"

Hero: "I'll pay the rent!"

Maiden: "My hero!"

Evil Landlord: "Curses, foiled again!"

[HouseWife]

Here's another classic:

Evil Landlord: "You must pay the rent!"

Maiden: "But I can't pay the rent!"

Evil Landlord: "You must pay the rent!"

Maiden: "But I can't pay the rent!"

Hero: "I'll pay the rent!"

Maiden: "My hero!"

Evil Landlord: "Curses, foiled again!"

Lmfao, not sure if I'll be able to fit anything like that in there! But I'll see what I can do haha!

[Scheherazade]

Here's another classic:

Evil Landlord: "You must pay the rent!"

Maiden: "But I can't pay the rent!"

Evil Landlord: "You must pay the rent!"

Maiden: "But I can't pay the rent!"

Hero: "I'll pay the rent!"

Maiden: "My hero!"

Evil Landlord: "Curses, foiled again!"Oh, did you read At the Mercy of the Landlord too?

[Calidore]

Oh, did you read At the Mercy of the Landlord too?

Not that I know of; never heard of it. That particular exchange has been burned into my memory since childhood, except for the source. I know it was on television, a kids' show, because it was a kid performing it solo with one prop: a hair bow(maiden)/bowtie (hero)/mustache (landlord) that he moved to show who was speaking. The show might actually have been Zoom.

[AuntShecky]

I heard that Canadian women worried about their weight don't bother with Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem et al. All they have to do is join a hockey team. Every time they remove their equipment and uniforms, they drop twenty pounds.

[HouseWife]

I heard that Canadian women worried about their weight don't bother with Weight Watchers, Nutrisystem et al. All they have to do is join a hockey team. Every time they remove their equipment and uniforms, they drop twenty pounds.

Lol I was never into Hockey! Watching it, of course, but playing it? Nahh! I was a volleyball girl!

[Steven Hunley]

Well, it's as you say, short and straightforward. Now comes, what we call in the U.S., the juicy part.

[HouseWife]

He invited me over, but I was skeptical. He had friends over. We lived in a small enough town. Would I know them? Would they know me? Would they know my boyfriend? Would they open their mouths to people who knew me?? I was nervous, anxious, and excited all at the same time. I could feel it in my chest, through my stomach, down into my loins. He read off a few names of people who were there. None of them were familiar. I decided to take the chance.

---

His friends were cool. I was able to relax after about a half hour of being there. They were all drinking beer and chatting and laughing. I stayed sober and clear minded, in case I had to act quick. I kept in touch with Chris, asking how the game was going, getting an idea of when he thought he'd be home. We were all engaging in some light conversation, nothing serious, and nothing awkward. I wasn't sure how much they knew. Did they know I had a boyfriend? I was about to get my answer.

"So, do you have any cute freinds?" asked the one friend, Austin. He was a little scruffy, and wasn't really the type any of my freinds would go for. I attempted to brush it off;

"I don't really have any single friends, they all have boyfriends."

"Okay? Don't you have a boyfriend?"

They all laughed, including myself. I did find it somewhat amusing, in an ironic kind of way, but could still feel my face burning up, I looked down at my lap and giggled. Brody punched him lightly in the arm and jokingly told him to shut up.

The night went on pretty well, until his friends slowly started disappearing one by one. During this time a topic came up. A topic named Beth. Beth was Brody's on and off again, ex-girlfriend. We had discussed her briefly a couple times, but he was never too open about her. But then again, why would he be? They were broken up.... Right?

---

Eventually, it was just him and I. I tried to ask questions about Beth, but he kept it brief, as usual. They had been on and off for the last year, and they were currently off. She lived across town, and he didn't see her that often any more. I put the issue to rest, and tried to enjoy myself. We kept the conversation light and fun, until finally, I received the text message. It read "I lost, I'll be heading home shortly." I decided to call him to avoid confusion. He said he'd be walking home, which gave me enough time to safely do the same. I looked up at Brody with my sad gray eyes, and he knew our night was coming to an end.

"I'm really glad you decided to come hang out." He had that beautiful, pearly smile plastered across his face. As we were saying our goodbyes, I could feel a feeling of anticipation growing inside me. He leaned in to what looked like should have been a hug, and I knew then and there, there was no way I was letting this opportunity pass. I planted my lips firmly on his, before he even had the chance to oppose. He responded exactly as I'd hoped, and passionately kissed me back. The longer our lips were together, the more I wanted. He grabbed my waist hard and pulled me closer. He had thin lips, not something I was used to, but his tongue made up for it. He was gentle, yet aggressive, and I knew the feeling I was feeling, was definitely mutual. He pulled away, and looked at me with those amazing eyes. I was swooning, smiling like a child on Christmas. His eyes traced mine, and down to my lips, and he simply said, "I did not expect that.." I smiled and looked down.

"Thanks for having me..." I turned around and walked out. I took my time walking home, and when I got there, I crawled into bed. Chris arrived home shortly after, and I pretended to be asleep. I had too many things going through my mind, that I did not want interrupted. He got into bed, kissed me lightly on the cheek, and rolled over. I drifted off, into a peaceful sleep.

---

The next day was a haze, I hardly remember the details. I went about my home life as normal as possible, and Chris didn't seem to notice the change in me. Was there even a change in me? I had never been one to cheat, nor did I think I ever would be. My nerves were a little shaky here and there through out the day, but nothing too unsettling. I worked a short shift that day, and got home in the afternoon to relax. I sprawled out on the couch with my tablet, and decided to check Facebook. I wasn't really into it, and hardly ever logged on, but my curiosity got the best of me, and the first thing I did when I logged in, was type into the search bar "Brody Richmire." I saw the profile picture and clicked on it. Being that we had been "friends" for the last 6 months or so, I figured I'd test my limit, and clicked the link "Add Friend." I smirked to myself, laid the tablet down, and dosed off into a dreamless nap.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HouseWife]

Feel free to leave me feedback, what you like and what you don't like! :-)

[Emil Miller]

Feel free to leave me feedback, what you like and what you don't like! :-)

Don't tempt me :lol:

[HouseWife]

Don't tempt me :lol:

Please do! Positive or negative!

[MANICHAEAN]

Ah ha. The ice is broken at last and soon we get down to the main course.
Keep it up!
M

[Emil Miller]

Please do! Positive or negative!

Interestingly enough, one of your compatriots won the 2012 Literary Review's Bad Sex Award. I do hope your story manages to avoid a similar fate as, so far, it's been quite anodyne but perhaps it's as well to remember that explicit sexual descriptions are often used as a substitute for bad writing.


Bad sex award goes to Nancy Huston's 'babies and bedazzlements'

Infrared, by much garlanded Canadian novelist, wins dubious honour for explicit writing

A long, shuddering gasp of relief will no doubt have been heard from the losers, as the Canadian author Nancy Huston scooped the least coveted book award of the year, the Literary Review's Bad Sex prize, for her 14th novel, Infrared, about a woman who likes to snap her lovers in the throes of passion.


The judges were seduced by her vivid imagery, which included such descriptions as "flesh, that archaic kingdom that brings forth tears and terrors, nightmares, babies and bedazzlements", and "my sex swimming in joy like a fish in water".

[Calidore]

The judges were seduced by her vivid imagery, which included such descriptions as "flesh, that archaic kingdom that brings forth tears and terrors, nightmares, babies and bedazzlements", and "my sex swimming in joy like a fish in water".

Good lord. Although as the Bulwer-Lytton and Best of Bad Hemingway contests show, creating true badness does take talent. At least the above isn't boring-bad.

HouseWife, you requested criticisms, so here's a couple based on the first chapter:

Positive: You can spell and put a sentence together, and apparently did some proofing and editing. It's always nice to see someone post a draft suitable for reading. The words also flow well, and you seem comfortable with writing in general. (Note: short numbers are traditionally be spelled out: "five years", "two-bedroom")

Negative: The main character of your story may be bored, hence the affair, but you don't want her to be boring, especially if she's also narrating. The reader can't sympathize with a cipher. It may say something that the bulk of the commenting is anticipation of the promised 18+ material as opposed to the actual story or characters. If your leads have something interesting about them, start dropping crumbs as early as possible.

[Emil Miller]

[QUOTE=Calidore;1240717]Good lord. Although as the Bulwer-Lytton and Best of Bad Hemingway contests show, creating true badness does take talent. At least the above isn't boring-bad. QUOTE]

It does indeed but only if the amusment is intentional, which is why hilarious extracts such as these are worthy of the award:


Ed King by David Guterson: Bad sex award extract.
Memory and worship combine in this extract from David Guterson's Ed King, nominated for the 2011 Bad sex award:
·
It was fine with Ed to spend a half-hour massaging her feet and squeezing her ankles, followed by nearly equal devoted caressing of her shins and calves; next, moving up, he gave substantial attention to her knees and thighs, and when, in her massage trance, she hoped and believed that his hands would surely go where they would do the most good, Ed didn't go there……

It triggered memories with the uncanny force of déjà vu, and what she thought of, as Ed slaved away, was a boy from her village who had fingered her adroitly in a greenhouse thick with green tomatoes.

It didn't take long for the beautiful and perfect Ed King to ejaculate for the fifth time in twelve hours, while looking like Roman public-bath statuary. Then they rinsed, dried, dressed, and went to an expensive restaurant for lunch.

[AuntShecky]

The author with whom many of us associate with the so-called "Bad Sex in Writing Award" is Tom Wolfe (http://www.theguardian.com/books/2004/dec/14/awardsandprizes.badsexaward1), but reading that linked article about other dubious honorees made me believe that a steamy passage couldn't get any more ludicrous than "he peeled her like a kiwi fruit."

There's an inherent difficulty about writing about sex that goes beyond merely being convincing.So much art and literature has been devoted to the subject throughout the ages, and so much has been written about the topic, that creating anything about sex that is original and new is damned near impossible. A big danger is unconscious self-parody. That might be the reason that the only successful fiction about sex is comic--by that I mean intentionally humorous.

The original poster may very well have had humor as the ultimate intended effect. I am sorry to say, alas, that the actual writing in this thread hasn't yet impressed me in a positive way. In addition to careless typos and compositional flaws (comma splices* and the like), this piece seems to me to be too straightforward, literal, linear, and banal -- "I said" and "he said" "Then I did this, and he did this. . ." etc. The writing skill sadly remains on the level of jotting down items a grocery list.


*
Don't separate your subject and verb with a comma.

Down and Dirty Punctuation Guide (http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?56601-Auntie-s-Down-and-Dirty-Punctuation-Guide)

[Steven Hunley]

The author with whom many of us associate with the so-called "Bad Sex in Writing Award" is Tom Wolfe (http://www.theguardian.com/books/2004/dec/14/awardsandprizes.badsexaward1), but reading that linked article about other dubious honorees made me believe that a steamy passage couldn't get any more ludicrous than "he peeled her like a kiwi fruit."

There's an inherent difficulty about writing about sex that goes beyond merely being convincing.So much art and literature has been devoted to the subject throughout the ages, so much has been written about the topic, that writing anything about sex that is original and new is damn near impossible. A big danger is unconscious self-parody. That might be the reason that the only successful fiction about sex is comic--by that I mean intentionally humorous.

The original poster may very well have had humor as the intended effect. I am sorry to say, alas, that the actual writing in this thread hasn't yet impressed me in a positive way. It seems to me to be somewhat banal and too straightforward-- "I said" and "he said" "Then I did this, and he did this. . ." etc. The writing skill sadly remains on the level of jotting down a grocery list.

Auntie has a valid point here. There may be no crumbs to drop. There may be no promised fruit to harvest, because, as she's mentioned, the subject has been covered too many times in the past. It's a hard racket to break into successfully. It's not easy being inventive or covering such a subject in a new and novel manner. It's like expecting a home run from a batter that by her own admittance is stepping up to the erotic plate for the first time. I, for one, wouldn't care to be in her sexual athletic shoes.

[Emil Miller]

Tom Wolfe did indeed win the award in 2004 for sex scenes in “I Am Charlotte Simmons.” The title alone is enough to deter discriminating readers from buying it.

While the award is all in good fun, it does have a serious intent: Literary Review established the award in 1993. The winner gets a trophy depicting a naked woman draped over an open book. According to a 2002 BBC article, the award is supposed to “draw attention to the crude, tasteless, often perfunctory use of redundant passages of sexual description in the modern novel, and to discourage it."

Unfortunately, it hasn't deterred some authors from embarrassing themselves. A good example is this extract from Craig Raine's The Divine Comedy:

“And he came. Like a wubbering springboard. His ejaculate jumped the length of her arm." Which leaves the reader wondering more about the word 'wubbering' than the ejaculation.

In an article about the Bad Sex Awards, the Guardian newspaper hits the nail squarely on the head when it says in relation to male writers ' But too many men offer us the fantasies of grownup schoolboys.'

[mona amon]

The original poster may very well have had humor as the ultimate intended effect. I am sorry to say, alas, that the actual writing in this thread hasn't yet impressed me in a positive way. In addition to careless typos and compositional flaws (comma splices* and the like), this piece seems to me to be too straightforward, literal, linear, and banal -- "I said" and "he said" "Then I did this, and he did this. . ." etc. The writing skill sadly remains on the level of jotting down items a grocery list.


*
Don't separate your subject and verb with a comma.

Down and Dirty Punctuation Guide (http://www.online-literature.com/forums/showthread.php?56601-Auntie-s-Down-and-Dirty-Punctuation-Guide)

I think it is the way she posts the story in instalments, the promise of something good to come, the comments from the guys, her own perky replies, and the more serious comments on how to write sex scenes that work - it is the interaction of all these elements that make this thread so much fun. :D

[HouseWife]

Good lord. Although as the Bulwer-Lytton and Best of Bad Hemingway contests show, creating true badness does take talent. At least the above isn't boring-bad.

HouseWife, you requested criticisms, so here's a couple based on the first chapter:

Positive: You can spell and put a sentence together, and apparently did some proofing and editing. It's always nice to see someone post a draft suitable for reading. The words also flow well, and you seem comfortable with writing in general. (Note: short numbers are traditionally be spelled out: "five years", "two-bedroom")

Negative: The main character of your story may be bored, hence the affair, but you don't want her to be boring, especially if she's also narrating. The reader can't sympathize with a cipher. It may say something that the bulk of the commenting is anticipation of the promised 18+ material as opposed to the actual story or characters. If your leads have something interesting about them, start dropping crumbs as early as possible.

Very helpful, thank you!

[HouseWife]

I appreciate all your words! To be perfectly honest, I have always loved writing, but not fiction. I'm more into essays and comparative literature. I've never really been good with short stories and poems. I took writers craft in high school, but that was so long ago, and I was too busy getting high to really put any effort. The thing with this story is that it's based on true events, events from the past, so it's like trying to recollect something that happened, PLUS putting a fictional spin on it. Not to mention, it's not events that I, myself have experienced, but merely things that have been told to me in great detail. The subject is aware of what I'm doing and she tries to give me details the best she can remember them, but like I said, I'm also trying to put a fictional spin on it as well. I will keep all your words in mind, as I carry forward. Maybe I shouldn't have posted this in the short story section, as it will turn out to be rather long, but I hope you all stay with me, and continue to give me feedback. I hope I don't bore you either. Maybe one day I can take all my sections, and all your advice and turn it into something great. Thank you all again, for your words.

[HouseWife]

I woke up from my nap and glanced around the house, I was still alone. Was Chris at work? What time was it? I remembered what I had done before napping, and anxiously logged back into Facebook. One new notification. I smiled and clicked it; it read "Brody Richmire accepted your friend request." I tossed my body back on to the couch in a fit of giggles, until I heard the keys rustling outside the door. I sat up straight and looked at Coco as she ran to the door to welcome Chris home. He walked in, smiled my way, and threw his things on to the kitchen table.

---

It was another quiet night in. Netflix, and of course a glass of wine... or two. I kept myself distanced from Chris that night and sat on the other end of the sectional, with my phone in hand at all times. I shot Brody a msg wishing him a good night, with a little wink attached. He reciprocated; "Sweet dreams gorgeous (;" I tried my best to hide a ridiculous grin. We went to bed a short time after.

As Chris got into bed, I turned my back to him. He came up from behind me and started kissing my neck. I pulled away slightly, turned around, kissed him on the lips, and told him I was tired. He made a short fuss, until finally turning the other way and going to sleep. I breathed a sigh of relief and passed out cold. My dreams weren't so sweet that night. The details weren't very clear, but I woke up in a sweat, with a feeling of panic in my stomach. I looked around the dark bedroom, and at the clock. Three in the morning. I took a few deep breaths, and laid back down. The rest of my sleep was restless and uncomfortable; I woke up tired and confused.

I tried hard to see Brody the rest of that week, whether it be on my walk home from work, or on my lunch break. I would message him and let him know what my schedule was like, and he seemed to be enjoying it. He would come meet me for lunch, and even walk me home some times. We kept our distance in public, although it was hard to keep my composure. Come Friday night, I was dying to put my hands on him. I worked that night, and so did Chris. I took my chances and invited Brody to come out to the bar. He told me he was having some friends over that night, and that I'd probably see him.

TO BE CONTINUED

[Steven Hunley]

Just a thought. To keep your female protagonist from seeming flighty, or just out for a tryst, you may want to make Chris less likable. It's not that he's likable, but just that he's not unlikable or distant. Give us a reason why she's contemplating a paramour. Make him too aggressive, or too distant, or cold, whatever. Then the readers will sanction the new liaison, in fact they'll want it.

[HouseWife]

OH don't you worry about Chris, you won't like him for much longer lol.

[HouseWife]

I was doing my rounds, it was a quiet start to the night, but I didn't mind. It had been a long week, and although I was looking forward to making some extra cash, I was enjoying the relaxation of the small crowd. I stepped outside to get some air, and saw a few different crowds heading our way, from different directions. I watched closely looking for Brody, but didn't see him. Chris stepped out and lit a cigarette, he came up to me and wrapped his arms around me, I followed suit. We stood there for a few moments, and I headed back in to make another round. By 1 AM the bar was packed, and still no sign of Brody. A surge of disappointment flowed through me as last call quickly approached. I was about ready to start clearing out my area, and counting my cash.

I walked around did a few tours of the bathrooms to ensure their cleanliness, stuck my tray in the dishwasher and dumped out my money behind the bar, to start counting. At about 1:55 I looked up and saw Brody sitting at the bar looking straight at me, without thought, I smile stretched across my face. At that particular moment, Chris walked up behind Brody, and came around to see me behind the bar, he planted a kiss firmly on my cheek and then continued on his business. I blushed and watch Brody as his eyes narrowed. Chris walked away and disappeared up the stairs to count his cash. I stuffed my cash into my apron, walked up to Brody and told him to follow me. I glanced around for Carol, she had been at the bar that night. Our eyes met, she looked at me, looked at Brody, and followed us. The 3 of us carefully glanced around, and seeing no one who mattered, Brody and I snuck out the back door, and Carol locked it behind us.

I didn't wait another second, I grabbed him by his sweater and pulled him close to me. The long awaited contact was almost too much to handle. We kissed passionately and I lost myself in the moment. He grabbed at my hips, pulled me close, moved his lips from mine, onto my neck, nibbling at my skin and at my ear lobe. His hands moved from hips and explored my ribs and my back. I rubbed my hands over his biceps and his chest. He pushed harder at my face and moved me up against the wall. I didn't want to stop, but the anxiety in my stomach slowly started to build. I pulled my lips away from him and stared into his crystal blue eyes. I hadn't noticed til that moment how chiseled his jaw line was, it made me want him more. He stared back into my eyes and a devilish grin spread across his face; "You're naughty," he said in a low husky tone.

"You like it."

"I do," he admitted.

Being that the bar was closing he went in the other direction, to head home, as I made my way back towards the main entrance, in front of the bar. There was no one standing outside, thankfully, I knocked lightly for a bounce to let me in. I went in and headed upstairs to count my cash.

---

The more I talked to Brody, the harder it got to be around him in public. The time we spent together, was getting more frequent, and more intense. I constantly wanted my hands on him. He would come meet me for lunch and we would go out, and we would talk late at night through text message. When we would run into each other on the streets, we would sneak away to an alley for 5-10 minutes and kiss like we were high school sweethearts. It wasn't long before Chris started noticing a change.

"Can we please spend some quality time together? I feel like you've been distant."

"Chris, you know I'm busy, work has been crazy lately, and I'm just exhausted."

"It's not about that, it's about you, when you're here. You sit on the other side of the couch, and you're always engulfed in that stupid phone, or your tablet."

This wasn't the first time this argument has come up. Even before Brody and I started seeing each other Chris always had a problem with my love of technology. It wasn't even that I was always talking to other people, and indulging in social media, but I just enjoyed the concentration it took. I would read online books and articles, play games, research random events or information. To him, when we were together, me being on my tablet or phone, was not "being together." As much as I could understand his point of view, I didn't seem to want to change, especially with Brody now in the mix. I came up with excuses, and always seemed to turn the argument around on him. The farther this went on, the less I cared.

TO BE CONTINUED

[Emil Miller]

Well we are still in the land of Mills and Boon where crystal blue eyes and chiseled jaw lines are par for the course and (notwithstanding the bit of rough and tumble in the alley and barring the resort to expletives) it's on course for the Barbara Cartland award for romantic literature.
If I may make make a minor criticism, the use of the word 'snuck' as the past tense of sneak, although permissible in North America, is of fairly recent provenance and jars in the way that 'popsicle' :willy_nilly: does on sensitive English minds.

[MANICHAEAN]

Dear Housewife
Let's get down to the dirty deed pleeeese!!!!
I'm sure you started off with good intentions, but I'm ready to watch the cigeratte smoke drift towards the ceiling.
Let me start you off;

As she entered the bedroom she heard the door close, and turning round she saw him, a strange animal look in his Oxford blue, piercing eyes.

"Why did you close the door?" she breathlessly asked, though already knowing the finality of any answer.

"It's just that you might as well know that you're not going anywhere until this is over" he murmured in a soft voice.

"Now get your kit off, as I've got a present for you."

"But it's not my birthday!"

"It is now."

[Steven Hunley]

Or the housewife stood in the kitchen ironing. The steam was making her hair curl and her light pink cotton blouse to stick to her you-know-whats.

A knock came at the door.

Who's that?" she said, hoping against all hope it was a man, any man at all would have done. She was hot, she was sweaty and loaded on her own female phernomes, if that's how you spell them. I don't know how to spell the suckers.

"The meter man from The department of Hooliganism and Gas."

"Very well, come in,"

In pops the muscular masculine he-man guy.

"He's a quite muscular and gun metaled-blue-eyed fellow. I desire to have my way with him right here, right now, and make him....well....you know, do something triple-X-rated at the least, at LEAST!"

So she asks him, "After you're done, got time for a little in-out, in-out?" Then she considered her sexual appetite and added one more 'in-out'.

He gives her sweaty form a cursory glance and her phernomes or whatever they are, are of no use. He has a head cold and can't smell a thing.

"Thank you no, just here to read the meter."

Please do get to it, or if not, to the foreplay. Don't let the country that sits on top of the USA like a party-hat down. As a Canadian, do your best.

[Emil Miller]

I feel that there is a certain amount of cofusion about the hero's eyes. In her original account, Housewife refers to them as being crystal blue which seems at odds with both Oxford blue and gun metaled blue. Now I'm sure that many will dismiss this point as being somewhat pedantic but it's this sort of thing that can make or break a story.