Tuesday 25 June 2013

"Just for Tonight"

Hello again everyone!

My latest, Just For Tonight, has just been published online.  After my most recent title (Dating a Dickgirl) overran its planned length, I had intended to keep this story to 10,000 words; I seem to have a problem when pulling in loquacious characters to act out a story; they just don't know when to be quiet and so the dialogue - and the story - run far longer than planned.  I carefully interviewed all the characters in this title before writing it, just to make sure they weren't going to talk on and on past the "The End" announcement on the final page.

The result?  I stopped almost 2,000 words short of my goal, at 8,100 words.  They'd already said everything they wanted, and there wasn't really anything else to write past that point.  But there might be a sequel, if my readers warm to these characters...

Here's the sales pitch:

Mike and Andrea each have rooms in a house; they are suddenly required to vacate their home during a police investigation.  Their landlady allocates them rooms in another house but, through a communications failure, they have to stay the night together in a garden shed.  During the night, they witness strangers performing lewd and fetish acts together on the lawn outside, which awakens their own passion for sex. But in the early hours of the morning, the police arrive and they find themselves thrown into separate prison cells. What have they done to deserve this? Will these two still be attracted to each other when everything has been resolved?

And here's an extract to whet your appetite - taken from midway through the story:

   “I don’t think I’ve ever got myself that drunk,” Andrea said.
   “Really?  And you’re a student?  Then you don’t mix in some of the student circles I’ve seen in town on a Saturday night.”
   “My parents gave me a strict upbringing.”
   “But you’re off the leash now.  There’s nobody here to report back to them.”
   “There is.  Becky, the other girl who lives in the house, is a close friend of my family and we take care of each other.  If she stepped out of line, I’d be expected to let her father know about it.”
   “But Becky’s not here tonight.  You can unwind.  I won’t say anything.”
   “Meaning?”
   “Meaning you can do as you please.  And I don’t have any alcohol or drugs hidden here, so there’s no stimulant or anything else that can lead you astray.  If there’s anything you’ve never done that you’ve wanted to do, you’ve got until Becky returns.  Just let yourself go.”
   We heard two loud voices, and looked out of the window.  We saw a man and a woman, probably in their thirties, and they were pretty obviously drunk... or they’d been taking drugs.  They were laughing - almost hysterically - and pulling at their jeans.  It soon became evident that they were going to take them off.  They seemed unconcerned; it was getting dark now anyway and, when they were half naked, we couldn’t discern exactly what they were doing.
   I noticed Andrea’s face was glued to the window.
   “Curious?” I asked.  “The torch is flickering - the batteries are failing.  There’s nothing else to do, so I’m taking an early night.”  I sat in the chair and covered myself in an old coat I’d found.  I closed my eyes.
   “It’s not a bad idea.  It’s nearly ten anyway.”  I heard her take off her clothes and climb into the sleeping bag.  She zipped it up, shutting me out from any perceived temptation.
   After five minutes of silence in the shed, I began to feel warm so I removed most of my clothes.  By the time I’d finished, I was down to my underpants, but I made sure that Andrea hadn’t noticed. 
   I returned to the chair seat, trying to get to sleep, trying to ignore the noise of the party-goers outside.
   Andrea was silent; I assumed she’d managed to doze.  After tossing and turning a couple of times, I must have got to sleep too because I remember waking up abruptly.  A light had been switched on, bathing the interior of the shed in a golden glow.  I opened my eyes; a mass of light was pouring through the window.  I got up to look, but found Andrea looking out already.
   “Look, Mike!" she called.  "They’ve turned on the lights round the lawn.  I won’t get back to sleep now.  And I’ve got a tutorial in the morning.  I have to be alert for that.”
   Ground lights had been placed round the border of the lawn, introducing a theatrical appearance to the activities of the guests who were now frolicking together - all naked - in some kind of drunken stupour.
 
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I do hope you enjoy this story.  Another offering is scheduled early next month.

Best wishes
Chris

Wednesday 19 June 2013

Dating a Dickgirl - a novella for Futa fans


My Muse visited me around 3 a.m. one morning, while I was trying to get back to sleep, and suggested a new short story to me.  I'd finished Illusions, and was selling quite well, and Muse gave me the outline of a new tale I could write about a woman who'd actually had a modification to her sexual apparatus.  So, when I had time to spare, I began writing Dating a Dickgirl.

Here's the blurb - with an extract:

Leslie meet Ashley during a speed-dating event, and he's immediately attracted to her.  During their first date, his hand brushes against her crotch accidentally, and he wonders if she really is what she seems; as he gets to know her, it's apparent that she has secrets and he begins to lose interest in her... although he'd like to know exactly what she's hiding, and why.  Then he lands a date with Katie, a widow he met while speed-dating, and - after a shaky start - she presents him with a kinky range of sexual delights.  But when Ashley finally unveils her secret to Leslie - literally - his libido goes wild.  She has immense wealth and makes him an extraordinary offer, but would it guarantee him happiness forever?  There's only room in his life for one girl; which one is the right one for him?

EXTRACT:

          “Have you used sex toys, Leslie?”
          “What do you mean, Katie?  Handcuffs and other BDSM stuff?”
          “No.  I bought a vibrator to use to finish off if he couldn’t do it for me, but - in the end - I used it on myself while he was out.  And I even bought one of those strap-on dildo things.  I’d heard some men enjoy anal sex - if you can reach up to their prostate, you can get them to come that way, without the need for a hand-job.”
          “But were they designed to go up a man’s anus?”  I asked.  “I’m sure the ones I’ve seen would be too thick to go up mine.”
          “We could try later, if you wanted.”  Her eyes lit up.
          “Some other time, perhaps.  Let’s be conventional, just tonight, and see what happens.”
          “As you wish.  But you admitted you were an adventurous sort of person.”
          “I never used toys.  No: I had a fetish and my last girlfriend wasn’t keen.”
          She looked at me expectantly.  When I didn’t enlarge on my last comment, she became impatient.  “Well?  Come on, Leslie.  I’m waiting.  What is this secret fetish you have?”
          “Golden showers, or watersports.  I enjoy watching women pee, or feeling them pee against my genitals.”
          “Oh, is that all?  I thought it was going to be something really wild and kinky.”
          “Well, she thought it was kinky.  And that I was a pervert for entertaining such thoughts.”
          “Leslie, you’re not a pervert.  Trust me.  I’d be happy to water your dick and balls for you, if it was going to turn you on.”
....
          Within the next fifteen minutes, we were on her sofa; I sat at one end, and she sprawled herself across its length with her head resting in my lap.  She looked up at me and smiled.  “I know that spending the afternoon watching that movie doesn’t come anywhere near the wonderful Saturday afternoon you gave me last week, but I have to tell you that I feel like I’m in heaven with you right now.”
          I caressed her hair.  We were both relaxing, listening to some soft romantic music.
          Without warning, she rolled over and, looking down at my fly, quickly unzipped it and fished out my prized possession.  “He's my special friend,” she announced.  Then her head sank down, taking my penis between her lips.
          My hand found its way up her skirt; when I realised she was wearing stockings, I felt my dick growing quickly.  My fingers traced onward until they found her anal crevice, and worked their way forward to touch the wet entrance to her vagina.
          She drew her head away from my lap and looked up at me.  “Shall we go to bed?”
          “I’m ready when you are.”
          “I need to pee first.  Shall we stop in the bathroom on the way?”


----------------

I started out with the aim of containing the whole narrative in a space of around 10,000 words, which follows my recent pattern of writing.  But other forces intervened.  A secondary character insisted on having a greater role in the story and, by the time I'd finished, the whole story came to nearly 30,000 words - a novella, rather than a short story.  And, from this, the idea for a prequel emerged - set six hundred years earlier, round an ancestor of one of the primary characters in Dating a Dickgirl; provisionally entitled Dickgirl in a Dungeon, this will follow just as soon as I've finished my new project, a contemporary short story.

I do hope you enjoy reading Dating a Dickgirl!

Best

Chrissie