Six Sentence Sunday

Once again, we're doing a Six Sentence Sunday blog, six sentences taken from our work in progress, Same Time Tomorrow, that caught our eyes....

"So how was your day, Pussy?"

You'd think he would have gladly accepted my offer to give him an impromptu vasectomy, but he took one look at my epee and promptly vomited.

"The Hey Yous are rednecks, anyway, and they always marry their cousins."

"On your best day, and my worst day, you don't stand a bloody chance."

She had finally untied him, had let him get carried away with his hands, had been tender with him...

"At the very least, you know... you need to get naked every once in awhile with someone you love."

Massages: Hands On And All Over

A pair of passages from our work in progress....

They returned to her place in the mid-afternoon, the apartment quiet, and she turned to him, her smile light and playful. Gabriel couldn’t help but smile back. “You know, we’ve got some time on our hands,” he remarked as they settled in.

“What did you have in mind?” Chloe asked.

“In the bedroom,” he suggested, nodding.

“You like to get right to it,” she exclaimed.

“Not quite yet,” he said with a laugh, taking her by the hand. They walked into the bedroom, and his eyes fell on the bed, his thoughts turning to what they’d been up to last night and this morning. Could I ever get enough of her? He shook his head. No, I can’t. Gabriel smiled to himself. Patience, lad, patience, he told himself, and stepped behind her, reaching up to her hair, undoing the braid, letting her hair fall down around her shoulders.

Chloe was silent, and he reached his hands around her, carefully undoing the buttons on her blouse. He gently slid it away from her shoulders, setting it aside on a nearby chair. Gabriel pulled off his shirt, and then drew Chloe close, one hand undoing the strap of her bra, the other coming around her, pulling the bra away. His fingers moved over her bare breasts, his hands stroking, cupping them. She groaned in pleasure, her back against him.

Gabriel let his hands slide down her bare stomach, settling at her waist. One hand unbuckled her belt, the other undid her pants. He slid them down, over her hips, letting them drop to the floor, and her panties went next. Just being in such close proximity with her body was more than enough to drive him crazy, and he let his fingers briefly make contact with the soft curls around her pussy, hearing her sigh in response. Patience, he told himself. He withdrew his hands, and softly said, “I’d like you on the bed.” Well, that’s the understatement of the year, he thought with a smirk. I’d also like you in the kitchen, the living room, the bathtub, out on the balcony...

She settled on the bed, and he gazed at her, craved every bit of her. He unbuckled his jeans, sliding them off, followed by his underwear and socks. He was as hard as he could be, turned on, and yet he would take his time, enjoy every moment of this... It’ll just take a hell of a lot of discipline. She smiled, her eyes inviting, and asked, “Enjoying the view, Gabriel?”

“Very much,” he replied. “Turn over, Chloe.”

She turned, lying on her stomach. “Like so?”

“Yes.” He sat beside her, his eyes wandering over her bare body. More than a hell of a lot of discipline, he decided. “I think you need a massage,” he told her, his hands settling onto the back of her upper thighs, starting to caress, ever gentle. Chloe groaned softly at his touch, clearly enjoying what he was doing.

“Just as long as I can return the favour,” she said with a contented sigh.

                                                ***

It didn't matter what he was doing. Just his touch was enough for Chloe. It was enough to send her to the brink of ecstasy. His hands on her naked flesh made her go crazy in lust. His gaze was enough to bring her to orgasm. Can't tell him that, she thought as he continued to caress her--and to her his touch felt more like sensual caressing than a massage. Don't want him to stop.

"You're incredible," he told her.

"Funny--I was about to say the same thing to you," she said.

"Turn over," he said. She rolled over onto her back again, her legs parted. Gabriel smiled. "Is that an invitation?" he asked as he gently massaged her fingers, hands and wrists.

She regarded him with a seductive smile. "For you, always." He bent down to kiss her as he started massaging her arms and shoulders. He moved lower, caressing her breasts. Her nipples were hard. "Any chance you might give them a massage?" she asked.

He smiled. "An excellent chance."

"Good. They're really tense, as you can see."

"Indeed I can." His fingers worked each one, driving her wild with desire. Her legs opened wider, an invitation turning to a plea for quick release.

"Now, Gabriel...please," she begged.

"Not yet," he said firmly. He moved away from her breasts and moved downward, over her belly, down her legs, deliberately avoiding her pussy. She moaned, wanting his hands there, needing them there... but he refused to give her that release until he'd massaged every other part of her. "Patience," he whispered. Finally, his hands made their way back up her legs, his fingers caressing the insides of her thighs, touching her there....

Her orgasm came almost immediately, leaving her trembling but satisfied. When she finally spoke, her voice was hoarse. "On your stomach, lover. It's your turn."

Six Sentence Sunday

Another selection of sentences from our work in progress; the first three are from Scarlett, the latter three are from James.....


Before he could finish, Gabriel's fist connected with his jaw, sending him crashing into a nearby table.

"When I met you, I was still looking for my knight, my prince--and I'd kissed a lot of frogs."

"If I've learned anything from what Mom's going through, it's that life is far too short."

She's seen her way through losing a daughter.

Olivia smiled in a wicked way. "You know, Gabriel, you're not at all my type, of course, but I'm going to have a difficult time picturing you not naked."

"I think you need a massage," he told her, his hands settling onto the back of her upper thighs, starting to caress.

Anatomy Of A Drunken Prat

Among other things we've been writing in the book lately (when we haven't been distracted to no end by each other) have been some rather unusual moments. From the wrong people getting an eyeful of some rather... personal photographs and a near drowning in a bathtub, to what we're in the middle of right now (two words: mutual massages), it's been an eye opening experience.

In the middle of all that, however, we wrote a passage that wasn't so pleasant. A character turned up in our narrative, a rather nasty piece of work. We've written him before, and it was time to bring him back.

Jeremy is, among other things, a full blown alcoholic. In his recent appearance, he's already drunk well before noon. He's also a womanizing letch, a boor, a jerk, and a creep. In other words, a real prize.

Without going into too much detail about his connections to our characters, we wrote him very much as a vicious, cruel, and even sadistic man. While it might be possible with characters who are jerks to be redeemed, we agree that's not going to happen with this guy. While we have ideas for future books, the Redemption of Jeremy Hayward is not one of them. This is a man very much set in his ways, a complete bastard.

Our character's responses to him were very much true to who they are. And Jeremy's personality is very true to who he is. This is the sort of person we've all known at one time or another. The drunken in-law. The obnoxious former friend who's gone downhill. The boozing, angry neighbor who's one drink away from driving drunk and killing an entire family.

Writing the relationship between our lead characters, and the other characters in their lives, has been a blessing. They're people we've gotten to know and like. Yet there's also a need as writers to create characters we don't like. Jeremy's certainly one such example. At least he's a fictional creation.

Now, if you'll excuse us, we've got some massages to get to. Oh, and write.