Bethy Town

Because i cba retyping.. heres a copy of a reply to writing prompt

So here's the outline:

Ellie is working in her garden when she hears the new neighbours - Don and Val - having sex. Intrigued, she keeps listening, trying to find a place where she can get a view of them. She has her fingers down her shorts when suddenly she feels strong hands grab her waist and a cock press up against her.

“You like that, huh?” a voice rasped into Ellie’s ear, the hotness of its breath momentarily distracting her from the cock pushing against her back. Instinctively she knows it is not her husband’s aroused murmurings. It’s not familiar, she thinks, or is it?

“Hey. I said, you like that, huh?” His voice was less raspy. He demanded an answer and lacking a better option, Ellie nodded, her hand was still deep inside her shorts; fingers still against her panties.

“Listen to me carefully. Lean forward and hold your hands against this basket.” Ellie followed his instructions, her hand leaving a heat pattern over her labia and she involuntarily release a small sound of protest.

“Eyes forward, young lady.” Ellie focussed on the hedgerow opposite. When the breeze caught the branches, the fluttering leaves revealed glimpses of Don and Val; naked to the elements and in the full throes of pleasure. Ellie can feel her pussy swelling in anticipation, her breasts ache against her bra which is now failing to hold her breasts to her chest. Her tits hang at an almost 90° angle as she leans her hands onto the basket.

The unknown voice coughs and his cock is positioned lower on her bum. A hand moved from her waist and in an abrupt movement, slides 2 fingers inside of her. The air fills with the soft sounds of fingers exploring. Ellie hasn’t stopped holding her breath since those fingers first delve in. Her eyebrows furrow and then frown tightly as the arousal builds up.

“You like that?” Ellie nods immediately and lets out a moan, releasing her breath. “Do not move.” His cock disappears from her. His hands release her and Ellie can’t help but feel a small panic of abandonment. She shakes her head, I dont even know him!

A long time passes. Don and Val are no longer fucking for England, they lay stroking enough other in the sun. Ellie lets her stance drops and the relief in her shoulders is palpable. She goes to stand up and a hand roughly tugs her shorts to her knees.

“That is not what I said, young lady,” his voice shrinking her stance. “Ellie, I expect better.” He pushes his cock roughly into her pussy. Ellie’s body jolts upbut he puhes her back into position. “Ellie, you want it, just relax.” Ellie hears the melody of his speech. She knows him; her doctor.
 
Youll be cross with me this evening/morning 😅

So not to be too cliched but.. i have my adhd assessment tomorrow and i misplaced the letter with all the details. So i had to turn my storage inside out to find it. Thankfully, i did. Not helping much on the feeling sleepy and going to bed part tho.

No matter how long ive known not shit therapists and psychiatrists, its really hard to let go of the fear of them just stamping a bunch of misdiagnoses or not listening. The mischievous part of me wants to take a label maker with me 😈 but we need rapport for that joke.

Late to the party with this one, but ohhhh how I understand this.

I have autism. I have made multiple suicide attempts. There is very clear evidence that people with autism thinks about suicide, and act suicidally, in the absence of depression, yet every single fucking time the first and only response is "well, we can prescribe an antidepressant". I just don't engage with services any more, it's a pointless exercise for me.

I'm very clearly of a mind that mental health services exist for the mental health benefit of mental health practitioners. If the thing that makes them feel better is a thing that makes you feel better then, hey, it's all good. But you feeling better is not a prerequisite and you feeling worse as a result of their actions is not a barrier. I don't know how many times I've heard the phrase "well, I'd feel awful if...blah...so we just have to do this thing that makes matters worse for you (the patient - or in the modern nomenclature..."service user").

It's like, my job in this process isn't to make you feel all warm and fluffy. Your job is to make me feel subjectively better, and if you can't do that the very least you can achieve is to no make things worse.
 
So, as you know, ive been thinking about writing more erotica. But, i was feeling like i wasnt good enough to do it. Facebook, of all places, came to my rescue with a meme page.

I believe i could write better than this. 😂
You absolutely can. That's... bad lol
 
So, as you know, ive been thinking about writing more erotica. But, i was feeling like i wasnt good enough to do it. Facebook, of all places, came to my rescue with a meme page.

I believe i could write better than this. 😂
You're trotting and posting your work that is amazing! Most people who want to don't get to where you are I say keep posting.
 
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