Bringing back "Erotic Toolbox Challenge"

[Angellica1612]

And thank you for that story, Angel ; as Ben noted, it was indeed hot . Luckily, I'm not lecturing in palaeontology this semester; I'd find it impossible not to think of your tale and end up looking like a very unusual monoceratops.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

New words: Amatory, Bezoar, slumgullion, sentience, quincunx, ort

As he placed the final ort from the chalice on his extended tongue, the Monsignor found his spiritual ecstacy transforming into an overwhelming amatory desire for a far more corporeal sentience. By the time he reached the presbytery, the extent of his arousal was clearly apparent, even under his loose-fitting cassock, and did not escape the notice of Miss Salomie, the new housekeeper.

She had her eye on the Monsignor from the beginning, from long before she was hired, from a time when she was merely a parishoner. Then, as now, she would check the schedule of masses to ensure that she only attended those which he celebrated, and at communion, would imagine that it was something more personal, some part of himself, that he was placing on her adoring tongue. And now, through some form of divine providence, here was her opportunity to enjoy that which had driven her to seek this lowly post in the church hierarchy.

The lustful housekeeper knew her pastor would be hungry when he returned from services, but she hadn't imagined him showing this kind of hunger. She undid the top four buttons on her starched white blouse, and added some wine and special herbs to the stew she was bringing him.

"Here's something for your bodily needs, Father," she said in her sweetest and most seductive voice, gazing at him, her eyes burning with desire. She leaned forward to fill his bowl, offering him an enticing glimpse of her ample breasts pendulant within her blouse.

The prelate saw her for the temptress she was, and feared that the slumgullion she proferred him was tainted with some witch's love potion. He slyly withdrew a bezoar, given him by his predecessor, and slipped it unobserved into his bowl, hoping to dispell the power of her brew.

It was to no avail, however, as his arousal, intensified by the dish, drove him to tear the stiff broadcloth from the delighted housekeeper. Down, he forced her, down onto the hearthrug, spread-eagling her so her hands and feet formed the corners of a mystical, concupiscent figure, and he thrust his swollen organ deep into her, deep into the fifth and central point of Miss Salomie's quincunx.


Next up: thanatos, serendipity, polymath, stalagmite, antediluvian, inquisitorial, harbinger, cascading.

 

[Angellica1612]

As he placed the final ort from the chalice on his extended tongue, the Monsignor found his spiritual ecstacy transforming into an overwhelming amatory desire for a far more corporeal sentience. By the time he reached the presbytery, the extent of his arousal was clearly apparent, even under his loose-fitting cassock, and did not escape the notice of Miss Salomie, the new housekeeper.

She had her eye on the Monsignor from the beginning, from long before she was hired, from a time when she was merely a parishoner. Then, as now, she would check the schedule of masses to ensure that she only attended those which he celebrated, and at communion, would imagine that it was something more personal, some part of himself, that he was placing on her adoring tongue. And now, through some form of divine providence, here was her opportunity to enjoy that which had driven her to seek this lowly post in the church hierarchy.

The lustful housekeeper knew her pastor would be hungry when he returned from services, but she hadn't imagined him showing this kind of hunger. She undid the top four buttons on her starched white blouse, and added some wine and special herbs to the stew she was bringing him.

"Here's something for your bodily needs, Father," she said in her sweetest and most seductive voice, gazing at him, her eyes burning with desire. She leaned forward to fill his bowl, offering him an enticing glimpse of her ample breasts pendulant within her blouse.

The prelate saw her for the temptress she was, and feared that the slumgullion she proferred him was tainted with some witch's love potion. He slyly withdrew a bezoar, given him by his predecessor, and slipped it unobserved into his bowl, hoping to dispell the power of her brew.

It was to no avail, however, as his arousal, intensified by the dish, drove him to tear the stiff broadcloth from the delighted housekeeper. Down, he forced her, down onto the hearthrug, spread-eagling her so her hands and feet formed the corners of a mystical, concupiscent figure, and he thrust his swollen organ deep into her, deep into the fifth and central point of Miss Salomie's quincunx.


Next up: thanatos, serendipity, polymath, stalagmite, antediluvian, inquisitorial, harbinger, cascading.

Very, very naughty! I'm off for the dictionary again (at least this time I don't have to look up all of them!)

 

[beatrice_dreams]

New words: Intaglio, millenarian, occiput, lacustrian, existential, davenport, prehensile, masoleum.

Uh. Okay, if it's possible to know too many words...it's you guys.

 

[MichaelinChina]

impressed

Uh. Okay, if it's possible to know too many words...it's you guys.

I second that! I thought I had an extensive vocab. You guys put me in the shade.
I am impressed.
I liked the very short story especially after the much longer one.
And the earlier one about the group of words being the basis of the perfect C/W song.

As an exercise, it ought to stimulate one's creativity, even if I am sure you might never ever use those words again.

And remind me please..what's a subjunctive?

I'll be back.

Michael

 

[Tio_Narratore]

I second that! I thought I had an extensive vocab. You guys put me in the shade.
I am impressed.
I liked the very short story especially after the much longer one.
And the earlier one about the group of words being the basis of the perfect C/W song.

As an exercise, it ought to stimulate one's creativity, even if I am sure you might never ever use those words again.

And remind me please..what's a subjunctive?

I'll be back.

Michael

The subjunctive is a verb mood expressing conditional or unrealized objects. Wishes and suggestions often call for this mood, and, in English, it often is not apparent in the form of the verb.

Eg.

I wish I were her lover. or If I were you, I'd ask her to undress and get into bed immediately.

Most North American English speakers, however, use "I was" rather than the subjunctive form.

 

[MichaelinChina]

Thank you.

I understand the way it's used, just didn't associate the term with the practice.

So, you are saying that Nth American English speakers are getting it wrong?

I think in everyday oral English 'was' gets preference. And I can think of umpteen other grammatically incorrect examples such as split infinitives that are spoken. They become problematic when they are used in writing. Not that it has any relevance (or does it?) I'm an Australian btw.
While not wishing to disparage the correct usage of grammar, ultimately, which is more important: communication or grammar?

 

[Tio_Narratore]

I didn't say they were "getting it wrong;" I simply noted that they used a different mood for the same statement. Grammar isn't prescriptive; it's descriptive. What the speakers of a language use defines the language, and that is constantly changing. The most important thing in language, written or spoken, is communication, but we do also find that in all languages, there is appreciation for that which is well-said.

My reference to the subjunctive to Ben, by the way, was an allusion to a little grammatical discussion that was going on in another thread at the time, and not a judgement.

 

[smart_and_sexytxgirl]

Next up: thanatos, serendipity, polymath, stalagmite, antediluvian, inquisitorial, harbinger, cascading


Thanatos stood in the cave, marveling at the serendipity of discovering his brother's plan in advance. The harbinger from his dreams was correct. She was here. He wondered why such a great polymath would go to such a strange place for relaxation. He passed several stalagmites and stalactites as he searched for her.

After rounding a bend in the cave, Thanatos came face to face with his object. She was even more beautiful in person. Grace looked up at Thanatos, not understanding why he was invading her sanctuary. “What are you doing here??” She thundered. Her inquisitorial voice boomed through the chamber.

Thanatos was held immobile by the sound of her voice. After a few seconds, the ability to speak returned to him. “I have come to find you. You alone are life. I want you to leave this antediluvian plane, and join me on a higher one.” Thanatos gulped. Her dress was cascading down her figure, like a liquid waterfall, making him want to touch her. “You are my other half. Please come with me.” Thanatos couldn't help begging her. He had searched lifetimes for his mate. The perfect opposite of him in every way. Where he was death, she was life.

Grace stood. She knew who Thanatos was as soon as he entered the cave. She too had longed for him. She had looked for him, but had never found him. “I will go with you.” She whispered. In an instant, they both disappeared, never to be seen on this plane again.

Next up: apple, torrent, superfluous, extravagant, pathology, horrid

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Next up: apple, torrent, superfluous, extravagant, pathology, horrid

The dwarves had no sooner left, whistling off to work in the jewel mine, when Snow White heard a gentle rapping on the front door. She opened it to find a pitiful, horrid looking woman standing there.

"Buy an apple from me, my dear," she cackled, more as demand than request. "You can have it for only a ten-carat emerald."

"It would be superflous to our needs," the innocent virgin replied sweetly, "our larder is already well-stocked." She felt as well that the price asked was a bit extravagant, but didn't mention it for fear the hag would take it as an invitation to barter.

"But I so dearly need the jewel," the woman whined, "and besides, it's a magic fruit."

Magic or not, Snow White felt sorry for the old lady, and decided to offer her the kindness. "We have jewels enough from the dwarves' work to give a needy beggar a single emerald," she thought to herself.

The woman left, and the girl studied the fruit. It was remarkably red, she noted, and looked more delicious than a red delicious. She took a bite and her eyes lit up at the sweetness. Another bite, and another, and Snow White's whole body warmed, giving her pale skin a golden glow.

As she finished the last bite, a torrent of carnal desire swept over her, inflaming her breasts and flooding into the seat of her womanhood, where her maidenhead held against it as a dam.

The desire continued to grow, and she tore off her clothes as she threw herself wantonly across the little beds. She lay there, overcome with the depraved pathology of lust, eagerly anticipating the return of all seven dwarves.

Next up: flotsam, ichneumon, alabaster, ecclesiastic, phenomenological, cantilever

 

[kuellar]

flotsam, ichneumon, alabaster, ecclesiastic, phenomenological, cantilever

===

The body lay by the side of the road, discarded like so much flotsam, unmoving. Islands of alabaster skin shone through a thick layer of mud and dirt. She was beautiful, broken; and here he was, an itinerant ecclesiastic, drawn to broken things. Her body was twisted, bent over in a cantilever, like a figure skater. He licked his lips, his pulse quickening.

Bending over her crooked form, he noticed her eyes were open. Blue like the sky, pale and unblinking, fixed on the chest of his robe; the braided lizard, symbol of his Order, the Phenomenological Clerics. Her gaze blinked up at his with an open acceptance that set his heart racing. She knew, he thought. She knew... and approved. Eagerly he reached for her -

She struck without warning. Her hand flashed across his throat, and he was in the mud, gasping. "Ichneumon," he whispered. The dragonslayers. Rising up beside him, she stood like a pale tower, shielding him from the sun while he bled. There she left him, by the side of the road, broken.

===

I confess I had no idea what an ichneumon was. I looked it up and it seemed cool, so I based the whole scene around that

Next: eldritch, horseshoe, highway, maudlin, antique, rainforest

 

[Tio_Narratore]

eldritch, horseshoe, highway, maudlin, antique, rainforest

The light of the nearly-full moon shone intermittently through the canopy of the rainforest, lending the night an other-worldly quality as I made my way to the river. It seemed an endless hike, but then, a clearing, and there was the aqueous highway I had sought to take me from this place.

A boat was on the bank, a dugout, and I took it, leaving an offering behind for whose ever it was. The way was clear, and well-lit now, for the river was wide and the moon shone fully on its silvery surface. Still, the shadows on the banks constantly drew my attention as I feared discovery before I was safe.

The moon was at its zenith as I turned a bend and found myself facing a roiling maelstrom of crossed currents. I back-paddeld as I scanned the river for a course around the danger. From the center of the swirling waters, an eldritch figure slowly emerged. A towering woman it was, all ghostly of flesh and flaming red of hair. She brandished a blowgun at the ready, and I feared the prick of her poison-tipped darts.

She spoke, and at first it was unintelligible to my ears, but as she continued, I realized it was not far from the Jivaro tongue - I was able to understand her. It was a maudlin tale she told, a tale of betrayal and murder, of a love lost to a lascivious missionary and his lustful shamanic accomplice. They had deprived her of the man she wanted and demanded she take the two of them in his place. To escape their depravity, she dove into the river and became a nereid. Her oppressors were long dead now, but here she remained, trapped in this form until some man could break the spell which bound her. She'd risen up like this for many, but all were afraid of her and her ethereal body, and so each had fallen to her deadly darts.

I accepted the challenge; she was quite appealing despite her ghostly form and melodramatic tale, and I thought I might just be able to save both of us. As I wrapped my arms around her, though, I saw them start turning into mist; it seemed I would be more likely to become her phantom mate than she my fleshed lover.

I withdrew immediately, and she began to raise her blowgun to her lips. Quickly I reached into my backpack for my talisman, my 'medicine,' my good luck charm, if you insist. I held the antique horseshoe up before her, and she hesitated. The ancient iron began its work, and I embraced her again, holding it against her solidifying body. She joined me in the dugout, and I was thankful for being a Canadian, for a Canadian knows how to make love in a canoe.

Next: fewmets, blunderbus, pirogue, alpaca, multifarious, transhumance

 

[MartinFaust]

Short time lurker, first time caller, but I'd like to play:

Alpaca, blunderbuss, transhumance, multifarious, pirogue, fewmets

"Miss Childs, there is work to be done. This damndable Alpaca continues to expectorate upon my clothes, yet you would have me drop my trousers for a quick go?" His voice was terse, but the hands that caressed the red locks of the woman who knelt before him were more encouraging.

"I figured the great hunter of Bristol could use some polish on his... blunderbuss." She smiled as her hand continued it's challenging journey into the labyrinth of his hunting garb, it's multifarious nature complicating things; Zippers needed to be pulled, buttons to be undone, and a belt or two unfastened.

"You do know, my good woman, that... Mmm." Her expert lips had found the barrel of him and were coaxing him to life. One hand caressed up and down the coarse fabric of his heavy linen trousers, while the other teased more thickness from his shaft. Her mouth came off the musky tasting globe for a moment.

"You were saying." She looked up at him, innocence in her eyes, and a bit of drool on her chin. One corner of her mouth turned up in a teasing smile.

"I was saying that I believe the transhumance of the locals matches that of my quarry." Her mouth returned to him and buried her nose into the scratchy confines of his zipper in one movement. His swollen head finding it's way down her throat. Serpentine, her tongue teased the bottom of him. Somehow he found the composure to continue. " Also, you are exquisite at what you do."

She let loose with a small chuckle, the movement of her mouth on him caused him to thrust involuntarily ever so slightly. His hands never stopped their caresses of her hair.

Back and forth her mouth traveled on him, her hand mimicking the same milking motion. Reaching into him, as if to pull something from him. He moaned at her continued ministrations.

A string of drool trailed her mouth as she pulled back from him to say, "That wasn't very gentlemanly," before returning to her work.

"Little is left that is, my love. I stand on a muddy river bank waiting for a hunting guide from up river in his pirogue whilst a fellatrix plies her trade upon my person."

She stopped for a second, tasting, and then seeing a drop of nectar come from the tip of him. "You forgot the part where we spent the day in search of the fewments of an animal that may not exist." Her tongue darted out and caught the growing drop. "However, I think I hear a motor, and as much as I would have you plough me here in the open, I must work to maintain your gentlemanly illusion in front of the help."

"They do not make too many women like you." She looked up at him, and their eyes met. Her eyes pleaded, 'May I?' He just smiled and tilted his head back.

With lips on fire, she returned to his shaft. She worked him furiously, one hand stroking him, the other pulling his ass toward her hungry mouth. She felt him engorge and heard his breathing quicken, then stop altogether. She buried him in her throat, and pulse after pulse erupted from him. She swallowed hungrily, only releasing him when she finally needed a breath.

"You ma'am are no lady, but you are all I could ever dream of."


[for the next list of words, lets try: lascivious, dilatation, perineum, bombastic, timid, diffident, blue, Arizona]

MF

 

[Tio_Narratore]

lascivious, dilatation, perineum, bombastic, timid, diffident, blue, Arizona

The sky was clear and bright blue that day in the Arizona desert. It was a chance meeting, but he thought fate had sent him to her, and he proudly told this diffident beauty of his accomplishments, his prowess, of how lucky she would be to open her legs to him. He paused long enough to discern the dilatation of her pupils, and thought it an expression of interest rather than the boredom with his bombastic discourse that it really was.
Convinced he had won her, he groped at her breast. No longer timid, she abruptly terminated his lascivious thoughts and deeds with a sharp, well-placed kick to his perineum.

gravid, perihelion, ontogenesis, areolae, dermatoglyph, abbatoir, spongy, autonomic