exercise - 100 word description

[Sean Renaud]

Personally you used way too many mythical creatures and then the rest of your choices don't really lean one way or another.

I would also personally avoid sprite and spirit so close together.

 

[sadangel]

Mother, friend, confidant. Not my mother, but my friend, my confidant and teacher. Her quiet and accepting demeanor steadied me through some of the hardest times of my life. Her soft eyes always seemed to know what I was thinking and her gentle arms could keep me from falling into the pit of blackness when life was too hard. Her stern words brought me back from the brink more than once, but it was the unconditional love that I have always remembered most. She never judged me, but always expected the best from me. She still does. I miss her.

 

[unregistered]

 

[spicy_obsession]

Our ever so popular class president, Miss Rachel Hawkins, was a hard one to miss. It could have been the tightly wound curls of her dark hair that always brought to mind those secretive women from old noir films. Maybe it was the way her clean, polished hands slowly smoothed her skirt as she slid into her seat every morning. Even the sound of her voice—rich, throaty, and slightly presumptuous—could do people in. For me, though, the magic will forever lay in her smile: a coquettish quirk of the lips that would never reveal her even, white teeth.

 

[togitc]

She stood in the doorway looking like something out of a black and white detective movie. She wore blue jeans and a green sweater but I saw her in a slinky white dress holding a long cigarette with her hair partially covering her right eye. She would take a slow drag and those emerald orbs would look deep into my eyes, even in black and white they would be emerald. When she walked her hips subtly popped from side to side causing drums in my head to pick up her steps as the tempo. With each step closer the drums got louder. Of all the gin joints in the world, I thought as she recognized me.

 

[Feral_Intelligence]

She stood in the doorway looking like something out of a black and white detective movie. She wore blue jeans and a green sweater but I saw her in a slinky white dress holding a long cigarette with her hair partially covering her right eye. She would take a slow drag and those emerald orbs would look deep into my eyes, even in black and white they would be emerald. When she walked her hips subtly popped from side to side causing drums in my head to pick up her steps as the tempo. With each step closer the drums got louder. Of all the gin joints in the world, I thought as she recognized me.

A very interesting piece. You managed to discriptions at once. It not just conveyed the appearance of the woman you are writing about, but the thoughts of the person viewing her.

 

[togitc]

A very interesting piece. You managed to discriptions at once. It not just conveyed the appearance of the woman you are writing about, but the thoughts of the person viewing her.

Thank you, I rather like it myself.

 

[Feral_Intelligence]

His dirty blonde hair was ruffled in the breeze as his wizened hazel eyes surveyed the horizon. The young adventure stood on the hilltop gazing at the path ahead. His skin was tan and weathered from exposure elements. His simple cloths were worn and dirty, but fit well on his frame. Over a white jerkin he wore a hunter’s vest and leather bracers adorned his forearms. Pouches hung from his belt and the straps that crisscrossed his body. The sword and shield on his back, the tools of his trade, clanged as he took a step down his new path.

 

[CodeDog]

He rose from the mud, the remnants of the pike that killed him still protruding from the gaping hole in his chest.
His coat hung loosely; his once shiny buttons dull and splattered. He staggered, the shaft protruding from his back dragging the ground.
He seemed confused, more sad than angry. He opened his mouth as if to say “why?” but no sound came forth.
There was no breath in the ruin his lungs had become. A hand raised, gnarled and ghastly to point at his tormentor.
“Go” said the other and he turned unable to resist. The pole slid from his back as he walked, a dull splash, unnoticed and uncaring to fall on his once proud standard as it lay on the ground.
Although he had fallen, his battle was not done.

 

[spicy_obsession]

You would not think that Thomas was a beauty at first glance. She never hiked her skirt up or unbuttoned her blouse too low. She always pinned her wild, stubborn hair and pursed her lips so that no one could see the red, handsome pout she really had. In fact, I think she would have faded into obscurity were it not for the first day of school, when she introduced herself to the class in a smoky voice that hung and lingered in the air like a heady, intoxicating aroma. You would never forget her if she said your name.

 

[RisiaSkye]

Don Wayne seemed to think that having a name that rhymed with that of a famous dead guy conferred on him some kind of specialness, that it would afford him some borrowed masculine glamour. His sentences brimmed with adjectives and pretension; he attended poetry readings to pick up middle aged women he called, no matter the prodding, girls. For every inch his hairline receded, his ponytail grew two inches longer. When we met, he unleashed a cloud of merlot fumes to say, "I'm so glad you're here. These people are all such assholes."

Sometimes, he was right.

 

[lesbiaphrodite]

Her eyes were like dark amber and when I looked at them, I saw her desires. Her face was perfectly shaped and displayed beautiful pale white skin, perfect pink lips, high cheek bones and a cleft chin. The hair was dark and fell just beneath the shoulders, fancifully curling around her neck. What was most jarring, however, was her exquisite, tall form with perfectly rounded hips and a jutting ass that spoke to me and put fire in my veins. When I came near her, I could smell her soft perfume, which faintly reminded me of the sea.

 

[oggbashan]

A fifty-word attempt...

Her blonde ponytail, swishing from side to side, bobbing up and down, exaggerated her head’s constant movement, Her hands signalled her staccato sentences. Her eyes flickered to his face to check that she still had his attention. His expression of courteous disinterest produced more frantic gesturing, her ponytail lashing furiously.

Og

 

[Feral_Intelligence]

A good start especialy for 50 words. Still, it does not give a lot of description beyond her hair. The first time I read it I thought it was describing her giving a blowjob, but after the second time I am not so sure on that.

 

[spicy_obsession]

I had never really taken notice of Noah before. I only knew him by name, and that was because the teacher took roll at the beginning of every homeroom. Once I became aware of him, I begun to watch him closely. His sandy hair was always neat and tidy, not a strand out of place. He liked his desk cleared of all extraneous material other than a reliable pencil and a spiral notebook. During class, I would often catch him daydreaming or simply staring off into space, chin propped up on his hands. And oh, what beautiful hands they were.

 

[BadPup]

His body filled the doorframe when he walked into the room. His cheap black jacket fit for shit, but without a good tailor clothes were never going to fit right on a torso shaped like a beer keg. The broken nose and the scars made him look like run of the mill muscle, but it was his sleepy brown eyes that scared me. The flash of intelligence I saw in them as he sized me up, and the way it disappeared without a trace behind that blank mask he chose to show the world after he had made his decision.

 

[spicy_obsession]

On my first day of high school, I met a girl who had the most perfectly coiffed hair that I had ever come across. It was a brilliant shade of red, and she wore an olive green sweater with a brown pencil skirt, both of which complimented her fair, freckled complexion. As she introduced herself to me, my clammy, ink-smeared hand shook her dry, manicured one while she flashed a smile that I swear came straight from a toothpaste ad. Although I never had another conversation with her after that initial encounter, I will always remember her name: Anna Krueger.

 

[TruckieDyke]

Go easy on me guys...

First attempt at something like this, take it easy would you?

Her long blonde hair fell across my nipples as we lay toe-to-toe. Sweat glistened, highlighting the muscles of her post orgasmic shoulders. As I watched, a crystal clear tear ran from the corner of one of her sapphire blue eyes, down her freckled cheek and fell to puddle in the hollow of her collarbone. I’ve always had a thing for younger women, but Astrid was closer to me in years than I cared to admit. I guess it was her toned and athletic body, kept trim by working the horses and tending the stables, that turned me on so much.

 

[Dianthus]

exactly 100 words

She had her full bottom lip firmly between her teeth and was scribbling in the blue book as fast as she could. Her sweaty palms left the pages damp and the pen slipped in her hand. Her left hand twisted in her long, dark hair as she shifted her pert blue-jeaned bottom back and forth on the hard plastic chair. She glanced up at the clock, her wide blue eyes anxious as she calculated the number of minutes remaining. “Not enough”, she thought, heaving a sigh that pushed her breasts forward in the already-tight t-shirt. What a treat for teacher!

 

[eroticaTom]

Eliot is a fat man. Were it not for the large, jutting, pugnacious gut that precedes him as he struts down the halls, he would be a stocky fellow, a tough customer, a boxer. But that gut gets all the attention--not the broad shoulders, the muscled forearms, the athlete's legs. Thick neck, broad bottom, puffy cheeks, perspiration on the forehead—all say "fat" because the gut proves it.

But his eyes dart, his wit is nimble, his tongue quick. His heart is light. It wars with his belly, the one lifting him up and the other dragging him down.

 

[Acal]

She was gobsmacked, she physically couldn’t breathe as she saw her husband standing on the podium with just a narrow loincloth on his hips. The studio lights flickering over his oiled skin making it appear burnished as the oil enhanced his tan with the students brushes stroking their canvas. His muscles sharply defined by the light and glistening oil. He looked so much like a god, as she drew in a shaky breath she saw him tense as he registered her presence grasping the spear he was holding more tightly as he felt her scorching eyes burning over his body.

(100 words! woot!)

 

[DevilOrAngel]

thought I'd try my hand at this

Being a tall bear of a man, Master towers over my slightly pudgy petite frame. I love to run my fingers thru his soft wavy dark brown hair while looking up into his crystal blue eyes telling him I love you every morning. What I love best is hearing my future name on his lips and his passion filled voice as we make love in our bed. Large hands deal out pain/pleasure equally measure. Hands firm in punishment but gentle wiping away my tears. Together we stand against the world. Smiling in his protective embrace, I’ve found my heaven.

 

[Feral_Intelligence]

Here are three descriptions of the same woman, my love. Each is 100 words exact. I am very interested in seeing how people react to each of them. Please let me know if you picture the same woman in each of them or someone different.

My English rose is beautiful as she kneels down before me with her hands behind her back. She is completely naked save for the black dog collar around her slim neck. Her back is straight in attention as she waits for my orders. Her head is turned down in perfect subservience. I slide my fingers through her find blond hair. She keeps it in a short cut that I adore. Her bangs fall across her face partially obscuring her right eye. The only problem with her looking down is that I cannot see her entrapping light blue, almost grey, eyes.

She looks beautiful against the backdrop of the mountains even on this overcast day. Her blue and white plaid coat keeps off the mild chill. The wind lightly whips around her, stirring her short blond hair. Her hair sticks out at the sides in wild look of well planned chaos. Her bangs hang down partially hiding one eye. Her eyes have taken on a more grayish tint in the cloud filtered light instead of their usual light blue. She grants one of her rare smiles that shows off white teeth. Her round face is at its best when she smiles.

She stands in attention with her hands cuffed behind her back. Her jaw is clenched in concentration and her strong chin held forward in determination. Her blond hair is pinned to the side of her head by the black blindfold wrapped across her eyes. White rope has been tied in a chest harness that binds up her breasts. Her full breasts hang low, but the harness holds them up. Her areolas do not stand out, but her nipples are red from wearing cloths pins. Blue panties hide her sex from view. Her round ass is red from a firm spanking.

 

[Keroin]

Tender and twisted. A Trojan horse of a man.

“Pass the sugar” or “get on your knees” delivered in tone of pure cream. He’d never hurt you, unless you wanted him to. But you would, want him to.

Ghost eyes promise to weep, someday, as they soothe your welts. Around his soft hands, leather belt bites. Smile is an almost. No need for a Spartan body, it’s all in the wrist. You can hear his brain calculating distance and velocity, a half breath before the strike.

Ordinary. Average – that’s what the newspapers would say. Anything worth seeing is hiding inside.

 

[BangoSkank]

Everything about her screamed superiority. Her makeup was applied with a perfection that set herself apart from the herd. She could never be seen to be the mere equal of the next in line. She didn’t walk; she strutted, like she was on a catwalk, her nose ever so slightly in the air as all eyes were drawn to her. For her and for me too, no-one else mattered, like we were Adam and Eve and all the others were merely creatures created by God for our benefit in our Garden of Eden.