Just one Line.

It had nothing to do with how good you were, or how evil you were. Life was perfectly fair. She looked at the whole world, and decided that it needed to take a royally hard fucking. Because life was a warmthless cunt.
 
A young couple talking dirty over dinner at the country club, from my WIP (tentatively, A Little Bit Salty, A Little Bit Dirty):

Sam set his menu aside like he had it memorized. "I want the guys in here to imagine what it's like to hold your naked body while you come."

Ivy glanced at the tables to both sides and crossed her legs. "I want their wives to imagine what it's like to have a man who cares about that."
 
I’m about 80% of the way through what I thought would be my next story. Then, last night, another one started tumbling out from nowhere, and I’m already nearly 3k words in.

“ The Alice I fell in love with was half-drunk, hair a bit mussed, beautiful face framed in tendrils of cigarette smoke, while the fading light of the day cast across her troubled features as we sat on her balcony.”
 
His lips came together and air filtered up from his lungs as he prepared to tell her no. Then he met her hopeful gaze and the word dissolved into another sigh.
 
From my WIP, One Whore's Town. Still needs some action punch in there as that last sentence launches to really get across how I see it in my head, but I just haven't figured out the wording yet.

=============

Betty’s eyebrows shot up and she asked, “Your wife wants to meet a whore?”

“No. Though she knows of your profession, she wishes to meet the fascinating woman of whom I have written. Fear not to offend her, for she is of common birth. Though she glides through a gala with grace that takes my breath away, she can curse with a venom that would make my men go pale.”
 
“That,” he panted, “was the Sex Pistols of blow jobs - dirty and quick.”

“Would that make a long, sensual blow job with all the bells and whistles Dream Theater?”
 
The poster of the colorful butterfly featured the word Dream beneath it, and there was an air of sadness surrounding something so bright and pretty in the otherwise dingy apartment, but what were dreams, but bright spots of hope in an otherwise stark reality?
 
If her father had suspected the extent of our intimacies, I would have died with a knife in my back. She told me, and I believed her, that I was her first.
 
Not from a story, just from my mind. And I need to exorcise it.

"Her buccal beef slab was slathered with his boy sauce."
I'm trying to get to your thought here. By "buccal" do you mean her facial cheeks, and this guy gave her a "facial?" Why "beef slab," is she very overweight? Or maybe it's just wording and there is no image to go along with it?
 
I'm trying to get to your thought here. By "buccal" do you mean her facial cheeks, and this guy gave her a "facial?" Why "beef slab," is she very overweight? Or maybe it's just wording and there is no image to go along with it?
I thought he was referring to her pussy? IN which case I'd see it as a gross insult, you know all those jokes about a pussy looking like roast beef after awhile?

Meh, what do I know? LOL.
 
"You've been watching me since then?" Keira arched her eyebrows. "Rule of thumb is five minutes is looking, fifteen is interested, but an hour is stalking"
 
I thought he was referring to her pussy? IN which case I'd see it as a gross insult, you know all those jokes about a pussy looking like roast beef after awhile?

Meh, what do I know? LOL.
That would make more sense - I've heard the roast beef comparison before. Buccal refers to the mouth, but the vaginal is sometimes compared to a mouth - e.g., as in the phrase "vagina dentata." I guess only Bubo knows exactly what he meant.
 
From the world's best kiss, to waking up in an alien hospital with people asking her what the fuck a liver was, left a very poor impression and ruined any hope of a holiday fling.
 
"It was a pleasure having you in class," Felicia smiled while thinking it would be even more of a pleasure to have him outside of class.
 
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