Write an orgasm. Include word count and style.

[Tio_Narratore]

I heard echoes of e. e. cummings. Nicely done

Yes, thank you; I hadn't really noticed the 'cummings' in my rhyme. e. e. and James - both my favorites.

 

[Tio_Narratore]

Speaking of orgasms, by the way, do you think the residents of Come By Chance are a bit jealous of their fellow Newfoundlanders in the town of Dildo?

 

[WCSGarland]

I'm not sure what style I would call this, but it is an 87 word snippet from a story of mine...

Dale kissed me on the mouth while I was panting away and getting close to my orgasm. All of a sudden my mind flooded with the memory of when Jessa had drilled into me using her tentacle dildo as a strap-on and it took me from nice safe loving orgasm straight to hang on for dear life I want to climax to death orgasm. I screamed my climax down his throat and bucked and shook under him like a brood mare being mounted by a prize stallion.

 

[AG31]

My pelvis is a bowl of warm syrup, filled to overflowing.

Novel and effective!

 

[OliviaD]

Is 193 words in second-person okay?

"Everything was such a white-hot blur that you did not feel the orgasm build. Instead, it rocketed up from somewhere deep to burst from you all at once. Your body momentarily froze as you hit the peak, and then convulsed explosively as your pussy squirted around him. Your vision blurred at the edges, and you knew you were stutter-screaming with delight even as your body erupted.

Somewhere in the middle of your full-body climax he came as well, adding his own bellow of ecstasy; you were in completely uncontrollable spasms, and he locked his arms around your shaking body to keep his length buried inside you as the two of you crested the wave together. You rocked and rolled together for a gloriously long few more seconds, everything clenching and quivering, until you both sighed and relaxed.

You melted across him again, unable to feel your legs to stand. His cock softened and eventually slid free. His cum oozed from you, mingling with your own puddling juices. The scent of sex, messy and fully committed and deeply satisfying, was heady in the room. Your feet were wet from everything running down the chair. "

 

[MargotPayge]

Is 193 words in second-person okay?

Most definitely. That was sweet... and hot, like jalapeno jelly for your libido!

 

[WCSGarland]

230 word first person observational from a work in progress?

When I entered I saw Kat leaning back against the entry wall, ass perched on the edge of the credenza. Her hair was mussed, and her lip gloss was smeared. I had apparently missed that first kiss between them. Kat’s chest was heaving. Her charcoal gray pinstripe skirt was pushed up over her hip bones in front, panties and pantyhose clutched in Jessa’s fists around her thighs.

Jessa’s tongue was insistently probing and flicking at Kat’s mound. Kat’s fingers were laced at the back of Jessa’s scalp, entwined in her hair. The way Kat’s hips were starting to undulate and press her clit into Jessa’s greedy mouth it looked like the first crest was approaching fast. I closed the front door behind me as their moaning built in volume.

Kat’s engorged slit and clit insisted they share the ride of Jessa’s rigid slashing and sliding tongue. I watched my wife’s juices accumulate on Jessa’s chin and trickle down over her throat. With each upward thrust and pull of Jessa’s tongue Kat gasped, “Oh!” Like a metronome increasing rhythm, Jessa urged Kat onward and upward to reach for that plateau of pleasure. Kat’s legs quivered briefly and her back arched pressing her sex forward to impale itself on Jessa’s tongue whereby she exclaimed, “Oh, FUCK!” and convulsed and clasped Jessa’s head to her and whimpered, “Oh God, Oh God, Oh God!”

 

[WCSGarland]

First person POV, FMC masturbates in job interview. 552 words with a bit of build up from current WIP:

Zsa Zsa ran a finger along my damp slit. “Show me darling. Show me how fast you can orgasm.”

I wasn’t sure why the artist wanted to see that, but if it landed me this job I figured it would be worth it. My nipples were already rock hard, so in order to get that first spark all I had to do was roll one between my fore-finger and thumb and pull, kind of like pinching off a section of Twizzlers candy. While I was doing that I stretched my vulva open between the middle fingers on my other hand, slowly rubbed down and then up a couple of times, then three and four more until the moisture built up.

For me that was just easing up off the clutch and engaging first gear. Just like a car, I didn’t want to over rev my engine in first gear. To switch into second gear all I had to do was drag those same fingers back up all the way to my clit and clamp it pulling the little girl up and pushing it back down grinding that way a dozen strokes or so. And there it was, right where I was expecting it, that slow twitch of my thighs like I wanted to ride something. My left foot settled on the rung of the stool there on the pedestal.

I started feeling my groove and leaned into it. My eyelids slid slowly down. Now I was getting ready to switch into the next gear. I imagined my tat artist’s cock, rock hard. The tat looking like the threads of a screw getting ready to impale me, wide bulbous tip nudging my clit, pressing my button first, tap, tap, tap, just like my fingers are doing. The carpenter is getting ready to pound the screw in with a hammer. My cunt is starting to drip, my juices running down my leg as my thighs start to quiver.

I no longer see the studio I’m standing in, just that beautiful threaded cock. I’m going to mimic it with my fingers of course since that lovely piece of meat is hanging somewhere else, but I’m wet enough I can slam them home as I hunker down and I start riding my hand. I go slow but steady at first until the juices build up in the palm of my hand and it starts making squishing, squelching noises against my clit. I steady myself against the stool with my other hand and my hips are rocking now.

I lose myself in the cacophony of loud panting and wet rapid-fire slapping of my palm against my mound as I’m rapidly fucking my cunt with my hand. And finally, there it goes, that electric jolt from the tip of my clit to the root on down around my fingers and through my asshole. “Gah!” My hips locked, ass clenched, bunghole puckered. I’m in overdrive now and all that’s left is rooting around and grinding and digging and mashing and jabbing at my g-spot until I rocket past the checkered flag in a flash of light and take my victory lap; my butt splashing against the floor.

I can see Zsa Zsa Azzanti again grinning and clapping at my performance, “Marvelous darling! I’ve got just the exhibit for you!”

Girls can be gear heads too, eh? Was that over the top?

 

[LargoKitt]

137 words: dialog/dramatic

"Oh no...oh no...oh no"

"It's okay...it's okay. Come on... you can...oh shit that's so...can I?"

"Like...?"

"Yuh, only...oh yes...now but can you...just keep..."

"Like..."

"Yuh...yuh...yuh...don't stop...yuh...yuh..."

"Faster...more?"

"Please..."

"Deep?"

"Yuh deep...OH! So deep..."

"I have to..."

"I think...I think...yes...I think...oh no, oh no...I'm losing..."

"Can I...?"

"Yes...yes...oh lord....here it is...you..."

"I'm with you...I'm so with you...ready...?"

"So ready...so...so...give me...give me...more..."

"More...?"

"More."

"Okay...here...here...here...here, oh shit ...here...here...oh jeeeeeeeeeeez!"

"Oh darling...oh darling...oh darling...oh...oh...oh...ohhhhhhhhhh!
......

"That was...."

"It was... Got a...?"

"On the night stand."

"Can I have a puff when you...? Thanks. God, I'm hungry."

 

[LargoKitt]

Yes, thank you; I hadn't really noticed the 'cummings' in my rhyme. e. e. and James - both my favorites.

But, please, not Alan.