Writing Exercise: History Is Written

[StillStunned]

Bringing this one back from the morbid dead...


"Please try and remain still, Madonna."

Lisa fought back a sigh. The painter had been at it for hours, and she was developing a stiff back. "My apologies. I'm not used to posing, I suppose. I'd thought you'd be finished by now."

The painter seemed as fresh as when they began. He’d tossed his gown over a chair before starting to work, and was dressed now only in a tight hose that clung to his legs. Although older than she was by three decades, he had a body that many a man half his age would envy. He seemed ablaze with an inner light, moving as gracefully as a dancer.

"Many of my models tell me that it helps to think of something else." He dabbed at the canvas again, then stepped back before adding another touch. "Perhaps a cherished memory, or a favourite poem.”

Lisa frowned, then hastily smoothed her face at the painter’s tut. She’d already gone through a dozen poems in her mind, and they hadn’t helped. A cherished memory, though?

None came to mind, but while she thought her eyes fell again on the painter’s legs. Long and muscled, they filled out his hose in a way that reminded her of her husband when they first married.

Francesco had been young then, and virile. Now he rarely visited her bedchamber, and Lisa missed his attentions. The feel of his hands on her, stroking her, awakening the woman inside her and then teasing, teasing until she yearned for him to complete her, until she clawed at his body and pulled him down on top of her.

The feeling when he entered her was as close to ecstasy as she could imagine. The weight of his body, the heat of it, his breath in her ear and on her neck, while she wrapped her legs around him and held him close, and they rode together, harder, faster, harder, until…

“Madonna?” It was the painter, the man Da Vinci, raising his voice to catch her attention. “Madonna? I believe that we’re done for today.”

 

[MillieDynamite]

I was beat, incomplete
I've been had, I was sad and blue
But you made me feel
Yeah, you made me feel
Shiny and new
Oh, like a virgin
Painted for the very first time
Like a virgin
When your brush moves across my drawn line

Madonna danced around Da Vinci as she sang to him.

Bringing this one back from the morbid dead...


"Please try and remain still, Madonna."

Lisa fought back a sigh. The painter had been at it for hours, and she was developing a stiff back. "My apologies. I'm not used to posing, I suppose. I'd thought you'd be finished by now."

The painter seemed as fresh as when they began. He’d tossed his gown over a chair before starting to work, and was dressed now only in a tight hose that clung to his legs. Although older than she was by three decades, he had a body that many a man half his age would envy. He seemed ablaze with an inner light, moving as gracefully as a dancer.

"Many of my models tell me that it helps to think of something else." He dabbed at the canvas again, then stepped back before adding another touch. "Perhaps a cherished memory, or a favourite poem.”

Lisa frowned, then hastily smoothed her face at the painter’s tut. She’d already gone through a dozen poems in her mind, and they hadn’t helped. A cherished memory, though?

None came to mind, but while she thought her eyes fell again on the painter’s legs. Long and muscled, they filled out his hose in a way that reminded her of her husband when they first married.

Francesco had been young then, and virile. Now he rarely visited her bedchamber, and Lisa missed his attentions. The feel of his hands on her, stroking her, awakening the woman inside her and then teasing, teasing until she yearned for him to complete her, until she clawed at his body and pulled him down on top of her.

The feeling when he entered her was as close to ecstasy as she could imagine. The weight of his body, the heat of it, his breath in her ear and on her neck, while she wrapped her legs around him and held him close, and they rode together, harder, faster, harder, until…

“Madonna?” It was the painter, the man Da Vinci, raising his voice to catch her attention. “Madonna? I believe that we’re done for today.”

 

[lovecraft68]

Jocasta squirmed and tried to concentrate on the scenery flashing by their fast-moving chariot, but it was no use. The vehicle was so crowded that, Queen though she was, she'd been forced to sit in the lap of Oedipus, and that had led her to a disquieting discovery. She could feel the younger man's tumescent shaft jabbing against her loins with every bounce and jostle of the rough road, and it was all she could do not to moan lustfully each time. Biting her lip, she turned her head just enough to get a glimpse of his face as she adjusted her peplos, removing one of the thin layers of cloth that was keeping their shared ride innocent. Bearing a small grin, Oedipus made a subtle adjustment of his own, abruptly filling Jocasta's aching emptiness with rigid destiny.

Sorry, I couldn't resist!
*Edited to make the joke originally intended, because Orpheus was a totally different dude. Whoops!

This post will now become the single most liked posts in AH history.

 

[vanmyers86]

OK, I'll play!

Pulling at the pink skirt and jacket to ensure she could get in and out of the car smoothly, she squirmed slightly as the cloth managed to find the only uncovered inch of her skin. Didn’t matter if you were rich or poor, she thought – wool itched no matter who you were.

Across from her, the car door opened and her husband slid onto the backseat next to her. Squinting into the Texas sun, he grinned at her and gave her knee a little squeeze.

“Ready?” he asked, casually, as if this was just another outing.

“As I’ll ever be,” she replied.

“Still feeling last night?”

Wriggling again, she pretended to pout, then relented as he looked uncertain.

They’d gone through a bad patch lately. The usual. Other women - lots of them. Booze and pills - lots of those, too. Lack of respect and care towards her. Missing the children’s milestones. Her own father hadn’t been much better, and her mother had warned her about the ways of men before her wedding night - but it still hurt.

Then again, it had made last night all the more special. The way he had come to her, apologized, and – she still couldn’t quite believe it – humbled himself before her. She had never seen him so vulnerable, so open about everything – his own childhood, his father, the job. He had asked if they might build something new together, something better than either of them had ever known. Tears streaming down her face, she had nodded, unable to speak.

Their lovemaking afterward had been breathtaking, a powerful union unlike anything else so far in their marriage. She smiled to herself, remembering, then leaned towards him.

Just then, the governor and his wife scooted into the seat in front of them, breaking the spell. The noise from the crowd invaded their private world, and both snapped back into their official roles.

As the car idled, his big hand closed on her gloved one, and she glanced at him. “Tonight,” he mouthed, and winked.

A sudden acceleration, and the limo made its way towards the Love Field exit.

 

[Belegon]

I'm working on a story set in the Old West that has roots in real history.

Awesome! I've tried to write in this setting, but never finished anything. I feel like there is plenty of erotic leeway in Old West stories... you could go with the old Indian Princess cliche, have a saloon brawl with the last man standing being taken upstairs by the dance hall girl whose honor he defended, do a cattle drive version of Brokeback Mountain, have saloon girls entertaining themselves with each other before the evening rush begins... Lots of potential in the setting.

The one "success" I've had in that setting is a first line that I still think is dying for a way for me to expand it. I've tried to work with it several times, so I have multiple first paragraphs scattered around my hard drive with the same opening line...

"The first bullet saved my life."

 

[UsuallyPresent]

"Back before the Watcher came to be, tens of thousands of years of history happened that we know little of. We have all the stories - and that's what the 'histories' of that time period are, just stories and not necessarily factual - that existed from the Watcher's first moments of existence, and all events since are properly recorded, but there are many of those ancient stories that are questioned.

"The classic example is the debate between the Cabalists, the Evolvers, and the Built. Each has their own takes on exactly how the Watcher came to be, with their own preferred interpretations of the pre-Watcher records, but each have their own gaps and inconsistencies. We can't even be sure as to the beginnings of the creation of the Watcher. . . "

--DENIED. Historical reviews of pre-Watcher 'civilizations' (if I may stretch the term that far!) are restricted to third-Tier and higher, NOT for general consumption. The author is issued a second warning. Any additional revisionist history or inappropriate audience release may be subject to civil and criminal penalties to the full extend of the Rules.

 

[UsuallyPresent]

"Back before the Watcher came to be, tens of thousands of years of history happened that we know little of. We have all the stories - and that's what the 'histories' of that time period are, just stories and not necessarily factual - that existed from the Watcher's first moments of existence, and all events since are properly recorded, but there are many of those ancient stories that are questioned.

"The classic example is the debate between the Cabalists, the Evolvers, and the Built. Each has their own takes on exactly how the Watcher came to be, with their own preferred interpretations of the pre-Watcher records, but each have their own gaps and inconsistencies. We can't even be sure as to the beginnings of the creation of the Watcher. . . "

--DENIED. Historical reviews of pre-Watcher 'civilizations' (if I may stretch the term that far!) are restricted to third-Tier and higher, NOT for general consumption. The author is issued a second warning. Any additional revisionist history or inappropriate audience release may be subject to civil and criminal penalties to the full extend of the Rules.

I spent years writing for the Orion's Arm scifi setting. There are TONS of such entries of varying types in as hard-as-practical SciFi setting over at the Orion's Arm site. To be clear, the above isn't explicitly OA-relevant, but the style is pretty close to much of the Encyclopedia Galactica at that site...