The fifth round of the Smut Marathon has come and gone. I thought the assignment of writing a story that takes place in the dark was ingenious. It's one of my most favorite prompts thus far.
We're also into my sweet spot for erotica writing, the 400-700 word count range. Anything less than this is a struggle for me to tell a convincing story and anything much more than this is a struggle to spin out a tight tale that doesn't wander all over the place. The interesting thing about the marathon is seeing where other people's sweet spots lie. And of course, getting a chance to battle with the types of writing that don't come easily.
There's a lot of this game left to play. I wish all the writers much luck and inspiration as we continue. May your genius visit often.
Is this Heaven?
The closet door slams shut and his bony shoulders flatten against the wall. His heart hammers so loudly he can barely hear the muffled laughter and whispers on the other side of the door.
She rustles around beside him and something soft brushes his arm. A wool coat maybe? Or possibly a red gold curl from her ponytail?
“There’s so much stuff in here!” she says with a giggle.
His voice shakes. “Yeah,” he says. “It’s so small! Like not even big enough for two people!”
There’s a quiet pause. He’s such an idiot! Why can’t he be cool? Quick! Say something to make her giggle again! But now all he can think about is her pink lips and little freckles and the hot close darkness all around them. His cock hardens immediately, springing urgently through his shorts. Oh God no! He reaches his hand into his pocket and grips his rigid cock, pushing it down his leg and hoping she can’t feel him. Or hoping…
He's gotta get out of here. But wait, is that bubble gum? Before he can stop himself, he leans forward to get a better sniff and his nose collides with soft skin. She gasps. He feels her warm breath on his ear and realizes that he’s touching her cheek. He freezes but he can’t back away. What is that smell? Flowery perfume? Lip gloss? Something in her hair? God, she smells so good.
“Are you gonna kiss me?” she whispers.
“Uh,” he stammers, “Um, I think… I mean… I don’t…”
She shifts and presses her soft chest against his arm, so close their noses are touching. He holds his breath and strangles his pulsing cock with his hand, trying to keep it pressed against his leg. Her damp breath washes over his cheek, throbbing in time to the heartbeat rocketing through his chest.
His eyes close as her pink freckled lips slide over his, her wet tongue curling over his bottom lip. Before he can open his mouth, it’s over.
His head sags back against the wall, his breath coming in big shuddering gasps with the sweetness of her bubble gum lingering on his lips. This closet is magic. He’s never been anywhere this magical. Ever. In all of his whole short life.
“Oh God...” he says.
She giggles softly.