Story Excerpt
I'm bored, and whatever, I I figured WHAT THE HEY, I'VE ALREADY BEEN POSTING A FUCKTON TODAY and I decided to post an excerpt from this story I'm writing about two sexy crazy thieves and the hapless guy they seduce to be their partner in crime/decadence/threesomes. Except the hapless guy is sort of maladjusted and just as nuts as they are, but in a more subtle "abandonment issues and too much childhood sexualization" sort of way, and they all go around stealing things and killing people and having a surprisingly tender and loving relationship. Like Bonnie and Clyde but with three people instead of two.
Anyway, whatever, here's a little paragraph from it.
Looking at Kate and Jamie together, I felt the stirrings of desire stronger than I had in years. When was the last time I had been this turned on? I wondered, sitting on the couch across from them and staring as Jamie worked a hand up under Kate’s shirt, planting sloppy kisses on her lips. Not since… not since mum had dated Conner, really. I remembered watching him around the house, t-shirt sticking to his chest and dark with sweat, fixing something or other or working on his car. I remembered his arm around my mother’s waist, his hands sliding lower when he thought I was in the other room. I remembered getting drunk and lying naked in his bed one night when mum was working late, clumsily propositioning him and nearly passing out when he touched me. He had big hands. I used to suck on his fingers, swirl my tongue around them as he pushed them deeper into my throat, his thumb holding my jaw steady. He left eventually and I grew up. My hands got larger as my body got taller, but it was never the same.
What do you think? Dreadful? Decent? Should I keep going?
Anyway, whatever, here's a little paragraph from it.
Looking at Kate and Jamie together, I felt the stirrings of desire stronger than I had in years. When was the last time I had been this turned on? I wondered, sitting on the couch across from them and staring as Jamie worked a hand up under Kate’s shirt, planting sloppy kisses on her lips. Not since… not since mum had dated Conner, really. I remembered watching him around the house, t-shirt sticking to his chest and dark with sweat, fixing something or other or working on his car. I remembered his arm around my mother’s waist, his hands sliding lower when he thought I was in the other room. I remembered getting drunk and lying naked in his bed one night when mum was working late, clumsily propositioning him and nearly passing out when he touched me. He had big hands. I used to suck on his fingers, swirl my tongue around them as he pushed them deeper into my throat, his thumb holding my jaw steady. He left eventually and I grew up. My hands got larger as my body got taller, but it was never the same.
What do you think? Dreadful? Decent? Should I keep going?