a story in progress.

Jan 29, 2005 22:54

haven't written in a while, i know.

the quick version: still not getting laid, frequency of masturbation has increased, espescially in these last three weeks.

but, just so not to bore you, i have a part of a story. i want to make it part of a larger novella. and i'm still trying to write the Rules of Conversation that are referred to. i see it as sort of an 18th century French-esque society with these incredible rules. and Conversation can be normal speaking, or what i've titled Privy Conversations, which are limited. it's just a couple of scenes, and badly written, i know. i just...i started writing it forever ago, and then just picked it up again. am pretty sure i started writing after a dream, which is what i do often. i guess all i want is validation of whether or not i should continue it.


One

From Melody's book Women's Rules of Conversation

1. You must never invite yourself into Conversation

Peytr turned and glanced about the room. There were several Conversations in progress, and many young ladies merely speaking in small groups. He excused himself for a moment from the Conversation he was presently engaged in. He touched, ever so lightly, the arm of a young unaccompanied woman. She turned gracefully to face him.
"Miss? May I have the pleasure of your company?"
She nodded. "Yes, sir," she said, and took the arm he offered.
"I'd like to invite you into a Conversation."
"Thank you sir," she said plainly, a flush creeping up her chest and into her cheeks.

///

He kissed her neck, and she inhaled sharply. But said nothing.
"Are you bled yet, my sweet dear?"
"No sir."
"Peytr."
"No, Peytr."
He murmured his words to her between kisses that were slowly traveling to her breasts. His hands held her tight to him, and one hand was unlacing the back of her bodice.
"Would you join me in a different sort of Conversation?"
She did not know how to respond. She had not yet read the book her mother had given her on Privy Conversations. She was not to read it until her first blood had come upon her.
"I have been instructed not to participate in a Privy Conversation until after my first blood."
"That is not a refusal," he paused. "I will tell you, sweet dear," he had coaxed a breast from the bodice at this point, and was laying soft kisses on it. Her nipple had become erect, and it was becoming no secret what track her own body wished to pursue. "…that a Privy Conversation before first blood often coaxes it on, and is very sweet. You are old enough to have had your first blood by now. And I would imagine that your fruit is as ripe as it needs to be."
She answered his questions as decorum outlined, but sometimes it was difficult to form words when she could hardly think. Her whole body felt hot, and she wanted nothing but to remove all of her garments.
"Would you refuse a Privy Conversation?" he continued, and took a nipple into his mouth. Her hands, previously kept to themselves, now were grasping his head, encouraging his suckling.
"Peytr," she breathed.
It was good enough for him, and he roughly ripped the rest of the bodice strings, and then ripped the fine fabric of her elaborate dress. Then she stood before him, in just her smallclothes. He looked her up and down, her supple and lithe body, and he somehow doubted she was not yet blooded. Her breasts were just beginning to curve and fill, and her hips had already begun to soften. But she had insisted on not having been blooded yet. And he had no one to know for sure but herself.
She pulled her cotton top off, and then shimmied out of her pantaloons. And stood nude, unashamed, for Peytr to see her.
His own desires did not take into account her innocence. He fell upon her, and coaxed her to the bed with kisses and caresses. Once upon the mattress, he climbed atop her, and found her feminine secrets. She was wet, and he held her tight beneath him as he thrust into her, breaking her innocence, and sheathed himself to the hilt. She gasped and there was a small tear at the corner of her eye, but he wiped it away, and held her as his body satisfied itself with her own. It was not long before she began to respond with her own body, her hips moving with his, her hands holding him as tight to her own body as she could. Peytr made it last as long as he could, before he spilled his seed within her. It was safe to do so, he knew, because she had not yet been blooded. His muscles relaxed, and he rolled off her.
"Is that the end?" she whispered in a breathy voice.
"It is. For now. Often many Privy Conversations take place before Conversation is Concluded."
"Really?" She rolled to face him. "Shall we Converse again, then?"
"Men must recover between Conversations."
"Ah," she said, and rolled to lay again on her back.
"But that does not mean that we cannot Speak in other ways," he whispered, and turned on his side to lay alongside her. He trailed his hand gently up and down her thigh, running his nails from the inside of her thigh to the outside, and her breath caught. She inhaled and opened herself to him, and his hand lightly gripped her as he pressed his thumb into her and begin to rub her venus in slow circles. Her eyes were closed and her breath ragged, so he cupped his hand around her centre and paused in the slow movements of his thumb to slide two fingers into her, still wet from their earlier Conversation. She bit her lip and thrust her hips towards him, her legs now bent butterfly style.
"God," she breathed, followed by "Petyr", which was just enough to get his own blood flowing again. He moved his hand, slid it up her body, and placed his fingers, wet with her juices into her mouth. She suckled them, and he lifted himself to lay between her legs. He placed the head of his cock just against her slit, and pressed gently, teasingly.
"Please?" she whimpered, and he thrust as gently as he could, at first remembering her more wounded state, but that thought evaporating as he felt her nether lips clench around him. He thrust deeply, and withdrew almost completely, pounding into her, and making her moans turn to more vocal screams. Her fingernails raked his back, and he knew that they would share Conversation again.

so...any good? any suggestions/constructive criticisms?

(and do i need to say again how much i love this image in my icon? it's my favourite royo image. i just find it beautiful...)
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