Friday, 19 February 2016

Less than 72 hours...

So begin the countdown. There is less than 72hours to go before I send my latest work 'Confessions' off to be edited.

Despite what i said in my last post, I have kept at that one part which I've been stuck on for well over a month and have finally finished it. That's the good news. The bad news is that it took up almost all of my week off and I still have seven pages of notes and ideas to sort through to create maybe four paragraths of content (most of which says the same thing but writen down in different ways), to create a tad bit of clothed, grinding foreplay half from scratch, and add in several other pages of bonous material that is written on paper and scattered around the entire story. And I have less than three days to do it in, which also has to include work and sleeping. Can I do it? Well, to quote the bard, fucked if i know but i'll give it a damn good try.
 (There's never a time wizard when you need one.)


I've spent two years working on this, for most of the time it has been my sole project, it has battered me, sap my confidence and left me feeling like a husk, devoid of all creative enigies. Hopefully some of my old spirit will return once it's been complete.

On to other knews. In a curious twist, I've taken on a new commission this week, by the same chap who commissioned the original (so far unpublished fanfiction verson) of Confessons. This throws my current plans into a bit of a funk as now my immediate list of works to be written consists of:
  1. A day of Confessions, Part 2
  2. Sweet Temptations: The Bosses Daughter
  3. The so far unnamed VidelxPan DBZ fanfiction commission
  4. The Devil's Messenger (My original historical novel)
  5. This new commission (So far untiled).
Which ones do i begin working on first? I promised to start a Day of Confessions, however commissons also deserve slight preferencal treatment. All thoughts will be appreciated.

Finally, here is the fruit of my labours from the past two months...






“If you want me to make you cum…” She pivoted, swinging a long, perfectly toned leg across his waist, straddling him, baring escape and bringing them nose to nose. Leaning to the side, she ever so softly brushed her lips over his in the barest hint of a kiss, inwardly smirking as she felt him subtly shift to try and meet her, before mimicking the motions of the hand upon his thigh with the tip of her nose, sketching an intricate weaving web across his flushed cheek. She could feel his breath quickening, growing short and frayed, the warmth of each washing over her neck and sending tingling sensations shooting down her spine to the wet heat pulsing between her thighs. When her lips came within a hair’s breadth of his ear, she whispered in a voice threaded with promise, “just ask.” 
The look in his eyes when she drew back made her feel like a cat toying with a mouse, glorying in the sweet ambrosia of holding such power over another living creature,]. Just before it pounced.


 “Mina…” Mark gulped, his tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “We shouldn...”
Welding her full lips to his and thrusting her tongue into the warm cavern beyond, Mina silenced him with a hungry open-mouthed kiss. She didn’t want to hear what they should or shouldn’t do. She only wanted him and, abandoning her teasing ministrations upon his thigh, Mina snatched the pillow from his grasp and cast it aside before fisting the hand in his hair, the strands of dark chocolate softer than sable. Her free hand rose to cradle his jaw, the roughness of his skin rasping her palm and arousing her all the more as she swept her tongue in long circuits around his mouth and over his teeth, coaxing his to dance.
Mark groaned an indeterminable sound, the deep resonance reverberating through his throat to tingle over her lips, but whether of surrender or resistance, she didn’t care. For all his feeble protests, Mina could feel the weight of his bared arousal, hot and hard as steel, prodding her thigh and knew he wanted her just as badly. As if reading her thoughts, long and masculine arms enveloped her, one hand circling her waist while the other cupped the curve of her rump and crushed her to him with a force that made the actress gasp a mousy squeak. Then he was kissing her back, his ardour burning bright and fierce and fully the equal of her own.





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