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Story Development.


Too dumb for the shortbus
Shit, I've got writers block. Have to write an essay, this is all I came up with:

The night is gusty, yet peaceful. I watch a patch of leaves swirl playfully in the wind on a distant hill. The rough, sandy path appears almost white alongside the wavy dark grass around it. I feel the breeze flowing purposefully between my fingers, take a breath of the sweet air...there is special energy to it tonight. Looking up, the clouds themselves seem ethereal. Rather than indistinct haze or intense, dramatic curls, there are instead hundreds of smaller, shapely clouds dotting the sky. The almost-full moon glows gently behind them, and each cloud seems to glow faintly too. It is perfect. She is perfect.

Neither of us make a sound as we sink into the long, soft grass. I've heard of this silence before, but I never thought I would be able to experience it. It is a comfortable, content silence - a golden silence. Maybe it is the glowing sky, or the sweet, playful air, or the stillness of the quiet landscape, but I feel so close to her now, so close to her and what we share together, as if fate had chosen me, this life, this world, to play out a beautiful story. At this moment I love her more than I realized I could love, it is overwhelming, as if my soul were soaring between those distant clouds. I turn towards her, look into her eyes.

I wish I could stop time. I would stop it now, looking into those eyes. Soft, innocent, doe eyes. They close softly as I touch her face. I draw closer and she doesn't pull away. I touch her face, her lips, run my fingers through the rich, curly hair down her back. It feels as though there were nothing in the world except us, sheltered in this flowing grass, beneath this twinkling sky.

"I love you."

I hold her close, feel her warmth, her heartbeat. Her soft breath teases my neck unbearably. I lean in and kiss her face, her neck, her curls tickling me. I can hardly believe she is real. Her breathing grows deeper now, and so does mine. I keep stroking her hair, massaging her back. She is kissing me now, nuzzling against my neck. I lift my chin and her warm lips deliciously trace around my skin.
Her eyes flash excitement. I can't stand it any longer.

"I want you."

I pull myself to my knees, then lift her with me. I draw her near, wanting to feel her warmth pressed against me. Too hard. Startled, she pulls away, dropping on all fours. Then pauses, silent and still, not looking at me. I can hear her breathing, her back rising and falling with each breath. Slowly, I reach down and stroke my hand down along her back, then further down, down to her gorgeous ass. She doesn't stop me. I run both hands around and under her hips, then pull her, gentler this time, towards me. The warmth from the back of her thighs against the front of mine is intensely arousing. I pull off my shirt and lean over her, still on my knees. I whisper in her ear, "I love you...I love you...". And I believe my words, believe that there is nothing I have ever or will ever want more. Just herself, beautiful, charming, tantalizing - to see her sweet face at the peak of ecstasy, to hear her sigh with pleasure, to feel her heart race next to mine - these moments are worth more than any possession, any ambition.

I'm exposed now, and so is she. I arch over her, one hand in front, propping myself up, the other around her, up past the firm waist to brush one of her erect nipples. I rub its firmness between my thumb and index finger, gently twisting it. She gasps urgently. Now I slowly reach further down, grasping her inner thigh, feel her push impatiently against me. I massage her inner thigh and gradually circle my fingers up, to the moistness between her legs. I've heard that this soft, yielding region is referred to as the "Hills of Venus", after the Roman goddess of love herself. It's an unworldly, sensual pleasure deserving of its name. Continuing to rub her, I shift my hips behind her and press forward until the my tip rests against her moist, hot slit. I want to tease her, want to draw out her pleasure and urgency as long as possible. She leans back, and I penetrate her a half-inch before pulling away. Then I rest my head against her again. And involuntarily, she arches back again. I keep teasing her as long as I can stand it, still rubbing her, until we are both aching in anticipation, short, sharp breaths escaping our lips. The air itself tastes salty and intoxicating.

My member is soaked in her warm juices by now, trickling between my thighs. The head has been leaking preliminary fluid as I enter her, and though she can't see, it seems to excite her even more. My shaft is throbbing for the firm, burning moistness within her, but when I finally enter her, I do it very slowly, pushing within inch by inch, the sensitivity of the first contact between us indescribable. I feel her heat envelope me, feel her labia glide deliciously along the sides of my shaft, feel her internal muscles grip and convulse reflexively. A low moan escapes her lips. When I have pushed against her as hard as I can, I draw out smoothly then quickly thrust myself within her again. The change in pace catches her by surprise, her whole body trembling. I want her to come first. I want her to come and to keep thrusting as she is coming. I want to hear sweet voice moan in uncontrollable bliss. We begin rocking rythmically together. Then faster, and harder. The air around us grows even hotter; through my rapture I have a dim sensation that our souls have outgrown our bodies and have mingled with the air itself. Time itself felt suspended, the pleasure was almost unbearable for what seemed like a fiery, moist eternity.

She came.

Her low moan had been building up with each thrust into an ululation. As she climaxed, she quivered, her legs losing all strength and she rested her face in the cool grass. This is what I had been praying for; pulling her unresisting body back into position, I surged once again within her. Her eyes snapped open as her senses returned and she realized I intended to continue. Seeing those begging eyes flash, seeing her so vulnerable, so accepting, drove me to new heights of desire. I rocked against her as she lay still, her cries rising, urging me further. The bell around her neck rang with her cries. I was almost there. I reached down, grabbed two handfuls of her wooly hide and lunged deep within her.

BAAAAH!! BAAAAH! She bleated even as I pulsed deep within her. Bliss... I slumped exhausted next to her, breathing in the scent of that cool, sweet grass. We rested there, man and beast, fulfilled in each others company for the remainder of that magical night. I led her home and we had her for rare lamb chops with tangy apple sauce the next day.

Yeah - so thats it. How can I make this more suspenseful? Do I need to develop Dolly's character a bit more?

Oh shit, hang on, my mums knockn..