Writer's Challenge - AKA Writer's Den, Lounge, Wreck Room etc etc

[Diva]

There was sawdust in her shoes. She scrunched up her toes to feel the tickle of it, standing on one foot, then the other. The urge to kick off her shoes to free those chaffing little particles was strong. The urge to feel her knees pressing into it, stronger.

On her knees. Sawdust digging into them as she knelt before Him, waiting at His leisure.

There was sawdust in her shoes and it made her wet.

[wolfbittenpoet]

The sawdust was down to soak up the blood. It was the time of slaughter. He had learned early never to name the pigs. Pigs were food on hoof. They were only fed so they could be eaten. Now he was covered in gore yet the work was nearly over and as long as the meat smoked well there would be plenty food this winter. A little bit of blood was worth it.

[wolfbittenpoet]

The sawdust was down to soak up the blood. It was the time of slaughter. He had learned early never to name the pigs. Pigs were food on hoof. They were only fed so they could be eaten. Now he was covered in gore yet the work was nearly over and as long as the meat smoked well there would be plenty food this winter. A little bit of blood was worth it his and theirs. He walked slowly the weight of the day weighing heavily upon him. He stopped at the pump in the garden and began to wash. The water ran pink and finally clear. He stripped off his shirt and continued to wash away the sweat now that the gore was gone. His back ached and as he stretched he glimpsed her. The ghost of his dreams.

[Artdecogoddess]

Bumping this cause I can--- come and read some cool short fiction by folks who hang at the Planet

[Artdecogoddess]

BUMPING THIS AGAIN ---

I LOVE THE ENTRIES THAT HAVE BEEN POSTED SO FAR!!!! WE HAVE SOME SERIOUS WRITING TALENT HERE AT THE PLANET!!!!!!


ADG

[wolfbittenpoet]

Originally Posted by wolfbittenpoet

The sawdust was down to soak up the blood. It was the time of slaughter. He had learned early never to name the pigs. Pigs were food on hoof. They were only fed so they could be eaten. Now he was covered in gore yet the work was nearly over and as long as the meat smoked well there would be plenty food this winter. A little bit of blood was worth it his and theirs. He walked slowly the weight of the day weighing heavily upon him. He stopped at the pump in the garden and began to wash. The water ran pink and finally clear. He stripped off his shirt and continued to wash away the sweat now that the gore was gone. His back ached and as he stretched he glimpsed her. The ghost of his dreams.

She watched him from the upstairs window. He was the first person to see her in decades. She was somewhat entranced by his sinewy frame and his all but unlimited strength. He worked until lesser men would be broken. She ghosted her fingers along the window leaving frost as she faded away.

[Hollylane]

Changeling…
by Hollylane 8/29/2011

There was sawdust on the floor that stirred as she walked through the swinging door into the darkness of the Arizona bar. Carelessly discarded peanut shells crunched under her boots as she made her way through the room, heading for the rear portion of the building where her friends awaited her. A few men at the bar turned to stare appreciatively at her backside encased in tight Wranglers.

Four pairs of eyes swung towards her as she planted her feet in front of their table, and a gentle jingle came from her spurs. There were a few gasps, a nervous smile, and wide eyes as she tipped her cowboy hat and gave them all a wink. She smoothed her mustache, and stroked her big silver rodeo belt buckle, smiling as she took in their unguarded reactions to what was obviously outlined below the belt.

“I’d like to re-introduce myself to ya’ll, I’d be appreciative if you could call me Darryl.”

Hours later he strolled back out into the warm desert air, with a happy and satisfied half-smile, now properly acknowledged as a handsome young man.

[Hollylane]

I think this deserves another ****bump****
August 30th has come and gone....

[Bootsandheels]

(Sexy strut into big empty apartment..…feelin’ it tonight…Brown high heeled leather boots, black hose , silk mini dress with leather belt…legs straddled between two tall chairs at the dining room table…)

The look…the sweet smile… as I begin to stroke your forehead gently…lightly petting your hair just at your temple…your head tipping back as you sigh deeply…whispering my name…babygirl…

I continue to caress your head and move to the back of your neck…massaging…stroking…sharp grab of your short hair…then stroking again…always finding a handhold…smiling….watching you move with my touch….eyes closed in divine reverie…

When they open again, your blue irises flood black with a look of pure hot desire…want…need…to…please they seem to say…please let me… please…
You…
With one hand on your chest, I push you gently back…“No…”
“No…not yet…” and start the stroking dance again …my hands rubbing your strong shoulders…squeezing your arms…a scratch and grab of nails just hard enough to make you shudder…slipping into an interlace of butch-femme fingers…

You pull me up to you…face to face now…Lips trembling…
Flick-lick… soft kiss… near miss… bite-swipe… kiss… no miss…
deep wet kiss….wet…so wet…nibble…bite…
Your fingers now…in my mouth-sucking licking biting…kissing each finger…playfully pulling at my bottom lip…a soft bite ending in another wet tongue tease before you take my mouth…soft…wet…spicy sweet....



The gauntlet is laid down...GO FOR IT!!! Finish by say 9/21...