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Bouvre

Story Writers: Moments You're Proud Of

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Writing is a degrading and frustrating process, but sometimes you come out of that degradation and frustration with that One Good Sentence or that One Good Moment.
Share some of your favorites. Or the lines you're willing to share.

From "The Incubus":
When he invites you into his dorm, you aren’t surprised to find it a single room with vertical blinds shut tight. He closes the door behind him and clicks a switch. Small pumpkin lights bordering the high corners of his walls, glowing warmly like house lights in the distance. Terry’s belt tongue clinks against the buckle. He kicks his shoes off and they tumble past you and into the desk. 

From my thesis/novel-in-progress:
“Lots of people are on Mark Prior’s dick,” she exclaimed over the sound of organ fanfare. “But if he ain’t eating my pussy I’m going to wait on him to actually help us win the World Series.”

Edited by Bouvre
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I'm pretty proud of a lot of the dialogue that comes out of my fanfictions.

Dialogue has always been a bit of a struggle for me, but I've gotten a lot of practice at it while fucking around with the X-men. 

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4 hours ago, SwimModSponges said:

I'm pretty proud of a lot of the dialogue that comes out of my fanfictions.

Dialogue has always been a bit of a struggle for me, but I've gotten a lot of practice at it while fucking around with the X-men. 

Awesome! I love dialogue too. Got anything specific to share?

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Oh geez, now im on the spot.

Well, in my Jurassic World story, end of chapter 3/into chapter 4, i introduce a character from the last story in the series who gained my universal control powers as well.

My dialogue with him isnt great, but the confusion i pulled out of my character prior to the first meeting, as well as with Xavier and Beast during that time, well its pretty good.

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To be honest, I mostly write for my own amusement.

I guess in that case most of my proudest achievements come from putting myself in the headspace of the characters, feeling the words flow through me; having a character tell a joke that makes me chuckle.

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All right, I just wrote this and I found it humorous. 

Quote

“Scott, just go already,” I said. “You’re wasting everybody’s time. Tell you what, I’ll be right behind you.”
“How do I know you’re not just going to lock me out?” he asked like a bitch.
“I’m getting real goddamn close to doing so,” I replied while giving him the crazy eye. “Now come on, I don’t have all day.” Cautiously, we made our way to the emergency exit. “Hey, I’m going to go into stealth mode right now, so you’re not going to be able to see me for a bit. I’ll still be right behind you though.” I was lying. 
“Hey, wait a minute, can you do that for me too?” asked Scott as I turned invisible and started walking away.
“Sure,” I replied. “There, it’s done. You’re invisible to the outside observer, but you can still see yourself so you don’t accidentally blow your hand off or something.” I was lying again.
“Holy shit…” he said as he opened the door. He turned back to us before continuing. “We really aren’t in Kansas anymore.”
“God damnit Scott,” I shouted. “I don’t want to hear about Kansas again unless someone is talking about ‘Cary on My Wayward Son,’ do you understand me?” He opened his mouth again, but before he could even think of the words that were about to ramble from his mouth, a long black rope dropped down behind him, followed by a black-and red clad super-soldier who snatched him from the entryway and ascended in the blink of an eye.
“All right, we’re going to rush the door!” strategized Wolverine. “I doubt they can take us all at the same time. You guys,” he said, pointing to the combined members of Dethklok. “Do you have any special abilities we can use?”
“Well we rock pretty fuckin’ hard,” replied Murderface.
“So that’s a no,” replied Logan. “Any chance you’ve got any kind of weapons?”
“What, are you fuckin’ joking?” asked Pickles as he reached behind his drum set to pull out a pair of hooked blades. The other members of the band were likewise arming themselves; Skwisgaar and Toki pulling out a white and black longsword, respectively. Murderface removed a revolver from where it was lodged in the space  between his buttocks and pants. He brushed a stray hair from the trigger of the piece, accidentally discharging the weapon into the hull. Finally, Nathan Explosion returned from the backstage area with an enormous battleaxe. Dr. Rockso created a balloon sword before going back to snorting the cocaine.


 

Edited by SwimModSponges
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This exchange from episode (read: chapter) 4 of my anime idea loosely based off of this image, spoilermarked for those actually interested in reading the whole thing.

 

“Okay, then answer me this: what’s your girls’ connection to Kizuka? Besides being classmates.”

That question was enough to make Shin open his right eye, letting him pay more attention outside of mere listening.

Yukisa blushed, her aloofness breaking as she looked up at the ceiling and blinked, trying to fight the embarrassment of being put on the spot. “Uh, he’s an acquaintance, that’s all.”

Utsugi closed her eyes and smiled. “What Yukisa’s trying to say is that she’s got a crush on him.”

Yukisa let out a tiny squeak of a mortified gasp, her mouth hanging slightly agape as her blush deepened.

“She’s not alone,” Utsugi added as she turned her head back, bringing her hands together as she too blushed. “I’ve got a crush on him too.”

Chikuru nodded, holding her right hand to her cheek as she blushed in infatuation. “Mm-hmm. You could say we’re his harem~.”

“Or more realistically, his admirers,” Shirei added, looking down and blushing.

Like the others, Akari blushed as well, holding an otherwise blank expression as she looked at Naokuu and replied. “He means everything to us, you see.”

Really now…” Naokuu’s voice exuded a heavy air of apathy at their feelings, and as such he turned away from them, looking back at Shin. The boy’s eyes were closed again, and he too was blushing, though not out of any form of attraction. “Ehhh, I don’t see it.” He raised his hand and lightly jabbed at the air twice with his pen. “So is he packin’ down there or what?”

Shin’s eyes shot open and almost bugged out, a chill going up his spine as his face found itself overcome with an even more embarrassed blush. The question also made the girls blush. Utsugi, Shirei and Akari all looked down with their bright red faces, while Chikuru looked up, her hand still on her cheek, and Yukisa angrily turned to Naokuu.

“What makes you think we’d know something like that, you perv!?”

“Whatever, just tell me what’s so great about him.” He moved his hand back and forth, the pen moving with those simple jerks.

Yukisa re-crossed her arms and closed her eyes, looking up with a huff. “Hmph! Well it’s got nothing to do with his looks, that’s for sure!”

Utsugi looked up and smiled wide. “Yeah, it’s more his niceness than anything else!”

Shirei nodded with a soft grunt. “If Shin’s one thing, he’s nice.”

Very nice,” Akari agreed.

“So nice~,” Chikuru replied dreamily.

Yukisa brought her head down some, opening her eyes and smiling softly, a brief chuckle coming out from behind her closed lips. “I’ll admit, Kizuka is pretty nice…”

“I’m sorry, what!?”

Yukisa’s expression changed at Naokuu’s disbelief, her eyes closing for a second before glancing at the detective with her usual emotion of annoyance.

“He just grabbed you by the collar and called you a bitch. I wouldn’t call that ‘nice’.”

“Please, like you’d know anything!” Yukisa shouted at Naokuu in frustration, lowering her head and glaring at him in kind. “You don’t even know how terrible Sadameicho is, do you?”

“I can tell just from looking at the place,” Naokuu nonchalantly replied, glaring back at Yukisa as he pressed the tip of his pen against the paper. “But please, enlighten me.”

Edited by PokeNirvash
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Here's a fun thing I whipped up last night: it's the start of chapter 8, just six chapters to go before I can put this one to bed and start on the next one:

“Well, at least I don’t hear any banjos…” said Scott to himself, pretending he was clever because nobody else was there to tell him he wasn’t. Almost as if on cue, the roar of a large engine shattered the relative silence around him. He spun around; attempting to isolate the source, but the sheer wall of noise which pounded through his surroundings made the task impossible. The muddy ground beneath his feet shook. To his left, the thicket of brambles began to thrash violently as an enormous machine ripped through the underbrush. Scott scrambled up into the tree as the metal behemoth tore into the clearing; the toothlike black rubber treads biting into the ground as the enormous truck above it burst into view. The roar continued as the vehicle continued past, pulling behind it an equally massive boat. The lead vehicle whipped around as it reached the far end of the clearing; the final vehicle in the procession: another massive truck, only now emerging from the Georgian underbrush. As the linked convoy circled around Scott in the tree, a loud holler ya-hoo’ed from the cab of the first truck. 


“We done treed us an X-Man!” shouted the strange green shape of the driver as he whipped around the tree in a tight circle. Scott opened his visor and let out a blast of energy which struck the truck directly in the engine. “My truck-boat-truck!” lamented the creature which slithered from the front seat of the now immobile monster truck. It appeared to Scott to be some sort of intelligent terrestrial octopus-like being, wearing a hat that said “These Nuts Don’t Run.”


“We got us a live one, daddy!” shouted a similar looking creature with a reddish blonde mullet as it too slithered from the vehicle. And he was armed with a shotgun. Before Scott could react the gun went off, sending his brain flying into the mossy branches of the tree and his mind into oblivion.

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From episode 5 of Attack of the Kinky Kunoichi:

Near the southern edge of Shinjuku, traffic along the Meiji Dori Avenue was thinning out. The lanes leading out of the ward were running smoothly with vehicles, though inbound traffic was scarce past the intersection with Japan National Route 20, with barely any of it actually crossing into Shinjuku. What’s more, along the empty asphalt lanes lit up by the streetlamps and gradually dimming window lights, a group of men ranging from their late 20s to their mid-40s walked in a group. The occasional car in the other lane, the intervals between growing farther and farther apart, paid them no mind, in spite of their intimidating appearance. Some dressed in sweaters and hoodies, with skinny pants bearing a stripe down one or both sides. Others wore business suits, tie optional. Most had full heads of hair, neatly combed back or dyed and wild, always with sideburns. One was shaved bald, with a tattoo inked on the side of his head. One carried a sword, while another drug a bat along the ground. The one in front, the most businessman-like of the bunch numbering seven, had a pistol in one hand as he walked with a confident stride. Despite their differences in appearance, dress, and weapon, they all had one thing in common: their status as yakuza.

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I'm pretty proud of my method of painting pictures with words. I can be verbose- ah who am I kidding, I'm verbose AF. Not to mention overly specific; there is a particular vision I wish to transfer from mind to the mind of the reader. Only that specific image will do.

To that end, if you've never read the massive lesbian orgy/Deadpool vs dinowhores at the end of XvAvP, you're missing out friend.

Here it be-

Chapter 21 - Uneven Edge Exclusive Post Credits Orgy Spectacular!

The constant pounding of the bass which echoed through velveteen walls of the Champagne Room was like a heartbeat; the regularly pulsating thump throbbing through the muffled walls of the chamber spoke to the mind at its most primal level, the instinctual evocations drowning out any hope of rational thought coalescing within the more advanced parts of the brain. The lighting within the small octagonal room was equally obscuring; the amber glow of the dim moodlight above barely reaching the dark red and black leopard print which adorned the walls. Within that darkness, silent shapes moved, circling around their prey. In the middle of this primal pit of passion, Deadpool sat up in a large round bed, watching as the shadows danced erotically in the darkness; the momentary flash of bare scaled skin visible as for an instant as the hunters moved too closely into the light.

The pulsations of the bass within the room began to die down as the far-off DJ began to spin the next track. Distracted for an instant by the change, Deadpool lost track of the darkened figures which hunted in the shadows. The room around him was still; the only heartbeat he could feel was his own, the pounding suddenly amplified within his chest as he sat for an unbearable moment in the empty darkness.

The darkness in front of him shifted as one of the figures stepped into the periphery of the light before him. Deep shadows still cast over her visage as she came forward just close enough that Deadpool had to squint his eyes shut (@Fuggiepoo) to be able to see her. The low light cast fierce shadows across her sharply contoured face, revealing a ferocious beauty. Her narrow birdlike jawline left no doubt that she was in fact a carnivore; and the yellow, slit-pupil eyes which set above high cheekbones held within them the piercing gaze of a beast mid hunt. Lower, the faint outline of her lithe frame was barely visible within the darkness; Deadpool could barely make out the curves of her small perky breasts as they gently rose with each of the creature’s quick breaths.  His eyes were once again drawn to hers; their glow in the darkness mesmerizing. She opened her mouth slightly; thin lips parting to reveal a row of razor sharp teeth within. As Deadpool continued to stare down the hunter in the shadows, a slash of movement to his left startled him. He turned his head just in time to see another one of the reptilian women leap from the shadows; landing on a standing position on the bed next to him, his face mere inches from the pink opening between her emerald and white scaled legs.

“Clever girl,” said Deadpool as a pair of clawed scaly hands wrapped around the back of his head, grinding his open mouth forcefully onto her wet cloaca.

Meanwhile, back in the foyer of Xavier’s mansion, the lesbian orgy had only just begun. Kitty, who had entered the room wearing a lacy pink lingerie top with matching panties, was the first to initiate contact; reaching beneath the strap of Jubilee’s bright yellow bikini top and playfully running her finger along the length of the fabric, her fingernails gently rubbing across the tanned flesh beneath.  Jubilee giggled nervously before biting her lip and leaning over to Kitty to steal a quick kiss; a kiss which was reciprocated as kitty’s lips followed Jubilee’s as they disengaged. Coming forward again more boldly, Jubilee’s open mouth once again clasped onto Kitty’s willing lips; her hands reaching downwards, gently caressing the sides of the lingerie-clad woman before her as her hands made her way to Kitty’s hips and the barrier of frilly pink fabric which sealed away her lustiest parts. Kitty’s attention shifted from the strap of Jubilee’s swimsuit as she moved her hand directly over the Asian woman’s small perky breasts, her stimulated nipples clearly visible through the yellow cloth. Kitty phased through the swimsuit top as she made contact with Jubilee’s waiting breasts, which heaved with nervous excitement as Kitty began to massage them.

Next to them, Wanda Maximoff and Psylocke were in a similar state of engagement, with Psylocke having just removed Wanda’s black and red lace top as Wanda grasped Psylocke’s firm buttocks. She leaned her head back in ecstasy as the other woman fondled her now exposed breasts; a quick gasp of surprised pleasure breaking free from her ruby-red lips as Psylocke’s tongue lashed out at her pert nipple.

X-23, wearing nothing more than a light silver chain which hung suspended between the piercings in her nipples, stalked over to the visibly shocked Jean Grey, forcefully grabbing her by the back of the head and pulling her into a deep kiss. Jean resisted at first, but the unabated passion with which X-23’s mouth consumed hers made her weak in the knees. After mere moments of resistance Jean folded to the temptation; her tense muscles began to relax as she gave into the seduction, her clenched hands loosening until finally opening and cupping X-23’s large breasts. Using her thumb to manipulate X-23’s nipple piercing, Jean pulled back and began kissing at her neck and collar bone as X-23 reached over and began to unzip Jean’s combat uniform.

Mystique leaned in closely to Storm as they watched the scene unfold around them. She brushed the dark-skinned woman’s white hair aside and bent down to gently caress the nape of her neck, eyes never leaving the action. She kissed again, lower and deeper as Storm let out a low moan and reached her hand back down between Mystique’s legs. Stepping forwards slightly Mystique continued her kissed down Storm ‘s ebony neck as she reached into her combat suit and began rubbing the large chocolate mound of breast within. Legs now slightly spread, Storm’s fingers more easily found there destination within Mystique’s crevice. She gasped slightly as the first digit found its way inside of her, biting her lip and wincing slightly as the second entered. As the fingers rhythmically pounded in and out of her, both Mystique and Storm struggled to maintain concentration on watching the other women before them, but the temptation was too great. Spinning around, Storm dropped to her knees to better administrate to Mystique’s hungry beaver. She paused for a moment; intimidated by the fearsome creature which now stared her down. Above the mound of dark blue flesh a fire red shock of pubic hair tufted out in a small downwards facing triangle. Beneath this bright red arrow, the blue flesh gave way to a recessed compartment of pure pink musculature; within which her fingers were now tightly bound. She withdrew her long brown phalanges to the last knuckle, to the white bases of her painted fingernails; the corded layers of flushed silk wrapping them tightly all the while. With a slight twitch, Storm’s fingers moved within the final centimeter of Mystique's love canal. Her outer labia, glistening now with her own juices, quivered along with the movement of Storm’s hesitant caress. Gathering her courage Storm spread her fingers wide, the lips parting easily; a gaping maw opening wide to devour any and all that enter. She swallowed once involuntarily before parting her own lips wide and inserting her tongue as deeply as possible within the eager opening. Her teeth ground into the peak of Mystique's most sensitive part as she reached her maximum depth. Like a Venus flytrap Mystique’s inner walls snapped closed around the deeply buried tongue within. There it stayed for a moment, before the strain on her mouth forced Storm to pull back her penetration. Slowly, as the suction of Mystique’s vestibule was reluctant to give way, Storms tongue withdrew from Mystique; the bumps of her taste buds pressed tightly against the now saturated cords of flesh which closed in around it. With a quick jab, Storms tongue entered her again; the arc higher than before, this volley strumming the hidden nerve bundle which lay there. A quivering contraction shook through the flesh surrounding Storm’s tongue as she withdrew once more; once again momentarily raking across Mystique’s g-spot with the dorsal side of her tongue. The tip of her tongue meandered upwards, now focused on the throbbing clitoris which had descended from its hood at the top of the vagina. Flicking her tongue ravenously against the small fleshy pearl, Storm once again inserted her fingers. Mystique inhaled sharply at the at the assault, closing her yellow eyes and tipping her head back as she bit her lower lip. To her side, the sound of rustling cloth attracted her attention.

Rogue, being unable to join in on the orgy due to her life-absorbing skin, had taken a place on the sidelines in order to observe the main event. Index finger raised to her supple crimson-purple painted lips, she bit down on her vinyl-gloved digit as her other hand worked one of the large breasts which remained hidden beneath the dark material of her combat uniform. She cupped the bottom of the large round mass of flesh and fabric in her palm, kneading the tissue roughly. Her thumb and forefinger latched onto her nipple as she began squeezing at the sensitive pebble of skin bound tightly beneath her restrictive clothing. She bit down harder on the glove, pinching and tugging at the nipple though the fabric. Mystique now stared her directly in the eye; her face intermittently contorted by small spasms of pleasure which rippled through her. Mystique adjusted her footing once again, now affording Rogue an unobstructed view of where she and Storm connected. Rogue’s teeth released their grip as a sudden twinge of pain cut through her entranced state; she was momentarily shocked by how forcefully she had been biting down. She slid her finger across her lips, streaking the lipstick in the corner of her mouth, before meandering downwards. In a single flawless motion the finger trailed down from her lips, past her exposed collarbone, down and around the other firmly bound breast and nipple, before finally finding its way down to the tight crotch of her combat-suit pants. She began to rub vigorously at the intersection of the seams; the friction caused by her gloved finger along the fabric between her legs creating a warming sensation which saturated through her clothing to the eager flesh beneath. She pressed her fingers as deeply into the flexible material as they could go, successfully parting her labia around them. A deluge of wetness quickly saturated the material which separated herself as she began to rock her fingers back and forth into the gap she had created.

The first screams of orgasm came from Jubilee; a series of quick high-pitched chirps escaped her lips as the electric edges of pleasure began pulse through her. The chirps evolved to a rapid repetition of the word “fuck” as she finished in a high pitched squeal; kicking her legs out wildly as she was driven over the edge and lost control. Sparks shot from her palms, scorching the lacquered wooden floor as she grasped desperately at the smooth surface in a vain attempt at grounding herself. She was unsuccessful as another powerful orgasm shook through her almost immediately after the first had passed. Unable to take anymore stimulation, she reached down to push Kitty away from her unceasingly powerful cunnilingus, however her hand passed directly through the other woman’s head. Kitty, her face phased through Jubilee’s crotch, left only her tongue tangible as it wriggled deeply through her most sensitive parts.

“No more, please,” she gasped as she reached down between her legs, cupping her hand around the thick puffy labia majora and the rapidly contracting vagina which lay within. She closed her legs around her hand, running an occasional finger through the sopping we gap as she attempted to catch her breath. Kitty watched her playfully for a moment before reaching for her chin and pulling her into a deep kiss. The taste of her own aphrodisiacal juices saturating the tongue which was now being thrust into her mouth was overpowering, and she soon found herself fighting Kitty’s tongue for dominance of the pink and ivory arena that was their combined mouths. Breaking free of the embrace, Kitty smiled mischievously as she pushed Jubilee back down. As she stood, the pink frilly lingerie faded though her, falling to the floor. She reached down with both hands; fingers raking through the wisps of sandy brunette hairs which adorned her mons pubis. Below them; the bright pink color contrasted sharply against her pale skin, hung Kitty Pryde’s large, meaty pussy lips. Grasping them with both hands, she stretched the wet membranes impressively wide as she descended onto Jubilee’s waiting face.

Near them, X-23 had just finished removing the last of Jean’s clothing; the white cotton panties coming free from her pelvis with a tearing sound as the feral woman ripped them off with her teeth. Jet black hair darkly framed her face as she stared up Jean, a ferocious grin crossing her lips with a snarl as she grabbed her pale legs and flipped her onto her back. Before she could react Jean found herself staring up at her own ankles, clutched in the hands of the impossibly strong X-23 who now stared down at her, having not broken eye contact for the duration of the maneuver. Her nostrils flared as she hovered over the bright ginger patch of pubic hair which haloed the small lips of her pale-pink genitalia. Opening her mouth slowly, she extended a pierced tongue which pressed gradually into the rapidly moistening crevasse. A quiver of anticipation ran through Jean as the small adamantium barbell which poked out from the center of X-23’s tongue made contact with her clitoris. With a purr of amusement, she pulled her tongue back before swinging her body around and positioning herself directly over Jean, with one leg on either side of her head. Jean stared up at the savage cunt of the woman who now squatted above her. Jean gasped as once again the cold metallic barbell made contact with her stimulation-hungry clit. A fierce snarl appeared on X-23’s wild face as she smashed herself down onto Jean’s open mouth. Shocked by the sudden assault, she gasped for air as she twisted her head about; attempting to escape. Above her, X-23 rode her face vigorously while pounding her tongue deep into Jean’s pale snatch. Desperate for air, Jean attempted to scream out in submission, but her voice was literally muff-led by the thick layers of flesh, hair, and fluids. X-23 relented momentarily, lifting herself from Jean’s face as she withdrew her tongue. Jean lay gasping for a moment, staring again at the dripping quim above. She could feel X-23’s hot breath on her own moist lips; twitching in anticipation. Taking another gasp of air, Jean reached up and pulled X-23’s hips back down onto her face. She forced her tongue deep into the angry pussy which ground roughly into her face; above her, X-23 inserting a finger into her ginger minge as she manipulated Jean’s clit with her tongue.

A crackle of energy hummed to life as Psylocke moaned and bit her lip, squeezing an erect nipple between her thumb and forefinger. Before her knelt the Scarlet Witch; who had momentarily paused in her cunnilingus. A red glow appeared around her hands, the energy coalescing into a bright neon phallus roughly nine inches in length. The beam of energy pulsed in her hands as she grabbed the ethereal wang. In a smooth motion, she ran her tongue from the base to the tip; her ruby red lips wrapping around the rounded end of the instrument, sucking like a lollypop before removing it from her mouth with a pop. The red energy beam crackled again with excitement as Wanda looked up at Psylocke lustily. Psylocke reached down; opening her moist, purple-tinged labial folds in anticipation. Both she and Wanda watched as the hot red shaft entered her with ease; the glow disappearing within her as Wanda pushed against Psylocke’s tight inner walls. Psylocke moaned as Wanda bottomed out within her, the fingers wrapped around the base of the psychic sex toy caressing her lower lips. Wanda lowered her head, again sliding her tongue along the vibrating beam of energy. As she reached the throbbing bead of Psylocke’s engorged clitoris, she wrapped her tongue around the small sensitive organ and, taking within her lips, began to suckle at it while sliding the glowing phallus in and out. Using her other hand, Wanda reached down to her own erogenous zone. Spreading her red lips apart with her thumb and middle finger, she inserted her index finger deeply into herself. Wetness dripped down her inner thigh as she worked both vaginas. Disengaging from Psylocke’s clit she stood; removing the finger from within her and placing it before the other woman, who eagerly wrapped her lips around the glistening digit. Reaching her hand out to her side, purple-pink psionic energy burst forth from her with a blinding flash. The energy phallus Psylocke now held was easily twice the size of the one created by Wanda, and her eyes went wide as she lay on her back; legs spread in preparation. Standing above her with a wicked grin, Psylocke sunk the psionic energy beam deep within her velveteen folds. Wanda gasped as the electric energy plunged into her; the tingling sensation within her unlike anything she had ever felt. Psylocke, now lying across from her, took the other end of the energy beam and pressed it into herself. She slid herself down its crackling length as far as she could, her nether lips brushing softly against Wanda’s as her thrust terminated. Their two genitalia sat kissing for a moment; their juices mingling as they enjoyed the electrical sensation which filled them both. Wanda pushed forwards first, shifting the beam inside them and rubbing their clits together momentarily before rocking back; this action was then mirrored by Psylocke, who reached a hand forwards to massage one of Wanda’s breasts. They moaned simultaneously as the scissoring action became more vigorous, the bolt of energy which connected them vibrating intensely as it pumped between their orifices. The moans evolved as the sensations became more intense; finally culminating in a shared scream of triumph as a simultaneous orgasm surged through them.

Mystique, who had been watching the exchange closely as Storm‘s tongue and fingers worked her snatch, was also on the verge of orgasm. With a final vigorous thrust, Storm took her over the edge; she cried out in exhilaration as Storm’s fingers raked across her g-spot, sending waves of orgasm coursing through her entire blue body. Rogue tore at her combat suit as she watched the convulsions of pleasure before her; a single breast popping free from the restrictive material as she reached down to unzip her pants. Pulling them down to her ankle and sitting up on the desk, she spread her legs wide and began to rub herself through her see-through black mesh panties, which by this point were dripping with her wetness. As she watched; Mystique, still weak in the knees, bent Storm over and ran her tongue along the crevice of her sculpted ebony buttocks. She paused, momentarily, flicking her tongue across the winking brown eye buried deep within. Running a finger down the moistened trail created by her tongue, Mystique pressed at the balloon knot until finally it relented; allowing her finger deep inside the impossibly tight ring of muscle. Once inside, Mystique turned her attention to the mocha-tinged lips below. Storm cried out in ecstasy as Mystique’s tongue morphed and contorted within her vagina; mercilessly hammering against her most sensitive parts. Rogue, eyes still transfixed by the erotic show before her, pulled her mesh panties aside, revealing a white-streaked carpet that did in fact match the curtains. Her still-gloved fingers pushed deeply into her virgin pussy; the impeccably shaped lips wrapping tightly around the black vinyl as she thrust into herself again and again. Warmth spread up from her pussy as her self-fucking reached a fever pitch. She screamed as the built-up pressure finally broke; her suppressed sexual energy gushing forth as a torrent of orgasmic liquids burst free around her fingers, splashing wetly to the floor in front of her.

X-23, still grinding against Jean’s face, came almost immediately afterwards in a shower of wetness that dripped down Jean’s face; the redheaded woman beneath her coming as well. Her shouts of ecstasy were muffled within X-23’s ferocious cunt, but the throbbing motions of her own ginger clit was unmistakable. Next to them, Kitty Pryde had grabbed onto the back of Jubilee’s head; phasing her hips through the Asian teen’s head as she roughly fucked the young girl’s tongue until she came. Storm screamed as Mystique inserted another finger into her anus; stretching the small hole impossibly wide as her tongue probed the black woman’s vagina to orgasm. All parties now satisfied to the point of exhaustion, the various X-women collapsed in a pile of sweat and orgasmic fluids.

Meanwhile, in the Champaign Room, the situation could not have been more chaotic. Fear and exhilaration filled the dark room; the sole amber light having long since been destroyed. Within the darkness, Deadpool was both the hunter and the prey in a deadly game. His ammunition long since expired, Wade now held onto a small knife, his only defense against the monsters which stalked the shadows. With a predatory cry, one of the raptor-women leapt onto him, her dark blue scales shimmering in the darkness. Knocking the small knife away with a flick of her clawed hands, she brought her cloaca roughly down onto his exposed pelvis; a look of ravenous hunger in her glowing yellow eyes as she rode his dick ferociously. A fierce snarl crossed her face as she lifted her hand up to comb through her long hair-like quills. He stared up at the perfectly shaped scaly breasts of the reptilian woman above him, struggling to maintain his wits as her hot wet cloaca ground up and down the length of his cock. Like a flash of lightening she struck; her razor sharp talons ripping through the air towards his throat. He was barely able to dodge the sudden attack; her claws leaving deep gashes in the sheet and bed where hit head had been only moments before. Summoning the strength of his resolve, he lifted the creature off him and tossed her across the room. He was barely free for a moment before another of the beasts pounced. This time, however he was prepared for the attack, and caught the screeching woman mid-leap; twisting her around before slamming her roughly to the bed. Moving her scaled tail out of the way, he thrust himself deeply into the ravenous beast’s hole.

Like a panicked animal he pounded at her, eyes constantly scanning; aware that at any moment he could be attacked but willing to risk it for the almost surreal pleasure found within this strange third hole; neither vagina nor anus but with the qualities of each. Against his better judgement, he released one of the woman’s clawed hands and instead grabbed a handful of her scaled breast. She hissed in protest.

Searing hot pain tore through his back as one of the other beasts leaped onto him, tearing him away from his conquest and sending him to the floor. As quickly as she had attacked, she disappeared; leaving Deadpool alone once again in the darkness. As he lay there, a clawed reptilian foot appeared by the side of his head; another on the other side. Following the contour of the black and red scaled legs up into the darkness, he found himself staring up between the legs of the alpha. She issued a long, low hiss as the glowing eyes of the other females poked out in the darkness around him, eager for a taste of his flesh. Above him, the alpha squat down onto his face, burying his vision in her black-scaled thighs as her cloaca descended onto his mouth. He ran his tongue along her moist reptilian hole as predatory cries rang out around him; the other females attacked; he could feel his genitals raked across the sharp teeth and hot tongues of the raptor women as they fought to take his meat into their mouths. Occasionally, the mouths would disappear momentarily and be replaced by the familiar cloacal sensation as the feral creatures took turns riding him. All the while his tongue thrust in and out of the beast above him; probing her hot juicy opening mercilessly. She ground onto his face violently before issuing a load orgasmic roar which sent the other females running for the shadows. The beast stood, stalking now towards his abandoned cock. Kneeling down, she gingerly licked off the fluids left by the other females before taking the whole of his member within her fanged mouth. Opening her jaw widely, she took Deadpool’s cock deep within her throat, the warm wetness of her oral cavity sliding down his shaft as she gave him a blowjob unlike any he’d experienced before. As the head of his penis rubbed against the ribbed interior of her seemingly gag-reflex-less throat, she sent a long reptilian tough out to wrap around and fondle his testicles. Overcome by the sensations, his hips began to move on their own as they thrust deeper into the alpha raptor-woman’s throat. He felt a build-up of pressure as his cock twitched within her; begging for release. He found himself grunting uncontrollably as the sensation filled him.

“Fuuuuuuuck!!!!!!” he shouted finally as he prepared to nut deep within the monster woman’s throat. In that instant; her razor sharp teeth clamped down.

And that’s how you end a fanfiction baby.

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I think my most memorable lines were written around the time I had come out to my family and ended up beaten and homeless. I'll have to dig through my documents when I get home to find them, though. 

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My latest fanfiction includes a scene where Gonzo (from the muppets)'s genitals are described as his "blue man group."

Crowning achievement right there.

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Someone posted this thread and i always meant to post in it.

Some background, my character is a doctor who used to date his patient. He probably shouldnt be treating her (the one that got away)but hes the only one she trusts. Her husband hates him and whenever they meet up, they end up fighting despite being classy upscale doctor and lawyer...all that class goes out the window when theyre together. 

I just love the dialogue. So the woman admits to the doctor she cant have sex with her husband because of reasons.

So her husband really doesnt like the doctor dude dictating their sex life..sees him dining alone in a fancy restaurant and decides to sit down and confront him. They begin to fight and this dialogue is my favorite.

Lawyer: Its not my concern whether or not your fucking your wife.

Doctor: Trust me, at least someone's wife is getting fucked.

Lawyer: Only because you stopped trying to fuck mine.

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On 1/24/2018 at 7:19 PM, Bouvre said:

Writing is a degrading and frustrating process, but sometimes you come out of that degradation and frustration with that One Good Sentence or that One Good Moment.

 

I don't agree with this at all. To me, writing on my word processor is the place where I am most expressive, confident, vibrant, and focused. No matter how many words I write for the day, even 2,000 or more, there's always more words, sentences, and paragraphs to be expressed. 

Writing is an accumulation of content and words, a collection of various literary components each day, over long amounts of time, privately and quietly.

To me, writing is a mixture of both the building of and the exploration of, new literary territory and land.

The words kind of just flow from my keyboard to the page, nothing frustrating or degrading about it. It's a lot less degrading than Twitter and TV, where someone's always lying to your face and putting you down on the other side of the screen, writing is way more rewarding than TV and social media, especially if you're focusing on the writing process the right way. I always write alone, never around other people, and where I might show my art to everyone, I don't show my writing to anyone, I feel less of a need or compulsion to show off when I write than when I draw. Exceptions being fiction, which I do show to some people.

Edited by J.M. Matthews
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I have a new reader, potentially.

Went to the local comic book shop and started begging the patrons to read my works.

I got one to look at the link, so there's that.

Anyways, I haven't written in a hot minute up in here.

All of my creative energy is going towards legos right now.

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On 3/19/2018 at 4:30 PM, J.M. Matthews said:

I don't agree with this at all.

Writing is a different experience for all of us. Still, if you're a writer, it's often a necessary impulse, or after all the degradation and frustration you finally make something you like. 
Regardless, it gets done, and I'm glad the process comes effortlessly for you.

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Thanks Bouvre. I don't know if it's effortless, I'd say it's more like the compulsion to work on my writing is just constantly there. I have what is known as hypergraphia, which means you are driven by an overwhelming compulsion to write.

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From the just-started episode 8 of Kinky Kunoichi:

Spoiler

He still wore his week-old T-shirt, though his unzipped black jacket covered up any visible pit-stains, and he put on a pair of denim jeans over his equally old boxers. Whether it was to look only a tad more civil for his landlord or to avoid walking around in his underwear following this inevitable eviction was unclear.

 

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Oh right, this thread. I forgot about posting again. 

Here's something I wrote shortly after being disowned by my abusive family. I was 19 when I wrote this:

 

"I am no victim of this fate. The failures of my flesh and blood shall not hold me down. Their shackles will be shattered and hoisted high above my head, made to show testament to my own will. I will never be broken by the likes of you."

And

"Not all heroes make it to the end. But no hero am I. 

God knows I want to end this pathetic excuse I call my existence. Morbid reality is all that keeps me going, but merely as a drudge, shackled to my own lack of inner audacity. Tell me, warrior, what is most important: your shield or your sword? Must we stand tall, holding out against the tide of folly we call "life," with nothing to defend us but our own fortitude? Or should we focus on the attack and strike at fate with our sword of conviction and pray we can give it a run for its money? I think you must not only have both, but be well-rounded, knowing when to use what. Sometimes it takes more than one key to unlock a door.

Such a lovely, swirling, torrent of emotional torment that slumbers within me. I will die young, I just pray, to a god I do not even believe in, that I will not have wasted my time here. Let it be on a high note, one to be remembered well, even if only by a precious few, rather than a disgusting and vile sink that will leave my memory marred with a sharp disdain. Vanity even at Death's door, it seems. 

To lose something from the actions of others is a tragedy, but to make the move yourself is truly devastating. Even when a sin is rebuked by a deed of virtue, it cannot ever truly undo what was done."

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