Fog, Fire and Food - June's Summer Story Challenge
 

Hi all you Pixie's writers .... We thought it might be fun to have a story challenge for each month Summer 2004.

Write your story in whatever format you like, and attach it to this thread ... feel free to use this thread to also comment on a story in the challenge that you particularly like, etc. You know that as writers we love to hear feedback, so make the time to give some feedback to your fellow writers as well!!! :)

Here's June's challenge:

Your story must occur (at least in part) at a public eating establishment (anything from coffee house to hot dog vendor to 4 star restaurant), you must use at least 5 different water words (ie, perspiration - glacier, etc.) and 5 different heat words (ie, steamy to volcanic) (if used as a water word can't be counted again as a heat word or vice versa). And finally, you can write as many stories as you would like to enter.

I'm looking forward to what everyone comes up with!!! :)

Blazing Balmy Beach Day.....
 

It was one of those days at the beach, sun was blazing, but the breeze off the ocean was balmy and cooling. The waves were crashing in at regular intervals and as usual I was hypnotized by the sight and sound.

Frequently I had the time to contemplate the joy of owning a small concession stand right on the beach, working there for 6 fairly busy months each year and then able to kick back and enjoy the winter months (pinching pennies all the way to make my 6 months worth of earnings last 12 months worth of need). :)

But life does not get much better than being able to make a living while watching the swells of ocean water and ebb of the tide. It was early and also evident that today was going to be a "scorcher". Just as the thought went through my head, my field of vision was interrupted by fast forward movement, coming at the stand at an alarming rate!

Dazzled by the rugged goodlooks of the 30 something man standing directly in front of me, I calmed the racing of my heart while asking what I could get for him. He smiled, turning up the heat of his presence. I smiled back. He asked for a cold drink and a bag of chips, I handed them to him and rang up his total. Handing me a $10, he told me to keep the change and asked if it would be ok for him to stay and chat for a few minutes. I nodded. (What, do I look like a fool to you .... ummm, let's forget I asked that question ... afraid of what some of you might say!!! LOL)

We talked, we laughed, we silently enjoyed the scenery and then we chatted a bit more. Something really enjoyable about sharing a day of sunshine and sea with another person. The more time we spent together talking, the less I noticed his looks and the more I just enjoyed his company. I stopped worrying about if he paid for the drink he had in his hand or not. There were lots of interruptions as children and various adults came to buy something to eat or drink while they enjoyed their time away from the cares of the "real" world.

Thomas chatted when no one was there, made small talk with people who seemed to want to talk for a few minutes while they waited for me to get what they ordered, in general he was almost becoming a selling point for people to come back (some of them several times). Heck, I would have come back and spent money for the opportunity to talk with him a bit more too!

Still there as the crowds thinned and began to leave the sand, waiting to be washed clear of all traces of human inhabitants. This was my favorite part of every working day, when the people were all gone and I could enjoy the beach on my own. Only this time, I had a gorgeous man to be with while the sun settled and sank into the horizon. I was hesitant to lock down my stand, fearful that Thomas would take it as a sign for him to leave, but there was no point in leaving it open when it was just the 2 of us left.

Helping me close up shop, he then leaned in, I felt dizzy with the fire that rose to that point on my neck where I felt his breath. A slow descent into the furnace of building passions that raged as his lips finally touched mine. He played lightly with my bottom lip and then I felt the slow razoring of the edge of his teeth lightly skittering across my lip. The butterflies in my stomach turned into seagulls as they swooped and rose. Great kisser! He pulled back slowly, touched my face gently and looked deep into my eyes. Smiling playfully he asked if he could walk me to my car. I nodded, words were not in my "vocabulary" at that moment.

That day started a pattern for the weeks that followed, whenever Thomas had a free day, he would spend it at the beach sitting next to my stand. We laughed and talked and got closer with each visit.

Finally I invited him to have dinner with me, knew it was time cause I couldn't wait another day to feel him pressed tight into me, feel his pulse racing with mine, know the joy of his touch against skin uncluttered with clothing. Desperately needed the feel of him near me for long drawn out minutes, maybe hours ... hopefully something lasting and good for us both.

That night was fire and ice, rain and storm, pride and passion and finally calm and sweet, he touched me, he kissed me, he delighted all my senses and I did my best to sear my heart to him with every ounce of imagination and lust I could muster. We made sweet joyous love, and then we fucked each other's brains out. That was our beginning.

(OK, I know it was more purple prose and less passion than most of my stories, but I'm in more of a romantic and less of passionate mood these days) Hope someone enjoys it anyway.

i enjoyed it, fzzy. sex can be like poetry and rhythm just as much as it can resemble discordant grunts and groans. i thought it was very sexy (and well written, too!)

wow very sexy! i loved it am still working somthing out myself but felt like this needed to be bumped as they say

thanks wyndhy and boilergirl1 .... looking forward to some more stories being submitted in this challenge!

Nice fzzy. Letting our imagination create a love scene rather than reading a description of one is nice. Thanks.
You writing style is pleasurable to read: good variation of sentence structure and length, not too many adjectives like many people use, myself included, a nice flow in general.

Thanks LarryL - it was a bit of a different tale from me as far as this site goes, but I was trying to write for the "challenge" .... still hoping that some others will join the challenge for this month ... But also know that this is often a very busy time for people and writing a story isn't always done without a bit of thought and energy. :)

I've got 2 paragraphs but the real world won't let me finish it!!!!

LOL Lil .... the real world can be a real pain sometimes!!! :)

I had realy wanted to come up with something also, I love to write but I've never posted any stories on Pixies in the entire 3 years I've been here. So my question is, What's July's challenge?! Lol....and Lilith I agree about the real world (I've had 3 hours sleep)

The interior of Ol' Smokey was living up to it's name tonight. It was dim inside, a faint mist of smoke from cigarettes and the fire in the open barbeque pit hung suspended in the still air. The bar at the far right corner of the room held the usuals; Bill the lush, Don the carpenter, Norris whom no one knew what he did for a living but he wasn't chuck, no matter what he said.

The tables to the right were pushed back already, though it was too soon for the band to begin. Business had been slow that day, I could tell from the lack of trash on the floor. Sally the waitress greeted me with a smile, and Ben the bartender waved from across the room behind the bar. I sat down at one of the tables and asked Sally for a daquiri and the usual.

She brought me a barbeque beef sandwhich, a coke, and my drink, chatted for a moment, and left for her other customers. It was a day like any other Tuesday in Ol' Smokey's. It wasn't the kind of place you'd expect to find me. A businesswoman dressed in an impeccable suit of seafoam green. My long hair was tightly wrapped on my head in a very proper, although attractive, twist. Those looking at me would consider me to be out of my class, a jarring note of tidiness and priss in a place of serene uncaring decadence. I am a regular here, too, though.

Dylin, the owner, in one of his rare appearances, wandered over to my table. "We've a new band tonight," he told me, smug in his assumption I would want to know. I raised an eyebrow at him and said nothing. Finally, he bragged about his band and wandered off.

I sat and watched the patrons come and go, and the new band arrived. They began their set, and something unusual happened. The seats were full, except for the one across from me. A man came in alone, then, seeing no open seats, came and sat across from me. He smiled at me and turned to watch the band. I was a little startled for several reasons. First, no one had ever sat with me here before. Most people in general seemed to find me cold and distant, many found me intimidating. It has always baffled me, but I accept it. He seemed entirely indifferent to me. Men had always either tried to come on to me, or been afraid of me.

I found myself looking at him often throughout the night. He was average looking. Nothing special there, no great good looks, no extraordinary air of confidence. Just the fact that he was pleasant, unafraid, not particularly interested in me. I left once for the restroom, and when I returned, he nodded and welcomed me back with a smile, before returning his attention to the band.

The band began to wind down, and the room thinned out. Soon the bar would close, and I would go home to my apartment in the big city and sleep in late. And until next friday, my life would be the same again, mundane, typical, unspecial. My boss would leer at me, men at the construction site would leer at me. More of the same.

I sighed, and he looked over at me, a slight expression of curiousity on his face, the first of the night outside of a smile. "Okay, miss?" he asked me.

Looking at him, I realized that I wondered how I could have thought he looked normal or unremarkable. He seemed so calm, so unruffled. And, now you think that I must have been drinking and seeing him through booze glazed eyes, but a daquiri does not a drunkard make, my friend. He had grown on me over the last few hours, and I found myself handing out my card to him after a few moment's conversation.

He walked me to my car, and helped me in with a touch on my elbow. The damp air of the night made his touch cool against my sweaty skin, and goosebumps rose and slipped up along my arm. Still without a single leer, he closed the door behind me, and wished me a pleasant night. About to pull away, I stopped, and took the chance. "Would you like to have a coffee? There's an all-night diner just down the road."

He agreed and followed me down to the diner. We sat and talked, the hours slipping away. He was a complete gentleman, much to my chagrin. We parted ways, and I went home. My apartment was so cold and dismal when I arrived, as it had never seemed before. Something in my life had altered, just like that.

I unzipped my skirt and let it fall, leaving it to pool around my feet. I slipped off my stockings, and let the garter join the growing pile at my feet. I slipped off my shirt and then the silken undershirt, feeling it slide across my nipples. I had gone without a bra today, a delicious little indulgence covered by my business suit jacket. I wondered if he had noticed when I'd taken the jacket off at the bar, and my nipples had become erect from watching him.

I turned the shower on, feeling the cascading waterfall of the spray slip down me. I thought of the stranger I'd met tonight, and imagined his hands on my breasts as rivulets of water washed over me. I turned the showerhead to pulse, but that didn't even come near the sweet raging torrent between my legs as my body responded to my mind's vivid thoughts. The rising heat of the shower fueled the inferno of my desire as I ran my hands across my belly and down between my legs. I tilted my head back as I touched my clit, and imagined him breathing on my neck, nibbling with his molten mouth, working his lips down my body to my nipples. I rubbed my breast with one hand as the other massaged my clit with growing excitement.

I was nearly dizzy, imagining him inside me as my finger slipped inside me. I imagined his body against mine, and it drove me to a frenzy. Imagining his balls against my ass as he pounded into me. I began to go faster, my finger darting in and out. The steam of the shower, the sweltering heat of the cascading water, the feeling of my hand on my breast, the thought of the stranger inside me, all came together to bring me to a gutwrenching orgasm.

I stumbled out of the shower, dizzy from the intensity of my own thoughts. I slowly dried the clinging dampness from my skin, and went into the bedroom. In a daze, I drug through my drawer to the long forgotten dildo in the bottom. I laid down on the bed, tired, overwhelmed, vibrating with desire. My hair fanned out beneath me, its cold sodden tresses a contrast to the fiery heat between my legs.

Trembling slightly, I slipped the dildo inside myself. My head curved back as I imagined him pulling my hair back to kiss me hard while he pounded himself inside me.

A strange sound penetrated my sexual fervor. The phone was ringing. I nearly ignored it, but it had been so long since I had heard it ring, that I went to answer it. It was him. I blushed as I heard his voice.

"You left your purse at the restaurant, they know me, so they called me and asked me if I knew how to contact you. Would you like me to bring it over tomorrow?"

"No," I replied, suddenly bold. "Can you bring it now?"

Silence for a moment, before he said, "Well, where do you live?"

When I told him, he said it was less than 10 minutes away, and he would be happy to drop it off for me. I smiled, a sly, secret smile. Oh, you have no idea, my friend, I thought.

When he arrived, I opened the door in my robe. I invited him in, and he paused for a moment. He looked at me, as is seeing me clearly for the first time, and arched an eyebrow upwards. "Please come in," I repeated.

"If I come in right now, I won't be leaving anytime soon," he said. "And I won't be a gentleman."

I opened the door further and stepped back. Once more, I let my clothes fall to the floor. He stepped inside and shut the door. I looked at the rapidly growing bulge in his pants, and reached out brazenly to caress it. Reaching one arm around me, he pulled me close against him. Suddenly feverish in my desire, I pulled his shirt off, then began to unzip him. I pulled his dick out of his pants, and felt the dampness of precum on it. My breath quickened even further, and I began to pull his pants down. As I got them down to his feet, I couldn't help myself, there I was on my knees staring at the most beautiful dick I'd ever seen.

I reached out and took his balls in my hand. Pushing his dick up, I took one of his balls into my mouth, licking around it, memorizing its shape, it's size, its weight. Never one to be unfair, I gently suckled the other one, as well, curling my toungue around it. Then I slipped my mouth up the side of his dick, admiring the shape of it, the firm perfection of the tip, licking around the lip of it, gently at first, then firmly. I tasted his silky skin, licked the droplet of fresh precum off the top. Finally, eager and incredibly hungry for him, I sucked him into my mouth. Up and down, I sucked until he put his hands on the side of my head and helped.

"God, you're so good," he said, his voice husky and roughened by his arousal. He picked up the pace, and I followed suit with my finger in my pussy, me as eager as him. After what seemed like only seconds, but was far far longer, he gushed in my mouth, and I gently licked him clean of the part that drooled out of the corners of my mouth.

He picked me up, 130 pounds no issue for him, and took me over to the rug on the living room floor. He laid down beside me and touched me gently, his eyes gleaming in the soft light from the street lamp that glimmered in through the window. He trailed his hand down my belly to the mound of my pussy, watching me as I gasped at his gentle exploration of my clit. With a slight grin, he turned me onto my side, and reached over to the table where I had put some astroglide before he got there. He didn't remark on my complete lack of sublty, he simply poured some on his beautiful dick, and slipped it up and down along my butt.

Gently, he started to press into me, going so agonizingly, so gently slow. He pressed his tip inside me, and stopped at my pleasured gasp. "You like that?" he asked. "Yes," I could barely whisper, "Oh god, that feels so good." With a sweet, sexy chuckle, he slipped in further. Unable to resist, I began to move against him, wanting him deeper inside me. He moved deeper... deeper... deeper, and I throbbed with delight. At last, I felt him bury himself completely inside me, and reached down to touch my clit again. He caught my hand, stopping me. "Oh no, that's my pleasure," he murmured in my ear. A moan escaped me as he drove me closer to the brink of climax. The feeling of his fingers flicking across my clit while his dick drove into me excited me beyond words, and I found my legs trembling from the stimulation.

He began to go faster, until the pent up momentum finally caught up to me, and I orgasmed with a spasm that rippled through my whole body. He pulled me closer against him and released into my ass, a slight moan escaping him as well.

We laid together a little while longer, letting him slip gently out, letting my breathing return to normal. Comfortable together, we simply laid there. Gently, he stood up, and helped me to my feet. I led him to the bathroom, where we cleaned each other up, a sexy, sweet gesture. We headed into my bedroom and tumbled together into the bed.

When I awakened the next day, he was gone. A note rested on his pillow, saying only, "We'll do this again, sweet one." And we did. Many times. And we do. Often. :)

Hehe, guess I should go back to lurking. Sorry, first writing of this nature for me, ever. :o

sometimes the lack of replies is all about how GOOD you told the story, hands get too busy to type! Great story .... hope you think about writing more for Pixies to enjoy .... it wasn't just a good erotic story, but a great story in and of itself. Welcome to the land of non-lurking sweetlady! :)