My Sex Story What I Wrote

A few years ago, I belonged to a writers' workshop where we were challenged to write a story that was badly written, as though by an amateur, yet still holds the reader's interest.

It's likely that other writers will appreciate it more than non-writers since the former should recognise all of the deliberate errors.

*

I was in front of her house fixing my bike when she came into the garden. She looked ever so pretty in her clothes. She was a woman with red hair on her head and she had a pretty face and a matching body to go with it.

She leaned forwards over her fence while she licked her lips. "Hi" she said. "Would you like me to give you a pump?"

I gave my tyre a squeeze. "No, thanks. It's already hard."

"Not quite what I had in mind, but OK, suit yourself. I'm Tufty. How are you, big boy?"

I told her how well I was and asked after her healthwise.

When we'd finished discussing how well we both was, I eyed her upwards and downwards. Tufty had a tan top on. When I say 'tan top' I refer to her t-shirt not her skin. The top she wore was a tan colour. That is not to say she was not tanned; in fact she had a fine tan. It would be more correct to say she had a tan top on top of her tan. Also her bosom was only partly tanned. She had white bits and I remember those well.

On both feet she wore sandley things with a strap that fastened over her toes and shorts with long legs that disappeared inside them.

One of her eyes winked. "I see you admiring my flip flops."

"Mmm, very much. They're nice."

"I bought them from Woolies. Got them cheap in last year's Summer sale."

I laughed. "There you go, changing the subject."

She looked confused and there was silence as we both tried to think of something to say. "It's hot," I said at the end of the silence.

"Yes," she agreed. "Would you like to come in out of the sun?"

I nodded my head up and down. "Indoors?"

She turned and I followed. As she walked in front of me I studied her rear end. Her shorts were griped tight all around her bottom and inside, both of her two buttocks was going up and down like a pair of pistons. It looked great and I got very excited.

In her front room she asked, "Would you like a coke ... or what?"

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like the what."

She smiled as I think she got my joke. "Good. Shall we go to my bedroom then?"

"Please."

"Wait here then while I slip into something more comfortable."

A few minutes later she returned. I looked at her and she looked at me. I was very excited at the site of her pretty body. She was naked, except for a light coloured, black negligee which covered her body.

"You wont me, don't you," she asked, while she looked me up and down with her eyes.

I was so excited, I was speechless. "Yes, I do want you. Ever since I first saw you half an hour ago, I've always wanted you. I am excited."

Without her asking me to, I undressed by taking off all my clothes. As I dropped my pants onto the carpet on her floor, she noticed I was naked.

Her mouth formed upwards into a smile. "You want me, don't you?" she whispered.

"How did you guess?"

She laughed quietly. "I guessed."

Suddenly, I realised how she guessed. My thingie was sticking up in the air.

"Do you want to undress me?" she whispered.

My eyebrows frowned. "Why?" I asked. "Don't you know how to undress yourself?"

She glared at me as though I was thick. "Tell me, are you deliberately perverse?"

She was obviously using hard-to-understand words to make me look stupid, but I know lots of them.

"I can be -- if perverse is what you want." I winked at her.

She frowned, no doubt disappointed because I knew what it was she talked about.

She said a very naughty word and started to take off her negligee. When she finished, she was naked -- all over her body. As I have already said earlier, she had a pretty body. Each of both of her breasts had nipples on them. I wanted them.

"You want them, don't you?" she whispered.

"I do want them," I whispered. "I am excited."

"I can see your excited," she whispered.

I didn't know what to say. I'd run right out of words what I could say.

She eyed me and licked her lips with her tongue. "I like what I see."

"I like that," I replied. "I want you like what you want me, as well." I knew that my clever words would sweep her from her feet.

"Take me," she whispered.

I groaned. I'd only just got undressed and she wanted to go out. Even so, I wanted to please her. "Ok," I said. "Take you where?"

"To my bedroom of course."

"Is it upstairs?"

I then began to wonder why this woman swore as mush as she did.

I took her upstairs as I followed her up to the top of the stairs, where there was a landing. Her bedroom was inside one of the doors, which was on the landing. I cannot remember which one it was, although I think it was the second. Inside her bedroom was a bed and a window with a scene outside.

She lied back on her back on this bed.

"I love your flip flops, Tufty. Can I hold them?"

"Oh, very well, although you seem obsessed with them. Do you have a foot fetish?"

"No, not now, but I used too until Mum bought some ointment from the chemist."

Tufty groaned. I hadn't even started with the fourplay and already she was groaning. Wow, I'm such a stud.

"I don't want to be pregnant," she told me.

"Nor me."

"Well ... have you taken precautions?" she whispered.

"Yes, thank you," I replied.

"What?"

I thought it a silly time to make small talk, but I shrugged both shoulders and told her anyway. "I locked my bike by chaining it with a chain. I threaded the chains through the spokes and runned it around the lamp post in the street." I paused. "Thank you for enquiring," I added.

She swore once more, again. This woman had a fowl mouth.

"What I meant," she said, "is do you have a condom?"

"No, I share a flat with my mother."

She sighed -- not my mother, but the woman. "You don't understand me, do you?"

"Yes, you are right. I don't understand you."

"Never mind," she whispered. "Maybe oral sex would be safer."

I was about to complain that there's little fun talking about sex, when she pulled me onto the bed and ... you know. That! She didn't even ask permission.

She started of by taking my thingie into her mouth. It grewed much bigger than it was and the end got wet. The wet stuff fell on her bed sheet, but I was in luck as she didn't notice. She had her both eyes closed as she licked my thingie so I got away with it. While she sucked, I held onto her flip flops and squeezed them. They was nice and her nipples got larger.

All of this was nice, but soon things got betterer when she opened her legs so I could put my willy in her pussy. It went in and out many times until we both cummed. Wow, that was good. It was good, so good we did it again ... and again ... and again. I lost count by the time we got to nine times.

Afterwards, when it was all over and we had finished what we both wanted to do, we laid side by side together on the bed while she smoked and I didn't.

"Mmm, Bob, you remind me of Michael Angelo's David."

"Oh yeah? The Angelos? I think I know them ... they live at 47, don't they? Except, I thought his name was Tony."

"No," she snarled. "The statue ... Florence, from memory. If not, it's somewhere in Italy."

"He's not local then?"

"No, you pillock"

"Florence?" I scratched my head with my hand. "She'd be Tony's mother -- right?"

Tufty went into a silk and refused to talk.

I pulled my right sock onto my foot. "Is he as good as me ... at sex?"

"Who?"

"Tony."

"Fuckinell, Bob. Are you stupid?"

I was surprised she kept changing the subject. Once more, again, she'd changed the topic of the subject yet more times, but I decided to be polite and answer anyway.

Before I was able to reply with my words, for some unknown reason what I don't know, she told me she couldn't take any more and asked me to leave, although it wasn't the exact words she used. I found myself outside her house without my clothes. My clothes were inside.

I walked home because the key to my bicycle lock was in my trouser pocket. I was naked, but I didn't care. I'm proud of my body. All the women tell me I have the body of a pollo. I know that's a compliment, although I just wish I knew what a pollo is.

Huh, women! One second they're all over me, gurgling and gushing and the next I'm walking home naked. You can't live without them, but you can live ... No, that's wrong. You can't ... sheesh, how does it go?