How Not To Write a Sex Story: Ch. I

It’s going to start pretty slowly, because I’m focusing more on story than sex. Also, if you’re offended by sex, you should probably not be on a sex site.

Criticism is accepted. Just don’t be an asshole about it.
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CHAPTER I: Inspiration

“She lowered herself onto her lover’s throbbing member, her womanhood aching with warm desire and anticipation. She gazed steadily into his eyes as he entered her, and whispered the words she knew he wanted to hear: ‘Fuck me, baby.'”

“Christ, man,” My roommate said, with a slight chuckle. “This is supposed to be porn, not an Ayn Rand novel. People don’t want all that flowery wording.”

This was the third time he’d said those exact words. I mouthed the next line as he said it. “It’s supposed to be fucking, not love.”

I cringed as he moved the cursor over to the upper left of my screen and clicked the small red “x”, deleting my work forever. “Fuck `you, Chris.” I seethed as I attempted to re-open Word. “Fuck you hard.”

“See, buddy? That’s how `you need to write.”
—
Chris and I had been living together for about three years now. We had almost nothing in common, except for our love of writing. The only reason I hadn’t killed him off months ago is because he pays for half of the rent for our studio apartment.

He went to Rutger’s, and was trying to get a degree in Comparative Lit, while I dumped money into the black hole that was my writing career. Our apartment had become a jungle of unfinished novels and essays. He claimed that the mess was the reason he couldn’t bring any girls to our place. I said that it wasn’t the mess, it was his terribly disfigured face that sent the girls running.

Despite all the grief I gave him, Chris was actually a good looking guy. He was about six feet of tanned muscle, with a tangle of blonde hair that looked as if he had just tumbled from bed. A strong chin and dark blue eyes made him the talk of the town. He had no trouble getting the girls.

I, on the other hand, was more of a chick repellant. It wasn’t my physique that turned them off. I was, at that time, a pale and un-muscled 190 pounds. My height was an inch under my roommate’s, and I had a pretty similar facial structure. What caused me to fail so miserably in the romance department was my inability to talk to people without looking like a complete geek. I guess girls aren’t turned on by in-depth analysis of Bladerunner.
—

“What do YOU think I should say, then?”

He thought for a moment before speaking. “How about this: ‘She positioned herself over his cock and thrust down quickly, impaling herself on it. She was so wet, she could feel her pussy juices running down the side of her leg. “Fuck your slut! Fuck her hard!” She screamed, as the first orgasm rushed over her.'” He looked over his product and was rather pleased.

“It’s shit.” Shaking my head, I put my finger on the backspace button. “‘Pussy juices’? Really? ‘Impaling herself on it’? Every porn writer from here to Beijing is typing those exact words right now.”
—
I suppose I should explain why Chris and I were arguing over the finer details of writing sex scenes. A few weeks ago, I was going through my computer history to find an old research site I had been using, when I came across a strange link. It seemed that, the previous day, someone had accessed a sex site. I opened the page and laughed. It was a sex story. A brief scan told me that it was about a cheerleader getting raped by two large janitors. I could tell from the syntax that it was probably written by a fourteen year old who’d decided to try his hand at the craft. The many misplaced modifiers, incorrect uses of contractions, and other grammatical errors began to grate against my nerves. The story had over ten thousand likes! Ten thousand people had looked at the piece of trash and decided that it was worthy of a positive review.

I went to go down-vote the work, when I noticed a small in-site add. “Calling All Writers! Story Contest: Two-Hundred Dollars to the Best Porn Writer”. I quickly jotted down the site address so I could visit it again. I needed that two-hundred bucks.

That’s when I heard Chris’ irritating laugh fill the room. Apparently he found my interest in the porn story hilarious. When I told him that I was going to enter the contest, he just shook his head. “I’ve seen your writing, bro. You’re gonna need some help.”

—

Chris looked like he was about to defend himself, when he had an idea. “I know what you need. Some inspiration.”

An hour later we were standing outside of some sort of club. Chris shoved me inside, yelling over the noise, “No coming out until you’ve gotten some pussy!”

I made my way to the bar. I knew I did my best when I was a little buzzed. I spent most of my time hitting on the bar-tender, though we both knew it would go no where. About four beers in, I felt a slight tap on my shoulder. I small Asian girl stood at my side. She was beautiful. Her hair hung to her shoulders, held back from her face by some sort of clip. She had a small mouth with full lips, and a gorgeous figure. Her Dr. Who t-shirt left little to imagination, as it was dripping wet and pulled tautly against her upper body. Her nipples rose sharply against the fabric. Her short jean skirt also did little to protect her from my gaze. I thought I could see her panties peaking out from under it.

“…Wearing any, that is!” She finished. I had completely zoned out while she’d been talking.

“Wh-” I began.

“I said that I’m not wearing any panties!”

What the fuck? I was both horribly turned on and horribly confused. Did a smoking hot girl just come up to me randomly and tell me she wasn’t wearing any panties?

“Oh… Um, that’s hot.” I managed to mumble. She grabbed my hand and dragged me over to her table, where two other people were waiting. One was a young, black man. The second, who seemed very distracted, looked like a high-schooler. A female of Hispanic descent.

“This is Robert, and my friend Natty,” The Asian girl yelled. She had a very sexy voice, and my cock began to grow and strain against my pants. “My name is Tracy!”

Natty moaned loudly and closed her eyes. “Is she-” Tracy cut me off again, before I could finish my inquiry.

“I think Robert in fingering her right now. Right, Robby?”

The young man nodded his head, then bent close to Natty’s ear and whispered something into it.

“So, what’s your name?” Tracy asked me as she pushed me into a seat.

“Danny…” To be honest, I was kind of worried. Who the hell were these people? Why did Tracy bring me over here?

Tracy sat down on my lap, grinding her crotch on my bulge. She hadn’t lied; she definitely wasn’t wearing panties. I could feel moisture seep through my jeans.

Natty let out another whimper from across the table. I could barely hear it over the pulsing of the music, but the smirk on Robert’s face told me that it happened, and that he was proud of his handiwork.

“Tracy, this is really hot and all, but do you think we could move it back to Todd’s place?” Robert said. I hadn’t seen him look at Natty the entire time.

Tracy heard Robert, but looked put out by the suggestion. “I guess… But I really wanted to try it here…”

“I don’t think that’s legal, hun.” He replied. “We wouldn’t want to get caught.”

I couldn’t take it any longer. “WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON?!” I pushed Tracy off of my lap and stood up, slamming my hands down on the table.

I looked into each of their faces, glaring. Natty had been shaken out of her stupor, and looked startled. Robert returned my glare with equal intensity. Tracy looked like she was about to cry. God, she looked sexy. Her lower lip stuck out in a pout, an expression that made her look so very innocent.

“I thought you were cute,” she sobbed, a small pool of tears coalescing in her eyes. “I just wanted you to meet my friends, and then maybe we could have some fun.”

I was shocked. She thought that I was cute? This goddess in a wet shirt wanted to have fun with me?

A chair crashed to the ground as Robert stood. “Yeah, asshole. Thanks for ruining our night.”

“Look, man,” I started to feel guilty, though I was still really lost. “I just want to know what’s going on here. I’ll just go back to the bar. Have fun with… Whatever it is you guys are planning.”

“No way, ass-wipe. You aren’t going now.”

His voice gave me a pause.

“This beautiful girl wants your lame ass, and she’s gonna get what she wants. You hear me?”

This time, I turned around. “What?”

He took a step around the table and put his face inches from my own. He was six-foot-three, at very least, and his whole torso rippled with strength. “You heard me. You’re coming with us.” His hand came down on the back of my neck and began to pull me across the bar. The crowd parted before Robert’s menacing form. Even the bouncer’s ignored him as he pulled me outside.

“Get in the fucking car.” He said, pointing to what looked like a Jaguar. A glance back showed me that the girls were close behind. Natty had her arm around the much shorter Tracy, who still seemed to be crying over my outburst.

I turned back to face Robert. “No. I’m going back to the bar and calling the cops.”

It wasn’t the best thing to say. The next thing I felt was my head hitting the side of the Jaguar. That was it.

—

I spent the next five hours dreaming. The dream began with me, standing in a forest. A light green glow covered everything in the clearing I occupied. The trees and rocks, the grass and leaves, and the body of a naked girl. A naked girl? In the forest? Even in my dreams, I had trouble believing that a girl would be anywhere near me while unclothed. The dream girl was lying on her back, with her legs splayed out and her hand gently rubbing her genitalia. She looked familiar. Her skin was tanned, like she spent a large portion of her time in the sun. Her head was covered int thick, dark curls that matched those resting above her mound. She moaned softly, then plunged four fingers into herself. Her moans turned to shouts of ecstasy as she fucked herself with her hand. I felt a breeze run across my own skin. I looked down, and found myself nude. My cock stood alert, aching with need and longing. I knew it was a dream, because I felt myself move closer to the girl, something I would not dare do had this been real.

She opened her eyes and turned her head towards me, her hand still buried in her cunt. She removed it and turned over, crawling towards me on her hands and knees, like a cat stalking its prey. When she was but a foot away, she turned, raising her ass into the air. It looked firm and beautiful. Bending slightly, I caressed it, then moved my hands to her hips. With one strong tug, I pulled her to myself, driving my cock into her. She screamed with a mixture of pain and elation as my head burst through her hymen. I fucked her roughly, like a dog would fuck his bitch. The walls of her pussy gripped my cock, milking it, sheathing it. She was so very tight. “I’m coming!” I yelped, pulling out of her and unloaded my seed onto her ass.

She shivered and collapsed, shaking with an orgasm of her own. I could see my cum drip down her ass and towards her pussy. It was almost enough to get me hard again…

—

When I came to, I was in a dimly lit room. It was sparsely furnished, but elegantly so. I was laying on a green love seat. To my right was a small end table, and directly across the room was a faded green door.

I was almost to find myself still clothed. I’m not sure what I had expected, after being abducted by the odd trio from the club. The had all acted strange, like they were tourists just visiting Earth. Maybe they were Daleks? I thought to myself, in a moment of madness. Had the Daleks taken human form?

Of course, that wasn’t the case. The truth, I would soon find, was much stranger.

A knock at the door shook me from my pondering. I looked around the room for something to use as a weapon, in case they were a cult or something that had decided to kill me. It seemed as plausible as anything else.

Finding nothing, I grabbed a cushion from the couch and held it parallel to the door. I’m pretty sure John McClane used something like that to stop a bullet in Die Hard, right?

The door opened to reveal Tracy, carrying a glass of water. “Hi.” She murmured quietly, not meeting my eyes. She had changed into what looked like a leotard of some sort. It was made of skin-tight fabric, with long sleeves but no legs. The bottom cradled her crotch like a pair of panties. I could see a line on her mound where the cloth had been pushed up between her labia.

She must have noticed my gaze, because she flushed slightly. “Here, I brought you some water.” She walked towards me gracefully, each movement highlighting another piece of her anatomy. When she bent to hand me the water, I was greeted with a fantastic view of her cleavage. She was gifted in that region, to be sure; she certainly did not follow the usual stereotype for Asian girls.

She straightened quickly and began to glide towards the door. Her hand hesitated at the handle. “Todd wants to see you. He’ll be in shortly.”

With that, she twisted the handle and walked out. I didn’t even try to reopen the door. I could hear the tumblers click as it locked.

Even though I should have been angry, or scared, I could feel my penis start to swell again. It was like that girl had some sort of magical effect on me. I found myself stroking my piece through my jeans. I knew I should stop, but I was amazingly horny after the encounter with Tracy. I could imagine her one her knees in front of me, her innocent eyes meeting mine as she took my cock into her mouth. Her lips were perfect for that, too.

I was just about to pull out my member and relieve some stress when I heard another rap at the door. It swung open, and a large man stepped in briskly. He was about four inches taller than me, and looked to be in his late twenties. His hair was dark and cropped close to his scalp. He was too handsome to be in the army, but still had a commanding presence.

“You’re the one Tracy claimed?” He sounded surprised. “Stand up.”

I did as I was told, without even thinking. He looked me up and down, and when he as done, he snorted. “I will never understand her. A city full of fine specimens and she chooses the scrawniest whelp of them all.”

“Sir,” I had no idea why I called him that. It felt right, though. “I don’t exactly know what’s going on.”

He took a step closer, than another. In two strides, he had covered the ten feet that had separated us. “According to Robert, you refused Tracy’s claiming, so he had to take you by force. Is this true?”

“Uh, yeah,” I struggled to find words. It felt as if he was blocking my thoughts with his presence. “I mean, yes, sir. She just came up to me and told me that she wasn’t wearing any, um, underwear, and then she took me to her table.”

“Is that all?”

I tried to find my place again. “No. Robert and… Natty were there, and Robert was- you know, touching her-“

He gave a short, barking laugh. “You mean fingering her?”

His directness left me momentarily speechless, but I had to resume my train of thought before it was completely derailed. “Fingering her? Yeah, that’s what Tracy had said. That he was fingering her. And then Tracy sat me down, but I had no clue what was going on, so I stood up and tried to leave.”

The man bent down and picked up my glass of water. I hadn’t touched it since Tracy had been in. “Have a seat, son.” I did as he said, taking a spot on the ground. “On the couch.”

“Oh.”

When I was settled, he passed the glass to me. I muttered my thanks, but was drowned out by his booming voice. “Well, my name is Todd, and it’s my job to tell you what’s happening. It’s a short story, really, but one you’re gonna need to pay attention to. If you can do that, we’ll see about getting you home.” When he grinned, he looked a bit like a wolf. “If you don’t pay attention, I’ll probably have to break your arms, which would be very unpleasant for one of us.”

I could only nod. I knew that he could probably snap my bones like toothpicks, if the muscles that lined his arms were any indicator.

“You know the story of Mengele?” It was a rather odd question, but I nodded my head. Mengele was the Nazi doctor. They called him the Angel of Death. “Well, this has nothing to do with him. But every good tale has to have Nazis in it. This story starts way before World War II. It even goes before the Revolutionary war. This story starts in ancient Rome, back when world was still big. Alexander the Great’s army was passing through Rome. It was part of some small-scale campaign he was working on, or so everyone thought. He was going to travel through the countryside, showing of his troops, and eventually taking over what we now call Italy. What he was really doing was a bit different, though.

“Old Alex had always been a bit superstitious. Everybody thought he just had an obsession with Greece, but it was a bit more than that. He had an obsession with the Greek Gods, not the dingy old coastline. He thought the Greek Gods were real, but that they were just hiding. So he traced their path. Greece left a pretty big trail wherever it went. The last place anyone had really seen the old gods was in Rome.

“Of course, there were never any gods there. What he did find, though, was a young girl. A beautiful girl. The records say that she looked like a goddess, but acted like an animal. She seemed out of place among the tame folk. They named her Artemis. Alexander took a liking to Artemis, even though she was so strange. She was superstitious like him, always talking about the wild ones, spirits of the forests.

“Alexander took Artemis for his wife, but learned a week later that she was pregnant. He knew it was not his own doing, because she looked to be a few months in, rather than a week. That’s when she told him the truth: the child was not his. It’s father was a Wild One. Alexander did not believe her. He thought that she had slept with one of his men, and sentenced her to death on the next full moon.

“The night before her execution, she went into labor. She had her child in holding. It looked like a normal baby, except for its eyes. The eyes looked like those of a cat. The soldiers refused to get close to the child, thinking it was demon possessed. Turns out Artemis was telling the truth. It was the first known offspring of a Wild One.”

Todd looked at me expectantly.

“What?” I asked. “Is that it?”

He laughed, “You like the story so far?”

I couldn’t help but grin. “Yeah, of course I like the story. I’m a writer. It sounds like a great concept for a novel.”

Todd chuckled again, standing up. “I’m glad you like it so far. I need to take a break, but I’ll be back in to tell you the rest later.” He dusted off the seat of his pants and began to walk out.

“Wait,” I called, lifting myself from the sofa and stepping towards him. “You never told me why I’m here.”

Stepping out of the room, Todd smirked rather smugly. His hulking body cast a shadow that enveloped the entire length of my prison. That’s what it was, in the need. A prison. “I guess you’ll just have to wait to find out.”

I cursed and threw the glass of water at the door. It burst into a thousand pieces of crystalline shrapnel. “Fuck you! Let me the fuck out!”