Download the audio version of today’s dollop here
I slide my hand behind her head and bring my mouth down on hers in a hard, demanding kiss that stirs up a raw hunger. A kaleidoscope of emotions rip through me but the prime one is need. It spreads through me, not slowly, but like wildfire burning everything in sight. I feel the softness of her body pressing through the thin fabric of my shirt, the erotic slide of her tongue against mine, and desire escalates to a dangerous blaze. Her arms are flung around my neck and she purrs deep in her throat like a thoroughly contented kitten. Rock-hard, I feel her tug my shirt out of my trousers and slide her hands over my skin, clearly greedy to touch me. And I am equally greedy to touch her. My fingers now on her buttons, loosening them, giving me access to the smooth creamy skin revealed by the lace of her bra. My body craves hers. It is a visceral, physical need that drives all thought from my brain. But now … she stills, places her hands on my chest and draws her mouth away from mine. Sensing the change in her I stop myself from dragging her back.
“What’s wrong?”
“why are you describing everything we’re doing in great detail?”
“Damn, you noticed. I thought my passionate antics were so intense that you wouldn’t realise that I was commentating everything that was happening into a hidden digital recorder, so that I could transcribe it later for the blog. I knew that after all this love making, I was bound to be tired for most of the following day, so I figured that I could save myself some time by writing the blog there and then. But my cover has been blown.
“Well that’s the only thing that’s going to be blown tonight.”
“I think that joke was a bit obvious, if you don’t mind me saying.”
“Yes I bloody well do mind you saying, and stop trying to change the subject. How dare you! I can’t believe you were recording everything and commentating on it for your bloody blog.”
“Look, you don’t understand. It’s not easy writing a blog post everyday you know. I’m finding it hard to keep it up.”
“Well, it’s probably for the best we stopped then, isn’t it? You should maybe go to the doctors about that. They could give you some pills or something.”
“Oh come on, that was another really obvious joke.”
“I bet you’ll use them in your blog anyway though, won’t you? You’ll be so desperate for material that you’ll include it.”
“I won’t. I’ll have loads of jokes of my own. I won’t need to use your predictable erectile dysfunction gag.”
“Well, we’ll see. But if you do use my jokes then you better credit me. If you claim them as your own then I’ll leave a comment on your website, telling everyone about that weird fetish you have with the …”
“All right, all right, fine, if I’m really short of material and I resort to using your tacky penis joke then I promise to credit you.”
“Thank you. Oh, and just for the record: I did not purr like a thoroughly contented kitten. I had a bit of mucus lodged at the back of my throat I was trying to shift. Purrs like a thoroughly contented kitten indeed. You are weird.”
“That’s the kind of thing they write in these romantic novels.”
“Well, when you write up your blog post, I want you to tell them the truth, that I was merely clearing some mucus from the back of my throat.”
“I can’t write that. That would sound completely ridiculous. It would ruin the narrative. It would spoil the sexy vibe I had going”
“I’m not having people thinking that I was purring like a thoroughly contented kitten David. It’s embarrassing. If you don’t tell them that I was clearing mucus from my throat then I’ll leave a comment on your blog telling everyone about that weird thing you did with the …”
“OK, OK! Fine. Let’s compromise. How about I just play the recording into some speech recognition software, and just upload the transcript of this conversation as tomorrow’s blog post? Plus, that will save me having to actually write anything. Obviously I’ll take out all that stuff where you nearly started talking about those weird things I did and asked you to do.”
“That’s fine by me. To be honest, I think that I’ll come out a lot better from this event than you will. But knowing you, you’ll do something stupid like forget to edit it, and just upload the entire thing, including all the times that I nearly mentioned those sordid little ideas of yours.”
“I’m not stupid. I won’t forget. Am I allowed to use the actual recording from tonight for the podcast. That will save me even more time.”
“What? No. Seriously, you’re taking the piss now! Get out of my house David. I’ve had enough of you and your weirdness!”
“OK, OK, look, I’m sorry. Oo, talking of taking the piss: I’m just going to pop to the toilet before I leave. I’ve been dying for a poo all day.”
“Sorry, no, my toilet is broken.”
“What?! But that was the main reason I came home with you. Oh well, at least I got a blog out of it, so I suppose it hasn’t been a completely wasted night.”
“Oh you know just what to say to make a girl feel special. Piss off, before I claw your eyes out like a dementedly enraged wild cat. Purred like a thoroughly contented kitten indeed. I ask you.”
Except, none of that actually happened. But then you knew that already. I pilfered the opening of this blog post (including the purring kitten line) from a romantic novel called Suddenly Last Summer, by Sarah Morgan, which I found by Googling “ridiculous romantic fiction extract.”
Last night was far from salacious. I didn’t go out, but I did have a nice evening with my housemates. We made a delicious curry with proper fresh ingredients like proper sophisticated adults. Although the night was not salacious, it did offer up a tale of a gelatinous nature. We were all too tired and bloated after the curry to tackle the dishes, so we left them until the morning. When we came down the stairs the next morning, the remainder of the uneaten rice was still lying there on the plates, and it had indeed gone a bit gelatinous. So there you go, both a salacious and a gelatinous tale in the same blog post. What a treat.
If you were enjoying the erotic story at the start of the blog post, before I cut it short, then you can purchase a copy of the actual novel here. Sadly, I don’t make an appearance in the original. I’m sorry to say that there isn’t yet a novel available of my gelatinous rice story, and I am pretty confident in stating that there never will be.
Back tomorrow. We’re in double digits now. Another milestone reached. Oh yes, I can tell your impressed.’;
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