Round 19

[Tricia]

Stupid yahoo piece of crap...
oooops... did I say that out loud?

Well yes... I have a bit of trouble with my email account... although I thinks it's more my computer and less my account.

I have the Wicked Words for Round 19.
They are as follows...

In no particular order...

hurricane
lucid
presumptuous
tower
vain
feather


So write away little soldiers... I think Friday will be the best night to do the extension don't you?

heheh


I know you miss me when I'm gone...

[Chaos]

Just bumping Round 19 up and gettin' notifications...while we're keeping it real, ya know...see ya'll Friday for the extension!

[ThatWickedWench]

OKay, so my story is ALMOST finished. I mean I COULD have it done by midnight, but that would mean crunch time. Let me be the first to scream EXTENSION. I mean no stories yet, people. So an extension isn't going to hurt things, right?

[Tricia]

OKAY!


Extension time!

Wheeeeeeeeeee

I just love extensions!

Whooooooo
Hooooooooo

Let's hear it for extensions!

Wednesday...
there... you've been extended... now start writing!

[RedneckDiva]

We are the biggest bunch of procrastinators I've ever seen.

Anyone care to join me in the coat room for some pre-story-writing inspiration? I'm feelin like I need to vent a bit of the energy that's building there under m'skirt.

[ThatWickedWench]

ME ME ME!!! *Waves hand frantically in the air* PICK ME!!!

What do I needa bring?
*Grabs paper to start making list*

[RedneckDiva]

Okay, Wenchie write this down. We need:

4 cucumbers
2 40 watt lightbulbs
a carton of Marlboro Lights
a Sharpie marker
5 rubber bands
and 7 clothespins

I've already got the sheet plastic, peppermint oil, a half case of D batteries. and heh heh....m'Rabbit.

Soon as you get your list all together,
GET
IN
HERE!!

[ThatWickedWench]

WooHoo we're gonna have some fun tonight! I got my list together here I come!
*hangs DO NOT DISTURB (unless you brought extra provisions) sign on coatroom door*

[ThatWickedWench]

Wench1

This was not the luscious green paradise that the brochure had promised, he thought, maneuvering the ten year old camaro down a winding, cracked and rutted drive. The road, overgrown on both sides with nasty looking briars, narrowed considerably and Walter was now able to see clearly the thick mire of oozing swampland that bordered the property. He seemed to recall that the brochure had also mentioned soothing waterfalls and a brilliant array of relaxing rainforest flora and fauna. A balding squirrel dashed across the road in front of his car. Walter hit the gas and the car lurched forward, barely missing the disheveled rodent.
“Fuck!” Walter cursed as the camaro slammed into another deep pothole, causing his car to groan from the impact. He found himself wondering why in the Hell he’d agreed to this weekend without checking it out ahead of time. Oh, yea. He remembered now. He was possibly going to get laid for the first time in… oh shit, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d had some ass. But he’d paid for it that time too, he was pretty sure of that.
Turning the creaking car into a poorly manicured circle, he nearly drove straight into a cheap plastic fountain that spouted brackish water over some moldy looking frolicking cherubs.
“Aha,” he mused, “that must be the waterfall!”<br> Walter parked the car and got out, investigating the rather dingy surroundings of his weekend retreat. He attempted in vain to shake the impending sensation of doom that had come to perch on his shoulders ominously to mock him. Well, his buddies at work had recommended this resort rather highly, and ten years of going nowhere as an investment banker working out of a five by five cubicle DOES tend to make one rather uptight. Maybe he would just suck it up and enjoy what he could. Some margaritas and massages (with or without the happy ending) might just do him some good. Spinning on his heels to check out what he assumed was the main building of this ‘health spa’, Walter inhaled a deep breath of semi fresh air. Fumbling in his front shirt pocket, he produced a rather beaten up bic lighter and proceeded to light a camel. He supposed there really was no need to be so presumptuous merely on account of the dreary surroundings.
From out of seemingly nowhere, a rather tiny man/midget/dwarf (what the fuck?) appeared at Walter’s knees and bowed to him deeply.
“At your service, Mr. Pendleton.” He straightened and that was when Walter took notice of the gnome like get-up that the little guy wore. Green tights, red vest, he was only missing the shoes.
“My name is Lou, Mr. Pendleton. Please follow me to sign in for your weekend of divine ecstasy with the most experienced pleasure specialist in the country.”<br> Okay, now THIS sounded very nice. As he stubbed out the cigarette, Walter did a little dance in his mind thinking about what his ‘pleasure specialist’ was going to be doing to him in a few short hours… he didn’t care what she did, he was ready for anything. At this point he really didn’t think he cared what she looked like, so long as she smelled nice and wasn’t a size queen. He retrieved his suitcase and other bag from the car and, setting them on the ground, he turned to close the hatch. By the time he’d turned back around to grab his bags, Lou had already grabbed the luggage and was dragging it along the ground behind him and up the three steps into the main office, through dark glass doors.
Another midget appeared, this one a pimple faced teenager. He took Walter’s keys with a nasty little leer. He apparently was the valet because he hopped into the camaro and revved the engine. Walter wondered briefly how he was going to manage to reach the pedals to drive, but was too preoccupied with the costume he wore. This little guy had the same get-up on as Lou; accept that he HAD the pointy, curly toed shoes. And his shoes HAD friggin bells.
“You people could sue,” muttered Walter, but Lou ignored the comment. They had entered a large foyer that looked somewhat classier than the outside grounds had suggested. Plush carpet, mirrored ceiling, the furniture in the waiting area did not exactly MATCH but it looked comfortable at least. In the very center of the foyer, carved (or molded?) from a very reflective faux brass, a very voluptuous fifteen-foot tall sex goddess towered over the entire room. She was clad in only a devious smile and brandished in one hand a cat-o-nine tails and in the other, a feather. Interestingly enough, her props were real, apparently glued to her brassy palms.

[ThatWickedWench]

Wench1
<~Continued~>

From behind a heavy yet elegant desk in the corner, came a hideous croak that sounded sort of like "Welcome." Walter didn’t see the owner of the voice until he came close enough to the desk counter to see over it.
Her nametag said her name was Helen and her features betrayed her age as somewhere upwards of 100, though she had painted on enough makeup that none of her jaundiced flesh tones showed. She smiled and her face threatened to crack with the effort. Extending a tiny, leathered hand with nicotine stained fingertips, she stood and motioned for Lou to leave.
“Your belongings will be taken to your room, and here is your key card.” She placed a credit card sized door swiper in Walter’s hand and her dry, scaly index finger caressed his palm momentarily- long enough at least, to make the skin all over his body crawl with revulsion. He cringed at the way she seemed to undress him with her muddy brown eyes… he prayed he wouldn’t have to look at Helen much longer. She might take away any chance he ever had for future erections if he didn’t get her image out of his mind, and soon.
Helen seemed to sense his anxiety and pushed an intercom button on the desk. From behind a curtain on the other side of the room, two very attractive sirens in their early twenties appeared and came to his side, giggling and watching Helen coyly. The redhead molded her tight body to Walter, while the brunette slid her hand down the front of his slacks.
“Take Mr. Pendleton to his quarters. Loosen him up, and prepare him for the evening’s festivities,” Helen garbled. “Get him a bottle of his favorite beverage and anything else he desires. And…” she smiled. “Make certain that you two fillies don’t let him spend all his energy on you. He’s going to need it later.”<br> Walter was overwhelmed with happiness, and he felt his dick growing hard already… it was happening; he was going to get laid! And these girls were so much more than he had anticipated! He barely felt his feet touch the floor as they led him down the hall to the pleasure dome, tickling, teasing and caressing him the entire way.
The girls really did their best to rile him up. They were very professional. He couldn’t ever remember a more seasoned set of hands or mouth that was able to make his cock spring to life and STAY there as long as his did that evening.
He’d been massaged and manhandled, rubbed and pinched. Every muscle had been worked and worked some more. The highlight had been the oil rub. One of the girls and saturated her entire body in mineral oil and then climbed on top of Walter, sliding her naked skin up and down his body. He’d been surprised he hadn’t shot his wad all over her then. The girls had finished prepping Walter’s previously neglected body and left the room, stating that he was about to have the most orgasmic sexual experience he had ever had. The Prime Pleasure Priestess, aptly named ‘Hurricane’, was going to visit him and show him everything that he’d been missing in the ways of eroticism.
Several hours later, Walter came to. His body screamed with ecstatic pain. The room was smothered in darkness and the musky scent of spent sexual fluids hung in the air. Rubbing his eyes, Walter slowly came back to lucidity. He reached down and gave his over-worked cock a friendly squeeze too, a sort of ‘thanks for being there for me buddy’ gesture and noticed he was still rock hard. Amazing, after ALL that and he was still ready for another round. This Pleasure Priestess must really know her stuff. He jumped suddenly in surprise when he heard a muffled snore coming from under the tangled satin sheets at his side. The covers stirred slightly. She was still in there with him!
Walter slid his hand under the sheet and worked his fingers between her legs and into her warm pussy, noting she was still sopping wet from their prior interlude. He worked her clit until her hips started jerking in spasms and then he pulled back the sheet to suck on an exposed, soft breast. He extracted his fingers from her and licked the sticky wetness from them, savoring the pungent juices.
It was at that moment that Hurricane Helen, croaking in a fury of climax, pulled the chain on the bedside lamp illuminating her wrinkled, sagging, Picasso-like body as she contorted violently in orgasm.
This of course, came as a nasty surprise for Walter, who hit his head viciously on the bed’s sideboard as he fell out of it, suffering a massive contusion and not-so-major memory loss.
Unfortunately for Walter, that part of his memory, that last image of Hurricane Helen flopping in geriatric ecstacy, managed to become the most vivid image he retained from his entire pathetic life. And, as he sat in his own special chair at his new home, Shady Acre Mental Rehabilitation Center, he rocked back and forth keening pathetically by the window. Twitching. His eyes now remained permanently closed as he attempted to block out the world.

[sidra]

nice one, wench... that was so vivid that the image of Hurricane Helen is entrenched in MY mind... i need to get it out! aieee!

open that coatroom door! i brought extra cucumbers and a bottle of Jack Daniel's!

you guys... seriously... i completely forgot to check the forum this week. i haven't even started writing... i will now, though!

[RedneckDiva]

*Jerks open the coatroom door, looks around then grabs the bottle of JD out of Sid's hand then pulls her in by the arm*

Wellllllllcome, kitty.

[ThatWickedWench]

*Peeks out from the coatroom*

Hmmmm... noone's here...

*devious grin*

*Streaks around the forum nekkid*

WooHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

*Runs like Hell back to the coatroom*

[sidra]

i am working on my story... i swear i'll have it finished by tomorrow...

it's just hard to sit here and write with a cucumber up my... well, i'm having a hard time getting pried out.

[ThatWickedWench]

Nothing doin Sid! Let me help!

*reaches into carpet bag and produces KY*