String Theory - A steamy short.

Visitor (not verified)
anonymous user
Registered: 12-31-1969
String Theory - A steamy short.
Sun, 09-23-2012 - 2:44am

How cool there is a short story section.  I write erotica actually, so I thought I'd share one - right in line with having just left the masterbation thread.  This story was written for a contest with sever word limits and a picture prompt.  The picture was a hot babe, from behind, standing with a guitar leaning against her bare bum.  I call it "String Theory".  

 

An amplifier hummed from the corner, its volume low to impart a muted growl more than the thunderous roar of its worth. The reverberation was enough to set the still night air of the studio apartment in motion. A rhythmic, cooling breeze drifted across Roxanne’s bare skin during what would have been an unbearable heat. She lay, almost trancelike on her back, her body absorbing the oscillating pulse, and chords that set the pace of her heartbeat. 

Roxanne’s legs parted, her lover’s body resting against an outstretched thigh, a ridge riding affectionately against the swollen pillow of her labia. With every soft rumble of the bass, each spot where her lover’s form touched Roxanne’s fair skin transferred vibrations into her tranquil form. Her fingers strummed, almost idly along her lover’s length. Music from headphones set her mood, and the harmonic sensations that controlled her body waltzed along invisible strings. The strings pulled at nerves, excited sensitive skin, and conveyed the resonance to her core.

Roxanne was hypnotized by concordant waves of sound and sensual physical awareness. Detached from her own reality, Roxanne half-sang, half-whispered the words.

”And you only can make my life complete
Uh, Uh. Ah, IE
and when you come you slip into a dream
Uh, Uh. Ah, IE”


She shifted slightly; just enough to ease that ridge to ride against her clit. The new touch seemed to light a fuse; the vibration became a sonic massage, tightened those buried strings and tugged from the inside at her excited nipples, suddenly feeling aflame. Strings pulled at her feet, curling her toes and flexing her arch. Roxanne was exquisitely seduced by the mix of music, vibration and touch.

Roxanne’s fingers never stopped dancing, strumming, and pulling music from the essence of her lover into her own core until the tempo changed. 

She sang some more.

”When it’s late at night and you’re fast a sleep
I let my fingers do the walking.”


Her tongue snaked from between her teeth, licking, moistening the pouty shape of her lips so she could continue..

”I’m starving
For some attention
I’m begging, pleading, bleeding
For a suggestion 
Uh, Uh, Uh”


In a continuous loop, the song repeated and Roxanne sang. She sang until it struck; a resonance of sweet surrender as waves washed through her loin, her peak the result of electric crescendo that shook her. Heels anchored against the sheets, Roxanne’s hips rocked uncontrolled against the weight at the apex of her legs as her breathy tones continued to mimic the sounds in her ears.

”ohhhh ohhh oh oh oh oh” 

“Me Vengo, Me Vengo,” came out as groan as she surrendered to waves of magnetic harmony..

“Ah, Ah, ah, ah, ah Uh, Uh, uh Huh,” she crooned softly 

Roxanne went still. She lay motionless, basking in the glow of her private performance; she felt harmony recede in slow deliberate tones until the amp grew silent. The air stilled as she began to relax.

She lifted the bass from between her legs. With a T-shirt, rumpled on the bed next to her, she wiped her nectar from the smooth lines and set it aside. She fell back, spent, against her pillow.

With a wry grin, Roxanne asked herself one question. “Who needs toys for a solo gig?” she pondered, “Who needs them when you have a fender?”


Mingled lyrics from "Fingers" by Pink