Chapter 3: Getting to know you

Molly sat at the dining room table with her laptop in front of her and books and papers thrown around her. She had never been so thankful to get rid of her old table, and enjoyed the fact that she could use Tracie’s table, though a desk and an office would be even better. Tracie however, was moving things around in the spare bedroom trying to make a workable double office.

“Life will be so grand once I finish this thesis” Molly said mockingly, just under her breathe. Somehow Tracie had heard that small statement from the living room couch and came over to Molly. Tracie bent down close to Molly’s ear and swept a moist tongue slowly against it.

“Sounds like someone needs a brain break.” Tracie whispered, moving her hands slowly to Molly’s button up shirt. Molly did nothing but murmur in agreement and arched her back to allow Tracie better access to her buttons and leaned her head back to accept a kiss. Tracie knew when to give Molly her homework space, and she also knew when Molly could not bear to do any more and needed a nice distraction of sex or food, mostly sex.

Tracie undid the buttons, one by one and placed a kiss on Molly’s mouth every time a button was undone. Teasing and slowly building anticipation was Molly’s favourites, though Tracie found it very difficult to restrain herself, she enjoyed the challenge of torturing herself (with pleasure) to pleasure (with torture) Molly. Once half the buttons were done Tracie slowly trailed a hand on the inside of Molly’s shirt. The feel of skin on skin was the proof that her dear Molly wasn’t wearing a bra. Molly gasped when Tracie moved her finger tips, and gasped again when Tracie gave it a tweek.

Tracie teased her by taking her hand out of the shirt and giving a quick lick of the finger and then moving the tip of her finger around Molly’s very excited nipple. Tracie took the full weight of Molly’s breast in her hand and squeezed playfully before undoing the rest of the buttons.

“Someone is excited to play hooky from their homework I see.” Tracie stated the obvious. Soon the buttons were all done; Tracie in her youth had become a master at undoing buttons and bras. Molly was her first girlfriend, and they never really went past anything that included more than a kiss. Tracie grabbed Molly’s hand and led her to the bed in the living room, since the bedroom at that time was still being painted. Wet paint was only really sexy if it was latex made for naked bodies.

Molly fell on the bed when Tracie gently pushed her down. Tracie kissed Molly lightly on the lips, then the chin, then the neck. She licked a soft line of moisture from her neck to her ear lobe and back, she then continued to kiss down Molly’s body. Molly’s back arched, her body language pleaded with Tracie to lick her nipples.

“yes dear” Tracie murmured into Molly’s chest as she drew one of Molly’s excited nipples into her mouth. She then licked and traced lines of kisses to the other breast and did the same thing to her nipple. Molly moaned with pleasure and wiggled her hips. “Not quite yet” Tracie denied her, and Molly whimpered with frustration, but only slightly because she loved when Tracie took her time.

Tracie felt her hands slowly up and down molly’s body, once firmly with her palm, then just slightly with her finger tips. Tracie slid the small white lace boy style panties off of Molly as she softly kissed down molly’s body, nipping and licking her skin. Tracie hovered over Molly’s pussy, her hot breath touching her bare skin. Molly took an inhale of breath and held it, expecting to feel Tracie unfold her and lick. Tracie denied her this and when to kiss her thighs. Another whimper came from Molly. Tracie grinned smugly and nipped at Molly’s skin gently. “Patience”

Tracie kissed along Molly’s right thigh until she got to Molly’s wet pussy. She licked her lips, and then licked Molly’s. Tracies thumbs slowly brought apart her folds and her tongue lightly grazed Molly’s clit. Molly’s hips bucked slightly at the feel of Tracies tongue.

“Whoa, cowgirl.” Tracie giggled and held Molly’s hips down while she leisurely licked Molly, her tongue circulating and tracing and flicking at Molly’s clit. She let her tongue travel down and taste deeper. Molly was starting to breathe heavier and faster. Tracie took a hand from Molly’s hip and slid a finger into Molly. It was time to get serious and get Molly to climax, and climax hard. Tracie loved the sight  of Molly as she came, the usually serious and stressed Molly would completely tense. And then let everything, every stress that was bothering her just disappear for away.

Plus Tracie loved the sounds she was making when Tracie was hitting a hot spot. She put another finger in side and gently rubbed Molly’s g-spot, never once giving up the tongue-on-clit strategy.  Molly was coming unglued, her hips tried to wiggle against Tracie, for more and more. Her moans coming constantly and quickly, they sounded involuntary and somewhat animalistic.  Tracie started to rub her g-spot faster, and taste Molly deeply. She herself was getting unbearably turned on.

It didn’t take long before Molly became to shake and take that one last breath of air before climaxing. Her left leg twitched as the waves slowly subsided from her finish.  Tracie grinned to herself. She still found it hard to believe that the girl she barely held hands with, but still her first love, was now panting because of the cunnalingus that Tracie had given her.

Tracie came up to Molly’s face and kissed her forhead, then nose and finally and deep passionate kiss. “Let’s lay her a while before you have to go back to work” Tracie suggested. Snuggling into Molly’s naked body. Tracie couldn’t help but slowly caress Mollly’s breasts.

“That sounds great Trace.” Molly snuggled right back into Tracie’s body. Molly loved Tracie’s love to give, and not ask for anything in return. Of course Molly did return the favour, but there was no need to do that repaying right now. Molly planned to get Trace when she least expected it. Perhaps get her hot and bothered in the Movie theather and then devour her as soon as they get back to the apartment. Tracie loved it when Molly was a little naughty, it was as if Tracie still saw Molly is that little shy questioning teenager. Molly was not shy any more, and there was no question, she loved women’s bodies. Tracie has a familiar body, even though she had never seen it in high school, she always found herself  imagining Tracie’s naked body.

Molly kissed Tracies forehead. “I love you Trace.”

“I love you too.”

Chapter 4: Running away from you.

Alba slammed her door when she got into her car. Of course she was trying to look calm and collected.

“Holy fuck that was him.” Alba got her seatbelt on and started the car. She managed to be able to look up to see if he was looking at her. She wondered if he recognized her at all. He didn’t seem to have noticed her past a random person who almost ran him over in a coffee shop.  Alba checked her pager and called the number listed.

“Hey Chance, how’s it going.” Alba said when her sometimes but not always, flamboyant partner of her department answered the phone.

“I’m absolutely flawless! Tommy here on the other hand is having a bit of an issue.” Chance replied with a bit of flair. Alba wondered if he just did that for the kids sake.  Yea some kids hated Chance because he was gay, but most kids found him non threatening after that was found out. It even got some of the kids to respect him strangely enough. Chance, well you most likely aren’t picturing a tall black man with an chunky build, but that’s Chance. Alba has started working with him almost three years ago, she would have no idea where her career would be if it wasn’t for Chance. He kept her head out of the toilet bowl. Social work was a stressful job.

“Fuck you, gay ass bitch. Just let me go. I don’t wanna speak to that cunt.” Was the voice that was on Chance’s side of the conversation.

“Mind your manners Tommy.” Chance said in a voice that would remind anyone of their mother. Alba could just picture Tommy with his middle finger in the air and giving a ridiculous face. Tommy came from an abusive family. He was a really smart kid that thought everything and everyone in the world was against him. Alba was in charge of making sure he was staying in school and staying away from gang activity.

“Chance, I’m on my way there. I’ll be 10 to 15.” Alba said on the phone. She was close by and might be sooner than that. However, she didn’t want Tommy to know how long she would be, it would be easier for Chance to stall him.

Alba sighed when she hung up the phone. Her mind was on Tommy but it quickly unfolded to be more inclusive of the guy she ran into that day. She was almost a hundred percent that the man she bumped into was the man she had sex with the night of the masquerade party a year ago.

His body was very familiar, and those green eyes Alba could recognize anywhere. She remembered that it would really be hard for him to recognize her because she was not wearing her mask, and that was the only thing that he would have remembered her as. She seduced him in one of the themed rooms in the party Emilia had thrown for her organization.

He was a little bit dirty going into the coffee shop. She wondered what he did for a living. He was still amazingly good looking beneath the layers of dirt on his clothes and skin. Alba was glad she never made direct contact with the man at the coffee shop. She didn’t know his name, knew little about him but where he licked to be licked, touched and different intimate details you would only get from having sex with a stranger. The only thing she cared to know about him before she attempted to seduce him was that he was not involved with someone else.
Her mind raced with the thoughts of what her and the man from the coffee shop did, and the nervousness she felt when she saw him again. She shook her head, trying to get the image of him naked below her out of her head. She needed to focus on work and getting Tommy to talk to her about what made him get in trouble again. That’s when she was called in, when there was a problem child that started to do well, then relapsed and fell back into their old routine of no respect and breaking laws.

Tommy was a smart kid, but for some reason Tommy just never believed he could be anymore then a silly troubled kid that was forced to live in a system that didn’t care for his well being. Alba cared though, Alba always cared. Unfortunately for Alba that means that some people have been using that to their advantage.

Chapter ???: The Masqurade

“Alba!” Emilia said coming down the hallway of her town house. She said it with a motherly tone, most likely used for her clients that wanted a motherly type dom. Emilia

Chapter 2: And then just an apology

“Sorry” Alba said as she rushed the rest of the way to her car. Rylan looked after her, she looked strangely familiar. When she was close to him, he couldn’t help but feel as if he had been that close to her before, even her smell was recognizable. He shrugged it off as a weird déjà vu coincidence and went to the counter to order his coffee, black.

He had just gotten off work, and was in a different side of the city than he was normally in, but the coffee shop that may or may not be starbucks called him inside to get a nice hot coffee. He had been working on a roof when the blizzard hit, and was not wearing appropriate clothing for that kind of weather. He should have known. He always heard of Calgary as the wandering weather city, I suppose you never really believe it unless you live here yourself. At least where he was from it was always the same over cast and chilly day for the entire year.

Though he loved the weather as it was now, and the golden light made by the sunset made him always feel a sense of peace. Though he would never admit his poetic love for the sunsets to any of his male friends, and found it hard to admit it to women he fancied. Perhaps because it wasn’t just a line he found it hard to use. Though it would work, he grinned, not that he used lines like that. Often.

Rylan was in his car again turning the key to head out and head towards home. Or the smaller sized down town apartment he called home. He had made the decision to go back to this coffee shop, make it his regular stop after work. Rylan thought about Alba, of course he didn’t know her name was Alba.

He couldn’t quite get her out of his head. He ran a bunch of women through his head, those he had slept with, those through work, he even tried the “girls my friends have slept with” database. Maybe she will be at that coffee shop again. He pulled into the underground parking lot under his apartment and got his suitcase out of his car. His phone rang, his cell phone made the actual ringing sound, he couldn’t stand those silly tunes. He put it to his ear.

“Stu, you bastard, how are you?” He called into the phone. Stu and Rylan were brothers. They were still close even though Rylan had moved to Canada.

“I am doin’ great! You remember that little Lass Maria I was telling you about?” Stu said with equal enthusiasm.

“’course I do, same little lass you been talkin’ about for four years. Did she finally get tired of you and run away with some Spanish pene?” Rylan knew there was no way Maria would run off with a Spanish guy; she was definitely not a fan of Spanish guys, even though they seemed to really love her.

“No sir, she just happened to have said yes to my proposal last week.” The smile was definitely recognizable over the phone. Rylan had a tinge of sadness that he wasn’t notified right away of the proposal, he knew that Stu had been planning to propose for quite some time, but Maria needed to finish up her studies.

“I am so happy for you bud! You both deserve the world.” He was happy for his brother. Marriage for Rylan never really seemed like an option. He didn’t want to feel trapped, and he also didn’t want to trap someone else. His parents stayed together, and were still together. He never understood why, perhaps it was just easier to stay together miserable then it was to separate. Rylan knew they most likely used the kids as the reason why they didn’t leave each other. There was no love between them that Rylan could remember. They married because they had to back then, not because they wanted to.

He chatted with his brother for awhile, giving congratulations and made sure to save the date on his calendar. They talked about how the rest of the family was doing, how Rylan’s soccer team was playing and about different things that were in the world news. He stood talking just in the door way of his apartment and when the conversation was done he put his cell phone and his keys on the kitchen counter that was by his door and ran his fingers through his hair. His shoes were then off and placed on the mat by the door.

“What would this place be like if I had a wife in here?” He said as he looked around. He didn’t have much furniture. It was just a bed and a TV that were in the living room. He blamed it on not being able to move most of his furniture from Ireland to Canada without paying ridiculous amounts of money. He had given the rest of his belongings to good will, or to Stu to keep for safe keeping. It had been almost a year since he moved to this apartment, but still his apartment was empty. Rylan would never admit that he was lonely. He was fully capable of being happy without a woman constantly by his side.

He wasn’t a man whore either like some of his friends had been, but he wasn’t a novice when it came to women either. Still though, Rylan never really gave his chance to love a woman. He always got a little scared when the thought of a commitment came up. He may have left some broken hearts along the way. He never meant to hurt anyone.

Rylan was sore from work, he shingled all day and was coated in sweat and dust. He needed a shower, a way to end a long day. He went to the laundry room and grabbed a fresh towel; his mother had gotten him Navy blue bath sheets for Christmas a couple of years ago. They were soft and long. Rylan went through his master bedroom to the en-suite. He turned the water on so it would have enough time to get to the right temperature, the hotter the better.

He undid the buttons of his pants and took off everything below his waist in one smooth move, though the socks took a bit more effort. Rylan took a few seconds to enjoy an ass cheek scratch before removing his shirt, and enjoyed then a nice chest scratch. Rylan was a man of 5 10, a strong body build that was made from his career as a roofer. His chest and abdomen was wealthy in hair department. The mirror was only then starting to fog over with the heat of the shower building up. He rubbed his green eyes before getting under the hot spray.

Rylan made a huge sigh of triumph as the water fell on his body, making every inch seem more awake and relaxed with its heat. He reached for his shampoo and squeezed a healthy amount into his hand. He then lathered the sweet smelling concoction onto his head and chest. Rinsed. Rylan then got out the loofa. He laughed every time he took the pale pink loofa out. It was his sister that bought him the loofa, he tried to act all manly when he got it. Now that he has actually used its ultimate lathering goodness he couldn’t use anything else.

He washed the rest of his body in a hurried fashion, soaping up his various body parts then rinsing them thoroughly. He even remembered to clean between his toes and his behind his ears. When Rylan was done washing his body he anchored his body with his right arm on the wall and just stood under the hot massaging power of his shower. Even though it was an old apartment he was glad that the water had pressure.

He thought about his day, briefly about the part where he worked. There was a new guy on the job site he wasn’t quite sure of. All of that however faded to the background when he went to focus on the girl that was leaving the coffee shop as he was coming in. What was it about her, Rylan though about her. The red hair of hers carelessly flirting behind her back in the sunset rays as she practically ran away from him.

Rylan scoffed at himself “That image is a little too romantic for you isn’t bud.” Then he shook his head slightly “No, it’s not.” It seemed as though she ran away from him. She did seem as though she recognized me. Pfft, that thought is just silly. Rylan threw away any intention of playing around with that thought.

His mind trailed and he thought again to that night at the masquerade ball. It all happened a year ago, but still Rylan thought about the woman who had seduced him there that night. He was not expecting anything that night. He had gone through a bad break up and was drug by a friend who needed to get Rylan out of his apartment and back out into the real world. He was not looking for another women, not even a rebound lay.

Her emerald mask and blue eyes, those images made for an instant semi erection.  Rylan had to make sure that he never thought of her at work. Of course with that thought, and the remembrance of what they did together that night. The way her body felt against his, the way he felt inside of her. He often thought of the taste of her kiss, the smell of the perfume on her neck and the feel of her body under his, and above his.

Rylan was stroking himself; just slowly and leisurely, enjoying with his eyes closed the memory of the night of the masquerade. The pace slowly went faster, as the images in his head got racier. Her naked wet pussy grinding against him sent him over the edge, and all over the shower wall.

“She never took off her mask,” Rylan said to himself, panting still from his personal excursion with his favourite fantasy (only a fantasy because he thought of what would happen if he saw her again. Rylan remembered that that night his mask had fallen off, where hers was always firmly in place. He had seen everything of her body except for her face and her hair which was covered by a hat. How the hat and mask stayed on during their encounter was beyond him.

Chapter 1 After the cut (other chapters in other posts

“Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.”
-James Arthur Baldwin

Chapter 1: Just a hello.
There is a thing you need to know about Calgary weather, if you ever get a chance to visit. It changes constantly; it could be a blizzard for two hours and then a nice spring day right after, and possible again with the blizzard business. The weather personal could be perfectly accurate when it says “chance of rain, snow, sun or apocalyptic storm conditions.” It’s beautiful here though, on days when it is not snowing in May.

So it starts on a day that is a perfect example of what I am bringing to your attention. The sun was shining bright and there was a light cool breeze. It was just the beginning of fall and the leaves were falling to the ground. They ground however, was covered in melting snow. It had just stopped snowing, mass white out conditions. If it wasn’t for the snow left on the grass it was like Calgary was in complete denial of the storm even happening.

Our character entering on the right, or perhaps we as the spectators are entering, is Alba Trowell, never known to her friends as Al. That’s a warning for you, just so you know, never call her Al.

Alba is in her favourite coffee shop (just so you know it may or may not be a starbucks), waiting on one of those friends that are always just a little late all the time. Her hair was being hit by the sunset’s rays, and it exploded fiery red. Not authentic red, dark auburn from a box. Alba always felt more like a redhead then her natural blond. The hair was long and was found in wavy curls down her back, she had so much hair that she had to use two boxes of dye, that was the last time she would dye her hair by herself. Her face did not have any make up on it; she was blessed with an amazing smooth complexion.

She had a round face and a huge, warm smile. Alba had the kind of smile that would get you friends, no matter what situation you would find yourself in. The style of clothing she would wear works best in fall. Alba loved dark purples, greens and browns. She didn’t spend too much on her wardrobe, always better things to do and she was brought up not to be vain, or to care what she looked like as long as she presented herself well. There was always some confusion about that.

Alba has her portable music device with mostly legally gathered music and is writing a letter to her mother. Alba’s mother Michelle had Alba at a very young age (17 if the math was done correctly), and raised her by herself in a small town. They were very close, but Michelle did not like to be referred to as a “best friend” type of mother, she was still very much the mother.

The letter was being sent to somewhere in Africa, her mother was very much into educating and empowering women. Phone calls were not something that was made between them often; the African village Michelle was working in at the time did not have phones available. She was a teacher, of English, of math, of science, of sex and of course of women’s rights.  Most men would refer to her, as the loud mouthed bitch, though I am not sure how exactly that’s translated in the African dialect.

Alba loved her mother, but thought she was just a little bit extreme growing up; it made more sense that Michelle was stationed in a village in Africa where women are still thought of as not human but as pets. It was hard to date with a hard core feminist as a mother, but Alba wasn’t angry at how her life turned out. She was happy, but felt it was more important to show she was happy alone and never explored a serious relationship. Her relationships were more of a need to end sexual frustration then to find a loving and secure relationship. She was always curious about kids, but what if the same thing happened to her that happened to her mother. Alba new that technology was advanced and that she wouldn’t need a man, but doing things like that alone wasn’t all that appealing either.

The letter Alba received from her mother was different from the others. Her mother has always told her that she couldn’t place her happiness on a man alone that she had to find it within herself. Alba got the impression that her mother was against Alba finding a man and settling down “the old patriartical way”. Alba felt that marriage was just an institutional hold on women, and was a way to control them.

Michelle saw that her child was a great woman and didn’t let society put her down, but Alba didn’t explore love in fear of being trapped.  Because of that, this letter was a little different. Michelle had always told Alba that happiness was something you had to find yourself and encouraged Alba never to rely on someone to make them happy.

In the letter as well, Michelle wrote about Alba’s father, John, although there wasn’t a lot of discussion about him when Alba was growing up. John was abusive; it started around the time Michelle got pregnant. Michelle always answered questions that Alba had, but Alba didn’t want to know much about him. She always heard growing up how good of a guy John was and the rumors about how he died. They whisper that Michelle had something to do with it. Michelle has always told Alba that John had died because he had too much to drink and drove off the road into a tree.

“Alba, daughter O’mine, I think you have gotten the impression that I am against heterosexual relationships. Procreation is still a must hun, and there is nothing wrong with heterosexual love. I would be a hypocrite if I thought otherwise. I have always been an advocate for love.

I loved your father Alba; I wouldn’t change a thing about our relationship for two reasons. (okay maybe I would have gotten out of it just a little sooner, but I suppose that wouldn’t have made me the stronger women I am now, and I would not have learned all I have learned…now I’m just blabbering on!!)

The biggest reason that I would never change the past is you. You know that.

What you may not know is that I had the choice not to have you Alba. It was the late 70’s I could have gotten an abortion, it was becoming wide spread. It wouldn’t have been easy but my parents were wealthy enough to keep it quiet and safe enough (at least what was considered safe back then). They were the ones who actually suggested it. So I thought about it. I made the choice to carry you to term and a choice to keep you after you were born. You know how strongly I believe in agency!

The second reason is that your father also taught me a lot about this world, and the things that are just not quite right about this world. I don’t think I would be where I am if it wasn’t for the lessons I learned, though terrible they were to learn. I am very happy where I am now. (Besides the fact that I miss you terribly.)
Despite how many times I thought back then that I was doing you a disservice by being an advocate instead of trying to find a father so we could have a “family.” I felt that it would be a greater disservice to you if I didn’t follow the path that was right for me. I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but I think you turned out wonderfully.

And even with that I do think I need to clear something up. I have always told you that you should never rely on a man to make you happy. That’s the huge feminist in me talking. I have always said that your independence was more important than your dependence. However, I do wish I had told you that that didn’t mean that you couldn’t ask for help.

And the biggest thing I need to clarify is that once you were happy with yourself that it was okay (and encouraged) to share that happiness with someone else, even if that someone else was a male that you were in a romantic relationship with.  You know that I am not a man hater, although the language in the feminist theory hasn’t changed much since the man hating days.

I just want you to know that you shouldn’t be afraid to fall in love. You know that you are your own person and the choice is always yours. I will not love you any less because you found someone to love, and I would never fault you if you chose to be a mother. My only intention in your upbringing was to show you that you had a choice.

What you don’t have a choice of however is the fact that I will be coming up for Christmas this year. I miss you too much to spend another away.”

Michelle ended her letter as she always did with a simple “love me.”
Then she felt a hand slowly creep on to her shoulder, her entire body froze.

“Hey hunny, what ya readin’” said a deep voice into Alba’s ear. Alba instantly melted back into her relaxed self and unplugged the iPod out of her ears. Even though the voice was trying to be disguised, Alba recognized it as Tracie, the always just a bit late friend.

“Letter from my mom, and Gee Tracie! Almost a half hour late today.” Alba said with mock discontentment and added a smile full of mischievous attitude. Tracie took off her coat, which was just one of her many layers. Alba was not sure how Tracie managed to make all over those mismatched articles of second hand store clothing work so well together. She would want to compliment Tracie on her sense of style, but Tracie would take that as an insult.

Tracie was one of those gals who hated mass media, and anything to do with trendiness, but enjoyed mocking it. Of course sometimes Tracie’s sense of anti conformist and anticonsumer attitude was still a type of conformist and consumerist mind sets (and she didn’t find her addiction to what may or may not be starbucks coffee as ironic). Alba wouldn’t be telling her that, and she has calmed down since her 20’s were passed her.  Needless to say, Tracie and Alba’s mother got a long, especially when Tracie came out, surprisingly or maybe not that she told Alba first, while Alba’s mother was in the room. Tracie’s parents were not too happy about the Trowell’s making their daughter sick. Her parents were a little older, and a lot less hip than Michelle was, and definitely looked down on her for being single all of those years and not looking for a father for her daughter.

“Sorry boo, traffic. I’mma  get my coffee, wanna refill?” Tracie said grabbing Alba’s travel mug and wiggled it in front of her face. Alba nodded and went to put the letter in her bag, but decided against it and kept her mother’s letter out. Tracie was back soon with two travel mugs of steaming Arabica bean soup. With cream and sugar for Tracie and just plain jane black for Alba.

“Mmm thank you Trace. I’mma let you read the latest news from my mom. Tell me what you think of the top part.” Alba slid the letter across the table, avoiding the tiny bit of coffee she had spilt and grabbed a tissue to wipe the spill up. While she wiped the drip of coffee, for longer than was necessary, she watched Tracie closely. Tracie read it with a bit of a smile and put it down.

“You know what Alba, yea, I think you have been too worried to prove to your mother that you are not a product of a male dominated society that you haven’t given yourself to enjoy love romantically. It wouldn’t matter to your mom if the love of your life wasn’t a female. Ha, that’s definitely not how that usually works is it? I think your mom is saying that it’s okay to fall in love; you don’t have to lose your sense of self to do so. I would have to agree not that I am one to talk about love, but that could be changing sooner than you or I thought.

Alba had had a similar conversation with Emilia, her friend that was a dominatrix. A year ago, the night proceeding that conversation was something to remember.

“Oh really? How is.. sorry what was her name again?” Alba wasn’t exactly sure who Tracie was seeing this week, she went through girlfriends pretty fast. Tracie just didn’t want to settle.  It didn’t matter though Alba wanted to change the subject.

“Molly, She’s doing great, she’s finishing up her thesis, so we don’t get a lot of time to be together. Her work is brilliant; we have arguments and then raunchy make up sex. I get a good feeling about her, she really feels like my other half.” Tracie lit up when talking about her. Though Alba didn’t pay much attention to the little bit of more than average sparkling in Tracie’s eye. They were always brilliant. Then Tracie did something she has never done before. “When she’s done her thesis you should come over for dinner, oh right I forgot to tell you, she moved in. “

Alba had a full mouth of coffee that almost ended up all over Tracie. She concentrated on swallowing the luke warm brew before she could speak. “Molly moved in? How long have you been dating? Has it been that long since we saw each other?”

Tracie smiled “We have been dating for just over a month. I didn’t really want to say anything because it just felt different this time. Didn’t want to jinx it, she was more than just a play thing for me. It’s a little odd because I knew her a long time ago and you actually know her.”

“What do you mean I know her Tracie?” Alba was very much confused, but Tracie just smiled and waited for the answer to come to her. Alba just couldn’t think of didn’t remember anyone in her life that was a Molly. Then it clicked. Actually it was more of a snap than a click. Molly was Tracie’s first girlfriend in senior year of high school. She was shy, quiet and did extremely well in school. They had broken up after grad because Tracie wanted to move to the big city and experiment with new things and learn about herself. Molly on the other hand was offered scholarships to attend a University in Toronto.

“I haven’t thought about Molly in ages. Where did you guys meet up again?” Alba was curious if Molly had changed any, Tracie was only slightly calmed down from her high school days. Tracie went on to tell Alba that she went to a conference regarding enlightened witnessing and Molly was speaking there. Tracie recognized her anywhere and Molly recognized Tracie right away. While speaking Molly noticed Tracie and blushed.

“When the speakers were all done I went up to her, and I suppose the rest is history. She is definitely not as shy as she used to be, and I may have been the first lesbian experience she has had, but that first night and nights thereafter was proof that I was not the last. She really found herself, when we broke up, I felt like I was pushing her to be a lesbian, she was never really sure of who she was.” Tracie really did seem happy.  “it’s just been like old times, but so new at the same time.”

Alba smiled, “That’s awesome Tracie! Re-united with the one that got away, not that’s not something that happens in real life all that often. Just cheesy chick lit novels.” Alba’s phone started to vibrate on the table. “ Oh shit, sorry Trace, time to go, the joys of being  on call. Call me soon, you and I still have a lot to catch up on.”

Alba collected her bag and hugged Tracie. She headed toward the door and she looked back at Tracie to give a small wave she bumped into Rylan.

“whoa there… Hello” Said Rylan.

Rylan Jennings

Albas mother Michelle is 51 born in 1960

Tracie – always just a little bit late friend, anti conformist, lesbian
Tracie’s gf Molly – was Tracies first gf

I found an article on eHow on “How to write Erotic Fiction”. Now of course I don’t think that reading this article will automatically make me this great empress of the erotic word, but it is a start.

This blog.. is my journey.. My thinking out loud if you would.
How  have not yet decided if I will actually show my work.

I’m shy.

Now here is the article and my thoughts on each step as I go through them.

1. Step 1Pick a sub-genre of erotic fiction, such as fantasy erotica, vampire erotica, gay erotica or light romantic erotica. Read as many works as possible in your chosen genre, and familiarize yourself with general structure of the existing works. Notice the use and style of euphemisms that exist in your genre.

   -Sub-genre??? I didn’t even think of it! How dark to I want this to be? I have a tendency to go dark when it comes to erotica. I have a feeling I would like to keep it light hearted this time around. I suppose love can do that to a person

   When I was younger I would have definitely gone for the Vampire erotica..however a certain trend makes me hesitant. Though I would write it better then some of the fan fiction floating around about creepy sparkle boy Ed.

   Gay erotica intrigues me. When I was in grade 12 I had two stories started one was two female vampires and one was two male vampires. (they were by request! lol) I have to say that the two male characters were a bit easier to write for.

   How about… Light romantic feminist erotica?? Challenge.. I THINK SO

2. Step 2

   Start with a plot and characters. Write characters that are alluring but not one-dimensional. Write erotic scenes as part of the story but not the entire story.

   - Plot and characters. The hardest part of writing an erotic novel. I can write a scene easy, using unidentified bodies that feel only whatever touch, caress they recieve but have little emotion out side of the actual sex action. This will be tough for me to do. In the next entry I will try to establish characters.  It’s hard because I want my character to be a strong female lead… I don’t want her to be a lesbian but I dont want her to be over shadowed by the male character. The male character will be the hardest to write.

3. Step 3

   Use descriptive, erotic language in areas of the book that are not erotic in nature in order to keep an undercurrent of sensuality.

   -Erotic language.. I will really have to take a look at words that are used in works that I enjoy. Keep everything sensual but only sexy when it needs to be. This is going to be tough to actually have a plot!

4. Step 4

   Create conflict. Create unlikely characters end up together, obstacles that keep them apart or something else to prolong the sexual tension.

   -What would prolong a femisnt protaganist from havin a relationship/sex with someone. What other things in the story could be erotic?

5. Step 5

   Vary the erotic scenes to keep them from fresh throughout the story. Be adventurous in your love scenes to differentiate your story from the many others in the genre.

   -Very em! but vanilla here and there.

6. Step 6

   Conclude with an upbeat ending, and tie up the loose ends that kept the characters apart.

   - up beat???? a happy ending.. I’ll have to see how the story progresses.

Which genre should I dare take on?

They do have an Erotic Fiction category.. Should I? Should I?

I have the most experience writing dirty filth LOL