Writers Duel!! Are you up for it?

[MiamiButch]

*Huffing back to the thread* Ok, so I forgot to issue time constraints, I was BUSY, ok??? lol Anyhoo, Ok, ya'll got till the end of February for this one, so get crackin'! Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go find me that kissing booth again! lol

[BlueMoonWolf]

Well, yeah, THAT and the fact that you almost took out my TONSILS with that cyber kiss! LOL ; ) LMAO Now THAT'S what I call MOTIVATING! lol

just gotta know what puts a spring in your step and an ejector seat under your butt

[BlueMoonWolf]

remember Feb has 29 days.....lets see if we can't get some inspiration tomorrow!

Happy Valentine's day everyone!!

[MiamiButch]

A Freudian Slip
or
"Pardon, what was that again?"


It was during Spring Semester, back in Junior High, me all of sixteen years old, and only a year out of the closet to my family, when one of my friends from school took it upon herself to try and get my hooked up with a freind of his that worked at the local IHOP. Now, at that age, I was more of an FFFF club member (Find 'em, Feel 'em, Fukk 'em, Forget 'em, for those of you who are wondering wtf ffff means. lol But my friend had been pestering me ALL winter about this girl, and since Spring had sprung, I guess my hormones finally kicked in, because I agreed to go have lunch on National Skip Day and go meet her as long as my friend introduced us properly (even back THEN I had manners!).
We settled on a Friday, of course, since I had gotten paid the day before from working at the local movie theater, I said to myself, who knows? Maybe she might wanna go to a movie after work? Hehehehehe...... Conniving little Scorpio that I was, movies meant one thing, Nookie and petting and possibly...... well, you know. I was dressed to the nines, a black muscle shirt (Back when I HAD the abs to show off) and a pair of Z Cavarrici's (anyone remember THOSE?) and of course, my black biker boots and not a single hair out of place. My friend sat us down in her section and when she came up to the table, I swear, I almost had my jaw hit the floor along with my eyeballs! Here in front of me, was the most beautiful girl I'd see in my sixteen years on the planet! Jet black slightly wavy hair to the middle of her back, porcelain skin, and her EYES! Her eyes were the color of a cloudless summer sky, with just a hint of seafoam green interspersed. And NO, they were NOT contacts, either!
My friend proceeded to introduce us, "Allesandra, this is my friend that I wanted to introduce you to, Irene, Irene, Meet Allesandra" I was still dumbstruck that I had taken so long to meet this gift of feminine beauty that the first thing that came out of my mouth was "Hello, Allesandra, nice to EAT you!" At this, one perfectly plucked eyebrow shot up, my hands shot up to my mouth as my brain translated what had come out of it, and tried to make my mouth stammer an apology, as she smirked and said, "I think it's a little early for that, but it's nice to MEET you, too." And then gave me a wink! My hormones did a happy jig, because I knew that my faux pas had not been taken to heart, but that there was enough interest there for a definate possibility! Well, we had lunch, my friend and I, she almost dying of laughter when she saw the look of horror on my face when I introduced myself, and afterwards, we (Allesandra and I) went to a movie, and my friend went to HER girlfriends house, happy with her matchmaking skills. All was fine between me and Allesandra until I decided I wanted to get serious. It's not that she didn't WANT to, it's that she got a LITTLE overenthusiastic about the jealousy part. I felt like I had a LO-Jack stuffed up my butt! Everywhere I went, she either showed up, or wanted to know, where I was, who I was with, what time I was getting home, If I was cheating on her, Did I love her, Blah, blah, blah. At sixteen, this is all a BIT much to handle, so I sat her down and told her that if she still wanted to be with me, she had to learn to trust me and to be confident in what I felt for her and what she felt for me. She took it as me trying to break up with her because I had someone else. Well, long story short, we dated a total of a year, and by the end of it, I had almost sworn off women forever. Luckily, I came back to my senses....... LOL

[Caracal]

Okay, I am at bit nervous, and new to this, but here it goes! Sorry it's so long - it had a life of its own!!

First date – well maybe it doesn’t really count as a “date” ...


You – so lost, so broken but so strong. I knew you from our ball team – a very scary place for me since I had no idea what I was doing on a ball field learning how to bat. I was always the one hiding at the back of the line in high school to make sure my turn at bat never came up. Our “coach” – not such a nice person – assigned you to help me. I expected ridicule and laughter, and instead received gentle attention which made me comfortable for the first time since I’d arrived. You made me feel safe and a miserable day of fear turned into one where I laughed and learned a skill I didn’t ever think I would have…

So now I knew you a little, and something drew me back to your side, time and time again. You were such a contradiction – strong physically, and sometimes tough, but sweet and funny at the same time. You seemed so confident on the outside, in the way you responded to the usual jokes and camaraderie on the team, but your soul pulled me in – a soul that screamed for love and safety.

I watched you move, and watched how you winced, how movements hurt you some days and not others. This didn’t fit with everything else as I knew you were in great physical shape from working with ropes and chain all day. One day as I gave you a shoulder rub to help with an old ball injury, I realized that your arm was covered in bruises – and as I started to become more aware and look more closely, I realized all of you was covered in bruises.

So now I knew why your soul cried out in pain to me, but didn’t know how to change it, or how to fix it. I knew you were with somebody, but didn’t know her at all. All I could do is be your friend, be somebody you could talk to, and hope that one day you would open up to me so that I could help.

Then came the party, the start-off to the official ball season. You asked if I was going. I offered a ride to you and your girlfriend of many years. When I picked you both up, the first thing I noticed was the flat of beer in her hands. The kind of cheap beer you only drink that much of if you have a drinking problem. The kind of drinking problem I knew only too well from my past dating history.

I watched as you spent the night avoiding trouble. Getting her drinks, making sure nobody spent too long paying attention to you, steering her away from potential conflict. Such a lot of mixed feelings for me... The wish to protect you and take you away from her – that tiny person who had so much rage and anger - that little person who was half your size but hurt you anyway because you would never think of hitting back. The wish to take you home with me where you would be safe forever. The wish to be close to you – the need to watch you move. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, but yet couldn’t keep them on you in case she noticed. I could hear her screaming expletives at the master of ceremonies at some point during the night and worried about you going home. I watched you play pool and felt your intense focus and energy and my heart sped up with desire and need. These were not easy feeling to reconcile. Fear for you, desire for you, the need to get you out of a bad place, and the wish to hold you against me….

The evening flowed into early morning. After midnight, as I was talking to friends, I realized it had been some time since I had heard that loud, angry voice. I looked for you both, but you were long gone. I left shortly after that, went home, and instead of going to bed, sat and thought about you. Wondered if you were okay, if you were home, if she had hurt you. Finally, I went to bed and fell asleep still worried.

2 am. The phone rings. I wake up and feel around for the phone...except it’s not my phone that’s ringing. It’s my roommate’s phone. But it’s 2am. Should I answer it? Should I check in case it’s a family emergency? Who would call at 2am?

I pick up the phone and it’s not for her – it’s you and you are calling for me… In the middle of the night… For no reason it seems at first. You say “hi…”, and I say “hi…” There is a pause, and then you say “how are you?” like it’s 2pm instead of 2am. I intend to say “fine, how are you?”, but instead my mouth opens and the words “where are you?” come out. You give me a street corner address in a bad part of the city. My heart stops.

My mind races frantically and all I can think is that we live in a very large city and you are on a street corner in a bad part of that city at 2am. I ask if you have anywhere to go, and you say “no”. I ask for directions and I run to my car. I have no idea where I’m going, but I’d go anywhere to find you and make sure nobody has hurt you. I drive as fast as I can to come and get you. This is not a normal thing for me – if you define “defensive driver”, you are describing me. I am careful and I always look for potential problems that could occur as I drive. I may speed, but only where it is safe to do so. Not this night – this night I race across the city, across narrow bridges with oncoming traffic and through large intersections with glowing yellow lights...

I reach the road you have said you are on, and as I drive down the road, I see the usual nightlife for this area – the people who live on the street and who I am not worried about, the drivers who have been drinking and who are weaving a bit as they drive too slowly down the road. I worry more though, as I see the usual drunken young men who are looking for trouble. I stress as I can’t see you, and I hope that they don’t realize that you are a woman, that your presence and posture will make them assume you are also a drunken young man out on the street this dark night.

I finally see you on the corner as I go by on the other side of the road. I pull a u-turn so that I can get to you as quickly as possible. I open the door and you get in. My heart stops its crazy race as I pull away from the curb and know that you are safe with me. I look at you and I want to cry, to cry in relief and to cry from the pain that is in your eyes. You have a cigarette burn on your cheek, and your eyes look so much older than 26.

I take you home. Home to my little basement suite. I’m a student and I don’t have much money – all I can offer to eat is some bread and home-canned salmon sent with love from my mum and dad (oh, and there’s some stale cereal in the cupboard). Later you tell me that my cupboards made you think of the rhyme about “Mother Hubbard”. My home is safe though. Safe from your girlfriend who doesn’t know my number or address.

We talk. We talk all night. All night as if it’s daytime. I am that person who needs sleep all the time. Who can’t get by without it. When I was little, I would wander off in the house and my parents would find me in my bed having a nap. This night sleep doesn’t matter and I don’t need it. We talk about life and about how you shouldn’t go back. We talk about your work and my school and about everything else under the sun.

We finally just can’t stay in the house anymore, and we go for a walk to the local park. It’s so early in the morning that nobody in this big city is up yet. We walk in a beautiful spring morning with the birds chirping and the green of the trees glowing in the early morning light. I feel like my life is starting a new chapter, like there’s this big, new, open world in front of me. As I walk beside you, I feel this connection I’ve never felt before. You feel so strong and good beside me, and I know that I am physically safe with you by my side. I know that I am strong and loving and that you will feel emotionally safe by my side. I have never felt this kind of fit with anybody before, and I hope that I can keep it, that you won’t leave and go back to your brutal life.

We head back to the house, and I start to get a bit nervous. I know you need to sleep; you are so tired you can hardly stand. Sleep involves beds though, which bring other things to mind. I am scared to allow you fully into my heart. I have recently been hurt badly and don’t want to be hurt again. I am not good at being physical without losing my heart. I know that you have already found a way into this heart of mine – the heart that I have sworn will be strong by itself instead of falling for somebody. I try to push it away by delaying any physical interaction with you. I know that if I touch you I will never be the same again…

I look for a way to make you feel safe, but keep my heart safe at the same time. I tuck you into my bed and I go to rest in my roommate’s bed since she is away at her girlfriend’s house. I drift off to sleep, happy that I have found a solution, even though this little voice in the back of my head tells me that this solution will not last long….

I hear your voice somewhere in my sleep, and I realize it’s coming from my room. I go in and you look at me with this lost look, and tell me that you can’t sleep. I look at you and can’t leave you there so lost and lonely. I put on layers to protect us both from the physical contact. Maybe if I don’t touch you then I won’t encourage this inevitable joining of hearts and bodies. Maybe then I won’t lose my heart and you won’t have to choose between your old life and this new one. Maybe I’ll be protected from your return to the life you already know – I am very aware that most people go back to those that hurt them. I put on a bra, t-shirt, underwear and pajamas and then come back to lie down beside you.

As we lie there together I feel like every single nerve in my body is on fire. I can feel the slightest movement of your body. Every time you move closer to me, it feels like my heart stops and I can’t breathe. I lie there, terrified by my body’s betrayal. How am I supposed to stay safe if I can’t stop my body from responding to your presence? I have no idea what to do.

You start to talk to me because you can’t sleep. I heave a big sigh of relief and sit up to talk. This way it’s not so bad. I can just pretend we are friends and I’m just helping you out. As we talk, I realize that you are favouring that sore shoulder again. I ask if you’d like me to rub it and I give you a back rub. I figure this is pretty safe, although I can’t ignore the feel of your strong muscles under my hands. I have done this before though, many times at the ball field, and others have as well, so this doesn’t feel scary. I finish and then realize that I am very tired, and that maybe sleep will be possible after-all.

You look at me and offer to give me a backrub in return. I say no. I know that if you touch me I won’t be able to hide it. I won’t be able to say no. I won’t be able to stop my response to you. I now that if you touch me – even once – the decision will be out of my hands.

I say “no, it’s okay – I’m fine” and you insist. I finally give in, thinking to myself that all the clothes I am wearing will keep us safe from this moment. Isn’t that why I put them on? Then I feel your hands on my back, slowly massaging me through the layers of clothing. I try so hard to be strong, but I can’t stop the moan that slips from my lips when your hands move from my back and slip under my protective layers. I can’t seem to feel anything but your hands, wanting, needing them to touch me. As you undo my bra, I try to say “stop”, but can’t make my mouth form the word… and as one hand slips from my naked back to cup my breast, all thought ends and I open myself to you, body and soul. I hope in that moment that I have not made a mistake, that I will not hurt from this surrender to something I hope will be everything that I want and need in life and love. I know, though as you hold me and turn me to kiss you, that I won’t regret this moment in time, regardless of the outcome….



This is our story, it started 11 years ago this May, and we expect it to continue many years into the future….

[GemmeFemme]

Okay, I am at bit nervous, and new to this, but here it goes! Sorry it's so long - it had a life of its own!!

First date – well maybe it doesn’t really count as a “date” ...


You – so lost, so broken but so strong. I knew you from our ball team – a very scary place for me since I had no idea what I was doing on a ball field learning how to bat. I was always the one hiding at the back of the line in high school to make sure my turn at bat never came up. Our “coach” – not such a nice person – assigned you to help me. I expected ridicule and laughter, and instead received gentle attention which made me comfortable for the first time since I’d arrived. You made me feel safe and a miserable day of fear turned into one where I laughed and learned a skill I didn’t ever think I would have…

So now I knew you a little, and something drew me back to your side, time and time again. You were such a contradiction – strong physically, and sometimes tough, but sweet and funny at the same time. You seemed so confident on the outside, in the way you responded to the usual jokes and camaraderie on the team, but your soul pulled me in – a soul that screamed for love and safety.

I watched you move, and watched how you winced, how movements hurt you some days and not others. This didn’t fit with everything else as I knew you were in great physical shape from working with ropes and chain all day. One day as I gave you a shoulder rub to help with an old ball injury, I realized that your arm was covered in bruises – and as I started to become more aware and look more closely, I realized all of you was covered in bruises.

So now I knew why your soul cried out in pain to me, but didn’t know how to change it, or how to fix it. I knew you were with somebody, but didn’t know her at all. All I could do is be your friend, be somebody you could talk to, and hope that one day you would open up to me so that I could help.

Then came the party, the start-off to the official ball season. You asked if I was going. I offered a ride to you and your girlfriend of many years. When I picked you both up, the first thing I noticed was the flat of beer in her hands. The kind of cheap beer you only drink that much of if you have a drinking problem. The kind of drinking problem I knew only too well from my past dating history.

I watched as you spent the night avoiding trouble. Getting her drinks, making sure nobody spent too long paying attention to you, steering her away from potential conflict. Such a lot of mixed feelings for me... The wish to protect you and take you away from her – that tiny person who had so much rage and anger - that little person who was half your size but hurt you anyway because you would never think of hitting back. The wish to take you home with me where you would be safe forever. The wish to be close to you – the need to watch you move. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, but yet couldn’t keep them on you in case she noticed. I could hear her screaming expletives at the master of ceremonies at some point during the night and worried about you going home. I watched you play pool and felt your intense focus and energy and my heart sped up with desire and need. These were not easy feeling to reconcile. Fear for you, desire for you, the need to get you out of a bad place, and the wish to hold you against me….

The evening flowed into early morning. After midnight, as I was talking to friends, I realized it had been some time since I had heard that loud, angry voice. I looked for you both, but you were long gone. I left shortly after that, went home, and instead of going to bed, sat and thought about you. Wondered if you were okay, if you were home, if she had hurt you. Finally, I went to bed and fell asleep still worried.

2 am. The phone rings. I wake up and feel around for the phone...except it’s not my phone that’s ringing. It’s my roommate’s phone. But it’s 2am. Should I answer it? Should I check in case it’s a family emergency? Who would call at 2am?

I pick up the phone and it’s not for her – it’s you and you are calling for me… In the middle of the night… For no reason it seems at first. You say “hi…”, and I say “hi…” There is a pause, and then you say “how are you?” like it’s 2pm instead of 2am. I intend to say “fine, how are you?”, but instead my mouth opens and the words “where are you?” come out. You give me a street corner address in a bad part of the city. My heart stops.

My mind races frantically and all I can think is that we live in a very large city and you are on a street corner in a bad part of that city at 2am. I ask if you have anywhere to go, and you say “no”. I ask for directions and I run to my car. I have no idea where I’m going, but I’d go anywhere to find you and make sure nobody has hurt you. I drive as fast as I can to come and get you. This is not a normal thing for me – if you define “defensive driver”, you are describing me. I am careful and I always look for potential problems that could occur as I drive. I may speed, but only where it is safe to do so. Not this night – this night I race across the city, across narrow bridges with oncoming traffic and through large intersections with glowing yellow lights...

I reach the road you have said you are on, and as I drive down the road, I see the usual nightlife for this area – the people who live on the street and who I am not worried about, the drivers who have been drinking and who are weaving a bit as they drive too slowly down the road. I worry more though, as I see the usual drunken young men who are looking for trouble. I stress as I can’t see you, and I hope that they don’t realize that you are a woman, that your presence and posture will make them assume you are also a drunken young man out on the street this dark night.

I finally see you on the corner as I go by on the other side of the road. I pull a u-turn so that I can get to you as quickly as possible. I open the door and you get in. My heart stops its crazy race as I pull away from the curb and know that you are safe with me. I look at you and I want to cry, to cry in relief and to cry from the pain that is in your eyes. You have a cigarette burn on your cheek, and your eyes look so much older than 26.

I take you home. Home to my little basement suite. I’m a student and I don’t have much money – all I can offer to eat is some bread and home-canned salmon sent with love from my mum and dad (oh, and there’s some stale cereal in the cupboard). Later you tell me that my cupboards made you think of the rhyme about “Mother Hubbard”. My home is safe though. Safe from your girlfriend who doesn’t know my number or address.

We talk. We talk all night. All night as if it’s daytime. I am that person who needs sleep all the time. Who can’t get by without it. When I was little, I would wander off in the house and my parents would find me in my bed having a nap. This night sleep doesn’t matter and I don’t need it. We talk about life and about how you shouldn’t go back. We talk about your work and my school and about everything else under the sun.

We finally just can’t stay in the house anymore, and we go for a walk to the local park. It’s so early in the morning that nobody in this big city is up yet. We walk in a beautiful spring morning with the birds chirping and the green of the trees glowing in the early morning light. I feel like my life is starting a new chapter, like there’s this big, new, open world in front of me. As I walk beside you, I feel this connection I’ve never felt before. You feel so strong and good beside me, and I know that I am physically safe with you by my side. I know that I am strong and loving and that you will feel emotionally safe by my side. I have never felt this kind of fit with anybody before, and I hope that I can keep it, that you won’t leave and go back to your brutal life.

We head back to the house, and I start to get a bit nervous. I know you need to sleep; you are so tired you can hardly stand. Sleep involves beds though, which bring other things to mind. I am scared to allow you fully into my heart. I have recently been hurt badly and don’t want to be hurt again. I am not good at being physical without losing my heart. I know that you have already found a way into this heart of mine – the heart that I have sworn will be strong by itself instead of falling for somebody. I try to push it away by delaying any physical interaction with you. I know that if I touch you I will never be the same again…

I look for a way to make you feel safe, but keep my heart safe at the same time. I tuck you into my bed and I go to rest in my roommate’s bed since she is away at her girlfriend’s house. I drift off to sleep, happy that I have found a solution, even though this little voice in the back of my head tells me that this solution will not last long….

I hear your voice somewhere in my sleep, and I realize it’s coming from my room. I go in and you look at me with this lost look, and tell me that you can’t sleep. I look at you and can’t leave you there so lost and lonely. I put on layers to protect us both from the physical contact. Maybe if I don’t touch you then I won’t encourage this inevitable joining of hearts and bodies. Maybe then I won’t lose my heart and you won’t have to choose between your old life and this new one. Maybe I’ll be protected from your return to the life you already know – I am very aware that most people go back to those that hurt them. I put on a bra, t-shirt, underwear and pajamas and then come back to lie down beside you.

As we lie there together I feel like every single nerve in my body is on fire. I can feel the slightest movement of your body. Every time you move closer to me, it feels like my heart stops and I can’t breathe. I lie there, terrified by my body’s betrayal. How am I supposed to stay safe if I can’t stop my body from responding to your presence? I have no idea what to do.

You start to talk to me because you can’t sleep. I heave a big sigh of relief and sit up to talk. This way it’s not so bad. I can just pretend we are friends and I’m just helping you out. As we talk, I realize that you are favouring that sore shoulder again. I ask if you’d like me to rub it and I give you a back rub. I figure this is pretty safe, although I can’t ignore the feel of your strong muscles under my hands. I have done this before though, many times at the ball field, and others have as well, so this doesn’t feel scary. I finish and then realize that I am very tired, and that maybe sleep will be possible after-all.

You look at me and offer to give me a backrub in return. I say no. I know that if you touch me I won’t be able to hide it. I won’t be able to say no. I won’t be able to stop my response to you. I now that if you touch me – even once – the decision will be out of my hands.

I say “no, it’s okay – I’m fine” and you insist. I finally give in, thinking to myself that all the clothes I am wearing will keep us safe from this moment. Isn’t that why I put them on? Then I feel your hands on my back, slowly massaging me through the layers of clothing. I try so hard to be strong, but I can’t stop the moan that slips from my lips when your hands move from my back and slip under my protective layers. I can’t seem to feel anything but your hands, wanting, needing them to touch me. As you undo my bra, I try to say “stop”, but can’t make my mouth form the word… and as one hand slips from my naked back to cup my breast, all thought ends and I open myself to you, body and soul. I hope in that moment that I have not made a mistake, that I will not hurt from this surrender to something I hope will be everything that I want and need in life and love. I know, though as you hold me and turn me to kiss you, that I won’t regret this moment in time, regardless of the outcome….



This is our story, it started 11 years ago this May, and we expect it to continue many years into the future….

What a great story!

[GemmeFemme]

A Freudian Slip
or
"Pardon, what was that again?"


It was during Spring Semester, back in Junior High, me all of sixteen years old, and only a year out of the closet to my family, when one of my friends from school took it upon herself to try and get my hooked up with a freind of his that worked at the local IHOP. Now, at that age, I was more of an FFFF club member (Find 'em, Feel 'em, Fukk 'em, Forget 'em, for those of you who are wondering wtf ffff means. lol But my friend had been pestering me ALL winter about this girl, and since Spring had sprung, I guess my hormones finally kicked in, because I agreed to go have lunch on National Skip Day and go meet her as long as my friend introduced us properly (even back THEN I had manners!).
We settled on a Friday, of course, since I had gotten paid the day before from working at the local movie theater, I said to myself, who knows? Maybe she might wanna go to a movie after work? Hehehehehe...... Conniving little Scorpio that I was, movies meant one thing, Nookie and petting and possibly...... well, you know. I was dressed to the nines, a black muscle shirt (Back when I HAD the abs to show off) and a pair of Z Cavarrici's (anyone remember THOSE?) and of course, my black biker boots and not a single hair out of place. My friend sat us down in her section and when she came up to the table, I swear, I almost had my jaw hit the floor along with my eyeballs! Here in front of me, was the most beautiful girl I'd see in my sixteen years on the planet! Jet black slightly wavy hair to the middle of her back, porcelain skin, and her EYES! Her eyes were the color of a cloudless summer sky, with just a hint of seafoam green interspersed. And NO, they were NOT contacts, either!
My friend proceeded to introduce us, "Allesandra, this is my friend that I wanted to introduce you to, Irene, Irene, Meet Allesandra" I was still dumbstruck that I had taken so long to meet this gift of feminine beauty that the first thing that came out of my mouth was "Hello, Allesandra, nice to EAT you!" At this, one perfectly plucked eyebrow shot up, my hands shot up to my mouth as my brain translated what had come out of it, and tried to make my mouth stammer an apology, as she smirked and said, "I think it's a little early for that, but it's nice to MEET you, too." And then gave me a wink! My hormones did a happy jig, because I knew that my faux pas had not been taken to heart, but that there was enough interest there for a definate possibility! Well, we had lunch, my friend and I, she almost dying of laughter when she saw the look of horror on my face when I introduced myself, and afterwards, we (Allesandra and I) went to a movie, and my friend went to HER girlfriends house, happy with her matchmaking skills. All was fine between me and Allesandra until I decided I wanted to get serious. It's not that she didn't WANT to, it's that she got a LITTLE overenthusiastic about the jealousy part. I felt like I had a LO-Jack stuffed up my butt! Everywhere I went, she either showed up, or wanted to know, where I was, who I was with, what time I was getting home, If I was cheating on her, Did I love her, Blah, blah, blah. At sixteen, this is all a BIT much to handle, so I sat her down and told her that if she still wanted to be with me, she had to learn to trust me and to be confident in what I felt for her and what she felt for me. She took it as me trying to break up with her because I had someone else. Well, long story short, we dated a total of a year, and by the end of it, I had almost sworn off women forever. Luckily, I came back to my senses....... LOL

That beauty came with a price, eh?

Good story!

[Hollylane]

The Shortest First Date..

I stepped off the plane with a bounce in my step. I had been excited for weeks about meeting the person I had spent 5 hours a day with online and on the telephone for the past month. I was under the impression that she was funny, charming, witty, and exciting. What I found in the crowded waiting area was a sour faced surly person who was rudely shoving people waiting for loved ones out of her way to get to the front of the pack. The look on her face alone nearly made me walk right past her to the nearest ticket counter for a quick return home. Unfortunately she recognized me, and a smile cracked her dour expression as she rushed over to me. I decided I’d come all this way, and I could at least relax and give her a chance after all of our long and deep conversations. Maybe she was just nervous.


I’ve always enjoyed the old fashioned side of life. I like a strong partner who knows that I’m willing and able to take care of myself, but that I also enjoy someone who steps up to the plate and helps a lady with her luggage. I’m always a lady, whether I’m moving furniture you can’t budge, or gushing over a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day. On that misty California day, I carried my own luggage out of the airport, put it in her trunk, and opened my own door.


On the two hour drive through heavy traffic in Ontario, I listened to her describe all of the traits she found wonderful about herself. She was an excellent singer, owned her own home (bought for her by her mother), was an accomplished cook, and so much more. At first I thought I was becoming carsick, but then I realized it was the egotistical self-appreciating monologue coming from the driver’s seat that was causing my extreme nausea. The nausea did not improve when she proudly told me that her mother has been supporting her all of her life. She’s 47 years old.


Finally, we arrived at her adorable bungalow, where I carried my luggage unaided into the spare room. As I walked past a closed bedroom door, I noticed a bright light shining underneath the door just as I was simultaneously hit with an overwhelming odor of Mary Jane. I could have gotten a contact high just from standing in the hallway. I’m not against marijuana, but I never intended to spend the night at the local dealer’s house. There was nothing recreational about the hot musky smell coming from under that door. After freshening up, we were about to leave for dinner, when a loud knock stopped us. She opened the door to her 16 year old nephew. She hugged him affectionately before handing him a large baggy stuffed with buds and ushering him back out the door without introduction. Oh lordy….things were not looking up. How could she supply her 16 year old nephew with pot without any thought to my presence there?

We went to a very nice restaurant, me in my black cocktail dress, her in her stained and wrinkled dress shirt. We were shown to a table, and before opening the menu she suggested that we go Dutch on the bill. Without waiting for an answer from me, she stopped the waiter and advised him we would be splitting the bill.


By the time we were enjoying a lovely crème briolette for dessert, I figured that she must be feeling as I did, that this was a stellar waste of time. I was wrong. She scooted her chair closer to mine, and started running her sticky fingers up and down my forearm, then tried pulling me in for a little smooch. I felt my eyes getting saucer shaped as I leaped up and asked the waiter where the ladies room was. I spent an inordinately long time in the rest room staring into the mirror and cursing quietly under my breath before returning to the table. I sat down, took a long drink of wine, and nearly choked to death when I heard what she said next.


“You know, you really are beautiful, I’m really glad you lost the weight before we met.”


I finished my glass of wine, blotted my lips, casually tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table, and simply said “Keep the change, keep the luggage, goodbye".

[GemmeFemme]

The Shortest First Date..

I stepped off the plane with a bounce in my step. I had been excited for weeks about meeting the person I had spent 5 hours a day with online and on the telephone for the past month. I was under the impression that she was funny, charming, witty, and exciting. What I found in the crowded waiting area was a sour faced surly person who was rudely shoving people waiting for loved ones out of her way to get to the front of the pack. The look on her face alone nearly made me walk right past her to the nearest ticket counter for a quick return home. Unfortunately she recognized me, and a smile cracked her dour expression as she rushed over to me. I decided I’d come all this way, and I could at least relax and give her a chance after all of our long and deep conversations. Maybe she was just nervous.


I’ve always enjoyed the old fashioned side of life. I like a strong partner who knows that I’m willing and able to take care of myself, but that I also enjoy someone who steps up to the plate and helps a lady with her luggage. I’m always a lady, whether I’m moving furniture you can’t budge, or gushing over a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day. On that misty California day, I carried my own luggage out of the airport, put it in her trunk, and opened my own door.


On the two hour drive through heavy traffic in Ontario, I listened to her describe all of the traits she found wonderful about herself. She was an excellent singer, owned her own home (bought for her by her mother), was an accomplished cook, and so much more. At first I thought I was becoming carsick, but then I realized it was the egotistical self-appreciating monologue coming from the driver’s seat that was causing my extreme nausea. The nausea did not improve when she proudly told me that her mother has been supporting her all of her life. She’s 47 years old.


Finally, we arrived at her adorable bungalow, where I carried my luggage unaided into the spare room. As I walked past a closed bedroom door, I noticed a bright light shining underneath the door just as I was simultaneously hit with an overwhelming odor of Mary Jane. I could have gotten a contact high just from standing in the hallway. I’m not against marijuana, but I never intended to spend the night at the local dealer’s house. There was nothing recreational about the hot musky smell coming from under that door. After freshening up, we were about to leave for dinner, when a loud knock stopped us. She opened the door to her 16 year old nephew. She hugged him affectionately before handing him a large baggy stuffed with buds and ushering him back out the door without introduction. Oh lordy….things were not looking up. How could she supply her 16 year old nephew with pot without any thought to my presence there?

We went to a very nice restaurant, me in my black cocktail dress, her in her stained and wrinkled dress shirt. We were shown to a table, and before opening the menu she suggested that we go Dutch on the bill. Without waiting for an answer from me, she stopped the waiter and advised him we would be splitting the bill.


By the time we were enjoying a lovely crème briolette for dessert, I figured that she must be feeling as I did, that this was a stellar waste of time. I was wrong. She scooted her chair closer to mine, and started running her sticky fingers up and down my forearm, then tried pulling me in for a little smooch. I felt my eyes getting saucer shaped as I leaped up and asked the waiter where the ladies room was. I spent an inordinately long time in the rest room staring into the mirror and cursing quietly under my breath before returning to the table. I sat down, took a long drink of wine, and nearly choked to death when I heard what she said next.


“You know, you really are beautiful, I’m really glad you lost the weight before we met.”


I finished my glass of wine, blotted my lips, casually tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table, and simply said “Keep the change, keep the luggage, goodbye".

Holy ignorance, Batman!

Good for you!

[Hollylane]

Thank you GemmeFemme, it felt good, and gave me a great reason to refresh my wardrobe!

[GemmeFemme]

Thank you GemmeFemme, it felt good, and gave me a great reason to refresh my wardrobe!

Well, Hell's Bells! I'm up for shopping!

[write14u]

A first meeting from a few years ago....


I drive to the house of a couple of friends who live a couple of hours from me. They're having a gathering -- some of the people there I would know, some I wouldn't. I'm just getting over a nasty cold, so I'm probably more low-key than normal. I arrive and greet my friends, then go through the rounds of introductions. I'm struck by this one woman who actually introduced herself by her screen name first.

Everyone has a few drinks, then hilarity ensues. Several of the folks are doing leg wrestling and getting insanely out of control. I just sit on the floor, propped against the fireplace, taking in everything, casting surreptitious glances at the lovely woman who caught my eye earlier in the night. I engage her in conversation as often as I can. She seems fascinated by my job as a sports writer, asking me about any possible sports celebs I may have interviewed. I trot out my Michael Jordan story. I tell her funny stories about interviewing icky men in nasty-smelling locker rooms.

Later in the evening, she gets up to go for a smoke. She searches in her bag for her lighter, can't find it. Goes outside anyway. I leap up, search my friends house frantically for a lighter and finally find matches. I run to the rescue with matches. I light the match and hold it to her cigarette, then stay and keep her company on the porch.

She tells me that I don't have to stay out there and keep her company. I tell her my pleasure. She says I didn't have to jump up to find matches and light her cigarette. I then utter the most heart-felt -- but cheesy -- line in my life. I tell her, "The day I won't get up for a beautiful woman, you might as well lay me in the grave." Amazingly she's charmed.

Later that evening, as she's leaving, I stand outside with another friend (also interested) and wait her out for alone time with the lovely lady. The other person finally leaves, yet I can't get up the nerve to ask her out. (I was new at this.)
A day later, I ask her out via the computer (much safer). She agrees to go out with me.
A day after that, I convince her to let me take her out to lunch ahead of the date. I arrive at 10 a.m. and off and on, don't go home until midnight.
Three days later, we go on our first official date. I take her to the drive-in movies. We have a good time, then go back to her house. She wants me to stay, but says, hey, we're not going to have sex. I'm fine with that. I had a great time, just enjoy being with her. We lie side by side, talking, holding hands as we wind down. It's cozy and I lean over and attempt to give her a small kiss. She pulls back. I draw back, worried I offended her, start apologizing. We lie quietly for about 30 seconds, then she rolls on top of me and starts kissing ME. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

[GemmeFemme]

A first meeting from a few years ago....


I drive to the house of a couple of friends who live a couple of hours from me. They're having a gathering -- some of the people there I would know, some I wouldn't. I'm just getting over a nasty cold, so I'm probably more low-key than normal. I arrive and greet my friends, then go through the rounds of introductions. I'm struck by this one woman who actually introduced herself by her screen name first.

Everyone has a few drinks, then hilarity ensues. Several of the folks are doing leg wrestling and getting insanely out of control. I just sit on the floor, propped against the fireplace, taking in everything, casting surreptitious glances at the lovely woman who caught my eye earlier in the night. I engage her in conversation as often as I can. She seems fascinated by my job as a sports writer, asking me about any possible sports celebs I may have interviewed. I trot out my Michael Jordan story. I tell her funny stories about interviewing icky men in nasty-smelling locker rooms.

Later in the evening, she gets up to go for a smoke. She searches in her bag for her lighter, can't find it. Goes outside anyway. I leap up, search my friends house frantically for a lighter and finally find matches. I run to the rescue with matches. I light the match and hold it to her cigarette, then stay and keep her company on the porch.

She tells me that I don't have to stay out there and keep her company. I tell her my pleasure. She says I didn't have to jump up to find matches and light her cigarette. I then utter the most heart-felt -- but cheesy -- line in my life. I tell her, "The day I won't get up for a beautiful woman, you might as well lay me in the grave." Amazingly she's charmed.

Later that evening, as she's leaving, I stand outside with another friend (also interested) and wait her out for alone time with the lovely lady. The other person finally leaves, yet I can't get up the nerve to ask her out. (I was new at this.)
A day later, I ask her out via the computer (much safer). She agrees to go out with me.
A day after that, I convince her to let me take her out to lunch ahead of the date. I arrive at 10 a.m. and off and on, don't go home until midnight.
Three days later, we go on our first official date. I take her to the drive-in movies. We have a good time, then go back to her house. She wants me to stay, but says, hey, we're not going to have sex. I'm fine with that. I had a great time, just enjoy being with her. We lie side by side, talking, holding hands as we wind down. It's cozy and I lean over and attempt to give her a small kiss. She pulls back. I draw back, worried I offended her, start apologizing. We lie quietly for about 30 seconds, then she rolls on top of me and starts kissing ME. I'll leave the rest to your imagination.

Awwww, very sweet.

[Caracal]

The Shortest First Date..

I stepped off the plane with a bounce in my step. I had been excited for weeks about meeting the person I had spent 5 hours a day with online and on the telephone for the past month. I was under the impression that she was funny, charming, witty, and exciting. What I found in the crowded waiting area was a sour faced surly person who was rudely shoving people waiting for loved ones out of her way to get to the front of the pack. The look on her face alone nearly made me walk right past her to the nearest ticket counter for a quick return home. Unfortunately she recognized me, and a smile cracked her dour expression as she rushed over to me. I decided I’d come all this way, and I could at least relax and give her a chance after all of our long and deep conversations. Maybe she was just nervous.


I’ve always enjoyed the old fashioned side of life. I like a strong partner who knows that I’m willing and able to take care of myself, but that I also enjoy someone who steps up to the plate and helps a lady with her luggage. I’m always a lady, whether I’m moving furniture you can’t budge, or gushing over a dozen roses on Valentine’s Day. On that misty California day, I carried my own luggage out of the airport, put it in her trunk, and opened my own door.


On the two hour drive through heavy traffic in Ontario, I listened to her describe all of the traits she found wonderful about herself. She was an excellent singer, owned her own home (bought for her by her mother), was an accomplished cook, and so much more. At first I thought I was becoming carsick, but then I realized it was the egotistical self-appreciating monologue coming from the driver’s seat that was causing my extreme nausea. The nausea did not improve when she proudly told me that her mother has been supporting her all of her life. She’s 47 years old.


Finally, we arrived at her adorable bungalow, where I carried my luggage unaided into the spare room. As I walked past a closed bedroom door, I noticed a bright light shining underneath the door just as I was simultaneously hit with an overwhelming odor of Mary Jane. I could have gotten a contact high just from standing in the hallway. I’m not against marijuana, but I never intended to spend the night at the local dealer’s house. There was nothing recreational about the hot musky smell coming from under that door. After freshening up, we were about to leave for dinner, when a loud knock stopped us. She opened the door to her 16 year old nephew. She hugged him affectionately before handing him a large baggy stuffed with buds and ushering him back out the door without introduction. Oh lordy….things were not looking up. How could she supply her 16 year old nephew with pot without any thought to my presence there?

We went to a very nice restaurant, me in my black cocktail dress, her in her stained and wrinkled dress shirt. We were shown to a table, and before opening the menu she suggested that we go Dutch on the bill. Without waiting for an answer from me, she stopped the waiter and advised him we would be splitting the bill.


By the time we were enjoying a lovely crème briolette for dessert, I figured that she must be feeling as I did, that this was a stellar waste of time. I was wrong. She scooted her chair closer to mine, and started running her sticky fingers up and down my forearm, then tried pulling me in for a little smooch. I felt my eyes getting saucer shaped as I leaped up and asked the waiter where the ladies room was. I spent an inordinately long time in the rest room staring into the mirror and cursing quietly under my breath before returning to the table. I sat down, took a long drink of wine, and nearly choked to death when I heard what she said next.


“You know, you really are beautiful, I’m really glad you lost the weight before we met.”


I finished my glass of wine, blotted my lips, casually tossed a hundred dollar bill on the table, and simply said “Keep the change, keep the luggage, goodbye".

What a nightmare!!! So many awful things all at once - how could it get worse??? I'm so glad you left - and what a great exit!

[Caracal]

What a great story!

GemmeFemme -

I just wanted to say thanks for your comment on my story! I was a bit nervous putting it in since I haven't ever put any writing on this site. I thought the "it really happeed" requirement might make it easier since I find it easier to write about stuff that actually took place.

Thanks for the really nice comment!

[GemmeFemme]

GemmeFemme -

I just wanted to say thanks for your comment on my story! I was a bit nervous putting it in since I haven't ever put any writing on this site. I thought the "it really happeed" requirement might make it easier since I find it easier to write about stuff that actually took place.

Thanks for the really nice comment!

Awww, don't be nervous. We don't bite...much.

[write14u]

Thank you GemmeFemme, it felt good, and gave me a great reason to refresh my wardrobe!

Way to go. Life's way too short to put up with inconsiderate buffoons. Women should expect to be treated nicely.

[write14u]

OK, another "first date"...this time with someone I'd been talking to on the phone for two months. (I did write a story about this if anyone is interested in that).

New Orleans airport and I'm running a few minutes late, trying to find where I'm supposed to be. She has the advantage, having already chosen a spot behind a post from which to observe. She sees me -- wearing my baseball hat as we had designated earlier. Apparently I don't look like an axe murderer, so she comes out from hiding. I take her bags and carry them out to my truck. Open the door for her and start to shut it when she reminds me of a hello kiss I had promised. I was shy and gonna skip it, but at her request, I leaned in for a quick peck.

We drive to the hotel, but our room isn't ready, so we leave bags and go for food, relishing the taste of authentic Cajun cuisine. We walk deeper into the Quarter and the French Market, the lunch having put to rest our initial nervousness with each other.

As we walk into the French Market, I guide her with a hand at the small of her back, enjoying the feel of skin because of her short shirt. As we walk through the Market, I touch her shoulder, her hand, to claim her attention. She beams when I remember to buy things for her children. We're emboldened as we become more comfortable and the touches become more frequent.

We drift back to our hotel and get settled in. I pull her too me and kiss her like I'd been wanting to for hours. Everything build, we're on the bed, enjoying each other. I pull back, tell her that if she wanted to enjoy more of New Orleans than this room, we'd better stop now. We go to Pat O'Brien's, have our picture made, drink Hurricanes. We take our Hurricanes and sit on the bank of the Mississippi, enjoying the breeze and watching the barges move up and down the river.

We eat dinner, then go for a carriage ride, pleasantly tipsy. Then it's back to the hotel room. We spend the rest of the night making love, includiing out on the foliage-encased balcony, trying our damnedest to stay quiet.
Needless to say, I never looked at New Orleans the same again after that.

[Fallon]

OK, another "first date"...this time with someone I'd been talking to on the phone for two months. (I did write a story about this if anyone is interested in that).

New Orleans airport and I'm running a few minutes late, trying to find where I'm supposed to be. She has the advantage, having already chosen a spot behind a post from which to observe. She sees me -- wearing my baseball hat as we had designated earlier. Apparently I don't look like an axe murderer, so she comes out from hiding. I take her bags and carry them out to my truck. Open the door for her and start to shut it when she reminds me of a hello kiss I had promised. I was shy and gonna skip it, but at her request, I leaned in for a quick peck.

We drive to the hotel, but our room isn't ready, so we leave bags and go for food, relishing the taste of authentic Cajun cuisine. We walk deeper into the Quarter and the French Market, the lunch having put to rest our initial nervousness with each other.

As we walk into the French Market, I guide her with a hand at the small of her back, enjoying the feel of skin because of her short shirt. As we walk through the Market, I touch her shoulder, her hand, to claim her attention. She beams when I remember to buy things for her children. We're emboldened as we become more comfortable and the touches become more frequent.

We drift back to our hotel and get settled in. I pull her too me and kiss her like I'd been wanting to for hours. Everything build, we're on the bed, enjoying each other. I pull back, tell her that if she wanted to enjoy more of New Orleans than this room, we'd better stop now. We go to Pat O'Brien's, have our picture made, drink Hurricanes. We take our Hurricanes and sit on the bank of the Mississippi, enjoying the breeze and watching the barges move up and down the river.

We eat dinner, then go for a carriage ride, pleasantly tipsy. Then it's back to the hotel room. We spend the rest of the night making love, includiing out on the foliage-encased balcony, trying our damnedest to stay quiet.
Needless to say, I never looked at New Orleans the same again after that.

Love it!

I have a Pat O'Brien's Hurricane glass full of quarters sitting on top of my book shelf. I can't wait to go back.


Thanks for sharing.

[write14u]

Love it!

I have a Pat O'Brien's Hurricane glass full of quarters sitting on top of my book shelf. I can't wait to go back.


Thanks for sharing.

I've been to New Orleans a bunch of times for Mardi Gras and other things. I used to have a ton of Pat O'Brien glasses, although I may be down to about 3 now. But that trip definitely produced my favorite memories.

[write14u]

OK, I'll leave you with one more first date.

I drove to meet a woman I had been talking to online, on the phone, in sexy texts. I was nervous as all get-out because this was about as close as I had ever been to a real true first date. I had a goofy-looking stuffed animal in my pocket, a small gift, you know, as I waited for her at the door of the restaurant.

She arrived and we hugged and I gave her the goofy-looking thing, opened the door to the sushi restaurant. Dinner was nice with a beer, sushi, laughter, talking, just getting to know each other more.

Afterward, we couldn't decide what to do, but finally opted for a local park and a quick walk. First, there was a playground. So we sat in the swings and talked. After a bit, I pushed her while she was swinging, then we stopped and went for a walk. I was too shy to take her hand as we were walking but we kept "bumping."

We threw rocks into the lake and there was this pretty trellis covered in honeysuckle. I'm a country girl and love honeysuckle, so we trekked to the trellis to smell the honeysuckle. She kinda leaned in close enough to kiss me (since I'm slow that way), and I closed the distance for our first kiss, very sweet. We kissed for a while, then walked back to my car.

At this point, it was pretty late and we had the park to ourselves. We started kissing and kissing and the next thing we knew, we had dented the front side panel of my car! LOL Needless to say, I definitely had pleasant memories every time I saw my dent.

And now I'll quit sharing first dates (I think I only have maybe two more to tell anyway...LOL)

[Hollylane]

What a nightmare!!! So many awful things all at once - how could it get worse??? I'm so glad you left - and what a great exit!

Just saw this post..Thank you! It was a nightmare, and I even left out a few gory details..

I'm going to miss the end of the month and may not be able to check on the end of this round until mid-week next week. Everything has been awesome so far! Great writing all! You all make me sorry that I missed so many opportunities for reading great stories and writing a few of my own during my long absence...

[BlueMoonWolf]

Just saw this post..Thank you! It was a nightmare, and I even left out a few gory details..

I'm going to miss the end of the month and may not be able to check on the end of this round until mid-week next week. Everything has been awesome so far! Great writing all! You all make me sorry that I missed so many opportunities for reading great stories and writing a few of my own during my long absence...

Hey Hollylane!

Ya know we might be able to sweet talk Miami into extending the deadline. Apparently kisses gets him all flustered and we might be able to wrangle a few extra days.

Blue

[Hollylane]

Hey Hollylane!

Ya know we might be able to sweet talk Miami into extending the deadline. Apparently kisses gets him all flustered and we might be able to wrangle a few extra days.

Blue

Aww thank you Blue! I already posted one for this Writer's Duel, so no need to extend the deadline. I do appreciate that you were so kind to offer to do that. I was just referring to the fact that I will not be able to read any final admissions for this Duel, and I wanted to make sure I told everyone that I enjoyed the ones that have already been posted. Don't let that stop you from handing out the kisses, I'm sure they will not be met with complaints!

[MiamiButch]

Blue, honey, you get to pick the winner on this one, they're all so good, I can't make up my mind as to which is the winner. Now, for your next assignment, if you choose to accept it, is..... A love letter to a lost love. Feel free to be bitter, funny, ascerbic, ironic, sarcastic or just plain broken hearted. This is your chance to "Let it all out" per se. No real names, just in case, I don't want anyone breaking down my door for this idea, ok? lol Besides, I"M not takin' any chances in case MY ex reads MY post on this! lol Since March is already on it's sixth day, I'll extend the time limit till the begining of May. Plenty of time for you all to dredge your souls for all that hidden poison you've had inside. Good healing and great writing to you all!

[BlueMoonWolf]

Blue, honey, you get to pick the winner on this one, they're all so good, I can't make up my mind as to which is the winner. Now, for your next assignment, if you choose to accept it, is..... A love letter to a lost love. Feel free to be bitter, funny, ascerbic, ironic, sarcastic or just plain broken hearted. This is your chance to "Let it all out" per se. No real names, just in case, I don't want anyone breaking down my door for this idea, ok? lol Besides, I"M not takin' any chances in case MY ex reads MY post on this! lol Since March is already on it's sixth day, I'll extend the time limit till the begining of May. Plenty of time for you all to dredge your souls for all that hidden poison you've had inside. Good healing and great writing to you all!

*passes Miami the O2 mask* Miami.... honey..... you don't PICK the winner. You ask a question... the people that wrote for the feb challenge guess at the answer, whomever is closest wins and gets to set the topic for March... breathe deep.... get some more O2 going.

So what shall your question be?

Our 3 contestants will be

Hollylane,
write14u,
Caracal

[BlueMoonWolf]

Okay so I talked with Miami today and I am going to post his question..

How much did Miami pay for his new chickmobile? Guess between 1000 and 2000 buckaroos.

Our guessers are

Hollylane,
write14u,
and Caracal

[MiamiButch]

See what happens when you kiss me?? All the oxygen rushes out of my brain, and I get stuck on stupid! lol Thanks for being such a sweet friend, now pass me that oxygen mask again, I think I'm getting dizzy.... LOL

[CandyGirl7]

So I haven't really gotten back around to writing on this story due to me having to study and prepare myself for the boards. I love to write stories and I haven't really been in the mood to do them since my junior year in highschool, which by then I had probably finished 20-30 stories that I have no collection of anymore, lol. Anyhow I figured I'd share what I have so far and I promise that it's in it's working progress, just won't be continued on until after I get through my boards at the end of the month. So here is the link:

[html]<div style="background:#FFFFFF;padding:6px;width:350px;border:1px solid #CBCBCB;"><table width="100%" cellpadding="2"><tr><td width="60" valign="top"><a href="<A href="http://www.writerscafe.org/link/193388/"><img">http://www.writerscafe.org/link/193388/"><img src="http://www.writerscafe.org/images/web/no_image_tiny.png" alt="" border="0" align="absmiddle" style="border:1px solid #CBCBCB;padding:4px;" /></a></td><td><a href="<A href="http://www.writerscafe.org/link/193388/"><font">http://www.writerscafe.org/link/193388/"><font size="5" color="#6189C7" face="Trebuchet MS">You've Stole My Heart</font></a><br /><font size="1" color="#A5A5A5">A Book by Candy</font><br /></td></tr></table><img src="http://www.writerscafe.org/images/we...uote_start.png" alt=""" border="0" style="margin-left:6px;" /> <h5>When two girls leave college to expand their lives in the big town of Houston, Tx and have their lovers return back into their lives at the least expecting times, do they go back or continue to move on?</h5> <img src="http://www.writerscafe.org/images/we.../quote_end.png" alt=""" border="0" /><br /></div>[\html]

[write14u]

I'm going to guess 1750. And I like the assignment that MiamiButch tossed out.

[Caracal]

I think I'll go with 1560...

[GemmeFemme]

Blue, honey, you get to pick the winner on this one, they're all so good, I can't make up my mind as to which is the winner. Now, for your next assignment, if you choose to accept it, is..... A love letter to a lost love. Feel free to be bitter, funny, ascerbic, ironic, sarcastic or just plain broken hearted. This is your chance to "Let it all out" per se. No real names, just in case, I don't want anyone breaking down my door for this idea, ok? lol Besides, I"M not takin' any chances in case MY ex reads MY post on this! lol Since March is already on it's sixth day, I'll extend the time limit till the begining of May. Plenty of time for you all to dredge your souls for all that hidden poison you've had inside. Good healing and great writing to you all!

Ooooh, I hope I can get my chit together for this one. This sounds fabulous and surprisingly easy to accomplish.

[BlueMoonWolf]

See what happens when you kiss me?? All the oxygen rushes out of my brain, and I get stuck on stupid! lol Thanks for being such a sweet friend, now pass me that oxygen mask again, I think I'm getting dizzy.... LOL

Oh honey I don't think that it's the O2 running out of your head, maybe your blood rushing out of your brain....oh oh wait!!! Miami you are suppose to breathe through your nose!! *hands over the O2 mask*

So I haven't really gotten back around to writing on this story due to me having to study and prepare myself for the boards. I love to write stories and I haven't really been in the mood to do them since my junior year in highschool, which by then I had probably finished 20-30 stories that I have no collection of anymore, lol. Anyhow I figured I'd share what I have so far and I promise that it's in it's working progress, just won't be continued on until after I get through my boards at the end of the month. So here is the link:

[html]<div style="background:#FFFFFF;padding:6px;width:350px;border:1px solid #CBCBCB;"><table width="100%" cellpadding="2"><tr><td width="60" valign="top"><a href="<A href="http://www.writerscafe.org/link/193388/"><img">http://www.writerscafe.org/link/193388/"><img src="http://www.writerscafe.org/images/web/no_image_tiny.png" alt="" border="0" align="absmiddle" style="border:1px solid #CBCBCB;padding:4px;" /></a></td><td><a href="<A href="http://www.writerscafe.org/link/193388/"><font">http://www.writerscafe.org/link/193388/"><font size="5" color="#6189C7" face="Trebuchet MS">You've Stole My Heart</font></a><br /><font size="1" color="#A5A5A5">A Book by Candy</font><br /></td></tr></table><img src="http://www.writerscafe.org/images/we...uote_start.png" alt=""" border="0" style="margin-left:6px;" /> <h5>When two girls leave college to expand their lives in the big town of Houston, Tx and have their lovers return back into their lives at the least expecting times, do they go back or continue to move on?</h5> <img src="http://www.writerscafe.org/images/we.../quote_end.png" alt=""" border="0" /><br /></div>[\html]

Hey Candy!

I tried all the links that lit up but still didn't get to your stories. could you just post the link without the html (if you click on the globe you can just drop the addy in there. Was this story on the topic of True Valentine stories?

I'm going to guess 1750. And I like the assignment that MiamiButch tossed out.

Hiya write!

well if you win, I am sure Miami wouldn't mind you taking the assignment for your setting the challenge.

I think I'll go with 1560...

YAY one more guesser!

Ooooh, I hope I can get my chit together for this one. This sounds fabulous and surprisingly easy to accomplish.

lol it does, but whomever wins might set a different topic too or keep Miami's... wow this is like the Oscars.... and the winner is........... not yet still one more guesser.

[BlueMoonWolf]

if holly doesn't guess by midnight tommorrow we will go on with the winner

[GemmeFemme]

*tick tock, tick tock*

[BlueMoonWolf]

LOL Gemmei i was coming honest

The closest is write14u!

You now have a choice write.... you can keep Miami's topic... you can add extra challenges to Miami's...Or you can create your own.

So what's it going to be because i think Gemme is ready to bean someone with that clock of hers

[GemmeFemme]

LOL Gemmei i was coming honest

The closest is write14u!

You now have a choice write.... you can keep Miami's topic... you can add extra challenges to Miami's...Or you can create your own.

So what's it going to be because i think Gemme is ready to bean someone with that clock of hers

Only if they would like it.



I like options.

[BlueMoonWolf]

LMAO Gemmie!

[write14u]

OK....Newest topic for the challenge (and apologies for the delay):

I'm fascinated with time travel, so let's have a look at time travel, while incorporating MiamiButch's idea about lost loves.

Your challenge...if you choose to accept.....

Is to write poem/story/etc/etc/anything about traveling back in time to find the love of your life OR a lost love. You must be specific on the time travel portion. It can't just be poof. You have to come up with at least a wardrobe to step through or something.

Deadline for this is my birthday...March 29. (presents for me are optional!)

Also, if you prefer to just write a love letter to a lost love as MiamiButch put out there, feel free.

Have fun!

[BlueMoonWolf]

Cool Write thanks for giving us our challenge!