Welcome back! We're here at the fourth round of the Smut Marathon. The contest started with 15 writers, and is now down to 10. This poll will determine the Reader's Choice and, unfortunately, the writer who won't be moving on to the next challenge. (Truly, that's the hardest part of the contest for me. I think you're all fabulous writers!) Celebrity Guest Judge, Sommer Marsden, will choose her favorite story to win a letter pendant from Gwen Delicious.
For Challenge #4, I asked the writers to pen a sexy letter—I love stories in letter form. (I was a sucker for Griffin and Sabine.) Let me say, the writers surpassed my every expectation. These letters are varied, unusual, erotic, and funny!
The poll will run until midnight on Friday, August 20th. Please tell your friends, family, close strangers to stop by and vote!
Entry #1: Oopsie
Dear John,
Enclosed is a DVD I’m sure you won’t want to miss. It’s what you were always hoping I’d do after all.
You thought I was a prude, but I was just waiting for the right man. You see, my new lover understands me like you’ve never even tried to. Take this film, for example. I told you I’d never do one, or that I’d never give anal sex a go. Wanna guess what’s on this DVD?
So thank you, John, for breaking up with me. I’ve finally found the man of my dreams, the one who can make me come with just the slide of his fingers over my clit or a well-placed lick. He’s managed to unlock my deepest fantasies, and boy, have we had fun over the past weeks!
You wouldn’t believe how good it is when he thrusts into me so deep I don’t know where he ends and I begin. Or, when he fucks me with our fave toy at the same time… Mmm, I’m getting wet just thinking about it. He’s so unbelievably good at this.
Let me tell you, I never knew sex before him!
So, anyway, John, have a nice life, enjoy the film and see you next Sunday for your parents’ wedding anniversary.
Ellen
PS: Your brother says hi! He was really happy to hear he’s so much bigger than you. And so was I…
Entry #2: Typing Skills
Harlowe Montgomery
Har-Mont Controls
September 20
Ken Pickens
Pickens Switches
Kenneth:
You probably regard our conversation of June 12 as another "strategic blunder," to use the phrase your attorney coined a few years ago about the loophole that allowed you to take Har-Mont's trade secrets when you left. No doubt you see the coincidence of finding me at a bar, deep enough in my cups to brag to you about Ms. Harrison's skills, secretarial and otherwise, as another stroke of your good fortune. I believe I characterized dear Matty as "a triathlete in the sack," "a filthy talker with a voice like Viagra," "a spitfire who swallows," "loyal to a good man with a big expense account and bigger dick," things like that. Crude, yes, but all true. You said she must be dumb; a fairer man would have jumped in to say how amazingly wicked her mind is, but instead I nodded along.
Since you hired Matty away, I've missed having her around the office. I understand you're betting everything on a November product launch, and certainly I know when I was overly busy she was sweet succor: a personal assistant so devoted, available at all hours, naked and unattended in your private office until you need her.
Anyway, good luck with the November thing. I wanted to tell you we're hosting a big new product announcement event Monday; feel free to stop by and see some familiar faces.
Best regards,
Harlowe
HM/mh
Entry #3: Invoice
Dear Brian:
Rather than getting my possessions back after this breakup, I have proposed a solution that should save time and emotional difficulty. I request that you send $500 in order to repay me for the couch that you broke two months ago.
I suppose you could argue that we broke it, as I was riding you with all my strength when the frame snapped and the leg went out, but really, it’s your fault. If you hadn’t pinned me to the wall when you walked in the door, if you hadn’t bitten my lips as you kissed me, if you hadn’t reached under my skirt, ripped away my panties, and fingered me until I collapsed, I could have waited get to the bedroom. But you whipped me into a desperate frenzy, and I could not stand the thought of walking all the way through the house. I had no option but to ride you then and there, until the couch collapsed. The jolt as we hit the floor was perfect - your cock hit my G-spot so hard that suddenly I was coming, screaming amidst the pile of cushions. And of course, I couldn’t just stop there - I was so crazed, I had to keep going until you were done, plywood beams snapping as you exploded.
Please send payment as soon as possible, in order that we may both heal and move on with our lives. I will always cherish the time we spent together, but the time has come to start a new life with a new couch.
Fondly,
Olivia
Entry #4: A Bit of a Bitch...
Dear New Neighbours across street (No.27),
Sorry I haven't said hello properly, and apologise that my first words are a letter of complaint.
I refer to the night... well, every night recently, where (owing to summer humidity) I had my windows open, as do yourselves. Now I'm as open-minded as anyone but the incessant sounds of your love-making... in fact shameless, downright nasty fucking... are keeping me awake, and I do work long hours being *between boyfriends*.
I'm awed by your bedroom vocabulary (learning many new terms), and am not the quiet type myself but neither wanting to broadcast publically exacting, explicit details of any sex I'm having. That's what gossip's for.
While I can appreciate "Take it deep, you fucking cumslut whore!" and "Stick your dick in rough... split me in two, you animal!" etc. accompanied by slap-happy spanking and tortured bedsprings plus, going by the squelches, an unhealthy amount of lube, I can only offer a bit of a bitch in return.
So, next time you want to be at it like porn-stars in heat for money-shot time, could I please suggest you... open your curtains so I can also learn a few... okay, perhaps lots more... positions and things, for when I do meet *Mr Right* (or *Mr Right Size for the Moment*).
Meanwhile, I've had to use my vibe quite exhaustively because of your arousing dialogues, to get some sleep. Shame on you both.
Yours indecently,
Katherine (bitch at no.24)
PS: Not into threesomes, are you...?
Entry #5: Not-So-Cordially Yours
Dear Asshole:
I can’t believe that you’ve done this to me. What gives you the right to ruin sex with any other man? Where do you get off being good enough to get me off six times in one session?
How do you think that I’m going to manage to look at another man’s cock and NOT think of your hard length pressing against my clit as you lie on top of me, teasing my dripping pussy before you enter?
My nipples cry for your touch, as much as it pisses me off. You know where to rub, to flick, to circle. Only you have been able to cause me to moan in heat and release.
I’m so pissed at you I would scream...if it didn’t remind of me of how you had me screaming your name, over and over, as you fucked me sideways, backwards and over the top of the moon.
I’d rather be mad at you than recall your smooth cock pounding into my aching cunt. I’d rather try to hate you than spend my days dreaming about your talented tongue as you licked me clean after shooting off over my freshly shaven mound, making me come so hard I almost bit through my lip.
I think I’ll try and hate you. It’s easier than using my fingers to fuck myself at night in a sad, imitated but never duplicated attempt to bring myself off the way you did.
You fucker.
Thanks for ruining me.
Entry #6: Dear Dick,
By the time you read this I’ll be gone. If I looked you in the eye I don’t think I’d have the strength to do this. I’d just want to hold you.
Dick, I’ve known you all my life. They’ve been wonderful years, but you know as well as I do we’ve drifted apart. We want different things. I’m moving on, and it’s time you let me go.
Please don’t think I’m just palming you off. You’ve stood up for me time after time. I think the problem is you simply don’t know when to stop. I know I’m a better man when you’re not crowding me. I love you, Dick, but you need help.
You’ll probably blame my promotion, but that’s only part of it. I’ve felt this way a long time. Now I’m working for someone new, someone exciting, who has the same career objectives I do. I know how this sounds, but honestly, it’s not what you think.
Her name is Alina. You’d like her, Dick. She’s young, she’s sexy, she brings my senses to life. And her girlfriend is gorgeous. You see my dilemma? I know you, Dick. If I asked her to meet you, you’d just embarrass me. I really need to focus on my work now.
I truly am sorry, Dick. I’ve tried to talk to you but you never see things my way. You always were so one-eyed.
So long, Dick. We’ll always have Lubbock.
Love always,
Martin
Entry #7: Homecoming
My beautiful one;
I hope you enjoyed the letters I left you, and that you’ve enjoyed the fantasies in each. The weeks without you were difficult and in anticipation of arriving home, I have specific requests for this evening:
- Keep your earpiece and phone at hand. While I’m driving, I want to pour images of all the nasty things I'm going to do to you directly into your brain.
- Draw a hot bath as soon as you get home, with plenty of the herbal salts you love. You may soak as long as you like under two conditions – one, you make that delightful pussy completely smooth for me and, two, your hands may not stop until you have come. Imagine that I am there, bathing you. Stroke yourself as I would, and come for me as I whisper in your ear.
- After your bath, daub my favorite perfume on your inner thighs. I adore that scent mixed with yours, and I intend to spend a great deal of time savoring it this evening.
- There is a red box in the corner of my closet. Put on the corset and stockings inside. Lock the collar around your lovely neck, the key is in my pocket.
My cock grows harder as I get closer, every mile traces itself on my body like your fingernails. I can’t wait to open the door to our room, to see you spread across our bed, ready for me. Those letters? The fantasies become reality tonight.
Entry #8: Tonight and Tomorrow
My Nina,
I am so pleased you and Mark hit it off so well this evening. Watching the two of you after his almost bashful first advance was a joy. He was so smitten - even after your whisper in his ear made him blush. And I could see how hot he made you. I watched with such pleasure your mutual seduction; looks, suggestions, caresses drawing you ever closer. I know your signs - by the last dance you'd have fucked him on the dance floor if only he'd asked.
He did ask, though, to take you home. And as I write this I know you're tangled with each other. Perhaps his cock is deep inside you now, outpouring with his desire. Perhaps you're crying his name as your body wracks with pleasure. I can see you, lost in his arms. I _want_ you to be lost in the moment, in him. I hope he's an incredible lover. I hope he's _better_ than me, and that he makes you scream and shudder and come all through the night.
Because tomorrow, Nina Love, you are with me again. And I'm going to reconquer you. I'm going to fuck Mark out of your body, flood out his cum with mine, drive my presence back in so deep that it will be my name on your lips again and always. The better he is, the better I have to be. To earn you back. To reclaim what is mine.
I cannot wait.
Entry #9: Customer Service
To Kelly's Lingerie Customer Service:
I am writing about the incident in store #842 on November 12, 2009. Your employee, Laura, has shown initiative in ensuring customer satisfaction. When the store manager found us in the changing room, there is an easily explained reason why she was on her knees and covered in cum.
Laura had offered to help me find an outfit for my girlfriend. They both share the same bra size and similar skin tone. I wanted to see how the Cherry Red Rose Lace Bra (product #620023-CR) would look on my girlfriend's magnificent breasts and Laura offered to demonstrate.
I questioned if my dick would fit into the chasm of her tits while wrapped in product #620023-CR. She naturally pressed her boobs together and offered to let me find out. How could I resist such salesmanship? I rested my cock into that warm valley and I have to admit, the quality silk of your products felt incredible on my shaft and balls.
It didn't take long before I realized that there were other concerns for the materials. I needed to know if semen could stain either the bra, the matching garter (#620123-CR), and red fishnet pantyhose (#A842-R). She--demonstrating excellent customer service--slipped out of the changing room and put them on for me. I was in the middle of testing the material for staining when the store manager opened the door.
I can't explain why I was wearing the red silk teddy (#620403-CR).
Sincerely, Gary Moore
Entry #10: Letter Never Sent
Dear V.,
Since you asked:
In the cab, you have me put my arms up and grab my own elbows. I lean back against the seat and hold on tight as you slide your hands up under my shirt. Your fingers are cold and my nipples ache. You twist, pull, the way I like it, gently at first and then harder, and I have to stop myself from groaning. It's been too many days since I've seen you; I'm wet right away. You murmur to me to keep still, keep quiet, and of course I have to squirm a bit because I'm difficult like that.
Spread your legs, you say. It's silly but even fully clothed, that movement makes my stomach dip, my pussy clench. With all the ways we could arrange our bodies there aren't too many reasons to do this. There's no mistaking the message: Look at me. Take me. Fuck me. I am open open open.
Your hand's in my hair, your teeth on my earlobe. When I'm this turned on sometimes I can't even make out what you're saying--the arousal's almost audible, like static buzzing through my brain--but it affects me anyway. The breath, the tone, the intention: they all stroke my exposed parts as surely as your fingers are now stroking my labia through my panties. I hear whore and shudder. My clit is throbbing but you deliberately avoid it, making me wait…
I'm terrible at waiting. Pick me up at six?
S.
Wow. Right? Just fucking wow. Makes you want to go buy a whole roll of stamps and lick each and every one before sticking them all over your... Wait. Maybe that's just me. I *do* have this kind of crush on my postmaster...
Take your time. Choose your favorite! You've got all week.
XXX,
Alison
P.S. I'm pretty lame at tweeting, and I haven't got a Facebook. So any spreading the news on your part is much appreciated!
