I'm the author of “Say Good Night,” which is a fictionalized account of my 2009 tour of duty in Afghanistan, and the author of “Sweet Chocolate's First Taste,” which is, of course, available here at Muse It Hot Publishing.
Typically, on these days where we have 'rank & file,' authors running the discussion, the days/authors have their own themes. Well, since I'm new to this game, I haven't really decided on one yet.
However, Kay Dee Royal, our regular blogger has recently written a review of my first publication, “Sweet Chocolate's First Taste,” which you can find, here:
So, let’s continue down this theme of firsts. I'm going to pose a few questions to you throughout this posting and I highly encourage you to respond by posting in the comments section at the foot of the page. I'd like to make these blog postings as interactive as possible.
I'll also be posting from some segments of that story, “Sweet Chocolate's First Taste,” just to show how I illustrated things. Now, here's the first series questions I'm going to put to you:
What was the setting for your first time?
Where was it?
What time was it?
“Sweet Chocolate's First Taste,” Excerpt;
Columbus, Georgia: April 1979
I was training as an Infantryman in the U.S. Army at North Harmony Church, Fort Benning, Georgia. I was just seventeen years old and regrettably at the time, still a virgin. We were two weeks from graduation, and my buddies, Ed Bristol and Juan Garcia, took a weekend pass to visit Columbus, Georgia. A typical GI town of the late ‘70’s, Columbus offered an endless collection of strip joints, tattoo parlors, and pawn shops. They catered to young inexperienced soldiers, like me, from Tinytown, Kansas; Nowhere, Oklahoma; and Jerkwater, Nevada.
We checked into a cheap, dreary motel near the cornucopia of strip joints, eager for our weekend of fun and freedom. Juan left “for supplies,” while Ed and I unpacked. It was a dump on Victory Drive. Threadbare carpets, thin walls, thin drapes, and even thinner towels that felt as comfortable against your skin as twenty grit sandpaper. I would say it was clean, but the roaches would probably take offense. We were watching one of those pathetic ‘70’s sitcoms when Juan abruptly returned. Grinning, he immediately began unbuttoning his shirt. Following Juan was a surprisingly beautiful black woman. I was caught completely off guard.
Now, in this example, the setting was what it was. How many of us, really know when that night is going to arrive? How much planning can we really do in preparation? Given budget and circumstances, I venture to say about most of us: NOT MUCH!
Now here's a few more questions:
How nervous were you?
Were you concerned with the other person's good time, or did you never give it a thought?
Was it their first time too?
I'll tell you now, I was nervous as hell! And despite whatever somebody else might say, we all want to do well in this aspect of life. Nobody wants to be a bad lover, and we all know that afterwords, we will ALL be judged! Yes, they WILL tell their friends about you and just how good you were, or were not!
Now, how would you illustrate that period of teenaged angst? What adjectives would you use to describe the pressure. That tremendous anxiety? And for all of you aspiring writers out there, perhaps this is a good jump off point for you! Perhaps this is the story you should write first?
From “Sweet Chocolate's First Taste,” Excerpt;
As I sat and bent over to untie my shoes, she dashed for the bed and promptly sat down.
Strangely, she covered herself. Somewhat. Shy? Is all this for real, or just an act? Surely, a hooker would’ve gotten well beyond being shy?
She was already naked. She leaned against the headboard and smoked, with one leg bent and raised on the mattress. Her arms were hooked around her knee, effectively concealing her breasts from my gaze. Her other foot was on the floor, her luscious leg leaned against the side of the mattress, concealing the elusive, mysterious opening to her center. I could see the top of the sparse, neatly shaven hair on her pubis, a very narrow strip about two inches wide. The remainder of her sacred region was as smooth as glass. This was the era when women were just starting to groom themselves that way. And what a Great Day it was!
In an effort to hide my anxiety, I tried to make small talk. “What’s your name?”
“Trisha,” she sounded surprised. “What’s yours?” She smiled at me and seemed genuinely glad for the conversation and was suddenly more relaxed.
For some reason, it all seemed very conspiratorial. Or perhaps it was an unintended intimacy to the moment, but we still spoke in whispers. “Hi Rick. I’m happy to meet you.” She surprised me by putting her hand out, I shook it. It was then I was treated to my first glance at the bounty of her breasts. They were so perfectly proportioned, they were…mesmerizing. Oh dear God.
They were so beautiful, so large, so firm, so high…gravity defying, and capped with bright pink, nearly red nipples. I expected a shade darker than her very dark brown complexion. Such a contrast.
“Likewise, Trisha.” I did my best to sound relaxed.
Once I was naked, I asked, “So where do we begin?”
She gave me a wry grin and opened her legs slightly patting the mattress between them.
“Have a seat.” My eyes ravaged her body while I moved in.
I was nervous beyond belief. She said to me, “You’re trembling. Are you all right?”
I feebly replied, “Oh yeah, I’m okay. I’m just…really nervous.”
Still not ready to let my secret out, “I’m just…new to this…”
“What are you saying? That you’ve never been with a hooker before?”
“No, I haven’t. In fact, I’ve never been with any girl before.”
“Really?” she asked incredulously. “Really? This is your first time? I’m going to get your cherry?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Yep, it’s all yours. For what it’s worth,” I said, as my knees shook.
“Oh my goodness. That’s worth a lot. Well, then I have to make this extra special for you.”
What could I say? After all, she was the professional.
Her eyes suddenly became less guarded and while she chewed on her lower lip, I watched as her smile slowly grew into a beaming fountain of light. She turned to face me, leaning back, offering me her chest.
My heart was pounding so loud, I thought for sure she could hear it. But my desire managed to override my anxiety. With my right hand, I took one of those glorious breasts. It filled my hand to overflowing. First Contact! Oh dear God… As my breathing became deeper, I began to gently squeeze her breast, quickly consumed by the fantastic twins. My face was only a foot away from them… I was amazed by the warmth of her moist skin and how easily my pale white fingers sank into her dark softness. I was surprised at just how long her nipples were and they were still growing. I reveled in her breasts, their heavenly weight, and the contrast of black and white as my fingers pressed into her flesh. I placed my left hand on her stomach and just felt her breathe for a moment. Yep, she’s real.
Okay, that's how I did it. Now in this situation, we have a novice partnered up against a professional. Whatever your circumstance was, capitalize on that. Everybody had those first time jitters. I'd also be willing to say that we were all pretty clumsy and awkward, unsure of ourselves.
I think this is a good topic to write about because it's something that almost all of us go through. It's a matter of coming of age. Let's consider this an adult version of “The Wonder Years.”
Now for a few more questions:
Just how good was your first time?
Was it everything that it was cracked up to be?
Just how clumsy and awkward were you?
From “Sweet Chocolate's First Taste,” Excerpt;
She lowered her chest down to my face and dangled her nipples over my lips. I opened my mouth and began to suckle eagerly. Our moist bodies slid together easily.
Somehow, I forgot they were attached to a woman. I nipped one a little too hard and Trisha rose up quickly.
“You need to be gentle, Rick. That hurt.”
“I’m sorry, are these sensitive?” I asked, my hands stroking her breasts, trying to ease any pain.
Holding my hands to her breasts, “I’m sensitive, Rick. And I happen to know you are too.
Just relax. Don’t worry about the time. We have all night.” Slowly, she lowered her breasts back to my face, where I treated them with the reverence they were due.
Until she mentioned the time, I’d almost forgotten she was a working girl.
Okay, now here's probably the better question of all:
Looking back from the advantage of age, how would you do things differently?
Would it be in the same setting?
Would it even be with the same person?
Personally, I wouldn't change a thing!
Now, PLEASE!!! Post your comments below and let's get a dialog going! I'll check periodically throughout the day and try to give responses.
I'd also like to take an additional second to encourage all of you aspiring writers out there to take a try at this! I can always be reached at my E-mail: Richard_Burns325@yahoo.ca
“So, we're on March 15, 1985?” asked Gloria ???
“Yes,” Jean Claude Van Dam replied.
“Tomorrow's my 16th birthday, I'm going to sleep with Bobby Turner. I should call myself and tell me not to do it.”
“The smart girl would call Bobby and give him some pointers.”
From the movie, “Timecop.”
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