They Think It’s All Over

Smut MarathonAnd so, finally, my participation in #SmutMarathon is at an end. As I said earlier, my goal was to get past the first elimination round; so while I am a little disappointed not to be going any further, I am happy to have got as far as I did.

With that in mind, I thought I’d use this post to share my four assignments and, since it is May, and the final one is all about masturbation, I thought it was fitting to add this to #MasturbationMonday.

Assignment 1 – Metaphor


Held within the eye of the storm, the power of her arousal afforded her a moment’s peace before unleashing the full force of its cataclysm upon her.

Read the other entries here.

Assignment 2 – Micro Story

Slow Burn

It’s that slow build up. The mounting anticipation that grows stronger with every word and every touch.

It’s the warm feeling that spreads over and through you in response to your partner’s attentions.

It’s the increasing desire and arousal, building inexorably as, bodies entwined, you move together as one.

It’s the heightened sensations as you begin to lose control.

It’s the agony of being held on the precipice, waiting for the inevitable.

It’s the sweet ecstasy of release as you finally surrender, succumbing at last; allowing your climax to break over you.

It’s the languid, satiated embrace of exhausted lovers.

I prefer the ache of sex that is a long, slow run rather than a sprint.

Read the other entries here.

Assignment 3 – Character Sketch

The Contradiction

The silver flecks in the stubble on his chin and in his short, dark brown hair gave him a slightly weathered look. There were lines around his eyes that spoke more of sadness than of laughter as they looked out from beneath a furrowed brow. They were kind, brown eyes, that spoke of a propensity for dry humour that was echoed in the wry, lopsided, not quite smile that he bestowed upon those on whom his attention fell.

Dark. Brooding. Just the faintest hint of danger; not quite fully veiled behind a mix of quiet strength and vulnerability.

His voice was soft yet clearly heard; although his eyes spoke more than his mouth. They told you his story, his past, while at the same time his penetrating gaze saw what lay beneath the surface; interpreting the subtle signs and tells of those around him.

His shoulders spoke of an easy strength. Large hands conveyed an air of assured gentleness. He wasn’t particularly tall, nor heavily built and yet he clearly had a commanding presence; here was someone who knew where he belonged.

Everything about him drew me to him.

The harsh crack of his belt, snapped me from my reverie.

Read the other entries here.

Assignment 4 – Masturbation Scene

#MasturbationMondayAll By Herself

Emma’s hands glide over her soft skin. She moans, softly, as she cups her breasts and begins to caress them. Her nipples stiffen, and Emma closes her eyes; murmuring in dreamy contentment as she teases them; pinching and tugging them gently before allowing her hands to travel.

Tentatively, Emma slides a finger between her labia, tracing the warm, moisture on their surface. Unconsciously she raises it to her mouth, tasting herself; savouring her own rich, intoxicating flavour.

Emma’s fingers return, teasing her clit, sliding between her silken lower lips. The excitement mounts inexorably, contractions grip, Emma’s heart pounds. Not yet! Slow down! Make it last… Reluctantly her hand retreats from her clit and again, she licks her fingers clean.

Fire burns. Emma’s body is alive with expectation of release as she caresses herself all over. Like iron to a magnet her fingers are unconsciously drawn towards her clit and she needs every ounce of willpower she possesses to prevent them from finding their goal.

Masturbation MonthPicking up the long, thick, heavily veined latex cock she had chosen just for this moment, Emma slowly slides it into her cunt, relishing every delicious inch as it slowly fills and stretches her. She begins to fuck herself, slowly at first, but with increasing force. Her passion now owns her; her body, of its own volition, moves steadily towards the impending climax.

Emma can feel her climax approaching. The fire inside her builds to an inferno as she fucks herself harder. Her breathing quickens. Her womb contracts. Her body begins to shake. She tries to resist.

The dam suddenly bursts. Emma cries out as wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure washes over her. Her body shudders as, with tears of joy in her eyes, Emma allows herself to let go, letting her climax slowly dissipate.

Read the other entries here.

So that’s it; then end of my #SmutMarathon adventure. They think it’s all over… It is now!



10 thoughts on “They Think It’s All Over

Add yours

  1. I am so happy that you have participated and wish you could have stayed in the race a bit longer. Good to see that it was a positive experience, despite it not getting you back to writing. I hope you will try again next year 🙂

    Rebel xox


    1. Thanks Kayla. I’ll be the first to admit, they weren’t the best I’ve ever written, but as they are the only thing I’d written in two years, it was worth it just to get my hand in again, as it were… 😉

      Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks. It was an odd one that just sort of came to me when I read Helen’s original entry. It took shape as I wrote it and I actually wrote it in one 15 minute sitting.

      It isn’t the best thing I’ve ever written, but of the four submissions, I think it was the piece that was “truest” to me, because I was able to take inspiration from something I had read rather than just write to someone else’s criteria.


    1. It was an interesting experience in that most of the character’s physical aspects were really me describing my own.

      On the whole, I didn’t get as much as I had hoped I might out of the experience as a whole over the four assignments. I was hoping it might spark something in me to start writing again; but I think that is something that can only come from within. Even when someone gives you helpful and very detailed prompts such as Marie did, if it’s not inside you, it is always going to be a struggle.

      In all honesty, I got about as far as I deserved to. In another time, I know I could have done a better job with the same prompts. This time it was simply all about committing to actually writing something, which I achieved.


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