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Welcome to Six Sentence Sunday. So many writers participate in this weekly event. Please visit "the list" and find some more Six Sentences to break up your day!

From my random and ongoing series of short stories (not yet published of course) known as the Neurotica collection: Erotica for the insecure and self-loathing.

This follows from another few excerpts found here and here. In this episode, the female protagonist and her more confident friend Jill are at a Swingers Party. They have found Mr Right Now and are getting into it.


I sit on the bed and slide back to the headboard so I can support my back which always bothers me because although I mean to get to my Pilates class I never do because I just hate myself in yoga pants. I just know if I got there and worked a bit more on my core muscles my back would feel so much better and come to think of it I probably would look pretty good in my yoga pants even if they are a synthetic fibre. I spread my legs to show you what I have and for a moment I worry that what I might have is a stray piece of toilet paper stuck on my hoo-hoo. Then I remember I checked first, before we got here and I was sort of doing that last minute diagnostic to see if the panties and bra matched because one time I went on this date and they totally didn't match and I could tell it kind of killed the moment. Phew. I take the vibrator and turn it on so I can pleasure myself or at least look like I'm doing that because it seems to be what all the guys want these days while Jill nibbles your enormous wiener.

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From At the Swingers Party, Neurotica (erotica for the insecure) Version, in which the female protagonist muses on her first trip to a swingers party, post-divorce.
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I secretly always wanted my ex to let us have a threesome but it was too wild for him and I never got the nerve up to ask anyway because I was afraid he’d think I were a lesbian which is not to say anything against lesbians although my mother would die if I were one which I’m totally not. Once she said she would be ok if one of us kids were gay but since we were all safely married with opposite-sex partners it was kind of a throwaway line. I don’t know why she even bothered really. I’m glad I am wearing a sports bra kinda of thing though in case we do get naked so you can’t see the strap marks I always get. I get a bit back-boobish so the sports bra is good for hiding all kinds of faults even if it’s not sexy, it really will serve its purpose. I kinda hope we do it in the dark anyway because my husband and I always did which was fine by me because I think soft and squishy feels better than it looks.
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There are so many wonderful authors who post excerpts of published works, as well as works-in-progress, for Six Sentence Sunday. Please find them here!


 
 
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The first six lines from my recently published novella The Coach House.

Unless there was some Tall Dark and Handsome silently breaking into women’s homes, making thoughtful and passionate love to them, then quickly disappearing, Carys had been having an erotic dream. And from a purely analytic perspective, Carys knew that some unidentified and sexually sophisticated man could not possibly have seduced her twice that night in her sleep as she lay next to her snoring but otherwise comatose fiancé. Nonetheless she rose from the bed to take a shower in the wee hours, scanning her nude body carefully in the full-length mirror behind the bathroom door but finding no love bites or any other incriminating evidence. Obviously she had been dreaming. She slipped carefully back into bed with heavily snoring Steve, whom she had not seen naked (not that either complained) in five years.

It certainly hadn’t been Steve.

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So many wonderful writers participate in Six Sentence Sunday. Please find more of them here!

 
 
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From my Neurotica Story: Going to the Swingers Party.

My friend Jill said it was time for a change. The problem is I have no idea what non-vanilla sex really is. I mean, I’m kind of open to new experiences intellectually but to actually go and do something about it is so beyond my cognition. I am sure it would be fun to get off my back for a change but then what? Do I really want some guy I hardly know looking at my gelatinous bum or seeing my face sag over him as I ride him, assuming my trick knee doesn't give out first? Kinda makes sense, really, to stay on your back because gravity is just so much gentler although it does drop my boobs under my armpits which is totally preventable as long as I remember to keep my arms to my sides to hold my cleavage together.

Welcome to Six Sentence Sunday. You can find links to nearly 200 writers who will be posting six sentences from their work here.  


 
 
From my upcoming Neurotica (erotica for the self-loathing) short story: At the Office

I’ve been wanting you for months now. At first I thought you were watching me to report to my manager how often I went to the bathroom but I can’t help it, I have this fear I’ll pee myself if I get preoccupied at work and don’t notice the signs so I make a mission to go every 45 minutes. I see how your eyes follow me and it finally occurred to me that I might actually be attractive to you--or maybe you really are just a snitch. I never read people right. I think I’ve got it figured out then next thing I know I’m in a five-year relationship with someone who’s been sleeping with my best friend in his spare time and somehow I missed it even though it was blindingly obviously to anyone else but me. In fact, my friends told me a few times about it but I was in total denial. Even so, I am willing to second-guess you’re watching me.