Instead of
picking a subject and finding something in my writing to illustrate what I'm
talking about, I decided to pick a passage at random from one of my stories,
and then find something to say about the writing. This is from my novel, Mandi:
Brandon
stays beside Alex until the car arrives in front of us and the tall Jamaican
chauffer hops out to open the door. Alex doesn't seem concerned with anything
but my chest. His people are quick to usher him and me into the security of the
limo and get underway. Brandon waives goodbye from the curb.
Alex
presses a button. A barrier rises to hide us from the men in the front seat.
The windows darken as if the city is falling under an eclipse.
"Oh, that's cool!" I take
off my pants.
Alex slips his hand between my legs. "Congratulations
on a great meeting, Mandi."
I squeeze his hand with my thighs and ask,
"How soon can we take a pill?"
He draws a package from his pocket and
shakes out a pair of Fire Genies. The one he puts in my palm is the second I've
seen. I ask, "Why does it have a Y on it?"
Alex says, "It's a peace
symbol."
"Oh, sure," I say, feeling
like a dumb shit. The peace symbol is not exactly my generation, or his. The
way he waits tells me he's trying to communicate something about his motives.
I'm more interested in immediate sensations.
"Let me swallow the peace symbol," I say, "and then I'll
swallow a piece of you."
Alex puts a Fire Genie between my
lips, unscrews the cap of a bottle of Italian water, and gives it to me. While
I wash the pill down my throat, he places his on his tongue. He takes the water
from me and sips. We are communicants. A demanding glow spreads through me like
a benediction.
I stretch on the seat with my ass on
his lap. He tugs my thong to my knees and strokes my cunt.
"Oh, baby!" The genie
ignites an instant conflagration wherever his fingertips glide. I reach to his
crotch and find him hard as a rock. He stretches on top of me. The wonderful
material of his suit drapes me like a pleasure tent.
He unbuttons my blouse and licks the tops of
my breasts. I thrash my feet to free my legs from the bondage of my thong. His
tongue finds a way beneath my skimpy bra and teases my nipple. I go for his
zipper.
This scene gets the two main
characters in the story, Mandi and Alex, on the way from one place (a business
meeting in a London skyscraper) to another (their hotel). It says something
about their ages (both too young to really remember when peace symbols were
current), and their motives (Mandi senses Alex is trying to make a statement
about his motives, but she ignores it and dives into sex.) It deepens Mandi's
experience with the Fire Genie, a sex pill that ultimately leads to her
downfall. It gives the reader a taste of
the high life—zipping through London in an ultra-plush limo. But mostly it's a
fuck scene. Mandi is a highly erotic
story. My goal was to fill every page with explicit and entertaining sex.
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