The following brief vignettes are gathered from and/or inspired by a thread began on one of Literotica's forums. Each one is 100 words long and relates to a specific topic. For your reading pleasure, Short Cummings...
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Music
Krager slammed the dressing room door, laid his guitar in its case, grabbed an energy drink and slumped on the couch. He drained the bottle, sweat pouring from him. 'What a show, they really went wild tonight', he thought, the cheers and screams still ringing in his ears.
A soft tapping on the door evoked a curt "Yeah, what is it" as he sat up.
A pretty blonde girl of about eighteen years opened the door, smiled and said "Your drummer told me you'd sign my autograph book."
He nodded, seeing her eyes focused on his bulging crotch.
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Music
Music should make you want to move. Perhaps a simple bob of the head in time to the beat, tapping your fingers or your toes as the song plays, or wild gyrations of your air guitar on the stage in that imaginary amphitheatre you headline in. A few songs carry with them the compulsion to dance, to glide across the room, held tight in a warm embrace. This song makes me want to feel your hands caressing me along with the guitar's chords, to feel you deep inside me, thrusting hard, in rhythm with the pulsing beat of the drum.
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Music
Joe and Monica met at the Freshman Get Acquainted Dance. The chemistry was immediate. When the music changed to slow songs and the lights dimmed, they danced to an exit and slipped outside. Kissing passionately, they removed their clothing, the contact of their skins exciting. Shoulders braced against the wall, Joe lifted Monica and she guided his erect cock into her moist pussy. They moved in time with the music, tongues swirling. Monica tightened her grip and whispered, "I'm cumming." Joe erupted in her as she orgasmed, their ecstatic cries echoing across the campus. "Faithfully" would become 'their' song after that.
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Music
She swayed slightly, eyes almost closed as the music from the band washed over her, drenching her in harmony. Her pulse echoed the steady pounding rhythm of the drums. The thrumming of the melody sang in her veins. She'd been watching him all night. She walked to the bandstand, the guitar player's chords pulling her forward until she stopped just inches from the bright stage lights. His eyes locked with hers, and for a brief moment his moving hands stilled, the music stopped and she felt the warmth of them on her body, a prelude of the night to come.
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Cars
"And this one's third," he said patiently, guiding her hand into the proper position. "Easy does it."
"Like this?" she asked, forgetting to engage the clutch.
"No," he sighed. "You didn't push in the clutch. Try again."
She made another attempt, missing second and accidentally putting it into reverse instead of third.
"No," he sighed. "You didn't push in the clutch. Try again."
She made another attempt, missing second and accidentally putting it into reverse instead of third.
"I'm really glad we decided to practice shifting here at Lookout Point, instead of on the road."
"Me, too," she agreed. She'd learned to drive a stick shift sitting on her daddy's lap. A few more "errors" and he'd give up and they could practice their "parking" techniques.
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Cars
Cheryl and I spent many warm summer evenings in the last row of the Moonlight Drive-In. It didn't matter what was playing, we were in the back seat. We'd undress and lick and suck each other. I'd slide between her legs and she'd gather me in, our sweaty bodies rocking together. We both cried out as we came. If others heard, we didn't care. Afterwards we would cuddle and talk about our future. The Moonlight opened last night after ten years. Guess where we were? In the SUV's back seat. In the last row. We still cry out too.
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Cars
Since his breakup with Jerry, Phil was too distraught to have his Jeep serviced until today. The mechanic was handsome. A look passed between them. Phil winked. It was returned. In the Service Lounge the mechanic motioned to follow him. Entering a store room he said, "I'm Rob" and unzipped his coverall. Phil sucked Rob's cock then pulled down his pants and bent over. Rob lubed them and entered Phil with one thrust. Pumping hard, Rob shot his load as Phil spurted in Rob's callused hand.
"Now I know why they call you mechanics 'grease monkeys' said Phil.
Rob laughed.
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Cars
"Wait'll your parents see my Corvette," Randy said.
"They'll wonder what it cost," Rita replied. "Why are we doing this? No sex for a week."
Randy laughed, "They don't know we're living together?"
"No," Rita sighed. "Gonna miss this," she said, rubbing Randy's cock.
He swung onto a dirt road and stopped. "Let's fuck," he cried. They stripped and she leaned over the car's hood. He thrust eagerly into her from behind, rubbing her clit as she pushed back against him. He shot his load as she climaxed.
"Nice car," her father remarked. "Hood's smeared. Needs waxin'. What's so funny?"
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Clothing
Panties. She had dozens of them, strewn like a silken rainbow across her bed. She needed to decide which ones to wear tonight. Red lace? Black satin? Thong? Bikini? Boy shorts? The pink ones and the white lace ones had matching bras, but she wouldn't be wearing one with that dress. The violet silk ones were her favorites, but he'd seen those. She glanced at the clock.
Yikes! He'd be here any minute. Finally she made her decision and slid her dress over her head.
She whispered to her date as they finished their dessert. "I'm not wearing any panties."
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Clothing
Red "Fuck Me" pumps. Damn! He was rock hard and all he'd seen was her shoes as she stepped over the threshold of the elevator. He glanced down again and saw trim ankles encased in silk stockings. With those sexy seams up the back. He was never going to survive the ride up to his room.
"Thirty." Her voice interrupted his thoughts. He shifted his trench coat to cover his erection and tapped the button. He risked another look. A glimpse of red dress, snug and low cut. His hand yearned to cup the ass he knew was hidden there.
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Clothing
The smell of honeysuckle and night-blooming flowers wafted through the window, heavy in the humid heat. She was sultry, a woman on a vintage paperback's cover. The outline of her legs was silhouetted through her translucent white satin slip. A small silver safety pin held up one of the straps. A fragrant flower was fastened in her hair, just above her left ear. A light sheen of perspiration glowed on her skin, a few drops sliding down the neckline of her slip and disappearing between her breasts. The fan oscillated on the dresser, blowing the slip tight against her body.
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Clothing
Beth moved through the racks of skimpy lingerie. She had never shopped at Victoria's Secret before.
"Hi, I'm Megan. Can I help you?" a salesgirl asked. Beth nodded.
Carrying bras and panties, Beth followed Megan to a dressing room. She watched as Beth undressed and tried things on. Their eyes met and Beth smiled shyly. Megan embraced her and they kissed. Megan stripped and they licked and fingered each other. Megan sucked Beth's pussy until she orgasmed. Beth licked Megan's pussy until she came on her face. They dressed and exchanged phone numbers. Soon they were inseparable, and no longer wore underwear.
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