Writing with Dev - Part Five

I had another day in front of the computer. On top of blogging, I'm trying to get at least half an hour of novel writing in a day, sometime it's  just good to get the blog done by writing along with another.

Fun fact: Gold FM plays Hotel California most days sometime during the days. And I'm getting old as I listen to Gold FM.

Dev's half hour classes are great for this.

So here we go. Lesson Five.

Five Minutes of Non-stop writing:

I played with the cat tonight. It's not something I've done since I've had him, but tonight, I got the stick with ribbons on it and played with the cat for about half an hour. He's not an all in type of cat, preferring to sit back and watch things happen, swatting at the ribbons, hanging on, then digging in a claw until I let go. He's not one to roll around on the floor with the ribbons - Maow Maow would do this. He's a little standoffish.

Then again, he's a small panther, there is a bit of dignity to this little beast. Even when he decides that he wants a cuddle in the middle of the day. He just climbs into my lap, then climbs up on my shoulder and stays for a few minutes. He's quite independent in that way. Likes his space - comes to you in his own time and on his own terms. But he still sleeps with me - which I love. He likes reading with me too.

I pay for him on Saturday. Finalise the adoption. He will finally be my cat.


Note: Writing helps the writer. the more you do, the better you get - ah, there is a reason I'm writing a blog post every day! Yay. Validation.

Genres: Write down Genres you love and hate - pick one of each, then write for ten minutes in each of these genres.

Love: Poem, Review, List, Sitcom, Prayer , Screenplay, Novel Speech, Drama, Fairy tale , children story, manual, Opinion, Limerick, Eulogy.


Hate: Erotica, Housekeeping, Code of Conduct, Group Email from a crazy person, Horror, Pitch, Memo ,

Write for ten minutes in each genre.

Erotica:

She doesn't know what he gets out of their sessions. She never really asked him. It just is. It's nothing overly sensual. It is what it is - their time together is unadulterated fucking. There is a rawness to their actions, yet a tenderness which she knows affects them both.

Their clothes come of first. There's not beating around the bush, it's a utilitarian action, easier for them to do the job themselves.  They aren't children, there are no bunnies that need to be skinned. They are not teenagers, rolling around in the back of a car with gay abandon. They are both middle aged. Clothes are clothes, bodies are bodies. In the early days they didn't see clothing as a hindrance - him taking lifting her skirt, removing her underpants - utilitarian cotton of course, bending her over the kitchen sink and taking her from behind. He barely took the time to see if she was ready. He was a bit of a barbarian in that respect. It was about him. It was about the cock. About his orgasm, not hers.

If she ever did come, he made note. She loved the self-satisfied grin that crossed his face as her cunt contracted around his hardened penis, as if it was sucking the life force out of him. 'I felt that,' he would tell her. She wasn't quite sure what he felt. She got more from clitoral stimulation. She'd tried to tell him over the years, but he never listened.

She would love him to to take her with his mouth - but this wasn't in his play book. When it came to sex, she was the adventurous one - he was more the base model, wanting the connection rather than the grasping gymnastics that her other lovers had provided.

It was the contact they both cherished - but neither would admit this to the other.


Poem:

Never

I never tell you I need you
Not that you want to hear it.
Not that I will ever say it,
For this is not the way things are,
And I think you don't want to know.

I've never told you I want you
For I doubt you would believe it
You don't think that I'm worthy
Or your worthy of these thoughts
It's just the way things are.

I never tell you I'm sorry
As apologies show weakness,
Well that is what you told me
When you came in late that night
Reeking of another woman and her charms

I've never thought to forgive you
For you actions or your comments
As you walked away that evening
Only to return in the morning
As if nothing ever happened, by they way.

And I'll never think I'll to tell you
Of my secret need for loving
For the fact I need so much more
But I cannot ask you for that.
And I know you'll ask me why.

And I've never thought of leaving
As in going I'd be lonely
I'd be miserable and frightened
And half of me would be missing
And I've nowhere else to go.

But I've never said I love you
I've never thought to tell you
As you've taken me for granted
For most of our couple time.

I've never said I love you
Because I doubt that I would mean it
And I know that I deserve better
And I doubt that you would care.


Today's Song: