Something Just For Your Entertainment
Is this yet another example of the way men and women think differently? LOL
Here's a couple of questions I have: How long do you think they've been together? Is he that bad of a lover, or did he do something to really piss her off?
Hey, you, my writer friends, let's do a mini round robin for a five-minute scene. I'll start.
Gladys was on page thirteen of 102 Escape Moves, reading a rather convoluted maneuver that resembled something you'd see on WWW Raw. She glanced at Henry out of the corner of her eye. When she saw his expression and the way his hands held a slight tremble of excitement, she rolled her eyes and sighed. Men, she thought. Always with only one thought in their tiny little brains.
"You might as well forget about it, Henry," she said, moving her attention back to her book. "I'm still mad about what you said about Mother."
So, who's next? Jenna? Kate? Sloane? Hello? Just a few lines. It's only a five-minute scene.
Come on. I dare you. I double-dare you.
5 comments:
Bitches.
I have to think now. I'll get back to ya.
Whispers loudly: Evasive manuevers, Jack. Evasive Manuevers!
Damn straight I'll jump in here and I'm sorry I'm so late. What fun!
Gladys felt the book slip from her fingers and glanced at the man she used to love. Well, maybe she still did in a we've-been-together-more-years-than-there-are-mouths-to-feed-in-India kind of way.
So the drooling bastard thinks he can just jump to attention and I'll be all forgiving, she thought as the coverlet magically dropped to the floor. Not this time, Henry! You owe Momma an apology and you'll damn well work for any forgiveness from me.
But what could she do? She had no real experience with sex beyond Henry. But reading Sherrill Quinn's books had certainly awoke her inner woman who'd stayed hidden over these twenty plus years of marriage.
"Henry, sweetie, I need to use the bathroom. I'll be right back." After a quick Crest refresh, Gladys sasheyed, as much as any woman could in a flannel nightgown, to her lingerie chest. She struck a come-hiter pose while she wangled the third drawer open. The silk beneath her fingers seemed to reassure her this could be a productive enlightenment for both of them.
sorry I slacked off.
Internet's been shaking both at work (stupid router broke) and at home which I took to mean that blogger hates my blog whoring. Damn it.
Plus...I got nothing.
Well, as an experiment, this wasn't so successful. But it's fun, so I'll end this five minute scene with the following:
Harry watched Gladys pull out a silk nightie. He swallowed, hard, hoping against hope that it meant what he thought it did. She was feeling frisky. He might just get lucky after all.
Get lucky. He snorted. It was a sorry state of affairs when a man had to 'get lucky' with his own damn wife. Yet, here they were.
Twenty-six years of marriage, and she still couldn't take a joke about her mother.
Well, okay, so maybe he hadn't been joking when he'd told the old witch to butt out. After all this time, she still tried to tell him how to conduct their love lives. You'd think the five grandkids they'd given her would tell her they had an inkling what to do between the sheets.
Seeing that silk nightie dangling from Gladys' fingers crumpled his stubborn resolve. This was his wife, his lover. The woman who had stuck by him for over a quarter of a century and still had the power to make his heart thump faster, his body stiffen with desire. Who cared who was right, who was wrong? He'd hurt her, and for that he was sorry.
He climbed out of bed and went over to her, gently pulling her into his arms. Henry kissed her sweet lips softly, feeling them tremble against his mouth. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to hurt you, darlin'."
A slow smile tilted her lips and lit her chocolate-brown eyes. "You're a rascal," she said. "You know she means well."
"I know. And I'll try to do better next time," he promised. "Come back to bed?"
And later, holding his sleeping wife in his arms, Henry glanced at the books lying at the foot of the bed. Good thing he'd gotten further into his book than she had in hers. And he was going to make sure she never had to look in that book again.
And that's the end of the story. Thanks for playing!
That was a fun exercise and just what I needed to get me up again. Thanks for asking me to play and I hope you do again.
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