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Celeste's Top 100 Stories of 1997
Original Reviews in Alphabetical Order (M-S)
"Maria in Maine" by Mike Hunt (M1KE HUNT@aol.com). When he and his wife
started on a nice trip, the only thing he did NOT want to do was drive 7 hours
out of his way to let his wife visit her old college roommate Maria in upstate
Maine. Why's that? Well, in some old pictures he had seen Maria was about 40
pounds overweight, had bad hair, and didn't shave her underarms. Still, June
had roomed with Maria for two years at Penn State, and they got along super.
And besides, June did give great head under the table (among other places -
see earlier reviews) and so a side trip to Maine was in order.
Well, time has been good to Maria. As the evening wanes, however, Maria feels
bad. She and June have been reminiscing and telling sorority stories and Mike
Hunt has been totally bored. What can they do to include him? What, indeed!
Surprise! They talk about everything from politics to religion to movies to
Mike's own college days.
Much later June mentions how they always used to talk about how they slept
with the same guys. Just not at the same time. Until now.
The threeway develops really nicely. They don't just jump into bed together -
well, they do, but.... You had better read the story yourself. It's a good
one!
"Metari Nights" by Mary Anne Mohanraj (mohanraj@mills.edu). Shalini has been
sold as a slave/courtesan into the House of Leata. Unlike most of the sex
slaves on this newsgroup, Shalini longs to be free; and she theorizes that the
best way to gain her freedom is by becoming an extremely adept courtesan. Her
sexual skills lead her into the arms of a magician who gains for her a
dangerous opportunity to break away from her slavery. You can read the rest
of the story for yourself.
With its vague setting in the mideast or the orient, this story reads like a
sexy tale from "1001 Arabian Nights." In an epilog the author states that
this is a cannibalized extract from a novel-in-progress. In spite of some
rough edges - and unexpectedly bad grammar and style in Chapter 8 - this is an
excellent story that combines adventure and romance.
"Mind Snatchers" by Simon bar Sinister (simon@mcstories.com). Using mind
control strategies, two oversexed but underdeveloped rogue aliens
(Mandrarians, to be precise) take Sarah captive, much to the chagrin of her
boyfriend, Roy. Fortunately, Roy himself is rescued by Dima, a beautiful
woman with a Doctor Who British accent who has dedicated her life to freeing
the known universe from Mandrarian control. Roy joins Dima in her crusade,
but while rescuing the women at an aerobics class from the aliens, he
accidentally turns one of the women (Laura) into his sex slave by giving her
the best orgasm of her life with a single touch of his hand. From this point,
Laura's only goal in life is to be blindly obedient and to satisfy the needs
of her Master. Bummer!
This may all sound a little far-fetched, but I saw what I assume was a
documentary recently on late night cable television. It was about a sexy
woman, whose name happened to be Jeanie, who lived in a bottle and responded
to the whims of a person whom she perceived to be her Master and who happened
to be a 60's-era astronaut living in Cocoa Beach, Florida. However, that
Master was a little less creative than this one in his demands.
Roy soon finds himself on the horns of a dilemma: he has to either give into
his carnal desires and let the horny Laura have her way with him or he can
save the universe. I wasn't sure why this dichotomy existed; I thought Roy
should simply save the universe with his faithful sidekick Laura. Roy
eventually comes to the same conclusion, as he and Laura team up with Dima
against the Mandrarians.
Here's the line that lets us know for sure that this is science fiction:
""Paddi, I know that I'm just an engineer while you're a teacher. You play a
much more important role in society and you make a whole lot more money than I
do."
This is a good story: fanciful but hot sex and good humor.
"My Sister Jean" by BillyG (hayden@mindless.com). Guest Review by Piper.
{Note from Celeste: I have previously reviewed 2 earlier chapters of "My
Sister Jean," and I am reposting those reviews below.}
I'm sure there are lots of perve..., uh, people out there who saw the word
"incest" in the story description and downloaded it strictly in the hope of
finding a couple (or more) of family members doing the nasty. You know, like
in Frank McCoy's stories. Or Tiffany's. Or even Michael K. Smith's. Not
here, I'm not sorry to say. At least, not in the first 19 chapters.
(Insert - picture of some overgrown pimply-faced no-longer-adolescent guy
sitting down, hunched over, with his nose six inches from the monitor and
drool running down from his open mouth and dripping off his chin into his
keyboard).
The author sent Celeste a copy of chapter 19, asking her to review it, even
though he "knows" (and explains in his letter) it's not really her thing.
Incest, that is. Nor is reviewing incomplete stories (one chapter out of
many, with maybe one, maybe several, left to come). However, since Celeste is
usually quite accommodating, but is currently rather overburdened with getting
the new school year off to a flying start, she passed the baton to me <grin>.
Hey Billy. You ready for this? He-he-he.
Unknown to Celeste (obviously), I've already read all 19 chapters (I guess she
knows now!). It's going to be difficult writing about _only_ the latest one.
So, what the heck. I'll write about the latest chapter _and_ about the whole
thing.
Hey, this is actually a good story - let me emphasize *story* - about two
relatively normal kids growing up. One is a typical over-hormoned teenage guy
with a lust for anything vaguely feminine. The other one is his equally
libidinous but much more controlled fox of a sister. The guy has a panty
fetish, by the way. That's how his sister first caught him; he was sniffing
around in the clothes hamper.
Over the course of time, they develop a code of honor, and start some low-
grade experimentation with each other. Like exposure. Touching. Things like
that. They don't _do the nasty_ right away. All the previous chapters
explore different situations, how they deal with each other's wants and
desires, and dig into how they feel about each other, the rest of the family,
and the world at large. This is fun stuff! Richly detailed, imaginative, and
engrossing. The author even manages to pull off using "natural" language in
his conversations without getting stilted or slangy.
Chapter 19 takes place on Little Cayman (Island). There's lots of innuendo,
sexy talk, some emotional bits, gameplay, and a bit of mental manipulation.
And some scuba diving. And a very pretty (slightly older) dive master. This
isn't the kind of stuff to get you off. However, it is the kind of stuff that
will make you go look for your spouse (or whomever) to help you get off.
Titillation. That's the word I'm looking for. The almost-done deed. But,
despite the author's claim that this chapter stands up well on its own, it
doesn't. Not really. This chapter is a continuation of the previous one and
a setup for the next one(s). Also, if I had read this chapter without knowing
any of the previous history of these characters, it would have been impossible
to understand the reasoning behind some of their conversations and actions.
Like who Ian and Jan are. And the "sex agreement" the two siblings have. It
isn't explained in this segment. Of course, the easy fix is to read all of
the chapters in order.
One thing I will suggest to BillyG is that, unless he's purposefully trying to
leave in those amateurish little mistakes, that he either go over the story
carefully a second (or third) time, or get himself hooked up with a
proofreader. Spell-checking alone just doesn't cut it. In several spots,
missing or misused words really derailed the story flow. (Yeah, I know, we're
getting pickier and pickier around here about them dang homonyms and missing
bits of sentence structure. Life's a beach. And then you diet. Or is it the
other way around?)
"The Night Before Christmas" by M1KE HUNT (MrMike@aol.com). "Fucking Mike
Hunt!" That's the title of a story by this author, you know. A good story.
One that I rated it 10-10-10. Mike Hunt usually writes stories with himself
as the legendary hero who copulates with June or the twins or a rapacious slut
in an elevator. This one doesn't even sound like Mike Hunt. I suspect it's a
leftover from the estate of O. Henry.
"Fucking Mike Hunt!" See, the problem is that I already KNEW who was going to
win my Celestial Christmas Story contest. And then this story arrives, and
now I have to stop and think and reread the stories and diddle myself and lose
sleep over this decision and eventually decide who wins my prize.
With my luck, I'll get even more good entries!
I can't tell you much about this story, except that it's about a young man and
a young woman, neither of whom is especially religious, who have been
celebrating the Christmas/Hanukkah season together in a special way since they
were newlyweds. Since I have already told you that this story is in the style
of O. Henry, you can surmise that there is a surprise ending; but you'll get
no more clues from me.
"The O'Stikkit Inn" by Mike Hunt (M1KE HUNT@aol.com). I'll bet you wouldn't
notice this on your own; so I'll tell you. If you read the title " O'Stikkit
Inn" by Mike Hunt out loud, it could be mistaken for an imperative sentence
giving directions during foreplay. Imagine that.
This is a VERY hot story. As an example of sex in the swimming pool, it
rivals "Slippery When Wet" by SueNH. As I said in my review of Sue's story, I
can't do it justice by trying to summarize it - It's about a man and a woman
who meet a guy in the bar and then get into the hotel's swimming pool after
closing time. Read the story for the rest. As I said, it's really hot stuff.
"Owning Corey" by Don Boettger (dbetger@tiac.net). The narrator is conducting
business with a man who gives him the services of a sex slave for the night.
The narrator is repulsed by the owner's cruel treatment of the girl, and so he
arranges to have her released to him as part of the business negotiations. In
effect, he becomes her new owner; but his desire is to set her free. The
complicating factor is that Corey does not want to be free: being a sex slave
is really the only way of life she can remember.
This is sort of a reverse-slavery story: "If you want to be a slave, and your
partner knows your limits and respects them, that's cool. But to coerce you,
and twist your guilt and shame against you, and work mind games -- that's
truly evil." The story presents and interesting problem: how possible is it
to enable a woman who has viewed herself as a sextoy to move from that
perspective to one where she views herself as a worthwhile person who can
freely give and receive love from a person she chooses? The author explores
this question in an extremely creative manner.
"Re: Proof reading sex stories" by M.M. Twassel (Mmtwassel@aol.com). I
recently received an e-mail message that stated: "Having been a fan of Deirdre
for quite some time, I was pleased to recently discover some Celestial Reviews
of her stories. Anyone who has read these reviews should know that Celeste
has a theory about Deirdre, namely that she is the reincarnation of Sherwood
Anderson. Not having ever read anything by Anderson, I wasn't sure what the
reference was about (alas, I only majored in British literature!), but working
in a library has it's advantages. I looked up Anderson in a series on
American writers, and found this very interesting commentary in 'American
Writers: A Collection of Literary Biographies' that fits Deirdre's stories
perfectly. Celeste, you're a genius!"
Here's the Anderson excerpt: "The uncertain, groping narrator of an Anderson
story employs an art of suggestion to articulate his search for pattern and
meaning in human existence. His experiences are fragmentary, incoherent,
inexplicable. The chronological sequence of time may be interrupted and
reversed by memories, inadvertent thoughts, gusts of emotion, and frustrated
attempts at comprehension. Objects and people are haphazardly perceived....
Absurdly helpless, the narrator may succumb to impotence, give vent to
explosive stirrings in his subconscious, flee the envelope of his body in
mystical anguish or ecstacy, obsessedly focus upon trivialities such as a bent
finger... Since the story is an articulation of the narrator's experience, its
movement is repetitive and circular: it is not rounded off with a meaningful
conclusion, for that would violate the narrator's integrity, his stance of
wonder and search."
My correspondent subsequently posted his message to a.s.s., where it evoked
the following response from a critic named Dabasir: "What a crock of shit!
Deirdre's stories are simply something to get off with. In closeing I would
just like to say that your classic interpretation of Sherwood Anderson can be
summed up simply. He rambles on stupidly much like Adolf Hitler does in
"Mein Kampf". Thanks for listening and have a GREAT day! =)
Before I relate this correspondence to the present story, let me first retract
anything that may have been construed as pejorative or derogatory toward
librarians in the preceding review (of D.B.'s "Fantasy"). I certainly
disagree with the classification of librarians as the only people lower on the
sex-chain than English teachers - even though my correspondent referred to me
as a mere "genius" rather than by my more rightful title of "sex goddess."
Mr. Dabasir may be right that Sherwood rambles on stupidly much like Adolf
Hitler does in "Mein Kampf." {I wouldn't touch with a twelve-inch cock what
that venerable social critic Marge Schott recently said about Mr. Hitler in
the esteemed literary journal Sports Illustrated.} My suspicion is that
Dabasir (a) was subjected to a really bad teacher who mandated Sherwood
Anderson as a routine class assignment and (b) prefers cryptic stories about
sex slavery, mind control, and anal sex to those about eggs, unlighted lamps,
and death in the woods. I can't say that I blame him. Prior to my exposure
to this newsgroup, I myself had never had an orgasm while reading Anderson;
and even in the past year and a half the sexual pleasantries I have
experienced while reading Winesburg have resulted more from the classical
conditioning of my husband than from the content of the stories. {I also
think it is distinctly possible that Dabasir - whom I thank for writing and to
whom I wish a great day! =) has confused Sherwood Anderson with Henry James,
who was indeed a horse's ass.}
What I object to is Dabasir's statement that "Deirdre's stories are simply
something to get off with." No, it's not the preposition at the end of the
sentence, which is something I can put up with. There are numerous postings
on alt.sex.stories that are "simply something to get off with"; and indeed it
may be possible - and even probable, desirable, and enjoyable - to get off
with Deirdre's stories. But the fact is that Deirdre writes extremely well.
I would summarize her work by saying that she artistically expresses ideas and
feelings which shyness and conventionality keep most people from acknowledging
publicly or perhaps even to themselves. I took the last 19 words of the
preceding sentence from a critique of Anderson by a professor from Columbia
University; so the similarity is probably real.
I don't want to shock anyone, but I don't really believe that Deirdre is
Sherwood Anderson reincarnated. I think she's a damned good writer whose
style reminds me of Anderson's. The difference between Deirdre and the
typical wannafucks and mindless "true" stories on a.s.s. is that she writes
well. Her style makes her stories erotic in a mysterious sort of manner. Her
style also makes it more likely that a simple shepherd yearning for his true
love or a college kid prepping for a hot date will be able to experience the
emotions and feelings intended by the author. Bad authors take a hot idea and
fuck it up so badly that people who "weren't there" think they have wasted
their time by reading the story. Deirdre, on the other hand, takes some
really improbable ideas that she herself has never even experienced and
expresses them in such a way that readers buy into her stories and vicariously
experience the feelings and emotions themselves. That's what good writers are
supposed to do. In my opinion some other writers do this even better than
Deirdre, and they use techniques that don't remotely resemble Deirdre's or
Anderson's. But the way they write certainly makes a huge difference.
Or as Nathaniel Hawthorne once put it, "Easy reading is damned hard writing."
The present author also writes extremely well. This is one of the best
stories I have read this year - but then, this year is only four days old. In
fact, this is one of the best stories I have read in a very long time. It's
written in the format of a letter to me (Celeste), seeking advice regarding
sex stories. The purported correspondent is a naive college student whose
sexual experience has consisted of inept masturbation and reading stories
posted on this newsgroup. He has met and befriended a beautiful classmate in
his philosophy class; and in a misguided attempt to impress her, he has told
her that he writes sex stories for the Internet. The ostensible purpose of
the letter to Celeste is to seek advice regarding his dilemma (he really
cannot write sex stories), but the actual result is a highly erotic and
sometimes hilariously sexy story.
The "letter" addresses several questions to Celeste, most of which I won't
attempt to answer here. At this point I'll simply state that "pre-cum"
usually does contain a hyphen. In addition, I might add that "proofreading"
is usually one word. As for how the narrator should have escaped from his
dilemma - I'll leave that up to the imagination of the reader - or perhaps to
a second Letter to Celeste.
By putting this review in the context of a discussion of Deirdre, I have
managed to give the story the emphasis and dignity bestowed by a lengthy
critique. I hope you read and enjoy this delightful story, which resembles
neither Sherwood Anderson nor Adolf Hitler. On the other hand, J.D. Sallinger
might have altered his style just a little....
"The Real McCoys" by Shelby Bush (stbush@iglou.com). Grandpappy Amos (played
by Walter Brennan with a limp) has to go into town "to get himself a hoe."
The hoe's name is Carmelita. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, Little Luke has
been peeping into his sister Hassie's bedroom to watch her get dressed; but
now he's in deep shit, because she has caught him in the act. Out in the
barn, Pepino and Maria are going at it like bunnies in heat in a secret
compartment under bales of hay. That leaves Luke and Kate, doing what
newlyweds are supposed to do.
This episode's sitcom problems are easily resolved. Hassie teaches Little
Luke to do it with no hands. Pepino (who looks a little like an organ grinder)
introduces Maria to El Grande. Hassie stops calling Little Luke little.
Somebody somewhere says, "Fuck me, senor!" while someone somewhere else
watches Luke and Kate do what newlyweds do.
Sharing each others' sorrows,
Enjoyin' each others' joys.
Like all other fam'lies they quarrel and fuss
But it ain't never serious,
With Grandpappy Amos and the girls and the boys
Of the family known as the real McCoys.
"Remembering the Sting" by Renae Nicks (RenaeNicks@aol.coom). This is the
story of Renae's first sexual experience. It's one of those rare "true"
stories that is both interesting, sexy, and apparently true. Renae and Mark
met in a college course - in fact, it was a biology course, and the professor
was lecturing on human sexual reproduction. They grew closer and closer and
finally made love. That's about all there is to it, but the author makes it
seem a lot more interesting.
"Sacrament" by Gwydion (gwydion@writeme.com). This story came across like one
of those foreign movies I used to watch when I was in college: It wasn't what
I would call enjoyable, but I knew it was good. But I couldn't say why.
The gist of the story is that a woman who is a maid in a hotel has a serious
guilt problem; and she's working hard at suppressing her sexuality, which she
considers to be the root of her sinfulness. One of the guests at the hotel is
a former priest - not only an ex-priest, but a depraved ex-priest who has his
waste basket filled with filthy pictures of men abusing women. The former
priest counsels the woman, and in a sort of sacramental sexual ceremony he
helps her atone for her sins. The experience rejuvenates her - and him.
The story is reminiscent of a Graham Greene novel - the old whisky priest
theme from "The Power and the Glory." This story is not jerkoff material, but
it seems reasonable to believe that serious stories have a place on this
newsgroup.
I have frequently maintained that the bdsm stories don't ring true to me,
because I find it hard to understand how a person can express love for another
by being deliberately cruel. I have also often stated that from my own
background the closest thing to extreme bdsm as a form of love is the
theological insight that God somehow redeems people by making them suffer.
One of the great Catholic classics is the medieval "Imitation of Christ," and
it focuses on this theme. Priests still preach this insight from the pulpits,
and I think these priests are generally full of crap. The same theme runs
through many of the American Puritan literary classics (e.g., "The Scarlet
Letter") as well as the literature of many nations and cultures. I personally
reject that concept of God, but I'm sure many readers of these reviews will
find it to be familiar. These readers (and these preachers) may be right, and
I may be wrong. What this author does is make a little more explicit than
most authors the relationship between religion and certain sexual activities
as a form of purification.
I have a friend who acknowledges that "Schindler's List" is probably a great
movie; but she has no intention of seeing it, because she "has enough problems
in her own life without watching a movie that dwells on man's cruelty to man."
I'm sure she wouldn't be interested in this story either. If you feel that
way, you might want to skip this story. Read something frivolous and
uplifting like my own "Virtuous Reality."
This story made me feel uncomfortable, but it was still an excellent story.
"The Sad, Bad Man" by BronwenSM (bronwen@anon.nymserver.com). Accustomed to
the friendly variety of sex in a typical small town in the British Isles, Our
Narrator has moved to London, where the risks are greater and hence the
pickins are slimmer. Masturbation is no long-term solution, she says; it's
like living on bar snacks. So she commutes back home for sex on weekends -
until she meets Liam, which, incidentally, was John Wayne's name in "The Quiet
Man," in which he returned from the United States to Ireland and beat the snot
out of whoever played Maureen O'Hara's brother before they boinked happily
ever after.
Ah, theirs was a lust "as beautiful as a horse galloping up a hill on a bright
morning, as the big breaker that throws you onto the beach. Beyond horny.
Almost as pure as love." And then they fucked like magpies in heat - Bronwen
says like a runaway train, but I know a better simile when I hear one.
Thereafter, weekend followed weekend. Nearly every weekend they ran into each
other. Never, not once, did they arrange to meet. But they met just the same.
He drank too much, he owned nothing, he had a child he never saw. His life was
without form, their talk was shallow. But sex with him was like a country
western song in a pickup truck at a bus station - or like a fire burning, to
use the author's more prosaic words.
So how do we get from there to the last three lines: "Oh, love, you were a
sad, bad man but I for one will never forget you. And you taught me one vital
lesson. Always wear your heart on your sleeve. That way, at least it's
legible." I guess you'll just have to read the story to find out.
This is the best Bronwen story I have seen so far. And that's saying a lot.
"Seduction" by A Magician (a-magician@mailcity.com). Because of a failed
marriage, the narrator has become seriously depressed. Seeing little meaning
in life, he finds himself poverty-stricken and practically homeless on
Christmas eve in Atlanta. Because the YMCA where he is staying is crowded, he
is assigned a roommate - a handsome young man who comes on to him and
eventually seduces him.
It turns out to be one heckuva sexually intimate one-time encounter. The
narrator does not "become" gay, but he thoroughly enjoys the experience, and
it rejuvenates his life. The author does an excellent job of vividly
integrating past memories with current sexual experiences.
If this involved women, I would label it "hot ff sex," and readers of both
genders would enjoy it. However, I suspect that since this is "hot mm sex,"
some men will not enjoy this story. I personally did enjoy it very much, and
I urge you to take a look at it with an open mind.
"She Invited Me to Fuck Her Over the Net" by Lysander (lysander@bitsmart.com).
Every once in a while I get the silly idea that I have seen all the possible
basic plots on this newsgroup. I think I'm going to stop having that silly
idea.
The narrator of this story is essentially a lunatic with special powers - like
being able to find his lost keys without even praying to St. Anthony. It
turns out that one of his special powers is being able to insert pointed parts
of his anatomy into the computer when he dials up those Internet sex lines
that occupy so much of the spam space on a.s.s. Well, as you can imagine, he
gets a Golden Membership and lives happily ever after.
It's even more interesting when you read it the way the author wrote it.
"Shelly's Sex Life" by Mike Hunt (M1KE HUNT@aol.com). Shelly is not Mike's
type of woman, but she needs help with her sex life, and she persuades Mike to
help her. When Mike helps her, Shelly is a fast learner: she quickly BECOMES
Mike's type of woman. Imagine that.
The first week's lesson focuses on attitude and oral sex. The "lesson" is
sexy and just plain titillating. Shelly does so well that next she wants to
study swallowing, tit-fucking, and anal sex. Imagine that.
"Shelly's Trial" by Mike Hunt (M1KE HUNT@aol.com). The author introduced the
eponymous but enticing Shelly in "Shelly's Sex Life" reviewed in CR 188. If
you missed that story, you should find it and read it before this one.
Otherwise you're stuck with the author's two-bit synopsis to bring you up to
date.
The narrator's sex education program has been successful, and Shelly has
become a veritable sex kitten for her husband. However, since he's a simple
minded financial genius, he has suspected that there must be a reason for the
change in his wife and has become upset over her "infidelity" (which was
really sexual therapy) and is suing for divorce. The plot evolves through
courtroom testimony. A particularly interesting device (for storytelling,
that is) is the courtroom transcript, which is read by one of those sexy young
ladies who so often serve as civil servants in American courtrooms and engage
in mild bondage with judges and witnesses during recesses. Incidentally, this
stenographer eventually turns the tables on Mike - er, the desk - that is, she
turns Mike on the desk- you know: one of those rolltop desks that sometimes
have handcuffs in one of the draws.
I am not going to summarize this story any further. I am not even going to
explain the meaning of this line: "Then you're going to eat my cunt while I
blow MIKE HUNT." Read it yourself and enjoy it!
This story fulfilled one of my fantasies. I love it when this happens. The
author fed me a straight line. At the end of the story, the author has ten
Notes to Authors, which contain information and advice based on the main text
of the story. Well, it almost makes me cum when I say this, but I have an
eleventh note for this author. #11 Note to Authors #11: "I like my sex
gentle and consentual." It's consensual, not consentual. Consensual means
that the person doing it has given her/his consent. Consentual is actually a
word and has a similar meaning but implies a formal, legally binding
agreement. I've read this author's stories. Mike Hunt has never had
consentual sex in his life - except, perhaps, for a few minor exceptions with
his lovely wife, June.
I continue to be impressed by the creativity of this author!
"Shish Kebab" by Lingua (lingua@acay.com.au). This is a story about two
people having sex in the midst of excellent imagery, use of words, and
allusions; for example, "Double, double toil and trouble. My fire burns, my
cauldron bubbles. But the great dramatist never envisaged anything like this
scene." Or "That finger, and the gently sharp teeth rasping your cockhead,
seem to be the trigger that detonates your cache of white explosive." Or
maybe "More of your
mayonnaise spills from your glans and drenches my hand."
My only problem with this story was its use of metric measurements. I still
have no idea how long the guy's cock was.
"Shorts Stories" - by Mike Hunt (M1KE HUNT@aol.com). These are short stories
at least partially about shorts. In the first story the guy goes into the
exercise room at a motel and sees a sexy woman in shorts. His goal is to get
into her shorts. He offers to give her a massage, and she agrees as long as
there is no funny business. I guess it all depends on how you define "funny"
and "business." A major difference between this and the previous story is
that the pick-up process is a lot more creative.
In the second story the guy lies down on the beach in a position that lines
him up perfectly with two sunbathing girls. If their genders were reversed,
they would have a beaver shot; but I don't remember exactly what you call it
when you can look up and see a guy's erection up the loose leg of his shorts
while he sunbathes. Anyway, he takes a nap and then incorporates this into
his pick-up line.
"Sister Mary Joseph" by BillyG (hayden@mindless.com). I guess sex-with-nun
stories are interesting mostly because nuns are taboo. It's fun to fantasize
having sex with a person normally considered to be off-limits or to imagine
these presumably asexual beings having dirty thoughts. I am a graduate of
Catholic education, and I have a close friend who was a nun for a long time;
and I enjoy some of these nun-sex stories immensely.
Having said that I enjoy these stories, I also hasten to point out that they
are mostly fantasy; that is, they require an extreme suspension of disbelief.
For example, last month I gave my top rating to a story called "Conventional
Sex," in which a teenage boy gets stuck for the night in a convent and has
wild sex with the nun in whose room he hides. I truly doubt that the author
of that story had first-hand or even-second hand information on which to base
that story. In other words, it was a hilarious and sexy fantasy, but I doubt
that anything close to it has ever happened. Ditto for "Temptation," the next
story in this issue of CR: to "believe" that story you have to accept the
notion that a critter called an incubus can appear and disappear, change
forms, and exercise physical and spiritual control over an emotionally
distressed nun who can't think of any way to avoid the danger. In other
words, it's a thought-provoking, borderline blasphemous fantasy that has just
about as much relation to reality as the movie "E.T."
The present story is different. From what I know about nuns {we'll call it
second-hand experience}, this one is actually a real-life possibility. The
nun bums a ride on a sailboat to the Virgin Islands. She falls into serious
conversation with her male companion, discloses that she is taking a leave of
absence to "find herself," describes her past experiences, and eventually
makes hot and tender love to him.
When I say that this story is realistic, I don't mean to suggest that it is
autobiographical. I doubt that the author really "fucked a nun and lived to
talk about it." What I think happened is this: The author is a person who
enjoys writing about emerging sexual feelings and the sexual explorations of
children and adolescents. One day he watched a movie like "The African
Queen," and he said to himself, "Wouldn't it be interesting if these two
people were on a sailboat to an exotic place and if the woman were a nun and
if the sex were explicit rather than implied? The nun could talk about her
adolescent and pre-convent sexual experiences and about her current feelings.
The guy could be understanding and supportive and reveal his own feelings and
experiences. We'll see where things go from there." And thus this story was
born.
It may not have been "The African Queen"; maybe it was "Heaven Loves Mr.
What's His Name" or one of those other stories where a relatively naive woman
is marooned with or travels with a more worldly man. My point here is that
this is a good way to generate stories: find a good plot and "steal" it. It's
not plagiarism or a copyright violation to adapt someone else's basic story,
as long as you really do make it your own by diverging from the basic idea and
developing the plot and characters along unique lines. Some of the most
"original" stories in both world and erotic literature (and in the movies)
have been developed in this way. Give it a try! But meanwhile, read and
enjoy this story.
"The Skier" by Mike Hunt (M1KE HUNT@aol.com). It's probably a coincidence,
but have you noticed that if you say this author's name quickly ten times, it
sounds like you're discussing a part of the female anatomy? This author
claims to have a colleague named Mike Lit. Imagine that!
This story has an unusual plot. A bunch of college guys go to a ski lodge
with hopes of getting drunk and maybe getting laid. Well. on the first day
there Mike Hunt gets laid - UP, that is: two broken arms, one multiple, one a
mild fracture; a cracked collarbone, plus a fractured leg and multiple cuts
and contusions, abrasions, and possible internal injuries. Bummer! But all
is not lost. There is a nurse named Carole Anne; and Mike Hunt needs a bath.
As the washcloth scurries about, up and down, in and out, Mike Hunt becomes
horny. Actually, Mike Hunt becomes aroused. But then, contrary to everything
written in this newsgroup, the nurse whacks his dig sharply. She says this is
something they learned in nursing school. He tells her to go to hell. This
is an inauspicious beginning. Mike Hunt is going to be lonely.
I don't want to go into all the details, but Nurse Carole Anne makes up for
her unkind incursion. Being in traction may not be all fun and games, but
there are some advantages! The author concludes with an assertion that " MIKE
HUNT has more stories than you can, uh, shake a stick at." I hope to see more
of them. This was very hot stuff!
"Snow Flake" by DG (dionysian1@hotmail.com). I planned to just glance at this
story late at night and then read it in the morning. However, once I started,
I couldn't put it aside. My husband could wait. Heck, if he fell asleep
waiting for me, I'd feel guilty and make it up to him with one of my famous
blowjobs. By the way, that's the Second Blowjob Principle: If you screw up,
give the person for whom you screwed up a good blowjob, and he probably won't
care. This principle may fail for someone else, but it has never failed me
with regard to my husband. Sometimes he even tricks me into screwing up so
that I'll have to resort to the SBP.
Back to the story. A man has to finish his thesis quickly, so that he can get
his Ph.D. and a job. He plans to shack up alone during Christmas vacation at
his parents' isolated cabin in the Adirondacks. On his way to the cabin and
in the midst of a huge snowstorm, he comes upon <g> an overturned car, which
contains the nearly frozen body of the beautiful woman who (we may suppose)
will become extremely grateful to him for saving her life and who will serve
as a major distraction with regard to that thesis.
The woman turns out to be a psychic. We know this because (a) she says so and
(b) she has an aureole instead of an areola around each nipple. Psychics are
like that. Even the Lone Ranger's faithful psychic Tonto. Actually, this
paragraph is largely a sarcastic spelling lesson.
Since Alan is a scientist, he doesn't really believe Dee is a psychic; but
because she is very grateful and appears to be interested in applying one of
the Blowjob Principles as a means of expressing her gratitude, he decides to
play along. As the author puts it, ".... something about Dee made it seem
natural and right." I won't tell you any more of the plot, except to say that
the sex is very hot and well integrated into the story line. The story is
sort of a hedonistic, druid version of an episode from "Touched by an Angel."
Here's an example of an ambiguous expression: "After laying the cold, limp
body on the couch...." It would have been better to say "After laying the
cold, limp body DOWN on the couch...." or "placing the body, etc." Especially
with a dead body, the present phraseology sounds like necrophilia. Actually,
the grammar is NOT a serious problem in this story. This is an exceptionally
well-written story, and I enjoy finding minor problems with nearly perfect
expression. That's why I'm an English teacher. As my husband once said, "If
you're going to be a bitchy perfectionist about one of the two things you're
exceptionally good at, I'm glad you chose to be an English teacher."
"Snowbound" by Ann Douglas (older man/younger woman). This is the second
excellent story that I have reviewed with this title. I am reposting the
review of the other, and I hope the author will repost the story.
When Ann Douglas moved to her new home and announced her retirement, I
suspected she would miss us and would return to her writing shortly. I was
right, and I am glad. This is a really good story. Of course, I had the same
feelings about Delta; but so far Delta has remained in obscure retirement. I
guess maybe that's what happens when your spouse becomes vice president of a
major industrialized nation.
What Ann exemplifies here is her ability to write a complete story - one with
numerous details that at to the impact of the overall story rather than
distracting us. Her stories are not complete in the way that novels are
complete: they are more like good weekly TV episodes - lots of interesting
details with everything falling into place at the end. In addition, Ann has
the ability to treat her characters with a respect, dignity, and honest
sexiness that makes them really appeal to me.
Ilyssia is snowbound on Christmas eve at O'Hare airport. She meets the father
of one of her best friends. She's 24, single, and sexually aggressive; he's
42, divorced, and hasn't been with a woman since his wife left him a year ago.
They are forced to share a room, and they fuck beautifully. But the story is
much more than a May/December emboinkment. It includes serious and sensitive
concerns about who will sleep where, real evidence of the value of both sexual
experience and spontaneity, and the value of waiting - plus a literal cold
shower. This is an absolutely delightful story.
Minor grammar lessons:
(1) When you quote someone and follow the quote with "he said" or the
equivalent, use a comma in place of the period at the end of the quoted
sentence. On the other hand, if the sentence ended with a question mark or
explanation point, just leave them there.
"I knew I should have taken the flight out yesterday," Ilyssia thought.
"Wanna fuck?" Ilyssia asked.
"I'm gonna come!" Ilyssia shouted as her pulsating cuntlips continued to
caress his gyrating cock.
(2) Use "lay" (not "laid") for the past tense of lie, meaning to recline.
They lay (not laid) there for about fifteen minutes, just enjoying the
comfort of each other's body.
(3) When two or more words form a single modifier and precede a noun, join
them with a hyphen. If the words come after the noun, omit the hyphen. This
rule is often violated with impunity, but it's good to watch for cases where
the omission causes confusion.
My well-fucked pussy tingled with delight.
My pussy was well fucked and tingled with delight.
They had a last-minute gangbang before the end of gym class.
They had a quick gang bang at the last minute before the end of gym class.
"Soft Ball or My Best Position" by Taria (Taria29c@aol.com). Guest review by
Cellist. Neither Fiddler nor Piper were available for this review, so Celeste
turned it over to me, Cellist. The story is about a sexy young lady who plays
second-base on a coed softball team. I have played second bass in the past,
but now I play cello.
The story takes place in the romantic environment of a sweaty softball game.
One day a sorta cute guy shows up as a substitute, but he wants to play second
base, which position is already taken by the narrator, as I have said. His
name is Mike Hunter, but with some modification of the name he hopes some day
to become a short story writer of sorts. I guess I should stop beating around
the bush and come out and say it: this is a parody of a Mike Hunt sex story.
As a result of some incredible coincidences Mike and the young female baseball
enthusiast have to shower together; and as fate would have it, they fuck their
mutual brains out.
Fuck! Now there's an interesting word. It's a word redolent of baseball
imagery. That's why Taria chose this scenario for her story. In a story
about softball this word and its immediate derivatives can express any of the
following:
Greetings How the fuck are you?
Immensity Look at the size of that mother on first base. {fucker
understood}
Insignificance That little fucker can't hit for shit.
Dismay Safe? The fuck he was!
Trouble Well, I guess we're fucked now.
Aggression Fuck you! {brings automatic ejection and a fine}.
Safety Don't fuck with the big mother on first base.
Disgust Fucking Celeste! This review is stupid!
Confusion Where the fuck is the ball?
Synonym for "very" This story is fucking good.
Difficulty I don't understand this fucking game.
Despair "Fucked Again by Celeste" by Mike Hunt.
Argumentation You goddam motherfucking son-of-a-bitch cocksucker! {And I
don't like you either!}
Fraud I got fucked by the umpire on the third strike.
Incompetence The umpire fucked up again.
Distraction He was fucking with a fan behind the dugout.
Displeasure What the fuck is going on here?
Disbelief That was an unbefuckinglieveable call!
Disbelief, dismay, confusion, etc. Fuck! What's my wife doing in this
bar?
Inevitable defeat We're fucked! {because the other team is fucking
good!}
Retaliation Up your fucking ass! {automatic ejection and fine}.
Paradoxical impossibility The umpire can go fuck himself! {But how?}
Telling time The game didn't start till 8-fucking-o'clock.
Physics I can't hit the fucking curve ball.
Maternal instinct-- Goddam motherfucker! {automatic ejection and fine}.
Sexuality Holy fuck! Where did you learn to do that?
Taria's best use of the F-word is her double-entendre reference to Mr. Hunter
as a "pretty sneaky fuck." On the downside, her most serious faux pas was
saying that Mike gave her cunt the two-finger Boy Scout salute: the Boy Scout
use three fingers - ask a girl scout (obviously, because their salute is with
three fingers also.) Taria doesn't write quite like Mike Hunt, but who does?
This is both an excellent parody and a superb story in its own right.
"Some Things Just Happen" by Mike Hunt (M1KE HUNT@aol.com). After a
voyeuristic introduction, the author plunges us into a story about a man and a
woman who meet on a park bench in the Boston area and are forced by a sudden
rainstorm to take refuge in his nearby condominium, where they make tender
love. The combination of naturalness and humor in the author's delivery and
dialogue is wonderful. This is a beautiful story, and I won't ruin it by
trying to summarize it any further.
"Southern Hospitality" by Rhett Dreams (Rhettxxoo@aol.com). Guest review by
Purple Shade.
>From the time twenty-five year old Bethany Albert is pulled over on a
Mississippi road by County Sheriff Paul Trent, until the stories conclusion
some 45,000 words later, the reader is enthralled in a crime and sex drama
involving, murder, rape, white slavery, auto theft and political
incorrectness.
At first glance, the sheer size of this particular story might make the
average reader pause, but I implore you to take the time and read it.
Involving elements of the two novels "Red Dragon" and "Silence of the Lambs."
by Thomas Harris, this story would make a great paperback in its own right.
This is an example of the finest kind of erotic story -- one which you would
still be interested in reading if you cut out all the sex parts. What's left
is a damn fine story. Definitely destined to be one of the year's best.
"A Souvenir of War" by Mandible (" mandible"@deaths.door). I had read my
first-ever Mandible story, and it was good. But then I figured maybe he had
got lucky. I figured this because my grammar guide says never to say "gotten"
- and also because the story I had read was about him getting lucky. So I
figured I should read another story by this author.
Well, one thing's for sure. Mandible is not a one-dimensional writer. This
story is the ultimate rape story. As I read this story, I kept saying to
myself, "The writing is interesting, but he's not explaining this very
clearly." Then in the second-last paragraph everything became perfectly
clear. This is another excellent story.
(Continued in part 4)
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