I mean, I love homework! LUUUUUV it! -- Ladies of Lallybroch Literary Forum

Tuesday, July 22, 10:50:50pm [ Login ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 1, [2], 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 ]

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Date Posted: 16:10:54 08/31/10 Tue
Author: Larn
Subject: I mean, I love homework! LUUUUUV it!
In reply to: debikm 's message, "Homework, that dreaded word!" on 21:29:58 08/20/10 Fri

This is a little aside from the main story, but one of my favorites. Something actually happened to a friend of mine, and I when I asked if she'd let me use it, she gave me the line about how stories can't go untold. The names have of course been changed to protect the guilty. I think no matter what kind of sex Emma had with Mike, she'd have a hard time topping this one.

It was a windy evening, spitting rain every now and then, making a fire pit at Salt Creek a miserable impossibility. Stealing a bottle from the staff reserves, Storie held moved the party into her room, announcing that anyone with a tackle box was welcome, but fishing poles were not. Dejected, the boys slunk off to parts unknown while the rest of us girls piled in with blankets, junk food, and all the other trappings of a first rate slumber party.

Naturally, after about a half hour of the usual complaining of guests and a philosophical discussion of the benefits of the ice cream maker, the topic turned to sex. For a ranch that had been barred from doing the dirty, a lot of dirty still managed to happen. We all contributed, stories about horrible boyfriends and one night stands, each person trying to out-do the previous.

I had a sneaking suspicion if I told the story of Mike and I, I�d win hands down, but I kept my mouth shut and considered myself the winner no matter what. Or at least I did until Kate spoke up.

She�d been laughing along with everyone else, poking fun at Jen and her story about the guy who burped into her mouth, when she suddenly heaved a dramatic sigh and suddenly held up her hands for silence. We all looked to her expectantly.

�I wasn�t going to tell anyone about this,� said Kate. �I swore I�d take it to the grave, but, well, a story like this, it can�t remain untold.

�Every December, out in San Francisco, where I�m from, they have the Great Dickens Christmas Fair. They take over a convention hall and build a replica of Victorian London, complete with chimney sweeps and sawdust snow. A friend of my runs a clothing booth there and I always help out. It�s fun. You get to dress up in fancy clothes and talk like Oliver Twist. There�s probably two hundred people who work there. They even reenact scenes from Dickens classics, Mr. Scrooge and all that. I pretty much stand in the booth and tell people how great the look in silly hats and encourage them to buy trinkets and whatnot. But I get to wear pretty things. And let me tell you, Victorian clothing may be super conservative, but the lingerie is downright sinful. Corsets and ruffles and lace.�

�Sounds uncomfortable to me,� said Caro, reaching for a handful of chips.

�Well, if they�re fitted right, there not all that bad,� said Kate, shrugging. �But oh my god, corsets make your boobs look amazing. And you spend all day, dressed from neck to toes, but underneath, you�re wearing a black number with red lace trim and ruffly underwear. Mm! It�s enough to turn anyone on.

�Anyways, I�d work there on weekends and spent the night at my friend�s apartment in the city. One night, I think it was somebody�s roommate�s birthday or something, we decided to go out drinking. And my friend dared me to wear the corset out. I threw it on over some jeans and we went out to a club.

�It was like flies on honey. The guys, they couldn�t get enough. But there was this one guy, a freaking giant, he saw me and seemed, I dunno, a little pissed and a little amused. He was gorgeous. Long, shaggy blonde hair, beard, glasses. So right up my alley he was practically parked in my front lobby. He came over, we started taking. Then we started not talking and by the end of the night, we were doing the dirty in the back of his friend�s car.� Kate smiled wickedly. �He had me keep the corset on.�

We all grinned along with her.

�Anyway, we got dressed and he dropped me off and I got about three hours of sleep before I had to be back at the fair the next morning.

�I�m all dressed and doing my shop girl thing. Every now and then, I�d move and feel the corset and think about the night before and get a little flushed and hot. The booth got stuffy, so I stepped out into the hall to get some air.

�I hear this voice from behind me, all deep and fake-English. �I bet I know what color your corset is, madam.� I turn around and well...�

Kate bit her lip, but kept on going.

�Remember what I said about them re-enacting scenes from Dickens?�

We all nodded, eager for her to continue.

�Let�s just say that I never though the Ghost of Christmas Past would curve slightly to the left.�

[ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]

Replies:

[> [> OMG Larn, I LOVE it!!! -- Debi, 06:20:36 09/01/10 Wed

This is fan-freakin'-tastic! And that it's true just makes it all the better.

I wonder if he'd had his eye on her before they got to the bar...?

[ Post a Reply to This Message ]
[ Edit | View ]

[> [> [> Most def. The guy had apparently been watching her from the beginning of the event >>> -- Larn, 15:05:56 09/02/10 Thu

...and had even mentioned to his girlfriend how cool he thought she was.

Yes. He had a girlfriend, who also had other boyfriends. It was a weird situation. My friend got out of it pretty fast once she figured all that out, but still counts it up as one of her best conquests. She keeps threatening to never tell anyone, but get two drinks in her and you get the whole sordid tale.

[ Post a Reply to This Message ]
[ Edit | View ]

[> [> Bwahaha! I love the true stuff! >>>> -- Page, 16:10:25 09/12/10 Sun

Not only is it a great part of the book, the fact that it's true makes it even better! Something happened to a friend of mine that I keep trying to work into a book, but I've not found the place for it yet. She and her DH were having a nice, romantic evening with flowers and wine and lots of candles. Until the frantic motion of the bed caused one of the pillow to slip to the side and on top of a candle on the bedside table. The pillow ignited, the mattress followed suit. All my friend had to hand was wine and she couldn't douse it with that. While she ran to the kitchen for a pitcher of water for the mattress, her DH ran to the bathroom with the pillow, little bits of molten flaming foam filling falling to the ground and charring the carpet with every step. The finally got all the fires extinguished and vowed to never tell a soul what had happened. Of course we got it out of her within a week. But the funniest part? Her husband was a firefighter!

[ Post a Reply to This Message ]
[ Edit | View ]